Difference between revisions of "Dragon:Iovniath"

Latest revision as of 11:08, 16 December 2015

Satin Sari Egg

Nestled among its neighbors, this large egg glistens with faint iridescence, champagne and ivory shades mingling across the smooth surface. Like fine fabric, pale hues encircle the middle before being gracefully draped over the apex and across the shell. Here and there splashes of deeper gold add muted accents, from warm butter yellow to bolder crimson-chased shades they hint at floral patterns dyed into silk.

The champagne shell of the Satin Sari Egg seems to fold, bulging over the cracks as its inmate fights the membranous cage. Through one of those floral splashes of crimson, a silvery talon emerges like a dagger spilling blood and with a final effort the shell and elastic membrane within are split and a new queen rolls out onto the sands.

Imperial Faberge Garden Gold

Like a highborn lady ornamented from head to toe, this dragon is graced with a hide of delicately wrought gold. Vines of rich ochre shimmer over her, lending a softened look of pampered opulence to an otherwise slim figure. The angles of her face are just a touch too long and sharp about the cheek and muzzle, but it accentuates the roundness of her eyes and highly arched eyeridges that both contrive an aura of innocence and betray flashes of innate pride. Pearl adorns the tips of pointed headknobs, and neckridges trailing down her spine like an even string of sharply angled beads. Silvery shades mark each precisely placed talon and scatter up her wingspars like so many rough-cut diamonds. Between those spars, her expansive wings take on the appearance of tight gilded lace, and a hint of filigree across slender shoulders and haunches dances with rose and pale green in certain lights, a garden illusion glittering amid the gold.

Temperament

Like an aristocrat of the bluest blood, your Iovniath has known how to carry herself from the time she cracked shell, just how to maneuver through society. Though capable of the most gracious interaction and proper behavior, only you truly know her heart - that beneath all that perfect social grace is a cool, calculating mind and a soul as fiery and willful as your own.

During those first months of weyrlinghood, clashing may be as common as overwhelming adoration. She believes you to be the most capable and inspiring creature she could imagine, but in that she also has stringent and lofty expectations of you. Much like her dam in fussiness, she will make paramount importance of both your appearance and her own. Eating takes her forever, lest some speck of blood soil her fine hide; bathing and oiling must be thorough to her exact requirements. And don't think that she'll have any less interest in you. « Are your nails clean, Tiriana? The hands are the most accurate sign of prosperity. If you have filthy nails, you will never be seen as anything but a stablehand. And don't slouch like that. We are ladies. »

And so let the fighting ensue, but ultimately love will make one of you give in - you'll both understand innately when one of you has had enough of the other's immovability, and will eventually come to find a balance between your wild side and her refined one. It helps, of course, that you have the same fierce loyalty, the same possessiveness, and ultimately, the same goal: to be someone.

While you might like to bully your way to the top, she knows that methods of manipulation are better suited to success. She'll always be learning, fine-tuning her technique, and early weyrlinghood may give her a first taste at failure. She may go overboard on the sweet talk with Arenith or playing the dramatic, faint-hearted damsel for Valketh in order to get out of some unsavory lesson or chore. She may even try to bend you to her will, but you'll know when her words get all-too-carefully chosen that she's hiding something. With her early efforts so obvious, there will be plenty of times when her attempts at navigation fail her and you will feel her fires of frustration as acutely as your own, cold as ice, full of sharp words and vicious thoughts. But don't go blustering forward on her behalf! « No, don't say anything. We'll bide our time and show them exactly how capable we are. » Of course, she might be proving it to herself or to you in reality, but that hardly matters at the time. Thankfully, she has the patience you can lack, and her skills will grow more and more accomplished with time.

She understands the importance of lessons and drills and is as attentive as she can be, but with so active a mind, boredom sets in quickly and it's then you see her strong will and determination come into play. She may complain and sneer to you, but on the outside she will continue to behave like a dutiful lady, all the while plotting some greater deed. Both her sensitive pride and iron resolve might have the two of you sneaking off to practice, lest you fail in front of an audience. As weyrlinghood progresses, you may find yourself keeping odd hours so that she can perfect her landing while everyone else is off at dinner - or sleeping.

Despite her calculations, or perhaps because of them, she will paint herself as a vivacious, regal and genteel creature for all she encounters. She keeps tabs on what everyone is doing, checks in like the most attentive of friends, listens with a careful ear, teases and jokes when the situation calls for it: whatever will win her respect and affection. She is networking constantly, looking for the strongest connections, the ones that will vault the two of you ever higher into the stratosphere of status and also looking for all the weaknesses of those around her, in case she should ever need to use them, for her advantage or yours.

Though her intentions are clearly to have you both rise to the expectations of your rank, she has an innate respect for the hierarchy of the Weyr and those who have attained position in it. She understands that there's some value to gaining rank through hard work, but like any aristocrat, she privately believes lineage to be the key to success and hers in particular to be the best suited for leadership. Unsurprisingly, her matriarch is accorded the most respect, and she views Liabeth with some admiration. While she may not always agree with the particulars, the queen's word is law, just as she would expect it to be if that knot were on your shoulder. That being said, if she has her way, she will ensure that you both are first in the line of succession.

She is attracted to the best, the brightest, the strongest, the most handsome and above all, the powerful. And she recognizes that power does not always come with a title. When it comes time for her to rise, her sensuality may blossom into a fire to consume you both. She wants to be wooed like the princess she is, granting her sweet favors on those who treat her best. Even during her highest, fastest flights, she is always choosy and when it is in her power to do so, she'll be very careful about which male may win the benefit of connection to her, or perhaps which mate might benefit her or you - or the Weyr - the best.

When she is caught by such a creature, she makes a happy mate, spending a good deal of time fawning over them and enjoying the honeymoon of their romance, making excuses for whatever shortcomings he may have, at least to a point. Her pride is still intact and woe to the mate who does not show her the respect she deserves.

When the eggs arrive she will coddle them to the exclusion of nearly everything else. They will be arranged and rearranged like a seating placements under a lady's hand, most often paired in complicated patterns like some highborn dance. That mentality will also help her play the part of a gracious hostess when candidates come smearing their filthy paws all over her beauties. She'll take it, but you'll need to soothe her afterwards. « Tiriana, » she may whimper privately to you. « They touched my eggs. » Poor Iovniath. However, she does have a sense of dynasty, a sense of leaving her legacy through her offspring, and will look forward to the day they are paired with riders and go off to make her proud - and make her look good.

Public Impression Message

Imperial Faberge Garden Gold gives a delicate snort as the latest candidate fails her inspection and she lifts her lady-like chin as she moves onward. Careful steps pick a wide berth around a chubby boy, eyes watching him all the while as if he might just leap out and claim her. But when the threat has passed, when her attention turns, it falls on a tall, dark-haired young woman of lofty lineage to match her own. Perfect.

Private Impression Message

Has the world gone white? As you stand amid the chaos of eggs and dragons and candidates around you, the galleries packed, the riotous colors fade. The hatching sands gleam pale as snow, those eggs like orbs of ice, candidates change to the billow of drapes in some cool breeze and the stands are shrouded in a sparkling blanket like a court decked in diamonds. There is some icy winter palace around you and a perfect gilded garden is the only bit of color you can see. « Tiriana, » in a silvery voice so familiar it is at once family, home - the sound your ears have been missing for so long. The flood of colors may return, but she is still a beacon of regal grace standing before you. Iovniath. « You are perfect. » And you believe it, perfect together. « Hold your head high, my love. Let's show them with whom they'll be dealing. » Perfect.

Mindvoice

White pervades. From the sparkles of ice and diamond, the rain of glass shards, the blanket of winter snow and the soft hint of pristine ermine fur, the imagery that accompanies her light and silvery voice is white. It glints and gleams when she's pleased, turns to cold razor edges when she isn't and envelopes like a shroud when her feelings turn warm. As clean and precise as her images of her mental touch, her pronunciation is perfect, and the words she chooses are rarely haphazard. Baser terms seem to be missing from her vocabulary, but her penchant for a well-turned phrase is always present.

Itchyspots

Oh, what embarrassment. If only she were most itchy someplace respectable, like a shoulder neck or her wing joints. But no. As fate would have it, the place that seems to need the most attention, the most scrubbing and the most oil would be her rump, from the base of her tail and down the backs of her legs. Of course, rather than have you attend to such itches in public, she might give in to uneasy fidgeting and terrible distraction as she waits until you are in a private place and she can have you tend to this inappropriate itching while she nearly dies with relief.

Physical

While moderate in size, Iovniath's slender build and careful comportment gives her leave to change exactly what impression she will make, a delicate damsel in need of compassion or a proud queen deserving of respect. With such exacting control over every limb, she excels at all things that require coordination and she is most eager to practice them. She may be the first to perfect her landing and flight may find her rather more agile than might be expected as she maneuvers each wing tip with particular skill. A dragon of gold size could hardly be lacking in power, but her light build will never make it a great forte.

Dragon Inspirations

Iovniath is inspired by Imperial Russia, in particular its ruling dynasty, the Romanovs. Her personality builds on the image of an aristocratic lady, refined and blue-blooded, icy as Russian winters and as politically minded as a time rife with rises to power, strategic maneuvers and vicious retaliations. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Russian_Empire

Her description is based on the Rose Trellis faberge egg, a gift from Nicholas II to Alexandra Fyodorovna. http://mieks.com/Faberge2/1907-Rose-Trellis-Egg.htm

The name Iovniath (suggested pronunciation: ee-OHV-nee-ath) is based on the Russian patronymic for daughters, 'ovna'. This inspiration was chosen for Iovniath as the daughters of Tsar Nicholas II were all given such a patronymic and as a nod to the importance Tiriana gives for her own paternity.

Egg Inspiration: An Indian sari, used by women for millenia and still worn by millions today.

Clutches

Iovniath has produced 2 gold, 6 bronze, 12 brown, 15 blue, and 24 green dragons.