{{{name}}}
| {{{name}}} | |
|---|---|
| Impressee | {{{impressee}}} |
| Hatching Date: | Some time in history |
| Lineage: | Here |
| Clutch: | Clutch:38 |
| Egg Credit: | Aiden |
| Dragon Credit: | K'del |
| Puppeteer: | Leova |
Contents
Pasty Screaming Egg
Much of one 'side' of this egg is a pasty white, broken only in the center by what looks like a distorted dark red mouth - as though pressing against the egg from the inside, trapped - and 'above' it, two black blotches spaced like eyes, the more sinister for how blank and staring they may seem. Beyond, the majority of the egg is a large splash of bright red, the tendrils of its edges a stark contrast to the white, impassioned face.
It starts in the middle of that 'mouth' when a talon thrusts itself through it, less with violent force and more with... well, there's not a lot of room in there, and accidents happen. It does the job, though, shattering the shell about it and leaving a tiny, angular blue left in the shards. He takes his time in getting up, eyeing the world with keen interest. Then, with a hungry creel, he takes off; the world is great and all, but his needs, right now, are rather more important.
Shallows and Light Blue
So pale a blue as to hint at translucency, his hide is reminiscent of watered silk or the sun-dappled shallows that gently roll against a sandy shore, stretched out as it is over a frame that is long and lanky and lean-- if often youthfully awkward. Here and there, the colors shift: here, a stretch of cyan, muscles limned in near-white; there, slightly darker, as if the sun has been lost behind a cloud, a haze hanging over the horizon. The sharpness of his angles is echoed in the dangerous points of ivory talons, set to contrast against the moody depths of indigo pinions, and the fine lustre of azure sails.
Temperament
From the moment he hatched, Zaisyreth felt a connection with everything around him; deeply and personally he sees himself as part of a greater whole, and you, Silva, come with it. He's more restrained than many of his siblings-- he's a thinker more than a doer, although there will be doing aspects that come later; he's not wound up tight the way some of them are, and will, as a weyrling, be much easier to deal with than some. He sees logic: if he wishes to be big enough to fly, he must eat. If he wishes his hide to be supple, he must be oiled. And if he wishes to know as much as he can about the world he cares so deeply for, he-- and you-- must learn everything you can.
Which is not to say that he's intense about it, let's be honest. In most things, Zaisyreth is content to let the world move around him, acknowledging all of it without needing to take on a starring role. He certainly admires the focus and poise of clutchmates like Aidavanth, and the daring antics of Quarinth, yet for Zaisyreth himself it is enough to watch, appreciate, and live out his days in comfort as one piece of the whole. « I am not like them, » he might explain, if asked. « We all fit in; we all have our place. If we were all like Asaroth, how would we build anything? If we were all like Evyth, how would we get anything done? I am exactly what I need to be. »
And he is. For you, Silva, he is advocate and friend, dedicated to the end. He admires you; he is happy to let things go as they will, even as you take action (in your own way). It creates balance between you. You are exactly who you need to be, just as he is, and he wouldn't change you for anything.
He's also... well, there are moments when he can't keep his mouth closed. Like most people, Zaisyreth has a temper, and his is fiery when it's finally roused. He's not afraid of being judged; he's not afraid of saying what he sees as the hard, real truth. It's just that most of the time he's not direct about it; he'd rather speak in proverbs (even if that's infuriating when you want a solid answer!), not to be passive-aggressive but in the belief that it's much better when people figure things out for themselves. But when Zaisyreth is angry-- when things feel Wrong, at first over something as little and personal as a stolen bone he'd been saving, and in maturity over the mistreatment of those who should be protected-- that calm, quiet zen disappears altogether. Zoth may be particularly good at this, pushing and probing until poor Zaisyreth can't cope; over time, however, it may be that your blue simply learns to exist above that plane, and ignore the bronze altogether!
Having said that, Zaisyreth is also a natural advisor. His habit of observing the world means he picks up a lot about people, and, when asked, he's happy to pass it on. « Perhaps you would do better to build that relationship with kind words rather than insults, » he might suggest. Or, « Perhaps you would not be late in the morning if you prepared yourself before bed. » There's no judgement in Zaisyreth; he advises, but your decisions are yours. He knows that you-- that everyone-- will reach where they need to be, when the time is right. All paths lead exactly where they are supposed to.
In the meantime, there are simple joys. Zaisyreth enjoys life. He will play with his siblings as a young dragon, and even later, as an adult, there will be moments where he cannot help himself. He's happy; why should he not be? His loyalty to you, Silva, is absolute, but so it will also be to those he calls friend, of which there will be many. Naturally sociable, he is likely to spend many hours simply communing with others-- indeed, even when he has a weyr of his own he may spend little time there. Still, there will also be those long, quiet nights when he is content to settle, quieting his voice and allowing you both to commune with each other: your time.
Zaisyreth finds joy in movement. He's not precisely graceful on the ground (especially at first), but he gets where he needs to-- and quickly. Once in the air, he's much more comfortable, and though he'll never be an acrobat, he'll be one of the faster blues out there. He loves heights, and will likely prefer a weyr high up above the Weyr, with a view out over everything. High Reaches isn't his, but he sees himself as a caretaker nonetheless. The same is true of the coverage area, of which he can be fiercely protective. It makes him an ideal sweeprider, whether or not you find the same enjoyment in it. « They are still part of the whole, » he'll explain. « Every little one of them. We must protect them. »
Unlike some dragons, he's not likely to throw himself into every flight that comes along, though it's less about the green herself and more about some internal rhythm and season of his own. He chases when the winds are right, when the clouds are right, when the stars are right... he has his reasons for every green he chooses to pursue, though it may not be something you (or even he) consciously comprehend. To his mates he holds a sense of loyalty, yet afterwards it's always better to come home to you: first and best.
In your life, too, he sees rhythms and patterns. If you find 'rightness' in one person, then he is delighted for you. If you find 'rightness' in many, well, that's only as it should be. Zaisyreth trusts you to know what is important, what is right.
And if you were wrong? That, too, was meant to be. It's just one more step upon this journey of life that you share, and he will always, always be there for you, when you need to pick yourself up and try again.
Public Impression Message
Shallows and Light Blue trips his way past another group of white-robed candidates, ignoring them all in his quest for... well, whatever it is that he's so intent upon. His wings flail about him as those too-long limbs refuse to work perfectly in sync; it's a disaster! But not, it seems, a disaster without remedy, for though he might end up falling tail over nose, it lands him in front of a dark-haired girl for whom his circle is complete. You.
Private Impression Message
All at once, just like that, the sands are gone. You're no longer hot and sweaty and tired and sandy; there's nothing, now, except the luminosity of brilliantly blue eyes, and the perfection of two hearts beating in time. « My road led to you, Silva, » he says, his voice at once as wet as the sea, as windy as the sky, as solid as the earth, and as scorching as flame. It tempers, easing down to the rustle of grass, comfortingly grounded. « And yours to mine. Can we walk together to some food, now? I'm Zaisyreth, and I'm hungry! »
Mindvoice
He's mutable in mind, your Zaisyreth, his voice adjusting to some internal seasons of his own. Most common of all is the rustle of long grass around you, both comfortingly grounded and linked back to the air above, though there can be wildfires there when he is roused to anger, and the rush of flooding rain when he is most enthusiastic. His voice is a genial tenor, sometimes inclined towards singsong; he likes words and wordplay, and it's rare for him to be unflinchingly direct.
Itchyspots
It's at the base of each of those long talons that he itches the most, and that's something you'll need to be careful of, Silva. There's always a temptation for him to try and scratch himself (it's kind of adorable when he's little!), but it's better if he doesn't, given how very sharp his talons are-- you don't want him to accidentally hurt himself! He's always going to be long and lanky, but there will definitely be times during his early months where he grows at different speeds, and at those points you'll need to be extra careful to ease the pain of over-stretched hide. As he reaches his final size, however, things will even out considerably, and oiling will no longer be a constant chore.
Suggested Adult Desc
So pale a blue as to hint at translucency, his hide is reminiscent of watered silk or the sun-dappled shallows that gently roll against a sandy shore, stretched taut over a frame that tends towards long and lean. Here and there, the colors shift: here, a stretch of cyan, muscles limned in near-white; there, slightly darker, as if the sun has been lost behind a cloud, a haze hanging over the horizon. The sharpness of his angles is echoed in the dangerous points of ivory talons, set to contrast against the moody depths of indigo pinions, and the fine lustre of azure sails.
Inspiration
The theme for this clutch was 'Things that go bump in the night' and it may seem like a stretch, but for Zaisyreth we ultimately ended up on Rafiki from 'The Lion King' to fit your requests. Rafiki, we argue, helped Simba to return his place and keep the Pride Lands from falling into shadow forever; he also did so at night and if his influence wasn't a bump in the right direction... well. His desc is inspired by this picture that you so helpfully provided, while his name is derived from while his name is loosely derived from 'mzunguko' (Swahili for 'circle') and 'maisha' (Swahili for 'life').
Egg Inspiration: Some people find clowns scary, so I thought a scary place would be a clown car where they're all squished together. This egg was inspired by the the thought of a clown with his face pressed against the window. The actual clown description is inspired by Pennywise in IT as portrayed by Tim Curry in the TV miniseries.
| Clutch 38 | |
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