Isobel Escamilla

Dragon Rider - New Rider | Female | 15 | Mentions: Aziza (ind) Ra’d (ind)

Iss hung her head down, clutching her sides as she waited for her lungs to catch up with her. She had made it to the edge of the valley clearing, eventually. Her legs ached slightly, and she glanced in the direction of some trees - a fit place to sit, just for a millisecond at most. Perhaps the run all the way to the clearing had been slightly idiotic, on afterthought. Certainly so when the strain of that was added on top of however many hours she had spent walking here, non-stop; Isobel wasn't surprised she was feeling thoroughly exhausted. Still, exhaustion and being on time was in undoubted preference to walking in late and cool with all the Dragons likely long gone. The short while it would take for her to catch her breath and regain some shabby resemblance of composure was a decent compromise.

Plus, with the emblazoning of dragons across the sky – their splendour finally in view for the first time just as she had reached the edge of the forest pathway - Isobel had been unable to stop herself. Excitement again fizzed in the pit of her stomach, sending her mind and imagination into overdrive.

Could she be chosen? Would she be chosen? Chosen by some strange and wonderful coincidence? ... Probably not, statistically speaking. She was passably old enough, but it was known that more commonly the riders would be selected at a slightly more mature age. Most people here seemed seventeen or eighteen, standing several inches taller above her with vague confidence lining their smiles. She allowed herself a grin, too. It wasn’t unreasonable to consider herself a candidate, but not very plausible to think she would really be picked, out of the hundreds there, either. A one in a hundred or so chance wasn’t horrific odds, but she didn’t want to boister any unworthy confidence. Besides, with turning up next year or the year after that almost out of the question and Isobel didn’t feel like overwhelming herself with unrealistic fantasies.

A bubbling of anxiety danced around her gut – trudging back home would be beyond embarrassing. And that was even if she managed to get all the way back there on an empty stomach and - she fumbled in her pockets for a moment – six silver coins..? Ah, what the hell. She’d enjoy watching the dragons and their riders take off and maybe return at least, then she’d probably track down a ride somewhere in the crowd here for the long, long, journey home. If that was even where she would ultimately return to. Now she’d caught a taste of this region of the country, and she decided she liked it.

It was evident that Iss had refused to assign herself a mirage of senseless optimism. She knew it would only crumble into self-doubt and an uncomfortable drop in confidence and whatever other miserable things would come with setting oneself up for disaster. But, she was here. She would enjoy watching it all while it lasted and then she would figure out where to head afterwards – a stellar plan. Soon the thought of ending up a dragon rider was growing more amusing by the second and she found herself grinning wirily as she cast her gaze across the clearing.

What in the name- Was that lady beneath the tree actually reading a book? At a time like this? All while surrounded by near-20ft dragons that could snap her in half in ana instant, and the ridiculously gorgeous sights of Dragon valley? She giggled at the absurdity of it; for a moment Isobel considered going over and introducing herself, alongside asking for the name of the book. It ought to be a good one if it was worth missing dragon-sighting for. Her musing cut short only as an enormous grey-blue storm dragon thundered across the ground towards the young woman. It lowered its head towards her, and Isobel could make out some form of conversation between the pair. So that was how it went – the choosing. Did the dragons really just know?

The whole concept of her being a Rider had been silly enough in the back of her mind. But, bringing it to the forefront, she couldn’t help but wonder how it would feel – being chosen for such a task, and by such a magnificent beast. She wandered a little closer to the trees, trying to supress her curiosity of both the young woman and the Storm dragon. Imposing on their conversation would be rude (and rudeness to a dragon sounded like a death sentence) so she still kept a large enough distance, mingling with a group of slightly younger kids, around her age. Chatting easily with them, her eyes wandered back to the storm-reader duo; how did this choosing thing actually occur? Did a dragon get to decide for themselves? If they did, maybe this dragon was as interested in knowing what on earth that lady had been reading as Isobel herself was. Or maybe feigning nonchalance was the way to go – maybe dragons did in fact dislike all the marvelling and gaping prospective humans did. If she took a leaf out of the woman’s book, so to speak, would a dragon appear out of nowhere and choose her? Heh. That would be cool to see. Unrealistic though - as Issie fiddled restlessly with a lock of hair, her calm, unbothered demeanour seemed to be collapsing by the second.

Cryosphere || Male || 117 || New Ice Dragon || M: Nava, Ryker (Ind), Isobel (Ind), Azzy (Ind), Ra’d (Ind)

The frosty dragon’s grin grows as the female before him echoes his name and extends her greetings, the lulling sound of singing ice reverberating through his chest and into the air. Its ending note hung around for a little while afterwards, fading out like the echo within a cavern. Bowing his head down to the slightest degree – minty eyes not leaving hers – his face becomes joyful but with a hint of sheepishness. A flush of frosted air flows from his nostrils, creating swirls of white in front of him. His own wordless ‘nice to meet you’ as well as a slightly bashful ‘thank you’ towards her following comment.

His head straightens out at the following comment, coming slightly close in interest at her words. Ah, the Northern Lakes. A beautiful area that he had the opportunity of visiting once during his travels. Honestly, he was half tempted to settle down there. Prey was decent and the cool atmosphere would suit him perfectly. However, the ever present lull of… not so much adventure, but the desire to move about came upon him – as it always seemed to do – and spurred him on to other lands.

The icy being could also understand the sentiment of meeting new dragons. Especially living in a place as inhospitable as that. He had the same experience throughout all his years, rarely bumping into a soul while traversing the frozen “wastelands” (as some would say) that he called home. If he did have an encounter, it typically wasn’t pleasant. He had the scars to prove that much.

Lift a clawed finger, he begins to write once more. ‘The Northern Lakes? Been there. Once. Almost settled too. The urge to keep on moving said otherwise,’ he pauses, allowing her to read his writing before whipping it all away to continue (this time, much more gently, ‘And I can understand wanting to meet… some friendly dragons. Not very often that we get to see this many.’

Cryo’s eyes smoothly roll to glance back at Nava, only to take notice of her stare aiming towards the side. He follows her gaze, spotting a tall young man with dark hair fiddling with something a distance away. He was facing their direction, however, so (while he had no clue of his actual action) he could at least assume that it possibly had something to do with the two of them.

The sound of another trill-like wrable coming from the crystalline female caused his eyes to snap back towards her. He studied her as she seemingly invited the human over. Her bonded, perhaps? He could only presume that his suspicions would either be confirmed or denied moments later.

The male returns the smile granted to him at her attention, watching intently as she motioned towards the humans swarming the area he had avoided. Her question spurred another wave of worry in his heart (as well as another disgustingly sharp tug from the invisible string). Though, her own rambling afterwards eased this to a degree. Fretting over such a silly thing spurred an amused huff from him, his lips curling up to show off his teeth with a laxed grin.

‘Either is fine. Yes and nos are preferred,’ he doesn’t give her as much time to read his statement before wiping it away again. It was shorter, anyway. Wouldn’t take long to do so. ‘I am waiting on my scales to warm. Too dangerous to initiate a bond. Currently. Should be fine soon-’

The blue scales dragon’s writing is cut off by another, more insistent tug. His breath catches in his throat for a second at its strength. His rider was much closer, now. Even more than before. Shifting eyes scans the crowd and its edges, looking for the source of this ache in his chest. They skimmed over a small lady and her new appointed dragon – a storm, by the looks of it. The direction of the pull near to them. Lifting up to rest on his haunches, he gazes at the area once more.

There. Near the tree line. He had to slightly squint to make out the human’s form, but it was certainly there. Another short human girl stood at its edge, looking at the stormy pair with curious eyes. That was her. His rider.

Anxiety prickles at his paws, unsure of what to do. Should he go over? He still wasn’t cool enough. Should he make a noise, like Nava did? Would it even carry that far? How was he going to bond? His staring continues while his heart races, filled with excitement and the still lasting anxiety.

Clarabelle

Female | New Rider | Dragon: Navi | Mentions: (directly) Navi

Grinning like a fool, Clarabelle nodded ecstatically. She was more than ready. But she knew she had to wait. Here, there was a whole ceremony to go through- which she was looking forward to. This would make her bond with Navi more official. Clarabelle patted Navi's neck, 'We must wait'.

Clara ran her fingers through her thick ginger hair in a nervous yet eager gesture. She was itching to get going, but this gave her the opportunity to begin to inspect her dragon more. Clara touched Navi gently, her hand grazing over Navi’s sleek and pearly scales as she walked around her dragon. To her surprise, they were remarkably warm beneath her touch, radiating a comforting heat. Her eyes traced the elegant curvature of Navi's body, marveling at the intricacies of the dragon's design.

As she moved around Navi, she kept her touch tender yet steady, her palm brushing over the feathers that adorned the dragon's neck. 'Simply beautiful,' Clara thought, her admiration for Navi growing even stronger in this moment. Looking backward along Navi's spine, Clara noticed that the feathers extended beyond just the neck, continuing along some of her spine and delicately adorning the tip of her tail.

She hummed softly, this dragon did not look like other dragons. Clara looked around, watching the other dragons- none had feathers like hers. In her observation, she watched many dragons playing with the humans. Clara grimaced, those poor students. It must've been terrifying for them to be snatched up, especially by the larger dragons. What she didn't realize, it was her cousin- Shiro- falling in the air, he was too far away to truly make-out his features.

"Is this pampering necessary? " came the bored voice of a young boy, his gaze fixed upon the mirror. He was seated in a lavish golden chair with velvet cushions. His eyes were dull and unimpressed, and if one were looking, quite annoyed.

"Young Master, this is at the request of the Madam." The servant carefully supplied with a slight lilt in their voice, after all, they were under the scrutiny of cold lime colored eyes. But then an annoyed scoff escaped his mouth as he turned to not look at the servant. He could see her hands slightly trembling at his lack of response, " did my question prevent you from finishing your job? Or are you unable to multitask?" He asked rather icily as he firmly placed his heeled riding boot under her shaking hands and gave her an unimpressed gaze. Though it was cruel and unneeded, his mother definitely would've said worse. Especially about this one's sniveling behavior, such weakness would've been exploited by now.

" N-no sir, sorry sir." The servant squeaked timidly and hurriedly returned to polishing his shoes, and he gave a small tch at the response. She finished and kneeled beside his feet with her gaze lowered to the ground - awaiting his word, and he simply ignored her as if she didn't exist. And only stood to look at himself in the mirror.

He sported a white ruffled shirt, the ruffled shirt sporting a dazzling emerald hues jewel in the middle. And he wore a dark green vest with an ombré effect that held bright and bold golden designs on it, particularly his house symbol on the back, a grand golden dragon. And he wore a pair of high waisted black pants that clung to his figure with a pair of heeled riding boots. His hair was pulled pack into a long ponytail - tied neatly by a lovely dark green bow. It was such an outfit that outed him as coming from a wealthier family and, oh, how he loathed it.

He held his hand to his face in a frustrated matter, and he took a look in the mirror. And he swore he saw his mother looking back at him and he gave a startled gasp and stepped back - nearly tripping. Which caused the kneeling maid to raise her head in confusion and worry. Something snapped inside Noellë, and he gave her a harsh glare as he spoke, " Did I give you permission to raise your head? Or do you not know your station within this house? You are to kneel until you can no longer hear my footsteps and then, shatter this mirror." His voice, light, yet there was a chill to it, one that seeps thought the bones and dared one to challenge or object. And he then with grace in his stride, made his way to the doorframe where he was met by a rather stoic butler, one of the only ones within this hellhole that he trusted.

"The Madam is awaiting you in the Meeting Room. She wishes to speak with you before you go to the Ceremony." the butler spoke with an accented voice, a slight air of sophistication to it.

"Very well, Hugo, make sure my carriage is ready to take me to the Valley. I trust this interaction between me and mother shall be short." He said in a rather monotone voice, his posture straight, and face apathetic. The butler flashed him a look of concern for a millisecond but only gave him a polite bow in response.

Noellë made his way down the long halls of his home. The twists and turns, all familiar to him - bringing some sense of comfort, but also somberness to how empty it was becoming. His older siblings had already left, and his only older sister was confined to the West Wing were he couldn't see her. And he ached to know what was going on with her, but none of the servants would say - he could only have his heart filled with dread. As he approached the hallway to the meeting room, he could already feel a chill coming up him - gripping his core, but he refused to be swayed by such emotion and proceeded. The only sound being his heeled steps against the ground as he moved - his heart beating against his chest as he grabbed the cool metal ring to open the door and the tired creak of said door as he opened it.

"You summoned me, Mother." He said tentatively, his gaze lowered to the ground and steps cautious as he entered the lion's den. The door's loud bang as it closed behind him sealing his fate.

"Such a gloomy face boy I have," came the sickeningly sweet fairy-like voice, and then the almost crystal like chime of her walk as she approached. He could feel her presence boring into him, yet he kept his gaze to the ground, only seeing her crystal shoes. That's when he felt her soft warm hands come under his chin, "Such a good boy I have, not even lifting his gaze unless I allow him to. Where can you find such fidelity amongst children these days," she praised, her touch soft against his skin, and she gave a soft sigh as she pulled him closer, "but I wish such a pretty face such as my son's wouldn't hold such a gloomy look, it makes it so hard to find a suitable bride. How could you look at one with such a cold expression." He had to resist the urge to push her away, the floral scent of her perfume was overwhelming and suffocating - it was making him a bit dizzy, but he dare not do nor complain about it. He was relieved when she decided to release him, and stalk off - her dress giving a slight swoosh as she turned her back to him.

"Kneel, child." She said in her real voice. Ah, there she was, he mused and he obeyed. Kneeling down on both knees with his hands resting comfortably atop them - his expression demure, and rather blank as he looked at his mother. She wore a stunning green dress, and her hair was accented with golden hairpins, the pale locks glimmering in the little light the received in this meeting room. "What am I to do with you, you make it hard to find a suitable wife for you and insist on this dream - nay, this fantasy of riding dragons," she gave a scoff as she turned to look at him with toxic sea green eyes, ones too similar to his own. And then she gave a sigh, "but, I guess it's good for the family reputation and is to be expected of one of his sons. After all your other siblings are doing well, your brothers being high ranked in the army and your sisters being good housewives and both excelling in music and fencing." She said as she paced around.

Noellë remained silent. Not saying a thing as she spoke. She soon came to a stop and looked at him, " You better get chosen or don't bother come home. And when you do get chosen - I expect you to represent this family well, you are a Morgenstern - you're above the lowly maggots at that school. Only because it's such a revered profession within this nation, shall I indulge in this. But remember this ; do not disappoint me." She said with finality, and with that he knew she was dismissing him.

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Mentions: Aziza, Ra'd , Isolbel [ind.] Other Dragons [ind.]

The ride to the Valley was silent and tiring. And he had blankly stared out the window half the time - but soon he had arrived at his destination, and as he exited his carriage, he could tell from the crowd and commotion around that he was late. There were disappointed faces leaving the valley and some lingering around in wonder at those who were getting chosen. It was quite a sight to hear witness to, and Noellë definitely would've been more happier about the situation if his mood wasn't so sour. He slowly walked towards the sacred grounds - his sharp eyes taking in everything with a collected expression, he wondered how his time here would be and if he would meet anyone new or make friends. He probably looked like some pompous rich kid at the moment and he hated it, but he'd have to deal with it. As he scanned the crowd he noticed a familiar face, Aziza Sterling, his best friend and his mood picked up a bit.

His usually passive features, softening at the sight of her and he slowly made his way towards the girl. However, he was beat as it seemed she met her dragon - and he felt his pace slow down, he shouldn't interfere in such an important moment. And he caught sight of a tree, and he sat down at the base of it, and he hugged his legs towards his chest - he wasn't in a good mood, and he tilted his head to see a good view of Aziza and her dragon, his pale hair getting in the way a bit. He hoped she was happy, and if she was - he could be happy for her. He shouldn't be this moody, and he gave a frustrated groan, and looked to the sky - wondering if his dragon would just grace him by falling down from the heavens in a whirlwind of glory. And he gave a snort at that, such a childish dream, he could hear his mother's nagging voice whisper and he had to stop himself from covering his ears from phantom words that plagued him.

It was one of those moments where he could feel his energy being drained - and he groaned inwardly, he just wanted to sleep. And he gave a soft sight and he set his sights on Aziza again, but then noticed someone watching her. A little girl? He gave a soft scowl, the child would be foolish to interrupt a bonding moment - but any sensible person wouldn't interrupt such a thing, everyone knew that even the least territorial dragon was still snippy about others around their human in a moment like this. He didn't think much of it and just trained his eyes to the skies for a brief second, wondering how it would feel to be up their in the air with a dragon. Had the Gods even graced him with such a prospect?

That's when he felt salty droplets grace his mouth, and he with a confused expression - touched his face. Oh . . . had he been crying? And he gingerly wiped his face of tears and felt embarrassment and shame sink in. Sadness, such a foolish emotion, one that portrayed a weakness - but, how long has it been since he last earnestly cried? Or shown any emotion besides being cold and cordial with others? Why did this bother him so much, and he gave an annoyed huff - accompanied by a sniff, and then a calming breath. But that didn't seem to stop the tears from falling down on the grass, and he just leaned back on the tree with his head buried in his legs.

How pathetic was he, to be crying on such a joyous occasion.

Shiro Bozzeli

New Rider | M | Mentions: Tęgomir Venoušek

Shiro was still mid-air, dangling in the claws of his new dragon. After relaxing to the idea that he had bonded, so maybe his dragon wouldn’t kill him, he felt more secure in his claws. The young man wouldn't go as far as to say he felt safe, or that he was particularly enjoying being dangled so far above the earth. He still had a bit of a ‘white knuckle grip’ as he clutched the dragon's claws with his own hands as best as he could. Upon his dragon ignoring his words Shiro did his best to do an eye roll in his mind, for fear if he did it out loud he would be dripped, before freezing and hoping his dragon couldn't hear it. While he did know a lot about dragons, he had very little information about the telepathic connection shared between dragon and rider.

He could tell his dragon grew distracted, though at what he couldn't tell. Shiro was finding it difficult to see the action down below, after all, he was high up after his dragon made a continued ascent into the sky. He could only imagine what was happening when the Air Dragon made a comment about someone looking like him. “Unfortunately that muppet down there, who happens to share my face, is my younger brother, Kenji,” he frowned.

Shiro was quite happy his dragon had decided to not convince him he was about to die or be eaten, much like the experience he had seen his twin befall. Though getting dragged into the sky was scary in his own right, at least his dragon didn't try and eat him. His experience was quite the fright, he could only imagine how Kenji was holding up.

As much as Shiro either wanted to laugh or face-palm himself over the mixup his dragon had, he had kept a straight face when replying. “I had meant ‘What on earth was that’... I'm actually quite knowledgeable in the subject of dra-..” he stopped when the creature before him mentioned he had made him look pathetic. “I mean if you want me to start screaming I can?” Shiro offered, he wasn't looking to upset the dragon holding his life in his hands, though his attempt was futile as he felt himself slip through the talons of his dragon.

Shiro let out a strangled cry as he plummeted towards the ground. His arms and legs flailed around him, knocking into himself and causing Shiro to start doing flips and spins in the air. He thought he was going to be sick. The ground was coming up faster and faster, and the sudden change of oxygen in the air changed as he grew closer to the ground, regardless spots danced in his vision and he seemed to close his eyes for a moment before opening them near the ground. Prompting another shriek to come from the male before he was scooped up by his dragon and set safely on the ground.

He dropped to his hands and knees before flopping over and lying panting on his back, a hand at his chest as he choked out a response, “Please… let's not do that again,”

If this was the life of a dragon rider, Shiro would have his work cut out for him. He had been thrilled at the idea of it in the beginning, but now a bit of fear and doubt began to creep into him. Though there was no turning back now, he would just have to live and learn from the experience.

Belvidere || Male || 71 || New Water Dragon || M: Kaisen, Arya (Ind), Desmodous (Ind)

A bellowing laugh thunders through the air at Kaisen’s tease for all to hear. It was an interesting noise, one that most ears had likely never heard before. Pure unbridled laughter from the actor of all things. The noise crackled with noises of the shallows while the obvious sound of high pitched whistling and squeaking of dolphins. A paw placed itself over the male’s eyes as he tilted his head up to the sky. His entire form bounced and rocked from the power of the sound. His tail slapped somewhat roughly up and down, like a hand slamming against a table in grand humor. Even his coral seemed to be amused with the boy’s words.

Finally calming down, he drags the smooth part of a claw underneath his blue eye – collecting the salty tear that had threatened to trace the trail of his swirl before placing it on the ground once again. “O-oh, my dear boy. As morbid as that was, I do say that it would have made my day. If not for this lovely little encounter with you, that is.”

Belv couldn’t help but feel a bit touched by the young man’s soft smile, for what he could only assume was due to his earlier complement of his sister. His suspicions were deemed precise as the red headed boy goes on to talk about said sister, and how she’d think the world of his appearance.

“...Considering she likes that dark colored one over there.”

Ah yes, that dingy dragon. The one she called ‘beautiful’ of all things. The humid being could feel his eyes rolling in their sockets at the reminder. But, as to not cause a communication, he proceeds to lift his neck upwards and shake it – brandishing his large horns from side to side in a showcase of their regalness. A posh look comes across his features as he glances down at his companion with bright eyes. He places a paw on his chest to further exemplify the look.

“Well, I must agree. If she finds that… other dragon beautiful, then she’d bound to think the same of me. If not more, unless she holds bias to her own,” his paw settles itself into the grass once more as he drops the act (even if he expressed some of what he thought).

Releasing a huff of air to signify its end, Belvidere’s dual colored eyes properly settle upon the tall man before him – a thoughtful shade of curtains coming across them. Perhaps… he could ask more about his rider? They would be together for many years, after all. May as well get to know him.

Yes, that sounds like a good idea.

Offering a toothy grin, he lowers his head and neck down once more. “So,” he starts, drawing out the word, “As much as I adore talking about myself, what about you darling? Got any interesting predicaments or details?”