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Darkseeker
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Galladis Verael | M | Re'enalla | Topaz, Azo, Zeb, Wren He was shoved into the healer's tent. Shoved. Not guided. Not gently pulled over to. Did that mean what he thought? That Zeb cared for him? He thought the only thing she cared about was her jokes, and now, her dragon.
"Excuse me, would you like some help?" From his point sitting down, he looked up at the speaker. The female elf was watching him, leaning in to see what was wrong. "Your neck." Touching her hand to the back of his head, he could feel the slight wound close up as it healed. "Now, do you want some candy?" His fist connected with her face before he knew what was happening. The other two elves stood beside her, one healing her broken nose as the other glared at him. Not like the man noticed he was looking at his arm, horrified. Where had that come from? Once the woman was healed, the one who stared him down ushered him to the edge of the tent. "Leave." Shooting him a stony look, he stormed out of the tent. He didn't even see when he nearly bowled over his apprentice. When he shook his head, he was astonished. Zeb. In a dress? It was something that, to him, showed her off beautifully. Her midsection was bare, and that gave him... musing thoughts. His eyes moved up to her face, stark white hair and violet eyes framed perfectly by what might've been a necklace. If only he could hold her. If only he could catch her, let her know that he'd be there, he'd do anything if it meant she would be happy, that she might learn to accept him with all his mistakes and flaws. If only he could tell her that he loved her. If only it wasn't forbidden, else he'd climb onto a tavern roof and shout it to the setting sun. He noticed how long he was staring at her and looked away. Stop. His thoughts... they just weren't that bold. They never had been. So why were they changing now? Did it have something to do with his burning chest? Wait. His chest. It wasn't like that normally. Think. An allergy? He had none. Wren's fire? It didn't last that long. Think. Poison. Someone had to have poisoned him- by touch. When had he got in contact with someone? The only one he'd gotten close enough to was... no. Topaz. He knew she didn't have poison. But her dragon did. He had a vial by his side to combat that, right? Reaching down, he managed to grasp the small bottle. Antidote.
It hit him like an earthquake. Falling to the ground, he dropped the vial and reached at his chest, trying to stop the tearing, trying to stop the feeling of his whole body being ripped apart from the inside. He could barely control his arms and legs at this point- it took all of his control to stop himself from screaming and convulsing like a madman. His limbs still trembled, chest bare and lined from his nails.
It was a long time before he could give a message. Wren. The sound was desperate, soft, strained. But it was enough. She came skidding over, ramming into the surprisingly hard wall of the healer's tent. Worriedly, she stood over him as the wave after wave slowed down, stopping and turning into a sore burn along his entire front. He wasn't surprised- newly hatched Earth dragons had incredibly potent poison, moreso than even adults.
Weak, he got up slowly on still shaking legs. Wren gave him his wing, hoisting him on her back. She moved toward the feast tent. He noticed she was rightfully hoping he could take his place at the table. Good. She was being a leader, like him. Reaching for the antidote, he saw Topaz and her dragon. And he slipped. He fell off of Wren for the second time, hands stilling with the excruciating pain of motion. There was one last twitch, one last movement of his hand before his mind started to slip from consciousness. The antidote lay right by his shoulder, unmoving hands locked for trying to move it to him. He closed his eyes. And let himself go. |
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Lightbringer
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Sol Saanvi Dayal | F | Bonded: Salacia| M: Salacia, Sana, Zeb, Topaz (ind.) For the first time, Sol felt a voice in her mind. She wanted to jerk back, shut down, anything to escape how utterly exposed she felt, but the halfling resolutely grounded herself, fixing an impassive feature on her face. Her thoughts were always her own, by the mercy of the spirits, and so as long as she remained stocic in her exterior, she really didn't have to worry about gaurding her internal emotion. But now? Well. It was different, now, and she wasn't exactly a fan of the whole telepathy thing. Cool magical and whatever? Oh, sure. And, of course, the bonus of intrusive voices and a complete disregard of privacy! She already had plenty of intrusive thoughts, be it her mind insisting she was going to violently stab her mother, and a dragon in her head only added to the complications. She hadn't even figured out how to wall of her internal expression yet. Right, and headfirst into the cycle of a brilliant endless pursuit of knowledge. Looking forward to it. Having only recently recovered the mess she was inside, the words finally registered with Sol. The dragon... called me... Halfing? A bleeding Halfing? Feeling a laugh surge upwards, Sol turned away, composing her features. "How perceptive," she quipped, only to flinch away from her own words. It felt... wrong, to offer any sort of cruel words to her life partner. It was nearly second nature, now, the sarcasm - to snap at others before they could do the same. "Sorry, little dragon. It's been an... eventful day. And you? What's your name?" She found a seat at the table, near the human with the Earth hatcling. Her clothes were unimpressive and dirtied, and Sol really couldn't care else - even if Sana and Zeb, in particular, looked stunning. This was Sol, and she wouldn't be wearing any borrowed silk - this was how she was, no matter how much she, or anyone else, could hate it. And anyways, all aside from that poetic thought, she didn't have anything to change into. |
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Darkseeker
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Orrian Cypress Tordi | M | Elf | M: Howl, Galladis, It had been said (well more like implied) that Orrian was to hold onto the egg, and so he did. It was unbearable, hauling the freezing heavy egg around as if writhed in its shell. In fact, it was sitting on a seat as he straightened the collar of the green silk shirt he was wearing. That, and the black trousers he wore would probably make up one of the more boring outfits of the night. Good, the last thing Orrian had on his mind was being gawked at. Although it had been insisted that he wear something interesting, so the elf was obliged to adorn his plain attire with miscellaneous pieces of rose gold jewelry. The most notable of which being a fine body chain that was draped over his shoulders. Elven work was noted for being made up of tiny and intricate pieces. Then Sanasiliare asked if he was getting dressed. Typical. Something like bemusement hinted his tone when he responded "dressed? I'm already dressed, although I can see why you'd think otherwise." Orrian hissed a curse under his breath as the egg nearly slid from his hands. "Why exactly I have to still hold onto this thing, only Levandäl knows." He ducked around the tall elf--she was obviously peeved about something--and slid into a seat across from the elven halfing. The woman looked more than a little distracted with the water hatchling in her arms. She hasn't even changed. It took a moment of wondering for it to dawn on him. Levandäl, she probably doesn't have anything to change into. Something like mild bemusement crossed his face as he slid a bowl of dried fruit in her direction, trying to make conversation. "Miss Water Buffalo," he murmured, voice even as he made a jab at her comment earlier with mild bemusement. "Firae, it's elven, from Keenan. Adjusting to bonding, eh?" Orrian desperately needed a distraction from the headache that he could feel creeping into the back of his skull. There was a moment's lull in the talking and festivities of the night, as if the room knew something bad was about to happen. Then the Dragonborn hit the floor. After a moment of stunned silence, Orrian was on his feet, the egg left sitting on the table. The palm of his hand hit the table with a loud whack as he snapped something in the elven tongue at the nearby guards. He continued his instructions in elven at the crowd that was quickly growing around the fae. It wasn't until eyes turned to him in confusion that he realized that he was still speaking in elven. Embarrassing. Orrian set his jaw, and snapped to the crowd "Back, now. Someone get the healer. I need an elf over here now, someone that knows what they're doing."
(short kinda transition post bc idk what to do with him e.e) |
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Neutral
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Manon Alina Sarranas | F | Ikona | M: Ikona, Topaz, Sol Manon had managed to lose herself in examining her little dragon, wondering how difficult it would be to draw him. She’d never drawn a dragon before, but having a reference would surely help. She did, however, note that he did not seem to like having his feathers touched, so she ceased her petting. He wasn’t a dog, after all, and she would need to learn what dragons did and did not appreciate from their riders. He did seem to enjoy climbing on her as they had their little mental conversation. His name prompted another small, dimpled, lopsided smile from her. “Ikona? That’s a nice name.” She wondered how dragons got their names, how they instinctively knew how to communicate with their riders. She had been about to ask if he knew when one of the hatchlings attacked an elf halfling and caused their tent to come crashing down on them. Well, shit. She quickly attempted to duck out of the tent, but, having been seated at the back of the tent, she didn’t make it out quite in time and stumbled forward as it landed on her and Ikona, falling onto her stomach. He began to panic, clawing into her forearm in the process. She grit her teeth, ignoring the pain as she struggled to find a way out of their canvas trap. Thankfully, as quickly as it had come down, the tent was lifted off of her and she was able to stand. She collected Ikona in her arms once again, moving him away from her injured forearm. “Be careful with your claws, little one. My skin is far more delicate than yours.” Upon examining the damage done, she decided that the wounds were mostly superficial and did not necessitate a visit to the medics. She’d sustained far worse injuries practicing with her sword. She was, however, concerned with ensuring that she did not harm Ikona in her fall. She looked over his wings and his little legs, checking for any injuries, and found nothing to be glaringly obvious -but, then again, she was no medic. Hopefully he would inform her if he was in any pain. The sound of a dragon’s roar prompted her to jerk her head in the direction of the judges’ table. A feast? Right. The timing was a bit... chaotic, but Manon was growing quite hungry, so she thought she ought to go and change. Ikona managed to grab her attention by tugging on her hair to ask his questions. “There’s a feast to celebrate you and the other dragonlings hatching. It’s a formal event though, so I’ve got to go change clothes.” Her mother had a foresight that she lacked, and as such had insisted she bring something formal to wear, which she left briefly to go change into. A way to look, as she so lovingly put it, “like a lady and not a homeless vagabond”. It didn’t take much to get herself together, as Manon was a natural beauty, but enhancing it with fancy clothing was always nice. Plus, in her personal opinion, Manon looked gorgeous in…well, everything. But she liked gold in particular. After a few minutes, Manon returned. She’d brushed her thick, short hair, and tousled it in a way that framed her face beautifully, and picked an elegant white dress for the event. The white complimented her color palette in a lovely way, with her tan skin and striking blue eyes. The top was form-fitting, with the collar wrapped around her neck and attached to the rest of the dress by two strips of fabric and a sweetheart neckline that left the upper part of her chest bare. The straps were off the shoulders, but with loose, sheer sleeves attached to gold cuffs on her wrists and upper arms. A belt of the same gold hue separated the tight top from a loose, flowing bottom that reached all the way down to her feet. It was slitted up each side to show off her toned legs and the black sandals she wore with the dress. All in all, it showed off her curves and muscle tone quite well, as would be expected by anyone who knew Manon well. While she wasn’t often one for formal clothing, she enjoyed showing off her money and beauty when the situation allowed for it. She had collected Ikona and set him back on her shoulders before she left. Fortunately, it was a relatively short walk to get back to the feast, and she soon found herself looking across the table for an open seat. She found one near two women, a half-breed with the water dragon and what appeared to be a human with the earth dragon. They seemed like decent enough people from what little she had seen of them so far, so she walked over and took the nearest open seat to them. A few people were dressed nicely, the dragonborn apprentice and the female elf in particular, though they both seemed considerably more dressed down. Rather than trying to start a conversation, however, Manon grabbed something to eat from the table, offering little things to Ikona to see what he might like. |
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Darkseeker
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Sanasiliare Areauveçh Latitharen | F | Elf Judge | Esse, Aroa, Galladis, Randi (briefly), Sol, Orrian (briefly) Sana looked around. Food? Well, the table was covered in it. Clearly. It had everything from no-limits food for humans to vegetarian elves. Not that she was vegetarian. She ate anything that was ended humanely. Despite her upbringing, she wasn't a monster. Not even Kur could have eaten something killed horifically.
She tossed an apple to Æschylus, gesturing for him to sit down at the table. He'd certainly be... interesting company to have. "Did you plan on bonding?" Looking down at the little dragon, she noticed how she held herself against him. She seemed... shy. Their personalities matched up well. There was a commotion by the entrance of the tent, and she looked over quickly as she saw the Dragonborn on the ground. Orrian was shouting for help? Sure. Like that would ever happen. Casually, she picked up a drink in front of her and stared into it, nearly chugging it when she finally decided to ignore whatever was going on. She didn't have to help him. He wasn't her leader. Randi was, but she was as much a nutcase as Kur was evil. Looking over to others sitting at the table, she gave a sharp nod to the other halfling she'd seen earlier. Her clothes weren't the best, but Sana chose to ignore them and picked up a leg of pork. She watched it. It was taunting her. How dare it make her want to eat! Well if you're gonna give me that kind of sass you don't deserve to be eaten. She hurled the pork chop across the room, and had to stifle a laugh as it hit one of the Fae guards. He looked a little mortified, then puzzled as it disintegrated into ash. Then he was poking it with his spear. Well that certainly dims the tension, eh? She looked over at Alkannis, off to one side of the table with some meat he'd managed to grab. He was just as unfazed by the whole scene as she was. That's my fowl.
The attire of the halfling she'd previously talked to caught her attention again. It needed some serious work. Well no one better than me for a clothes change. With a twitch of her hand, she changed the clothes on the halfling from trader's garb to deep, black robes, accentuated with separate lines of pale blue and blue lilac. She was trying to incorporate both the look of the halfling and her dragon- it wasn't going great, but it was something. There was another, coral pink line of color tracing around the edges, much like the gold trimming on her own clothes.
When she was done, she smirked at the sight. That halfling did not fit those kind of clothes. Though it did at least make her presentable. She waved over to her, dipping her head- half in respect, and half to hide her grin. "By the way, I don't believe I ever caught your name." She did look... familiar. There was a good chance she'd met one of her parents- Sana had been everywhere, and she may or may not have met relatives of everyone here. She hadn't loved where that came from. Touching her hand to her eye, the wound, still raw and red, painfully throbbed against her eye. It was a miracle she still could see out of both eyes, really. Hveit didn't love her by any means. He'd always wanted her dead, but Kur forced him to keep her alive. But she didn't have him now. A flash of obsidian talons crossed her vision, blood staining the color in her eye as she tried to blink. It had nearly brought her to purposeful tears for the second time in her life. As she rounded the bend in the road, she pulled her horse to a stop. "Calm, Ene'kari." Patting his side, she stepped down and looked at what was in front of her. Three men were trying to... kill? a woman. Two were holding her arms and legs, while the third had a large knife and seemed to be chanting. The two men holding her down were clearly inebriated, as she could tell they were at a tavern from here. The third raised his knife. But before he could bring it down on the woman, she bodyslammed into him and knocked him off balance. Taking his knife, she cut it clean across his midsection before throwing it at one of the other two. It hit him in the skull, knocking him to the ground. He didn't move. The final man looked at the scene and ran, shouting that he'd seen the Hveit Dhæmonni. Flattering. "Are you alright?" She dropped a hand down to the woman, helping her to her feet.
"They were coming after me... for my daughter. They know what she is. They'd call her deihnmoh. Devil. I left her at home, because she'd be better of with no mother than dead." At this, Sana cocked her head. She didn't know much about the mother daughter bond- she'd never met her own mother- but it was at least a little touching to hear the care in her voice. "Would you like me to escort you to your house?" The woman smiled. "Thank you for saving me, an escort would be helpful. I don't know what Sol would do if I never came back." Well then. That was unexpected. She knew she'd met a lot of people... but she had no idea she'd saved Sol's mother. It could have been anyone, yet the similarities were too much. The woman she saved looked unmistakably like the halfling- Sol- and she seemed around the right age. She did nearly spit up her drink when she realized it though. She knew Sol. She knew Sol. She knew Sol. Of all the things that could happen. |
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Darkseeker
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Camila Kirsi Moncello | F | 20 | Human | B: Aibek | M: I'm vibing to music right now so who knows (Sol, Sana, Topaz Aibek)
Camila had been so stunned when the moon dragon, Aibek, spoke to her that she froze up. Somehow it'd taken this long for her to truly realize that she was bonded. There was always the chance that he had bonded with someone else near and just saw her first... but not anymore.
We're in a tent in the capital of Saenor... I'm a human, those with the pointy ears are elves and the short ones with the sharp teeth are fae.
She explained and gave Aibek a small smile after pulling herself out of her stunned state, but stopped at Aibek's last question. Why was she here? she should have just stayed at home. The amount of trouble she would get into almost sent her into a panic. Her parents would give her the blame for her brother not bonding at best, at worst they would take Aibek away, trap her in her room, and try to force the moon dragon and her brother to bond.
Before Camila could answer the last question all hell broke loose. A grey hatchling, the storm dragon she guessed, attacked a rather short... halfling girl, who had stumbled backward and knocked out one of the poles holding up the tent.
Everything after that was a blur of action and movement.
Just as quickly as the tent fell the adult Moon dragon, the Dragonborn's dragon had used its wings to lift it up. Camila had been seated near a different pole, so the tent hadn't collapsed on her, thankfully.
After a while, everything calmed down and she heard people mention something about a dinner.
Of course.
Nine people had bonded with dragons today, of course there would be a dinner to celebrate.
Though Camila had thought about just running and missing the dinner... or just running and not ever coming back so she wouldn't have to deal with her parents, the noble in her knew that was wrong.
She had chosen to go to the bonding ceremony at her own risk, and now she had to take responsibility as a noble and a dragon rider.
Good thing she was wearing a presentable dress beneath her cloak. She'd been worried that if her brother had bonded he would go straight home to celebrate with her family and they would want her well dressed, and she knew she wouldn't be able to run home, change and dress up quickly enough.
Camila left the tent with the others, hugging Aibek close to her body.
We're going to a dinner in a few minutes to celebrate your and the other hatchlings'... hatch day. I just need to find somewhere secluded before we go, Aibek.
It was probably dumb, and Camila knew the other riders would definitely judge her as a snotty noble, but it was what her parents would do, and so, finding the first spot shielded from the public eye she put Aibek down and took off her cloak.
The dress underneath was white with silver and blue accents and beads, the skirt wasn't poufy, as the cloak wouldn't have been able to cover it, but wasn't skin tight. The dress left her arms bare, with frilled lace straps around her shoulders and a deep neckline. The dress was perfectly tailored for her and accented every curve, and though Camila preferred brighter colors, the white dress was quite nice. The only thing that ruined the look were the brown boots she was wearing. They clashed far too much with the pale dress, but she didn't have time to return to her home. At least her hair looked good when it was open.
Camila was a noble, and nobles needed to make their presence known. They needed to draw eyes and command respect.
She picked up Aibek again, apologizing for the constant moving before guiding him to her shoulder. She liked holding him, but having the dragon sit on her shoulder looked much more regal.
Alright, little guy, time to make ourselves known.
Stepping out of the shadows she made her way to the feast, giving the fake noble smile her parents had taught her to the guards, an entered the hall.
There were a few of the riders already there. So far it appeared as though Camila, an unfamiliar fae, and the dragonborn's apprentice... Zeb she believed, were the only ones who had thought to dress well for the occasion. Pursing her lips she lifted her head and walked down the hall towards the tables, eyeing the people that food and the people that were there.
The perfect appearance for a snotty noble.
She watched an elf throw a piece of chicken towards a fae guard and then change the common clothes of the halfling that had been attacked by the storm dragon to black robes.
Though her parents would frown upon her doing this, she sat down next to them.
As a fellow dragonbonded, she should interact with them, even if they were common.
"Hello, my name's Camila, from the Moncello family" she offered a start to a conversation for whoever wanted to join her as she carefully placed small portions of food on her plate, as well as a large piece of meat for Aibek on the side should he want it. |
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Darkseeker
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Strom | F | B: Topher | Storm Dragon| M: Still vibing to music (Topher and a few others)
Strom was not happy. Strom was very not happy. She'd underestimated the two-legged creature. She hadn't expected it to move so quickly and besides landing a blow to its head and neck, she merely clawed open the dark-haired shoulder. When the creature ran Strom used it as a chance to use her wings and jumped. She wasn't strong enough to fly just yet, though using her wings for momentum did give her extra airtime and height, but that creature was smarter than she thought, and before Strom knew what was happening it moved to the side and she was outside of the flappy cave.
Everything after that happened in a blur. She remembered seeing a metal dragon hatchling running out of the flappy cave after her, and then one of the two-legged creatures, which most definitely wasn't Topher. It was missing all the extra eyes. Strom had struggled in the creature's grip, though it didn't seem to be bothered and instead handed her over to her bonded. She didn't miss the metal dragon's growl though, and the second she heard it whipped her head around and replied with an angry screech.
Strom may have been young, but she had instincts, and those instincts told her that to survive one had to pick the weakest prey. The strong ones fought back and could wound you, even defeat you, and failing at a kill meant no food.
She felt the amusement from Topher when she was handed over to him and snorted angrily in his face just as he winced. At first, Strom had thought it was because of her snort, that she had hurt the many-eyed creature, but then she felt a small pain in the back of her head. Something was hurting Topher... one of his other names, the other minds that she felt in the back of her head.
Without thinking Strom had smacked Topher in the middle of the face. Out! Only Strom was allowed to hurt him.
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Lightbringer
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Howl | Ice dragon | Bonded: Orrian | Mentions: Orrian He wiggled a bit trying to arrange himself in a different position, but he felt trapped. He continued to turn around, but there appeared to be no easy way out. He squiggled more, because the formerly warm, snug, comfortable safe place, was becoming frightening. He didn't know the outside world, but he was being forced to do something about it. He could feel the connection with his partner. He was sending dread, fear, and anxiety across their bond. He began to try to peck at the shell. It was so hard, and he couldn't see any change made to the inside. The more he tried, the more tired he became, and he had to take a rest break. He kept working at it. Finally, he cracked the shell open. He stuck his snout out, trying to detect danger. He would be exhausted, wet, and weak, once predators realized he was out of the shell. He continued to work at the outside. Accidentally, he flopped onto the table, and heaved in for air, clearing his lungs of whatever had been in them, while he was in the egg. He began to wail a little once he got his breath back. Normally, the young dragon would be fed by the mother to build up his strength in his early moments, but Howl didn't know if the beings around him would do that. He began struggling toward the meat on a platter that was quite far away. With a singular mind, he dragged himself and rested. Food. During one of his resting periods, he looked around, and the sound and movements became more absorbed by his little brain. He froze. At the top of his lungs he began to squawk and screech. His squawk was reminiscent of a small angry cockatiel, but his screech was breathy and could be compared to the sound of a windy raging storm. Where was his caretaker? His wet mucus covered body was a delightful view for those who were dining, and he left a slime trail that could have been the result of a group of slugs and snails. It was slowly drying. He tried to stretch out his weak, thin, wet, crumpled little wings, and his mouth stayed perpetually open. |
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Neutral
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Topher Kyan-Tacitus Rambo-Renma | Elf/Queen's Child | M | B; Strom | Mentions; Strom, Randi(Ind.), Galladis(Ind.), Orrian(Ind.), Basically lots of people but they're mostly all Ind. Strom smacked him. That, more than anything surprised him. Renma quit the burning sensation and seemed to be staring at Strom from within the shared mind, not angry nor confused. A dead fish eye kind of stare. And then a voice came through the bond, it sounded the most ancient of the voices that had made an appearance so far. -- I do not believe the youngling understands much. She holds only instinctual knowledge. I suggest Rambo teaches her a few things... -- Topher could practically hear Rambo looking up and grinning, that was how obvious the four were with their mannerisms. Teach? The storm dragon? Me? Ooohhhh, that sounds like fun! -- Topher blinked his obsidian orbs and looked at Strom, whispering out loud to the dragonling. "I am so sorry that you got stuck with us." -- And then Galladis was speaking about the feast, fancy and formal. He rolled his dark orbs, like hell he would dress up for something like that. He'll wear the same thing he's wearing right now. He knew his mother would be wanting him to wear something nice, after all. So why not do the opposite and wear what he was already wearing? -- So he went and took a seat immediately instead, watching as the others went and did their own thing. Now, of course, the feast had meats and vegetables because of the other species. And since Topher was an elf, and the elf prince no less, he should eat just the herbivorous things. But, he was staring and trying to decide just how much he wanted to push his luck. If it were Kyan or Rambo, it wouldn't be a hard decision at all. Kyan would just do it, no matter what anybody thought. And Rambo would've done it discreetly, 'for science'. Even Tacitus wouldn't have trouble deciding, Tacitus would just stick with the traditional beliefs! Renma was a more difficult case, Renma would probably just not eat any of it. -- Topher huffed and decided to simply eat the herbivorous bits, there wasn't any reason to go that far in proving points. No matter how much Rambo and Kyan thought there was. He could already hear the bickering between the two again. Tuning them out he decided to try and pull Tacitus up to the front of their mind, knowing that he couldn't just be quiet and on his own forever. -- Tacitus, come on, get over yourself and say hi to Strom. Not look she's going anywhere, aye? -- He received no reply for a while, and Topher was just about to accept defeat when something snaked through. A voice that was quieter, more mumbling than actual speaking. -- F-Fine... Uh... Hi, Strom... -- And then Galladis was falling off their dragon and chaos was coming into the tent once again. One of the judges, an elf one, started going off in elf about getting help, before switching back to the common language and telling people to get help for the Dragonborn. -- He simply stared, glanced at Strom, and then decided that this wasn't as important as keeping an eye on his troublemaking dragonling. He didn't want a repeat of early after all, and neither did Renma- That part was already obvious. |
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Lightbringer
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Aztiello Menlo | M | Elf | Bonded: Aelius | Mentions: Aelius, Sol Aztiello panicked a bit after the collapsing of the den. He tried to find a place that was more peaceful, so he could enjoy time with his dragon. There was no one in there he was particularly concerned for. It had been quite the oversight. Why had they put newborns in such a flimsy contruction? He made sure that Aelius was fed. He wasn't sure what the plans were previously, but the ice dragon hadn't hatched yet, and it appeared that they were going on with the process. Had he messed up the little dragon, or had something good come of it? He hadn't brought any particularly nice clothing with him. At the moment he was wearing brown pants, and a green tunic with a brown vest overtop. His boots were very worn in, and flexible. He was wearing pretty nondescript street clothing, trying to blend in the best he could. Would his family be invited to watch? He had no idea. He didn't want to change. He supposed wearing clothes not according to dress code could make him stand out, but then so could wearing fancy clothing. He ended up keeping his shoes and pants, but exchanging his shirt and vest out for a light blue tunic. There was some embroidery on the cuffs, and he thought it looked good. Blue was one of his favorite colors to wear. He made sure that he was clean. He wasn't sure what he needed to do to prepare his dragon. As he approached the feast, he felt uncomfortable, since he wasn't supposed to be here. A lot of people shouldn't have bonded, but he didn't know that. He was afraid that someone would persecute him for his decisions. He wouldn't blame them, but he would like to shrink from the possible encounter. He found a place to sit where he could watch the events unfold, and stay out of sight. "Are you hungry Aelius?" He noticed someone, who looked sort of like a exotic human. He studied her, trying to figure it out. He never would have imagined that he would meet a halfling. Since he was hungry, he began to approach the table. Where was he supposed to sit? Was there any order? He watched the chaos with Orrian's egg ensue. He knew he couldn't help, so he stayed further back. He tried to ignore the screeching of the newly hatched Howl. "How are you?" he asked Sol, but sort of kept it open to the group. "Dragons have definitely made life more interesting. Tent, dinner." He was used to an exciting lifestyle, but dragons could bring unwanted drama. She seemed a little distracted, and he wasn't sure if he should interrupt. |
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Winter 
Day 
Blizzard
