Callisto Sylverune | Captain | Bonded Illinto | Mentions:
Nicodemus, Kikimora, Newcomers, Eidothea, Akuryo (Indir.) Ian, Illinto (Dir.)
Callisto had arrived with his dragon, they were rarely separate. In fact, the only reason he did not reside with her in her nest was because of the winding path skywards that he simply could not access. Even riding her, his head would be mush by the time they made it up there. He was situated on the opposite side of the platform from his friend, waiting for the meeting to begin in stoic silence. His untattered riding clothes in place, not a hair out of place. Neither he nor Illinto had been injured in the most recent mission, something that Callisto was not particularly proud of. But the past cannot be changed, only the future could be sculpted.
That was when he heard Illinto drift into his head, soft as ever. He will start soon, then you can get some air. His eyes drifted towards where she was peeking over the platform towards him. He had always admired her spectral appearance, wispy and fleeting. Her split scales a beauty to behold, in fact he was rather proud of his partner. Even if in the academy he had been taunted, others were hunting down the biggest, aggressive monsters. Ones that could eat Illinto in a heartbeat. But when he turned around and met the purple gaze lurking behind him, his heart was won. She had silently descended behind him and chose him before he had even laid eyes upon her.
Upon Nicodemus’s commencement, his head angled to look up to where their leader stood, addressing the gathered masses with practiced confidence. He admired the way the man could address a room and keep their attention with such ease, Callisto was certainly not suited to that type of role. Far too much talking and reassuring with white lies. He preferred quiet bluntness.
The losses had been significant and members of his own unit had been severely injured and would be out of commission for a long few weeks or even months. He could have sworn that one of his members had bled out on the rubble, but she was brought back to the caves and was currently resting in bed. Somehow, she had survived, found the will power to push herself to survive. The tug of shame and guilt yanked on his mind, if he hadn't slipped off to check ahead, if he had just stayed with them. Maybe he could have lured the arrows away with Illinto, she was too quick and too bendy to hit easily. Perhaps his team could have evaded.
These emotions needed to be pushed away, compartmentalised. There was no point in feeling pity, be it for himself or others. They all knew why they were here and what they were risking by going out there on these missions. If someone decided they did not want to go anymore, they were free to stay, but there were so many young hungry spirits in this room that wanted rebellion. It was electric in the air as the announcement of a new egg hoard came across the space, murmurs of excitement cutting through the grey sombre attitude that had resided just before. More dragons was excellent news, however they would not be ready for bonding soon. For now, they had to handle the ranks that were of age.
A surplus of young dragons and unbonded riders, they made up a very large proportion of the resistance. However, there had been very few natural bondings. At the thought, his hand moved to his wrist and rubbed gently at the spot his mark was etched into his skin. At the touch, the announcement of choosing riders moved across the room. Callisto cocked and eyebrow and looked up towards their leader as he began to list names confidently. Despite the confidence, Callisto couldn’t help but wonder how many of those names were about to become a snack to a particularly feisty dragon.
As the unbonded riders began to make their way up to the platform, Callisto almost jumped out of his skin as Ian materialised from a crack in the rock quite near him. He hadn’t seen the man wiggle his way into the space, and now he was pottering over towards his dragon. Letting his initial surprise ebb away, Callisto found himself following Nicodemus’s path into the shadows with his dragon. They were talking but it was too quiet for him to make anything out.
For a few moments, he remained planted where he was and observed the unbonded and their reaction to the approaching beasts. The first woman to be approached was eerily calm despite the particularly nasty dragon that bared its fangs towards her. In fact, was she..smiling at it? She was going to a handful. After a little more studying, Callisto’s brows rose up towards his hairline. He recognised her, she was in his year at the academy. He never really spoke to her, but he knew that she had lost her fiance in one of the earlier, smaller raids before the resistance. Then not long after her huge terror of a female had been stuck down. Their cries were piercing across the fields that day. Callisto could not fathom the pain the loss of both of the most important beings in her life must have brought.
Edging his feet away from the platform, he took his time and care to avoid any incoming dragons. He was heading towards Ian and his dragon, he wanted to know if he recognised any of the chosen unbonded riders. Figuring out any of their attributes would be very helpful in deciding how they might need to be trained up.
Finally, Callisto slipped out from behind a long purple tail and lifted a hand in swift greeting.
“Ian.” He was never one for overly friendly conversation if it wasn’t required. “What are your thoughts on them?” Callisto didn’t turn to gesture towards the platform, instead he kept his eyes solidly on the pair. Only offering Eidothea a small glance, the tiniest dip of his head before he returned his pink eyes to Ian.
“Any of them promising?” His voice was level, currently he held little opinion on the bunch. Apart from maybe that woman, but she may have changed. Waiting for his answer, Callisto leaned his weight onto one leg and crossed his arms over his chest. The muscle hidden beneath pushing out a little at the constriction of the fibres. His expression plain, eyes lacking a glint of light natural lighting may have offered him, painting his eyes almost reddish.