Egg Name and Description
Tools of the Trade Egg
Deep shadows envelop this egg, as if it has been shrouded in perpetual darkness. Multiple hues of gray are the most predominant, shading from dark charcoal to thundercloud to dull iron, with small patches of matte black trimmed with bright chrome at top and bottom. Within the murky grays other colours appear, oddly highlighted half-shapes as if a light has been swiftly passed over them. Just enough to make out hints of detail, but not enough to reliably identify anything. Deep cracked brown like old leather; woven beige like rough canvas sacking; a spill of granular white; a reflective sheen, shimmering faintly, like water-filled glass; a shock of yellow, lifting spout-like from a curve of red; dark grooves like stained wood grain, tapering into a sharp point; a random scattering of bits of cylindrical brass. And more, so much more, too much for the eye to fully take in. So much mystery in each half-formed image, answers hinted at but none forthcoming.
Demands of Destiny
Demands of Destiny bursts into your mind without warning, just /there/ where only a moment before there was nothing. A quiet strength and sense of purpose is carried with it as it moves inexorably through your thoughts, observing, weighing, measuring. It cares not for your motives or desires, interested only in your sense of duty, of obligation. Disobedience, defiance? Troubled by these hints of contention within you it retreats as abruptly as it arrived.
Demands of Destiny is back, though there's no telling how long it's been sitting quietly in an empty corner of your mind. Maybe it never really left at all? It seems troubled now, pensive and uncertain. Questions have been raised and with them, a sense of discomfort. Shades of gray have been introduced into its world, blurring the line between duty and honour. Within you, it searches for answers, pinging against your sense of what is right and what is wrong. Does it need guidance, or do you? Doubting and suddenly afraid, it vanishes again.
Demands of Destiny returns with a rush, a vast and looming presence that could easily overwhelm but holds itself back. Delving deeper than it has before, roaming through your heart in search of the answers to its questions. Love, family, loyalty, friendship: these are things that it knows and yet doesn't fully understand. Do they pull you down or lift you up? Unable to decide if they prevent you from doing what must be done, or provide the reason to risk all for the sake of an unknown future. Maybe you will be the one to show it the truth. Or maybe you are not what it believes you to be. Only time will tell, but it cannot remain a part of the journey. And just like that, it's gone.
There's no subtlety to the Tools of the Trade Egg. One moment still, the next it's shuddering and shaking, tiny avalanches of sand spilling down from the small ridge that cradles its base.
With only a few pauses, the Tools of the Trade Egg has been rocking, rocking, rocking. The wallow of sand that held it in place has been almost entirely eroded away, and with an extra-vigorous wobble, the egg tips over onto its side, a wide horizontal crack appearing across what was formerly the base.
Glimpses of talons and toes, the tip of a nose, have been making infrequent appearances from within the Tools of the Trade Egg. Slowly but surely that crack has grown longer, curling around the sides. It's taken some work, but finally it's become wide enough. As if the cover to an underground passage has been thrown aside with incredible strength, the top half of the egg flies off as the hatchling within bursts free with dramatic flare, only to immediately trip and go tumbling tail over snout with a startled squawk.
Hatchling Name and Description
Of Course Monsters Are Real Green Hatchling
A dark, murky phthalo green cloaks this ungainly dragon in perpetual shadow, the gray-tinged shade uniform over the majority of her body. Unlovely in many respects, she appears as if her skeleton were somehow twisted, with bones either too short or too long thrown together to create the finished product. Her head is long, narrow through the muzzle and broad across the brow, eyes seeming too large and sunken beneath jutting ridges. Malformed spots of hunter green create a scabrous effect across her cheeks and brow, clinging also to stunted headknobs and the sharp spikes of her spinal ridges. Her neck is short in comparison to the rest of her body, seeming almost too skinny when matched to the breadth of her strong shoulders. Thick forelegs bow outward at the elbows, lowering her chest toward the ground and making her appear as if she's always mere moments away from charging forward. Her hindquarters are heavy with powerful muscle, rising higher than her shoulders, legs long and clearly built for launching into spectacular leaps. All four feet are caked with an uneven spread of earthy brown, long toes appearing even longer due to her narrow, sharp obsidian talons. Her tail is thick but long until the forked tip, the prongs stubby and one visibly shorter than the other. Often held tightly against her back and sides, unfurled her wings are large, stained with brown along their undersides, closest to her body.
Public Impression Message
Private Impression Message
In the space between heartbeats time suddenly seems to stand still, frozen at the moment when your eyes meet those of the ugly green before you. A blink and a breath, and while part of you remains aware that you're still standing upon the Sands, surrounded by people, you find the majority of your consciousness has been transported somewhere else. Somewhere dark, the mingled scents of smoke, dead leaves and freshly turned earth tickling your nose. Frightening, a little bit spooky, were it not for the presence that stands there with you, invisible at your side. « I've got your back, Ma'am, » a husky voice growls. « Yeah, it's me: Sasoveth. » Of course it is. Like a piece you never realised was missing has clicked into place, she fills and completes you, seeing, knowing, and accepting all that you are. « You and me, we're a team. Now get a move on, I'm hungry! » With an odd feeling as if you've been clapped on the back, you're back inside your own head, hunger that isn't yours cramping your belly, with Sasoveth's wing curled companionably around you.
Personality / RP Tips
As ever, these are merely guidelines meant to illustrate the intended personality. This is /your/ dragon now, to be played how you wish, so if any elements within don't fit with your desires, go ahead and change or discard them! Most importantly, have fun! :)
From the day she's hatched, Sasoveth is going to be a handful, full of bravado and a brazen confidence. It's mostly bluster and show, at least in those early days as she learns about the world and her place in it. She'll depend upon you to provide her with the answers she needs, unabashed about asking you questions, full of 'why's and 'how's. You'll find you need to be careful about how you answer, for she's swift to solidify her opinions and slow to change them, accepting what you say as The Way Things Are and defending any challenge with « Because Ma'am said so, that's why! » or « But that's not what you said before! »
The more she learns and experiences, the more you'll find she's a take charge kind of gal, quick to take the lead in any situation where she perceives hesitation when decisions are required. Nor will she hesitate to argue in favour of her plan of action if she doesn't agree with what's set to go down, pushing her point until she either gets her way or is forced to back down by irrefutable proof that hers is not the better, or only, way; is simply out-stubborned; in rare cases, forced to acknowledge that her opponent is more powerful, be it literally, figuratively, or both. With a blunt delivery and an impatience for those who don't immediately see things her way, she frequently displays a lack of respect for others, regardless of rank. It will be up to you to teach her some restraint, especially if you wish to remain out of trouble, for she won't hold in her flippancy or opinions even when speaking to Nziekilth, never mind Szayelth.
It won't all be conflict and throwing her weight around, however. Even when they drive her crazy — « Just who does Isanath think she is?! Stuck up talking fingerroot. When I'm through with her, the only thing she'll be good for is going in a salad! » — she has a deep loyalty to and love of her siblings, though only you will ever see the true strength of the connection she feels. Unwilling to make herself appear vulnerable or weak, outwardly her affection is gruff, hidden within humourous insults. « Well, you're just a smack upside the head with a bucket o' sparkle and sass, ain't ya, Mzath? » But just as she would for you, she'll drop everything should they be in need, taking up their battles as if they were her own. Littlest in the clutch she may be, but she has a very big sisterish attitude, seeing it as her job, her /duty,/ to look out for and protect them. No matter how impossible a task that is, or whether they want her to or not. « Geeze, Vaniveth'll believe /anything!/ Someone's got to look out for the kid, and if not me, then who? »
This protective attitude will extend to you, but unlike with her siblings, she'll actively try to guide you, more mother than sister. « What, are you just going to laze about all day? Comb your hair, boy, you look like the business end of a mop. » It may come out sounding harsh, but she means well and truly has your best interests at heart. « So you get a stipend now, hoo-friggin-ray. What're you gonna do when you've lost it all in some bet and discover you need something? Pay for it with a charming smile? I don't think so. » Poor though her phrasing is, there is never a lack of love beneath the words, however tactless. It's when she's /not/ talking that you'll know you're really in trouble. If ever she's truly disappointed in you, she won't need to speak; you'll /know./ The way she looks at you with her head tilted /just so/ and the quiet mental sigh that carries with it the creak of leather and dry scent of hot dust, combined into a subtle weight of disapproval that tells you she expects better.
Her approach to lessons and training varies depending on how interesting she finds a given topic or task. Anything involving books, no way. « Ugh, Ma'am, /more/ studying? Why do you have to know all this crap, anyway? It's not like you're ever going to use it. » might be a complaint during lessons on etiquette at formal events, preceding an attempt to get you to put away the books and go find something less tedious to do. Like kick back on the beach. Learning formations will also be something she attempts to find excuses to skip out on, becoming impatient with the endless repetition, for she's quick to master the patterns and detests being held back by slower learners. Hunting and flying, however, she's all over, her instincts serving her well both in the pens and in the air. She's not as flash as her brother Kolath, but she'll give him a run for his money, revelling in the competition that forces her to keep her skills honed. « Prettier doesn't mean better, Chuckles! » She'll be just as keen when it comes to your self defence training, watching from the sidelines, alternately cheering you on and heckling you, as well as offering advice and predicting moves. « Keep your guard up, bonehead, and pay attention. When he drops his shoulder it means he's going for a kidney shot; block it! »
She gets on better with the males, though she doesn't try to /be/ one. She just doesn't much see the point in pursuing those more supposedly 'feminine' behaviours that, in her own words, « Would be like putting a dress on a porcine. » Amused by Mzath's flamboyance and flirtations, but she'd never try to mimic them — and truth be told, she shares your discomfort in overt displays of affection, often piping up with a sarcastic comment or off-colour joke meant to embarrass, hopefully breaking up whatever hugfest is happening. Which isn't to say she won't enjoy garnering attention from the males as she gets older, should any be perceptive enough to look beyond her exterior. She just wants to be appreciated for who she is and what she can do, not how well she can puff up someone's ego.
Her brash attitude will be leavened by the wisdom that comes with experience, her confidence becoming less show and more real the less dependent upon you she becomes. No longer always looking to you for direction and answers, she'll begin to make her own investigations and explore her own pursuits, as well as being able to check herself and not always blunder into a confrontation without knowing who and/or what she's up against. Though there will always be those instances where her mouth is faster than her head, and once the mistake has been made she's swift to improvise as if it were intentional, reluctant to admit when she's in the wrong. If it all works out in the end, what does it matter, anyway? And if it doesn't, well, she won't like it, but she'll apologise.
There will be a certain dichotomy in her attitude about herself, for while she doesn't believe that she's any better or worse than anyone else, she chafes at being the low man — er, dragon — on the totem pole. Leading others comes naturally to her, and while her flippant, blunt speech is often perceived as arrogance, it's not about her own ego. She cares, far more deeply than she will ever admit to any but you, and she wants to do right by those she considers to be under her charge. At first only limited to her clutchsibs, this feeling will expand as she grows to include the entire Weyr, despite her being 'only' a green, and eventually she'll have a decidedly proprietory outlook toward the entirety of Ista's coverage area — and possibly even beyond.
This protectiveness would have served her well in the days when Thread still fell, and having a clear enemy to fight would have given her a sense of purpose of meaning. In these Thread-free days, you'll need to seek another outlet for these tendencies, for she'll never truly be content with a peaceful life. Though she'll try; oh, how she'll try, if she believes it's what you want and what is best for you. It could be her needs will help you discover what it is you want to do with your life, or at the very least, give you a better idea of what you /don't/ want to do with it. You may find yourself at odds with her, as she'll fight for what she wants, but if she doesn't have your support one hundred percent, eventually she'll back down. Of course, that's not a one way street. Just as she respects your loyalty, so to does she respect that you are the master of your own destiny. She might disagree, forcefully and loudly, but if you really want something, whatever is in her power to help you achieve it, she'll do.
Despite, or perhaps because of, her ability to take command and make others listen to her, working within the structure of a wing will be a hardship. She is not a follower, and she doesn't play well with others. « There might not be an 'I' in 'team,' but there sure as shards is a 'me!' » Though she's learned respect, it's something that must be earned before she'll give it, and it's a prize hardwon. Even then, if she disagrees with or doesn't see the point of an order, she'll argue it. If it's not a replacement strategy or at least a compromise she's after, it's an explanation, and she won't be satisfied until she gets one. "Because I said so." is only an acceptable answer when /she/ is the one giving it.
Contrary to many greens, when proddiness comes upon her, she gets /less/ intense rather than more. Hers is a slow process, perhaps three days of growing progressively more mellow. Even in this, she fails to find the appeal in flirting, and any male who mistakes the growing brightness of her hide as an invitation to get overly familiar could find himself bit for his trouble. And mellow doesn't mean lazy, either. It just means that she's not as driven to go out and 'do the job,' whatever that may be for the pair of you. This is when she's most easily convinced to go for a long fly or a swim just for the sake of it, taking pleasure in the downtime. And if company comes along to enjoy the activity with her, all the better. When the actual time to rise is upon her, it will happen sudden, all the intensity that had been missing returning in a white-hot rush of passion. She'll hit the pens hard, but won't linger on the blooding — may not even blood at all, just rip a beast to shreds before she launches herself into the air, taunting the gathered males to chase her if they dare. The flight itself will be fast, and she'll pull out all the stops to make it as challenging for her pursuers as possible, favouring the swiftest, most agile and tricksey among them. Once the mating urge has passed and she's safely upon the ground again, there will be no special attachment to the male who won her. It was a fling, a spot of a fun, and now that they've both been satisfied she'll send him on his way with a risque thank you and swat to the backside.
Through all the ups and downs, hot and cold spells, trials and triumphs you experience together, there will always be one unwavering, irrefutable truth: you are a team. Perhaps it was your loyalty, your willingness to do whatever it took to remain in a place you wanted to be, your determination to live your life the way /you/ choose, that drew her to you, perhaps it was something deeper and more ethereal. Regardless of the reason, you are hers and she is yours, absolutely and completely, now and always.
While clearly feminine, Sasoveth's voice is definitely within the tenor range, with a husky rasp that gives a growling quality to everything she says. Her mindscape is a place of shadows and stone, damp tunnels and blind alleys, browns and grays predominant. Scent and sound emphasize the nuances of emotion in her voice: the scrape of windblown tree branches against glass; the pungency of sulphur; the steady drip of a persistent leak; the coppery-sweet tang of blood; the clatter and clink of glasses; the oddly musty-yet-sharp aroma of whiskey and beer, and so much more.
Our theme for this clutch was Companions, Partners, and Sidekicks. Within this, Tools of the Trade Egg was based on Dean Winchester and Castiel from the television series Supernatural. With his dedication to a hunter's life and his love of the Impala, it seemed only fitting that the arsenal in the trunk serve to represent Dean in the egg description, while the mindtouches were drawn from Castiel. Her personality is based on a combination of Dean and Bobby Singer. You mentioned 'wher-like' in your questionnaire, so I chose to base her physical description on the monsters within the show, while her colouration is drawn from a creepy graveyard at night. Her name, Sasoveth, is an amalgamation of 'posast lovec,' which according to the dubiousness of online translation is Slovenian for 'monster hunter.' All pieces written by Sh'koi.
I did my best to incorporate as much detail as possible, though I confess to being pretty terrible at the 'growth' style of writing personalities that you indicated a preference for. I imagine her early weyrling days as child Dean, looking up to and depending on John, while her adolescence is more like Dean during the early seasons of Supernatural, as he's learning how to live without the constant guidance of his father. With little bits of Bobby sprinkled in appropriately, to provide that parental quality you asked for. As an adult, I see her as a melding of Bobby, and Dean from the later seasons, more confident in being the driving force in his own life, and especially after having had some experience as a father-figure to Ben. Of course, these are all just the ideas I used to influence her major personality traits. She is yours to play how you wish, and you can use this additional information as guidelines, or not, as you prefer. :)
|Name||Of Course Monsters Are Real Green Sasoveth|
|Hatched||28 July 2012|