Torikath

Dragon Description

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While she can't quite achieve the full spectrum of colors given the basic rules of dragondom, this pudgy lady has made an attempt to satisfy the 'impossible combinations' with many shades of green to make up for a body that is mostly unimpressive. Short, blunt muzzle bears dottings of grassy green that slopes around jaw, the peppering reminiscent of a five o'clock shadow. It melts into a slow wash of sea green, hints of sapphire completing the watery shadings that flows over her head and down to shoulders. Her compact torso bears — rather surprisingly, given the fact that there's a lot of hide to cover — what could pass as a single shade. Bearing only slight gradations, emerald flame flickers across her back and consumes a round belly all the way back to her haunches and to the elbows of her forearms, rather like a unique coat. Fragile too-large wings can be found to bear lime-veins through the malachite meanderings. Fore and hind paws are all peridot, tipped with onyx crescent-moon talons. Plump haunches are a dark shade of olive, which tapers off into a swath of jade that consumes a thick tail. There's something capricious and unpredictable in her movements. Perhaps that accounts for the whimsical charm.


Egg Name and Description

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Heart of Chaotic Violence Egg
Chaos pervades, a dancing-traipsing-cavorting mess of shades — ranging from the baleful, blood red splatters, burgundy wine, to glaring violet, ominous storm-cloud gray, and any range in between, though those colors seem most popular. Taken singularly, none are that noteworthy or violent in and of themselves. But splashed across this shell, warring against each other, twisting and writhing like serpents, they take on a whole new perspective. A whirl of gritty tans blot out their own patch, darker than sand, whipped together by an unseen wind. Bolts of sharp, searing white, the kind popular with lightning, sheet across parts of the shell, slashing through the colors and bringing it all to a boiling mixture of aggressively frivolous turmoil. All in all, there's little pleasant to see, little to give one's stomach or one's mind rest, little to reassure that things are as they should be with this. The derangedness of it all doesn't create a passive mood. If anything, it's hostile — but how could an egg be hostile?


Hatching Message

The Heart of Chaotic Violence Egg has had enough. Not that anyone can really tell that it's that particular egg, dragonet attending, given the fog. There's a sudden loud tap — then again, then again — followed by a crackling, breaking sound, as of a dragonet forcing itself through the hole tapped open. As it does so, the egg crumples around it, and the Motley Fool Dragonet makes its way into the rainbow'd world.


Hatchling Name and Description

Motley Fool Dragonet
Lights are there. Cameras, Pern hasn't invented yet. And action comes in the form of a dragonet spilled into the light, into the fog, and into this strange new world that doesn't intimidate it in the least. Intimidation is for other people — the ones who have *noticed* that there's something out there to be worried at or about. The lights reflecting off the mist creates for an eye-catcher, something boasting a mottled array of rainbow colors: emerald, violet, sapphire, ruby, golden yellow like a hint of sun peeking through. If it notices its moment in glory, this dragonet — one on the smallish size — doesn't seem to care one way or another. It's just delighted to be here, moving with a shambling gait and jabbing muzzle to check things out.


Impression Message

Storm clouds gather on the horizon, an ominous something-or-other hinting at the back of your thoughts, nagging. Perhaps it would be easier to close your eyes to focus, but there's another pair of whirling multihued eyes taking up your field of vision, demanding that you look at *her*. And when you do, the storm clouds dissipate entirely. Lightning lashes out, sizzling and burning. It darts away, abrupt and almost playful, leaving your nerves and senses super-sensitive. The heat through your sandals is more pronounced; the scent of the air sweet, the dull drone of the stands comes clear enough that you might swear you could pick out individual voices. And your vision… Were rainbows ever so precious after a storm? There's a distinct sense of amusement, so alien but tantalizingly familiar, when the little trickster tips her head. « Susia, » is uttered in a clear contralto. « Come, come! The fire is good. Don't you think? » Flame licks again as the sense that is you-but-not-you seems to consider. « I am Torikath, but I am many things. I can be anything you want me to be! But I am your Tori. And you, Susia, you… » Joy washes out abruptly in a staggering wave, but there are no clouds that need breaking through. Not at this moment of transformation. « You are mine. And we are us! And I have found you. »


Mindvoice Name and Description

Whisks of baffling weather
Storms become her. Even in her calmer moments, the clouds rarely break (and then mainly for you, in moments of utter joy), hinting at the turmoil just over the ridge. Moods can be measured by looming cloud-cover, by rain, by the volume of thunder, and by the lightning and the complexity thereof — though that's as much a trait of hers as it is a hint at mood. Lightning striking dry timber and sparking a fire is one of her favorite images, and one you'll have grazing the back of your mind repeatedly when she can't get her paws on a more corporeal flame. She'll edge images in spits and spurts of flame, and there's often an undercurrent of electricity flowing just beneath the surface. While her imagery is rather bland to begin with, it becomes sharper and more concise once she's experienced the images she pries from your mind, and with time, she'll come to add more to her repertoire. At Eastern, there are hurricanes — which she'll perversely enjoy, no matter how much *you* might not. It will be difficult keeping her *inside* at those times. Too, she'll learn of the high-wind, destructive, funnel and twisting clouds. She'll learn of hail, of huge, blinding snowstorms (once she learns of snow). And *Faranth* will rue the day when she finds out about those huge mountains that belch fire. As for speaking tendencies, she's a pleasant contralto and tends to speak a lot and say little — in other words, she's a babbler, learning to bury straight answers in. Also, she has an irritating propensity for picking up foul language, and she'll use it when she's in a snit. Not only do some others (dragons, mainly) not *get* it, but it's fun!


Inspiration

Torikath is a jumble of things, and an inspiration I've wanted to use for a while. I'm delighted you chose her, and I do hope you like her. ^^ First thing's first. Clearly for an egg theme, we chose things of an Egyptian nature. Your Heart Of Chaotic Violence Egg was inspired by Seth, "the ancient Egyptian god of chaos, the embodiment of hostility and even of outright evil. He is also a god of war, deserts, storms, and foreign lands" (to quote gratuitously from the Encyclopedia Mythica — http://www.pantheon.org.) He peppers part of her mindvoice, too, for the storms. Tori herself is based on the Fool archetype (found in gods such as Prometheus, Loki, Coyote, etc) with specific pepperings of John Constantine, also a Trickster, created by Alan Moore for the "Swamp Thing" comics (and who eventually took up a series of his own, "Hellblazer"). So we have the coat bit of the description (he always wears a trenchcoat), her little thing for flames in her mouth (he's a chain-smoker), and the gathering of knowledge (he can find *anything*) and hoarding of a wild card (he's just a mysterious bastard). Her name comes from the Japanese word "torikkusuta", for trickster. And since I make weird connections, I thought it cool because Torikath -> Fool -> John Constantine -> Neil Gaiman (who wrote the "Sandman" comics and had John show up in a story, and who also wrote one "Hellblazer" issue) -> Tori Amos (a singer and a friend of his who references him and the Sandman in a couple of her songs), thus Tori for short. For more information on the Fool archetype, try http://members.aol.com/pmichaels/glorantha/foolsparadise.html. Since neither Tori nor John are really heavily drawn from, I'll refrain from hunting up sites for them, but I will on command. They're both very, *very* cool. ^^


Personality (RP Tips)

Dragons aren't *supposed* to be capable of getting multiple personality disorder, but by all appearances, your Torikath is just a unique individual. She has a three-fold personality that she'll whisk between. Sometimes, but only sometimes, she will angle herself towards what is appropriate — or what *you* think is appropriate — but more often, whim is all it takes to set her off. She is a creator, a transformer, a joker, a truth teller, a destroyer.
The first is relatively calm — a mostly personable if occasionally sardonic facade geared towards knowledge (if not wisdom — oftentimes, you'll have to be her common sense, at least until she's matured) and the acquiring (at all costs, which means she's the cat who's tattered and hung, but keeps going back for more abuse up to and after her last life — she'll trick people or other dragons into telling her what she wishes to know, even) and gifting of this to others. Even with this generous manner, she'll often hoard bits of things that she's learned back, since she likes having a wild card, something no one else knows. Given that she shares in all dragons' forgetfulness, she'll develop an ingenious ability to use your mind as a sort of 'storage bin'. She *knows* you remember more than she does, though you don't always remember that you remember it. It's all a matter of keeping it fresh in your mind, then refreshing herself periodically. Here, too, fire is her element. She is a mellow pyromaniac, delighted and intrigued by the tiniest blazes. There's a faintly disturbing tendency to want to *hold* fire, too. Her paws aren't quite able, but there are burning sticks and branches that she can clasp delicately in her jaws (which might end in burns on her muzzle and other things lit on fire, if you aren't keeping an eye on her). And rue the day she finds out what 'firestone' is.
Next (and most prominent in her youth) is your cheerful jokester, doing anything and everything to amuse others — and herself. This part of her is naive, free-spirited, careless, and enthusiastic to see and do … but not watching her step. She is the journeyer who, just beginning, is waving over her shoulder and not paying attention to the cliff just ahead of her feet. Problems or difficult points aren't so much ignored as simply not noticed. Perhaps it is luck that gets her out of these occasions hide intact, or perhaps it's you.
Chaos (which seems to mostly rule her proddy seasons, falling into the violence of her forbearers in her own unique way) personifies her third and most striking mask. Her temper is volatile at these times, and she can become spastically moody — destructive (though never towards other creatures) at others. You might leave your weyrling couch or your weyr, only to come back and find things in tatters. She will never have any excuse for it, only a shrug and an, « It called for this change. » And worse, she might be amused and pleased with it. It isn't destruction to her. It's *change*. From chaos springs creation. It is all a matter of finding a rhyme and reason for it, though that might at times be difficult even for you. If you're paying attention when whatever switch controls her personality is turned to this, it is possible to make her back down.
She is a fool sometimes, and a Fool all the time. Differentiate carefully.

Don't worry about the baby-fat. By about six months, she'll say goodbye and good riddance to the last of that. Her growth is actually reasonably even. There will be some points that her wings are too large for her body, perfect things to trip over, and her torso acquires a growth spurt before the rest of her — but for the most part, there's little trouble. She'll never be exactly dainty or feminine in build, however. She'll be long and large-boned (inasmuch as dragons can ever be, what with needing to get airborne), not as swift or agile in the air as others of her color, though she makes up for it with endurance and sheer bloody mindedness when she wants to put on a turn of speed on the ground or in the air. Movements will always be, for the most part, abrupt and jolting on the ground, though she can manage an air of sauntering nonchalance when she tries hard (which is a hint to you, at least, that she's trying to by sly and tricky). With growth, though, her voice will not change. She takes more after a firelizard than other dragons. Muted rumblings and blasting trumpets are for the others. She, however, prefers trills, chirps, and mild little warbles. In that, she's not a very vocal sort.

Why Susi? Understanding. You can *cope* with her own unique brand of chaos, the destruction and change and creation that she thrives on. Perhaps, someday, you can even come to understand and appreciate it. She wouldn't ask total understanding of anyone, but you she trusts to not try to change her — much. She *is* change. A change to you, a change to herself. Also in you, she sensed a person who could be responsible for her. While she'd never claim to need it, it is something of an unconscious relief to have someone to look out for her, to not have to stand alone, or with a person — a lifemate — who blends *entirely* into the chaos, or one that is strict and unbending with discipline.. Although without discipline, the situation could become immensely volatile. Tori's not really a quiet mind.


Credits

Name Cloaked Trickster Green Torikath
Dam Gold Isisth
Sire Bronze Kalerriarth
Created By Espera
Impress To Susia
Hatched August 18, 2001
Eastern Weyr
PernWorld MUSH
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