Endless Storm Brown
Warm brown wraps this hatchling like the softest of velvets, a mellifluous ripple of colour that enshrouds him in deep chicory tones, sinks into each contour of bulky muscle, and moulds to each curve from slightly upturned nose to lengthy elegant tail. Noble brows are kissed with traceries of burnished gold, gifting him with an air of nobility, though much closer inspection is needed to show the real delicacies of his colouration. Across the sleek expanse of his belly faint copper streaks appear, minute nuances easily missed yet also appearing over muscled shoulders and haunches in some long forgotten attempt at gilding, and swallowing the sharpness of lethal talons in their entirety. Dark coffee stained limbs are longer than common for one of his length, yet lend him a certain grace of movement. A single sepia patch crests one giant wing, a faded stain that stands out brightly against his dark colouration and feathers its way down over delicate sails stretched between moss stained wingspars.
Egg Name and Description
Fly Away Home Egg
Tattered lines and jagged edges scribe evergreen trails, crossing and melding in uncertain patterns as they seek to enfold this perfectly shaped oval in a blanket of vegetation — natures deepest foliage brought to life in eggshell form. A solitary line of mottled beige edges an apparent hole at the very tip of the greenery, from which tiny specks, illusory lumps of reds and oranges, spill out and across the leafy goodness. Pinpricks of colour, identical from a distance, yet darkly speckled themselves in a myriad of freckled patterns, and boasting their own individual shadows so as to seem perched precariously — as if the slightest touch might send them tumbling to the sands below.
Hatching Message
Wobble message
Fly Away Home Egg shimmies a little, back and forth. Wiggle-wiggle. Wiggle. Who's out there having fun without it? Hold on, just a sec…!
Crack message
Fly Away Home Egg gives a little hop. Bounce! Off of another egg it goes, rolling with more energy than an egg should maybe possess.
Hatch message
Fly Away Home Egg isn't done bouncing, either, shimmying to a tune only it can hear. This can only last for so long, though, before it loses its balance, wobbles too hard, and — CRACK. A little brown dragon sits in the fragments of his shell, blinking amazedly at the world. Oh.
Sands #1
Endless Storm Brown Hatchling flicks his tail, thoughtful, seems to collect himself from his eventful hatching, before flaring his wings wide in the general direction of the audience. Did you see that?! Tadaa! If he could figure out moving without falling on his face (which he does, here, inelegantly), he would probably take a bow. As it is, he lurches back to his feet, spins a little, and wanders towards the candidates ptooey-ing sand. Don't worry, he's coming!
Sands #2
Endless Storm Brown Hatchling doesn't stop, either. Oh. He hasn't figured out the brakes yet. Watch out! Right through the crowd he goes, twisting and making loud squawking noises as he tries to keep the damage to a minimum. Sorry! Sorry! He didn't mean to rip your robe, there! Moving is just hard, but he can't stop, can he? There's somebody here, somebody…somebody important, he's just got to find them.
Public Impression
Endless Storm Brown
Hatchling has managed not to actually grievously injure anybody — well, one boy is holding his foot and swearing furiously. The dragonet doesn't appear to notice, though, head swinging now, eyes whirring fast. Here, here…HERE! He doesn't quite stop in time, instead bowling a young woman with straight black hair down with him. This doesn't seem to bother the little brown, who trumpets gleefully, butting foreheads with his lifemate.
Impression Message
« SORRY, » Oof. Sorry about that. Like the rug suddenly getting yanked out from beneath your feet, wham! There goes the world, tilting sideways, filling up suddenly with a fizzy sensation like…flying? Falling? Both? And there's Jovianth, in the middle of it, laughing wildly. « Oh, this! This is good, isn't it, Ashwi? » His soft-bright voice hums in delight, warm like the slow evening you're just not getting here, in the middle of all this chaos. A long moment passes, maybe a little dazed, a distant ringing like you've both been struck in the head by something big and metal. This is big, this moment, the biggest either of you ever have or will had and you feel like this new voice, this Jovianth doesn't quite know what to say, a thousand different possibilities tumbling on and on on top of one another. The silence grows weighty after a moment, more solemn, before finally: « …how are you standing when you've only got two legs? » Ah. Nailed it. « Food! Meat. Meat, then we can discuss that. »
Personality
All limbs still intact, Ashwi? Yes? No? Well, there's nothing really for it, is there. Mentally, physically, or otherwise, Jovianth probably isn't going to stop bowling you over. He won't mean to, of course. He's got all the best intentions! You are, after all, his favorite person in the world, so why would he ever want to hurt you.
He's just…so awkward, is the problem, as a hatchling. Limbs! Limbs everywhere! And they won't stop growing, never at the same time, always putting him off-balance. He might well never grow out of his awkwardness, but in those first days, it'll be problematic. Even Zychaelth can't always beat Jovianth for chaos, although Jo's is sometimes unintentional. Like his momma before him, he can't seem to help knocking over entire barrels of oil, all of your classmates no fewer than a dozen times in the first sevenday, and somehow, at least one table in the living caverns. Don't ask him how he got in there. « I WAS LOST, OKAY. » We'll speak of it no further — if only because there's just so much to move on to. So, so much.
The awkwardness isn't only physical, unfortunately. Especially as a hatchling, Jovianth will have a bit of trouble conveying how he's feeling. Emotions aren't his strong suit. He loves you, yes — more than anything in the world, more than he'll ever be able to express — but he's just. Not so good at saying so, in his early life. He's more a too-strong bat of the wing to the shoulder (knocking you halfway across the barracks, as he grows, probably) and warm-gruff mumble of amusement when you do something funny kind of dragon. That goes for his siblings, too, and further down the road, all of the friends that will be drawn to your outgoing, friendly dragon. He's not shy with praise, at least, happy to pile on gleeful appreciation to anybody in his line of sight. « Chauth, that was brilliant! The way you did three flips before you stopped rolling! You really showed that puddle, eh? »
He means it, too. He's not trying to be sarcastic.
Most of the time.
While you are the center of Jovianth's world, he's also a very outgoing young dragon, from an early age. He will draw other dragons to him, drag them along for his schemes, delight in their attention and the way they get so surprised when that keg of oil explodes all over everything. If there are eyes on him, there is a fair chance that Jove's doing something ridiculous, because what good is all that attention if he doesn't use it! There are some who might find this less than thrilling (looking at you, Ysgieuth, and probably Toith, for that matter), but it's hard to deny that he's a charming dragonet. Don't worry. If you didn't notice any of his assets, he'll tell you.
The Doctor: I'm being extremely clever up here and there's no one to stand around looking impressed! What's the point in having you all?
As he ages, your brown will develop some interesting habits. He's insanely curious — he has to know everything, and how is he supposed to learn, if not by doing? With growing mobility will come a revelation for you: Jovianth does not at all know his own limits. He will run until he drops in the middle of the bowl into a half-day-long nap, he'll eat anything some enterprising clutchmate tells him is food, he'll push and prod and ask questions until an older dragon snaps. These are all things that will stick around, but particularly as a Weyrling, you'll have to find ways to deal with them.
As he grows older, your brown will grow at least slightly steadier. Emotional maturity will bring about a dragon fiercely loyal, really smart, and…still very prone to shenanigans. At least it likely won't be much of a surprise, right? Surely, after the tenth time Jovi and Zychaelth somehow manage to dump all of the bedclothes in the entire barracks into the sea, it's not a surprise. He's not much of a fan of hard work, either, unfortunately for you. Maybe you want to advance through the ranks — Wingleader a thing you desire? You'll have a fight on your hands, with Jo. It's not that he doesn't want to see you succeed! He does, furiously, with all of his hearts. It's just that it's not for him, the minutiae of leadership, the dreadful, horrible, tedious day-to-day responsibility of it all. Jovianth doesn't love spending the night sleeping, much less the entire day worrying about the Weyr's rations or improvements to drills.
« What is there to improve? I don't want to do them in the first place, Ashwi! »
"We have to do drills, though!"
« Do we? Because I'm not seeing any signs here that say "Your tail stays right here, Jovianth". Do you see any? No? Good, because do you see that wherry nest? It's huge, positively gargantuan! I wonder how many wherries live in it? »
In time, with enough convincing — or a sufficiently traumatic or worrying reason — your brown might settle into a more workmanlike manner with regards to . He's got the mind for it, anyways, the ability to see how things should go and where they should go and when they should go. He's got enough charisma to command an army if he needs to: they'd follow him without question. Jovianth could talk a fish into walking across a desert, if he really put his mind to it. And when he has to? When you burn for a position with all of your heart, can't live without it? When your Wingleader comes down with a bad case of cracked skull and you see your chance, or even something more drastic? He'll be there. It's the least he can do, right?
Janvier: We still need to give our best to life even if we do not understand the purpose of our existence on earth.
It won't make him happy, though. Drills, sweeps, long talks with Wingleaders about grain or pudding or whatever it is that humans talk about during sevenday-ly wing meetings? Faranth. Better you bludgeon him to death with a skybroom. He'd rather spend nights talking rather than sleeping, discussing huge moral issues that you might not have ever considered, but somehow, he knows about and cares about enough to talk them out. He wants your opinion in this, your feelings, your viewpoint — not that it will necessarily always define his. Jovianth is his own dragon, and can be stubborn in…many, many things. Like the horribleness, tortuousness, of drills, for one. Yeah, no, we weren't kidding about his feelings on those. Unfortunately.
Where Jovianth will excel, where he will shine, is coming up with solutions to problems. Just. Don't expect him to come around to them with any degree of swiftness, or quiet. You — and anybody who happens to be around, if he forgets himself, and he does, sometimes — are privy to the inner cogs of Jovi's genius, and it's. A mess. In there.
The Doctor: Yes. Okay, okay, okay, okay. Dalek fleet. A bit over twelve thousand battle ships all armed to the teeth. Ahaah! But we've got surprise on our side! They'll never expect three people to attack twelve thousand battle ships 'cause we'd be killed instantly, so it would be a very short surprise. Forget surprise.
His wingmates in particular will have to become used to this side of your brown — he isn't one to hide away those thoughts that might be of some use to him, or anybody else. It helps, talking through something! Does it matter that the situation is flying into a gale to rescue shipwrecked sailors, or negotiating a tense trade agreement with Ierne? No. No, it does not, in fact, because either way he doesn't just know the right answer. And if he talks it out, others can pitch in!
« Storm! Storm. Waves, big waves, Elenth. Look at the size of them! Hard to get through waves that size, right? »
« Your point, Jovianth? »
« Don't get tetchy with me, Myrakath, think! How are we going to land, if we can't land? »
« … »
Unfortunately, he doesn't always get along with his peers, but it's not like he doesn't try. He just has his own way of going about it, a way of asking questions that don't really have answers that are easy to come to. They're enlightening, and isn't that wonderful? Or at least something you ought to know. Hrmph.
Age will bring more softness to Jovianth, by far. Not always — there will always be an edge to him, sometimes, in darker moods or just on rough days, even — but by and large, he will grow a little…kinder. Emotions will come easier, wear less on him. He'll express them with words, rather than gestures that leave you concussed or missing a tooth. Further, your dragon will understand kindness better, given some age on his bones. He'll go out of his way to make others' days better, to protect them from even little emotional hurts (ones he wouldn't have even grasped, as a weyrling), to brighten the world. Little old ladies will swoon, old tiffs might well heal over. It might be out of a sense of guilt, of doing a thing he can do rather than something he feels like he can't, like taking a leadership position of his own volition, but well. Does it really matter, in the end, where kindness comes from?
Janvier: Kindness is a source of relief to the soul of the giver, creating a sense of fortitude that is incomprehensible to those who do not know what kindness is all about.
You, Ashwi, will at least never have to wonder about Jovianth's motivations. He'll always tell you. All you have to do is ask — Jo might lie straight to a gold's face if he's of a mind and able to, but never you. Even if the truth is unpleasant or deeply unflattering. He just doesn't have it in him to lie to you, his moral compass. He might still go against your wishes, might still make you angry, but he'll always be frank with you. If he can't with you, who, then, can he?
Certainly not other dragons. Jovianth is…not…an exceptional suitor, in a lot of ways. He's just so awkward. Greens start glowing, and his hatchling jocularity comes right back in full force, only a little more frenzied for the confusion of it all. What is he supposed to do? Lean against this rock? Preen a little, show off? Do a little spin in confused circles when he forgets where he left the green, while he was excitedly telling a story? Well, maybe not that last one, but he can't help it. He'd rather talk with the proddy dragon about the weather than how beautiful or deadly or bloody she looks, because frankly, he's not sure about any of that.
And Faranth help both of you, if he ever somehow manages to catch a gold.
Craig: If you ever need me out of your hair, just give me a shout. [winks]
The Doctor: [winks back, pause] Why would I want that?
Craig: Well, in case you want to bring someone over? Like a girlfriend, or…boyfriend?
The Doctor: Oh! Oh, yes, yes, I will. I will shout, something like… "I was not expecting this!"
To say that he will have no sharding clue what to do with the situation is a gross understatement. Jovianth doesn't do boredom. He doesn't do responsibility, so much. He doesn't particularly enjoy being confined to small spaces, come to think of it. The whole idea of raising a clutch of eggs is nearly too much for him. Some sense of responsibility to you — to your reputation, or honor, or even just your pride — will keep him there, though. Even if he might not necessarily feel anything past warmth towards the dam, or the eggs, he'll still stay, as much as he can possibly manage. Still: there's just not a lot positive to be said about Jovianth's parenting skills, beyond that he won't eat any candidates. No, he'll be too busy trying to get them in and out of trouble. At least that will keep him from going mad, on the sands.
It's always possible, in spite of all this, that Jovi's attention will be captured, some day. A Jovianth caught in the throes of love is a sight: completely smitten, ridiculous. All of his good traits — his kindness, his warmth, his loyalty, cleverness — all of this finds a way to break through the screaming awkwardness and discomfort towards responsibility. If Jo ever really finds any sort of draconic lasting love, he really won't let it go.
Jovianth is a hard dragon to pin down, not least because he always seems to be on the move. He doesn't seem to understand the point of settling, of sitting back for more than a moment to enjoy a moment. He's funny, and warm, and frequently infuriatingly clever, a dragon who will no doubt keep you on your toes throughout both of your lives. Your shared life. He'll push you out of your comfort zone without a thought to keeping you there, safe and comfortable. He'll drag you along with him, whether or not you want to be there, a lot of the time, and he won't often apologize for it. He'll make you laugh so hard that your sides hurt — that your friends' sides hurt, that the Weyrleader's do, too. He'll stretch the boundaries of safety and sanity, and at the end of the day? He'll still be your Jovianth, who loves you dearly, who will never wander so far that he isn't sure where, and how, you are.
Janvier: Home is supposed to be a place of security, the last resort of refuge.
Mindvoice
Shoals in Eternity
Jovianth is a study in contrasts: still, quiet lagoons of murky water and deep thought, vibrant, loud nebulae, flashing colors your mind can't quite comprehend. The smell of earth and ozone, home and somewhere far distant. His mind is never still, even in sleep, not for a second, always thinking, something like gears whirring, spinning, clicking. In time with his thoughts, images tend to flash — if he's thinking of wherries, flocks of them. You, well, you, in some ridiculous outfit you may or may not have worn ever. It's like this with Jovianth, very visual, down to his dreams: so, so vivid, and frequently shared with you in early days.
In spite of the sometimes-frenzied backdrop on which his voice falls, Jovi's actual voice is…slow. Deep, and quiet, surprisingly slow, a lot of the time. He sounds like distant caves, maybe, or like space sounds, distant and powerful. A low bass rumble, such a strange counterpoint to the light and sound and maybe slight cacophony of the rest of his mind.
Physicality
Still contrasting, Jovianth. So graceful: he covers ground in great strides, a predator's stalk even when he's not trying to be intimidating. Elegant in form and thrifty in movement, a lot of the time, this mid-sized brown nonetheless stands out for his very lack of standing out. So many dragons really lean in to the bunny-hop thing, spend all of their time hobbling awkwardly. Not Jove! By Jove, he certainly does not, rather he is either all-serious, all-elegant, or just. Not. At all. Let him get flustered, excited, let him forget himself for a moment, and it's all over. He has an odd habit of spinning in circles, and when it's several dozen feet of dragon? Well, that's a little bit alarming. He somehow rarely manages to get in trouble with it, though, that natural grace coming through even in his less-graceful moments.
Inspiration & Credits
WELCOME, ASHWI. We're so happy to have you! We hope that your Weyrlinghood is amazing, and that you love Jovianth!!
Jovianth is a combination of names — John Smith, Amelia Pond, and Janvier, smushed together until they fit and also ended up Space-y (Jovian being of Jupiter), completely by happy accident. :D We made sure that there are a variety of good nicknames, and workshopped all of the ones we could think of in here for you: Jo, Jovi, Jove, just to start.
As for the dragon himself, he's also a combination of all of the above, minus a few of the MOST destructive elements, to fit in with your dislike for mean or bullying dragons. <3 Jovianth settled on Ashwi as an elide almost immediately, but if you would like to change that, you are absolutely welcome to! Any part of your dragon is yours to change. <3
Name | Jovianth |
Dam | Ilyscaeth |
Sire | Xermiltoth |
Created By | Citayla and L'kan |
Impressee | Ashwi |
Hatched | April 21st, 2018 |
Half Moon Bay Weyr | |
PernWorld MUSH |