A lazy heat hangs heavy and humid over a lush jungle, practically bursting at the canopy with an overflow of flora. Creeping vines of holly and hunter crawl up sinewy legs, tendrils of rich indicolite wrap thin, spindly limbs before fading into a main, rich vein of malachite. Swirling and reaching out with a pale, luminous grasp, headknobs are gripped and bloom with a bright avocado, fruit plentiful along the hanging vines. Along the spine, celadon brindles and dapples in a pale, frothy sort of respite from the dark hues of the jungle. Up and across the wings, a myriad of greens come together in a swirling mess of rainforest — but breaking the dark colors are small splotches, few and far between, of the same celadon that dapples along the spine.
Personality:
In one word simply, Mevalonath is a spitfire. She has very frequent, and often quite violent, mood swings. To put it in perspective, think of an articulate, persistent — and large — toddler. She /won't/ give up when she wants something, be it an extra wherry, some shiny bauble, or a male she's set her sights on. When you, Rhelia, are incapable of giving Mevalonath what she wants, she often resorts to subtle manipulation, preying on the intense bond between the two of you — almost, but not quite, a guilt trip.
Against you, she will never hold a grudge. But against anyone else, Mevalonath will not hesitate to become petty. « Gusith! Do you /see/ how dirty my hide is? Rhelia /just/ washed me! That clumsy Lerrisenth. » As if trying to instigate a fight, Mevalonath will pull out all the stops when it comes to her personal satisfaction. When it comes to disagreements with her rider, Mevalonath will never utter a hasty or harsh word. If Mevalonath cannot get her way with you, a long period of silence will, more often than not, ensue.
Mevalonath is, to a serious fault, a perfectionist. She craves efficiency, and always seems to have /something/ to say on how to improve Bennueth's hunting, or Piehth's flying. « See, if you beat your wings, then run and use that hill as a jump-off, you'll find it much easier to take off, Piehth! » If, on the off chance, someone does not heed her advice, Mevalonath will become quiet, but will focus all her attention on whoever has ignored her advice. She doesn't have a problem sitting and glaring, often for quite some time, until the other party budges and gives in.
When that time comes, her hide glowing brightly, indicative of proddiness, a complete flip-flop will surprise the entire Weyr. Mevalonath will be as sugary-sweet as the most fresh and delicious bubbly pie, pulled piping hot from the ovens. She won't flirt, at least not outright. « See how muscled and /strooong/ Kurouth looks? Oh, but I could /never/ tell him that! » Even though Kurouth is the same stringy, dimglow, wherry of a brown who snatched the /fattest/ herdbeast right from under her muzzle just two days previous.
Your Mevalonath is a perfectionist, a control-freak, a spitfire — she has frequent mood swings, and you will never be able to tell if she will wake up in a good or bad mood. But, regardless, Mevalonath absolutely /loves/ you, Rhelia. She would never do anything to intentionally hurt you, though her methods may be brash and uncouth.
Egg: Neon Night Lights Egg
Slightly set apart from the other eggs, this one has it's own cozy burrow to rest in; the elongated oblong shape nestled — actually, halfway buried underneath the hot sands. Most of the bottom of the egg is hidden, as well as the underside, but what can be seen by any onlookers is quite the shocker. Faintly, as if looking through a heavy fog, the steelwork frame of what seems to be a bridge can just barely be made out. Pock marking the framework, and peeking through the mist, are hundreds of twinkling lights; greens, yellows, blues, and reds are all reflected off the waters swirling beneath the bridge. Encroaching upon the outer edges of the egg are rocky outcroppings, the piles of rocks covered in a soft-to-the-touch, deep emerald moss.
Mind: Hazy and Sultry Tropical Fog
Mevalonath relies heavily on strong emotions to convey just what she thinks and feels. She is brash and forceful, often *bursting!* into your mind with an abrupt spark of warm, bright colors — anything tropical she seems to favor heavily. Pinks, oranges, yellows, and greens predominately emphasize her thoughts, as well as addictive and alluring scents from the jungle. Her presence, to some, can be overwhelming — what with all the colors, scents, and strong emotions, but she does tone it down, albeit if only slightly, for her rider.
Impression Message:
It's a delicate presence, at first. Just the barest hints of hibiscus among other tropical flora, reaching out with a gentle and tender caress. Tendrils creep forth, heavier scents riding on the tips. Fragrant fruit arrives swiftly, bananas, oranges — all accompanied with an explosion of hot pink and yellow. Birds resting in the highest reaches of the canopy crow and caw, their melody matching up with the cacophonous screeches of howler monkeys. With a sudden *puuush!*, a force bursts into your mind on a wave of swirling heat. « Rhelia, » a voice follows this new presence, purring seductively with a sugary-sweet allure. « Rhelia! » the voice *EXPLODES!* with a clap of thunder, the musky scent of dusk rushing over you. « You can't /possibly/ begin to imagine how hungry your poor, poor Mevalonath is. » The voice pauses, then erupts back with another purr, low enough to almost be considered a growl. Forcefully and firmly, you can feel the presence secure a hold on your mind. « Oh, I can just feel it, » she says cryptically, pausing once more before uttering such a desperate creel. « But you /must/ feed me. That's imperative. »
Credits:
First of all — welcome to Western, Rhelia, and congratulations on Impression! The egg theme this cycle was Good Guys v. Bad Guys — and your Mevalonath just so happens to be a Bad Guy. Based off of several people, but mainly off of Manuel Noriega and Pablo Escobar. Heavily involved in drug trafficking, racketeering, and all sorts of nasty things, both men were strong, determined, and /not/ willing to let anything get in the way of what they wanted. Mevalonath's egg is based off of a picture of a bridge in Panama City, where Manuel Noriega was born. Her name comes from mevalonate, a product from the Krebs cycle, just as you requested. Mevalonath's physical description is taken from a rainforest, just the sort of tropical climate found in Central America. Mevalonath was entirely written by yours truly, M'roc, your new Weyrlingmaster! Enjoy!