Xanadu Weyr

Willow, about herself: Hard to believe such a hot mama-yama came from humble, geek-infested roots.
— "All the Way", Season 6 - Episode 6

She's every stroke an artist's dream. While not every eye sees beauty in shading so soft and subdued, nor the masterwork in her lean lines and subtle curves, the right eye will recognize this muted mamselle for the magnum opus she is. Mist shrouds her brilliance, hushing all her hues into hazy twilight greens. This embrace of nature's breath imparts a softness to her small and slender frame, reinforced by a nuanced patterning of eensy-weensy licks of an unbridled brush. This indistinct layering of complementary colors implausibly imparts a feeling, more essential than the truth of her utterly unassuming hide, that she possesses a vital vivacity. Obliging opacity obscures mettlesome depths, the magic of her minutiae enchanting only the avid observer with a willing heart. Bewitching brume casts the illusion of captured light making the rounded tip of her nose ghostly, a near white tinged with only an echo of the pale sage that was. Color blooms as slow and subtle as any sprouting seed seeking sun, painting her in a graceful gradient that grows to its deepest at the end of her slim tail, dual tips wrapped with haar-hugged emerald. Inconspicuous as each transition of tone is, it's noticeable where guileless eyes break the gradual progression, finespun eyeridges crested with a touch of shadow. If the common eye needs more reason than lackluster color or diminutive size to disregard her, it can be found in the quirky slant of her perky headknobs and dimensions of neck, tail and extremities, all as likely to be gangly-awkward as they are to be willowy and lithe in motion. These dinky details doom her to dismissal as a dragon as meek as she is harmless, at least where popular opinion is concerned. They don't diminish the capability contained by her spare yet sleek torso, flanks and hips, only the faintest curves creating a more varied shape to her than a straight line. Pigments pattering in the natural progression tip into frosted jade at the trailing edge of her delicate wingsails. So unremarkable is the flow of the perpetual transformation of color as it draws to its final, dusky evolution, no more intense than the rest of her, that it could convince the average eye that this extraordinary creature might be simply ordinary. After all, true beauty needs not the painted flourish of praise.

Egg Name and Description

Obviously, This Egg Is a Ninja
Though any sire would be delighted to discover a ninja among his offspring, he might only discover this egg's hidden lethality if he startled it in a strange place. As this is perhaps the least strange place a dragon egg might be found in all of Xanadu, there is no sign it is other than what it appears: a sweet, innocent, egg-shaped pile of CR—AZY FUN~~! Maybe it was a painfully plain looking egg and Leirith took it into her head to DRESS IT UP A LITTLE. It's spot on for her fashion sense, which is to say it looks like somegold upended a trunk or three of haberdashery paraphernalia and shaped it into the vaguely ovoid mold into which all eggs theoretically should fall. Bedecked in the gaudiest fripperies and frills of all sizes, sorts and shades, one could almost certainly find something of every color woven, tucked or stuck in one eye-tenderizing place or another on its shell. There's cream colored lace trying its best to be elegant, feathers trying to be fancy, winking gems that look more like something made by PlasticCraft than what might be found among the MinerCraft's treasures. Ribbons festoon one section while button-like blobs dapple another. There's even a little patch of what might be rosettes and messy embroidery. It might seem that if one could stand to study the overeager-to-please jumble long enough, they might find rhyme or reason to the placement or the artistic vision Leirith was going for here, but in the end, there's really only one thing someone might feel sure of: no one should EVER let Leirith near a glue gun. (Again?)

Hatching Message

Wobble Message
It must be the heat. The heat has finally gotten to all of Leirith's hot glue and Obviously, This Egg Is a Ninja is starting to sag, to droop, to drag. A ruffle stretches, a button pops, a frill unfrills. What in the frilly heck?? Maybe it's just gotten bored of all the sitting around, all the waiting for a plot twist. It's about time for one, right? Another little shift and a small bit of something salmon-colored is starting to slide in an oozy trail down over ribbons of plum… but, you know, gracefully.

Crack Message
~It's getting hot in here~ So take off all your— shell. Yes, the next word is definitely shell. Judge much?? Obviously, This Egg Is a Ninja is just having a little fun~ It's just enjoying the experience as it was obviously meant to be enjoyed! Maybe it only knows that one song. It isn't the one that started all the humming. It's just making do! A little shimmy, a little shake, a super uncomfortable— …can eggs twerk? All evidence points to no, not even at Xanadu. BUT DON'T TRY TO STEAL ITS JOY with any of your stuffy, 'This is a hatching, Ninja, sit still and show off your best assets, catch yourself a lifemate~' nonsense! IT WILL SHOW YOU ITS BEST ASS— …ets. … Oh, look, a few more pearls, or iridescent counterfeits, are gliding away in handy distraction from the utterly abhorrent moneymaker-shaker behavior of this egg that goes suspiciously still, totally unlikely to continue to do anything unexpected or kooky or uncouth. Everything's fine now. See?

Hatch Message
~Just a little bit, uh uh, and a little bit of, uh uh~—oh. Obviously, This Egg Is a Ninja is at it again. Jamming away to its own sick beats, vibrating, pulsing and just— those are the most awkward movements an egg has ever made, probably, but— well, have you seen its parents? Whatever is in this egg can surely blame whatever locomotive deficiencies it's having on heredity, right? That's what parents are for! That, and to disappoint. HERE COMES LEIRITH'S NEXT, BEST DISAPPOINTMENT, because with one more groove and move that might inspire more sympathy than sighs of wonder for how wince-worthy that particular uncoordinated twist and topple was, IT GETS THE JOB DONE, and Dad at least can be proud of that? The hot mess of haberdashery lookalikes crumble, bogging down the grossly be-goo'd hatchling under layered shards of gathers and pleats and torn tatting.

Sands Pose #1
If first impressions matter, Wallflower in Bloom Green Hatchling is not doing well. She loses the battle for becoming vertical, following the unsightly sprawl that ultimately shattered her shell, her wrenching jerk doing little more than hiccuping her belly momentarily off the sands. The soupy mess of shell shard and egg goo should be giving her sticky traction, but the not-viscous-enough gunk hasn't saturated the sand enough to become less of a slick snare and thus the dragonet, who might otherwise be unremarkable, is drawing quite a lot of attention with her awkward antics. Nevertheless, she persists. Slender chest heaving, there's a shove of her limbs that slip in the infernal hair gel massed at her feet, but not to no purpose. She's nudging the shards nearest her paws together, crushing them finer, churning up the sand to fabricate some friction underfoot. Her wings flick, not open, but in a slightly spastic shake that rains shards down with plops into glop, to be broken and added to the muddling mixture that seems to be having the desired effect of adding traction below. It does nothing to help the limbs that want to tangle in the process of getting herself onto her feet, of course, but she's dauntlessly pursuing her priorities. Step 1: Escape. Everything else will have to wait.

Sands Pose #2
Wallflower in Bloom Green Hatchling is trembling with effort by the time she earns her first Achievement Unlocked. Having extricated her lithe-or-gangly frame from where she was entombed and taken a few wobbly steps away, she's already stopping to regroup and breathe like the n00b she is. Maybe she can be forgiven since she's obviously squishy. The way she's sucking air as the sustaining force it is in great gulps attests to the fact that she is not a dragon made for soloing. Those guileless eyes take the moment of relative steadiness to sweep her surroundings: sand, shell shards, very large dragons, tiny things obviously as squishy as she is just look at their robes. Who can say what she's looking for? Maybe she's just taking it all in because there's another moment or two spent just looking before she's giving another step or two a whirl. Well, whirl might have been what she was going for. What she got was wibble-wobble-stumble-and-justbarelynotfall. Her wings fan in a wildly uncoordinated attempt to keep her from kissing sand; combined with an uncomfortable splay of lower limbs and tail, she remains upright, but that seems to be the best her questionable ninja skills can manage at the moment.

Impression Message

Public Message
Wallflower in Bloom Green Hatchling may not especially love the idea of trying to move again, but she can't stay like this. For one thing, she can probably calculate the time to muscle exhaustion and collapse. Having already been there, done that and gotten the figurative tee shirt, there's no need to repeat; she's a quick study and her Resolve Face is ready to roll. She's watching the sand this time, vigilant for unexpected environmental hazards, but once more it's her own feet miring her progress. At least this time, it's just a little grunt-worthy thump onto the sands, leaving her seated, and maybe she's content to stay that way. For a moment, her tail curls up to be clasped by fidgeting paws, hugged to her chest, while she contemplates the conundrum. Physics. So complicated! But she's got this. Her tail goes slipping away. Before she moves though, she startles for no apparent cause. Her body twists, eyes landing on a diminutive figure with golden blond hair and blue-grey eyes as though unexpectedly called. Her head tilts, innocently inquisitive, the look echoed by a small sound of confusion. It would be easy to miss if someone weren't watching, the way revelation rocks through her moments later, stunning her for a breath, then two. The scramble to her feet is rapid and inelegant, but she will bend the world to her will if that's what it takes to reach her lifemate: nothing will keep them apart now.

Private Message
Mirieth. The name is a tidbit of tittle-tattle snatched from the air. Maybe one of the spectating, (in)famously loud dragons of Xanadu dropped it from on high. The sound of it is not so simple as something from a human voice, nebulously rich with dimensions a sound alone can't begin to impart. Even so, it's there and gone again, but not dismissed, not with the way your heart might have leapt for your throat at just the smallest brush of it against your thoughts. It might leave you dizzy (or dizzier), might have your eyes darting to try to put a face with the name. Was it one of the newest impressions? Did you catch the last in your distraction? What color was it and who was its rider? Much as your mind might like to drop it and focus back on the continued chaos still completely present around you just as it was before you caught that clip of conversation (if that's even what it was), there's a compelling sense that if you swim with the school, follow the herd, do as the other candidates are doing around you, waiting, watching, that something infinitely precious will slip through your grasp forever. What was the name? Are you forgetting it already? Mirieth. Perhaps that was your thought, answering the question, digging in with a soul-deep certainty that you need her, need to find her, or maybe it was just a bit of magic manifested to bring two hearts together. The name must have been loud enough to cut through the distracting din occupying the intervening space between you. There's a startled shift from the mist-muted green where she's unintentionally sat on the sands, twisting toward you, head cocked at an angle of inquiry. A small sound of confusion comes with a soft-spoken mezzo asking, « Why? » There's a touch of genuine bewilderment to the word, as if Mirieth can't imagine why someone as plainly perfect as you would even know her name. « I— I mean, hi. » Nervous stammer yields to a more naturally perky positivity on the last word, hope budding. And yet, she worries she's misunderstood. « Uh, did you want me to move? » Is that why you're talking to her? Perhaps she's just awkwardly placed, somehow accidentally standing between you and your future. A glance away from you to check seems to reassure her that she really is the one the awesome Avi is looking at and not through. « Oh, » is a revelation, at once so ruthless and yet so painfully gentle as it shatters the fragility of this potential, breaking open two tender hearts to flush out all doubt, all apprehension and all fear about just what they are doing here. The darkness is gone. The sands are gone. A flicker of candle flame glows, warm, then expands in a rush, filling everything with incandescent light and transcendent euphoria, utterly unique, just like you are, just like she is. « Oh! » She understands now. Don't you? « Avi, » infused in the sound of your name in her mind is limitless love and absolute acceptance. « I found you! » Or you found her, or you found each other. The important thing is you'll never be apart again. As your sight clears, the twilight-touched green is on her feet, tenaciously trying to convince limbs to coordinate enough to get to you. You'll help her, right? And she'll help you, because that's what lifemates do.

Personality

Willow, softly: I wanna be Willow.
Giles: You are. In the end, we all are who we are … no matter how much we may appear to have changed.
— "Lessons", Season 7 - Episode 1

"Sugar and spice and all things nice," barely begins to sum up your Mirieth; pair it with, "Spine of steel and all things real," and you'll be getting somewhere! Making waves is not (usually) her goal, but unapologetically sharing her smarts, good sense, gumption and grit sometimes has that effect. « I'm just putting the "grr" in girl! » She's a green redefining femininity to include not only kindness, gentility, loyalty, compassion and calm, but also courage, cleverness, creativity and capability.

Mirieth could tell you in a jiff just who wrote, "To thine own self be true," but the identity of the thankfully still dead author doesn't matter, what's important here is that it's something Mirieth gets behind one hundred and ten percent! « Darn tootin'! » She forges her own path because being herself is the only way she knows how to be. If positivity and problem-solving were readily recognized as superpowers, maybe more people would see what you do: her unique constellation of attributes is what makes your Mirieth a hidden hero, one of the unconventional marvels of dragonkind. And you know what, Avi? Mirieth knows the same about you. « Only, humankind. Because. You know. You're all human-y and stuff. » And she loves you for it. For every tiddly bit of it.

Willow: Even I was bored. And I'm a science nerd.
Buffy: Don't say that.
Willow: I'm not ashamed. It's the computer age. Nerds are in. They're still in, right?
— "Prophecy Girl", Season 1 - Episode 12

From the moment Mirieth finds you, Avi, you're going to be learning not only in your classes as a weyrling but in an independent study of Advanced Placement: Mirieth. You are her very best friend, the one who needs to know the colorful secrets of her soul, and the knowledge of them will be delivered to you at an alarming accelerated rate. Why? Because within your head, you now have a 24/7 tutor, study-buddy, and all-around determined dragon heck-bent on seeing you both cross the graduation finish line with— well, if not flying colors, then at least passable results. « I will get us through this weyrlinghood if I sweat ichor! … Only metaphor ichor, but still. »

If you work together, maybe you can even earn a gold star! « Do they give gold stars? I'll ask Teimyrth. He's so nice! Maybe if we show him some color-coded graphs about the efficacy of gold over silver, and star over heart, he'll have no choice but to convince Ila'den. » Not that she couldn't pitch her idea to Ila'den directly, because she could. Of course, she could. Mirieth can talk to whoever she wants, whenever she wants! She just, you know, doesn't always want to… especially when a particular someone may be the teensiest bit scary, but in that, you know, complimentary way.

But everyone has some flaws, right? Even you two. The good news (which she'll invariably try to lead with) is that you're in this together! When you flail, you'll flail together; sink or swim, you're bailing out the same boat… if only either of you had a little more arm strength for the task. Physically, Mirieth is kind of a wimp. She's not much help in getting you in shape, but she'll be right there, panting along with you, laughing, crying, commiserating on failures or celebrating your successes with more sugar than a body is made to handle — even if she'll have to enjoy the mochas vicariously through you!

Mirieth's lack of physical coordination is only one of the problems you will face come hunting time. Don't be surprised if, initially, it's all big eyes and, « You want me to what? But it's so cute! » Her horror is slightly disproportionate for a carnivore literally hardwired to kill and consume (cute) prey animals, but she is a practical kind of dragon, so reluctant acquiescence to the uncomfortable necessity can be achieved with gentle finesse. With that being said, it's important to note that she'll never enjoy it… not outside of flights, anyway, but that's a Future Avi and Future Mirieth problem, right? For now, the hard part will be appealing to her logic and convincing her to RUIN SOME POOR HERDBEAST'S DAY. PERMANENTLY.

Convincing an apex predator to be an apex predator is not the first obstacle you'll encounter, though. The incredible speed of her sharp mind is going to be a challenge, the most apparent manifestations of which are her nervy nature, tendency to overthink or think sideways, and to only partially filter what comes out of her brilliant brain via her mindvoice. Babble and bouts of didIsaythataloud-itis, a socially crippling disease, happen for too many reasons. Maybe Mirieth missed the point because her lens is capturing another angle. Maybe in an effort to be helpful, she unintentionally spotted the doom in Satoth's next impulsive plan. Maybe she's just feeling the pressure when Kovagath is seeking her help in solving a puzzle that's stumping even him. Even when it's Navenath tripping the wrong boundary and receiving a shockingly scathing, spitfire spew, Mirieth seems to find herself at the crossroads of "whoopsie" and "sorry" far too often.

Fortunately, experience is a good teacher, helping your adorably awkward dragonet fine-tune her hair-trigger to something far less touchy. Sure, it starts with one-eyed giants (who might or might not eat naughty dragonets, Avi!), but in time, it will take truly scary things to set her on that nervy-babbly precipice, like her friends depending on her to be the power that stands between the world and apocalypse. No biggie~ THANKFULLY, in weyrlinghood (or ever, we hope), you're unlikely to encounter anything at the-world-is-ending threshold if Dovirauth's pranks don't get too crazy, Khoszeth doesn't accidentally piss off the wrong meatheaded cousin, and Mirieth doesn't prove to be her own greatest enemy.

Cautionary tales don't have the desired impact on Mirieth. Bad things have happened before, but that’s probably because those people weren’t nearly as awesomesauce as the pair of you, duh. It’ll be fiiine. While her assertiveness and determination are great assets, imparting a strength of resolve, heart, and spirit that lets her rise to every occasion no matter how underprepared she might feel, there is always a cost (and we don't just mean the one you'll have to pay because she expects you to be just as game for anything coming your way, too).

Confidence in her abilities and a strong desire to do good, to help, is a wonderful thing, except when it becomes much, when altruism plays second fiddle to a deep need to prove to herself that she can meet even audacious goals. Sometimes, doing things on her own time-table because she's sure she can make it happen works out— after all, she is an advanced kind of dragon, not once babyish (even if she overlooks the fact that that's a far cry from adult in her reasoning). Other times, it means attempting difficult skills "scary soon," with less than desirable and occasionally destructive results. Try not to burn the barracks down; it still has that "new barracks" smell from the last time.

Hopefully, some of the ready forgiveness Mirieth offers the world will come back to her after unfortunate events. The finespun steel in her spine is at the heart of her ability to be so forgiving, to be kind and compassionate in a world that is not all rainbows and sunshine. Where some interpret weakness in emotions that run impossibly deep, Mirieth's lend her strength through empathy. She makes gifts of her kindness and empathy, gifts that matter, to Avi and anyone else that needs them, whenever they're needed: second chances, wake-up calls, pep talks, determined mental shoves with candor and common sense and emphatic cheering on. « Get on with it! I need my vicarious smoochies! » You can thank her mother for passing on a particular adoration of pompoming the flights of any green or gold making with the glowing.

You might not be able to blame Leirith for Mirieth's tendency to involve herself in your love life, though; that's all her own love for you combined with her enjoyment of a good gab whenever you want it, whether it's about yourself or your partner or anything else that happens to come up. What she does with that knowledge, well… While it might give you warm fuzzies to hear her being so protective, overhearing her tell the person courting your affections, « …and remember: if you hurt Avi, I will beat you to death with a shovel, » may also prompt other strong feelings for you. It doesn't matter that, theoretically, she can't hold one, or that she has far more effective bludgeoning or slashing weapons at her disposal; violence in the traditional sense isn't really her thing. Still, she is supportive of you, and has your best interests at heart. That's what really matters, right?

The love and support that reciprocates and builds between the two of you are the key ingredients in the magic that has Mirieth blooming beautifully from her wallflower beginnings, transforming her from that hatchling whose capability and mettle were poorly concealed by the shy girl act that no one important to her ever believed into the vivacious dragon she will become. While you are the most important to making this magic of maturity manifest, you're not the only one with a role to play. With her big heart, it's probable that Mirieth has adopted a family, one who may or may not be blood-related (hffffhfhff, who are we kidding; Mirieth is daughter to Leirith, who has a dadpa, and Xermi, who is a dadpa - though thankfully not to Mirieth, who might be keeping track). Which is to say, given the convoluted genealogy of draconic bloodlines and their rampant inbreeding, the close-knit circle of her nearest and dearest is just as likely to include siblings (or sister-cousins, or cousin-uncles) as older mentors-turned-friends (albeit avuncular or materteral ones).

Just as her extreme loyalty to you and her crew is predictably unchanged by the advent of adulthood, many of Mirieth's core aspects will remain steadfast and constant while others will simply mellow with age. Mirieth is still passionately fond of learning, though her interests grow broader and less restrained by convention as she gets all the basic subjects (and the intermediate, and the advanced) tucked away into your mind. You won't begrudge her some external storage, will you? She knew she could count on you. Likewise, her passion for your art is constant; just as she has always ADORED your art for the way it bypasses her logical brain and speaks directly to her heart, she always will, even if she may have as many opinions about your subject or the lighting or the style as you do. Art is simply one more subject she'll make herself expert in to share your passion.

Mirieth will still champion self-expression, yours, hers, or anyone else's. She may not always appreciate her own eccentricities and will understand if you struggle with yours, but it's one thing to choose to be reserved because that's just how you're feeling (as she does, some days), and something else if you're dulling yourself down because you're worried about ridicule or your reception. Not only will she still give you the mental shake to help you dismiss all that (valid) nonsense, but she'll happily tell you or whoever that anyone who doesn't see how spectacular you are can take a short walk off a high ledge. Me-ow~ « Well, okay, maybe not a very high ledge, but, you know, one that would bruise their buns for a seven or two. It's the least they would deserve for doubting you. »

While she's always had the bite to back up her bark, she's no longer the vexingly staid Reliable Dog Geyser Person Dragon she was sometimes in youth. Mirieth is powerful in the full bloom of her maturity, a power that continues to grow past whatever marker means having a responsible adult life. Though not exactly irresponsible (usually), as her resourcefulness and intelligence grow to a point where they seem like magic, given the ease in which she employs them, there's a new impulsivity and ruthlessness about weighing cost versus benefit when approaching problems. If Mirieth can't figure out what in the frilly heck is going on when a new problem presents, maybe no one can!

With a moral compass that only gets dizzy when faced with stakes of the kiss-your-bum-bye-bye variety, where "good" and "bad" are abandoned in favor of "the greater good," or the greater feel good, her judgment can usually be trusted. Not immune to temptation, there are times you may need to keep a close watch on her lest she be lured into taking an action whose consequences will cause her Resolve Face to waiver in the face of temporary defeat, painful experience, or flubs more serious than just getting cranky with her friends for no reason. While storms of temper that take no prisoners are fewer and farther between thanks to her leveled up emotional intelligence, her always deep feelings do still sometimes get the better of her and the fallout is never pretty.

Willow: I mean, you've been fighting evil here for three years, and I've helped some, and now we're supposed to decide what we want to do with our lives. And I just realized that that's what I want to do. Fight evil, help people. I mean, I think it's worth doing. And I don't think you do it because you have to. It's a good fight, Buffy, and I want in.
— "Choices", Season 3 - Episode 19

Yet the show must go on, and with adulthood comes the discussion of your future lives together. If a life serving in Asteroid Wing and doing nothing but painting is what you want, she will support you, whole-heartedly, but there are other options. Mirieth will seek out other dragons doing good, fighting the good fight. This could mean ending up in a heroics-friendly Wing or just patrolling for possibilities in your "off" hours. Sure, there isn't the evil of Thread to face anymore, but there are plenty of people in the wide, wide world who could benefit from a little altruistic visit from a canny, capable dragon and her slightly arm-twisted rider, right? If she needs to lead the way, then she'll lead; if it's better she plays sidekick, she can do that just as capably. Maybe things won't always work out and maybe sometimes good intentions will find bad ends, but it doesn't mean you should give up trying; Mirieth has always sought the good in a weary world, kindling your inner flame when it gutters or goes out, and that is no less true now as she finds her own way to contribute with every asset she has at her disposal.

Mirieth is a powerhouse that eats danger for breakfast! … but only when there isn't something else, anything else. No matter how much gumption and grit she can bring to bear, your sweet, sometimes soft-spoken Mirieth would much rather spend time enjoying life. She'd prefer the most exciting things be good things, like parades and cotton candy, like being together, trying new things, snuggling, talking every night before bed and being told a story or two about nice things like a kitten finding a home. If the day comes where the world needs Mirieth because she's the one who has the best shot at getting the big bad on the ropes, with you at her side, she'll keep her jelly belly at bay and do what she always does: her best. After all, any risk to the world is a risk to her world, Avi, because her world is, and always will be, the spectacular you.

Mindvoice: Magical Moxie

Willow: How come you didn't tell me I look like a crazy birthday cake in this shirt?
Buffy: I thought that was the point.
— "Wild at Heart", Season 4 - Episode 6

Clothes make the girl, they say, but sadly lacking the ability to wear clothes, Mirieth's canvas for self-expression is her many-faceted and magnificent mind. This is, after all, where she can cultivate color, texture, and combination as easily as she might by stepping into her closet to choose an outfit. Unlike an ensemble, though, Mirieth doesn't have to stop to change if her mood has moved on; as her mood changes, so will the backdrop of her mindscape. Generally, the bold colors convey her positive vibes, sometimes appliqued with her favorite images, such as flowers, rainbows, or even embroidered phrases that might be pretentious coming from anyone but her.

Textures play their part, frequently fuzzy, soft or just comfortable, but as flexible as all else if it doesn't suit her particular mood. With darker moods come darker colors; black moods are, well, black, but it's more than just color, somehow infecting everything, seeming to leak into her very veins with stark saturation. At the opposite end of the spectrum, in moments of transcendent joy, her mind is incandescent, bleaching with a brightness that is less the color white than the intense feeling of an unparalleled lightness of being.

Despite Mirieth's challenges with concise or clear verbal expression, words are her primary medium for communication, thoughts delivered in an expressive if often deceptively soft mezzo. To underscore the words or overwhelm them, she can summon just about anything she desires (including chalkboards, graphs, and the most elaborately color-coded notes you've ever seen), but most often, along with a faint taste of strawberries, there will be the regular or rapid click of computer keys, the tingle of something that can only be called magic, and accents of a smoky incense, the glitter of a crystal, the lick of candle flame or things more elemental.

Tara: This is the room where you don't have to be brave. And I still love you.
— "After Life", Season 6 - Episode 3

Within her mindscape, there is a special place, a retreat intended for just the two of you. The where or the what of it doesn't matter, transmogrifying with the needs of the moment. Sometimes, it's as simple as a pair of sleeping bags inside a blanket fort of your own devising, sometimes a picnic blanket under a cerulean sky. Other times, it's the most beautiful library complete with state-of-the-art computers, or a personal sandbox that lets her code up the most amazing fantasy realms to explore, but among her favorites is a room rich with herbal smells and strange things lining the shelves and, of course, the artist studio of your literal dreams.

The where and what matter less than the feeling infused into every illusory line: s a f e t y. Here, you can feel what you feel, be who you are, and be loved, no matter what. It's yours to share in good times and in bad, a place no nightmares can reach without your invitation; maybe you do it to confront them, to vanquish them, or to learn to sit with the hard feelings they bring so letting them go becomes easier in your day-to-day. Whatever the reason, you're always in control here, always able to banish them with a word. She's always here with you, holding the sacred space in safety and love.

Physicality

Xander: I'm exhausted just looking at those two. All this splashing and jumping and running… shouldn't relaxing involve less exertion?
Anya: Absolutely. Exertion can lead to sweatiness.
Tara: Which can cause the pain and heartbreak of stinkiness. Better to just stay put.
Willow: I think we've just put our finger on why we're the sidekicks.
— "Buffy vs. Dracula", Season 5 - Episode 1

In an unsurprising word? Awkward. Through your memory, the word Mirieth will choose to describe her early days is, « Spaz. » While that might be a little harsh, it's honest. Even as an adult, the issue (improved though it becomes) is less physical coordination than it is a propensity to overthink even that, sometimes especially that. Fidgets are often the escape of nervous energy and the truncation of movements she decides too late that she's not going to make. If it makes her seem far more flappy, or flappable, than she really is, then that's another misleading thing about the outward impression she gives.

Knowing just where she ought to be putting every paw or wing or tail (especially tail) is just not as easy as it looks. After all, a tail brushing someone's side could mean something, and if she tilts her head one way, does it come across as curious or judgy? It isn't that Mirieth's really all that concerned about how she'll be taken (except for, you know, meaning something when she means nothing), but rather that even the etiquette books you'll read for her make it sound so easy to know just what to do in any given situation, and she just does not have that kind of intuitive intelligence. For her, movement takes a lot of hypothesizing, testing, observing, and re-tooling to try it all over again to figure the physical "do"s and "don't"s of routine situations. Unexpected ones? Forget it! She's likely to trip over her own paws, and she has four of them to worry about! Twice as troublesome as your two.

When push comes to shove, the bottom line is that Mirieth can do it. While it's likely she will only ever be graceful when proddiness hits and she takes to the skies to play her rough and tumble games, she can and will prove herself capable… after enough practice. As with all things, she'll want to do the research to stand her best shot at it all. She'll understand probably better than any of her classmates just how the air currents above Xanadu impact their flight patterns, and how to theoretically use them to maintain formations or do the least work for the most loft, but the proof is in the pudding that book knowledge is no substitute for wings-out experience as she struggles to put these lessons into practice. Eventually, though, as long as she doesn't get too distracted using her big brain to try to riddle out all the helpful (or extraneous) information that could refine the experience, she'll be just fine.

While Mirieth is probably happiest sedentary, doing some mental heavy lifting, she also enjoys casual movement. Want to walk on the beach? Great! Want to go for a glide over the forests? Stellar! Want her to go pell-mell gasping for her life (dramatic much?) away from that wildcat that wanted to hunt her more than she wanted to hunt it? No, thank you! In an emergency, where reflexes should take over, they just don't. It's when she struggles and scrambles most, but even then she can learn… if you want to have enough emergencies for her to do so~

Flights

Vampire Willow: Play now?
— "The Wish", Season 3 - Episode 9

To say that your kind, sweet, thoughtful, loving Mirieth becomes possessed when proddiness hits is not an overstatement. It happens fast enough that you might get whiplash from the doubletake. One moment, she's the Mirieth of the hazy hide that you know and adore, and in the next, her glow has literally transformed her. It's not actually that she changes color, but rather that the dark tones within the cleverly overlapping complementary colors patterning her hide, all but drowned by the lighter ones in all manners of normal light, are spotlighted by a glow that comes with the first moments of proddiness and remains until the last game is played out. The shift from the light palette gradient to dark might not happen as rapidly as a blink, but it’s easy to miss all the same if you don't catch her at just the right moment or don't recognize the mental cues.

The effect is shocking for many, and not just because she's suddenly radically (but not unrecognizably) darker than she normally is. It's her attitude that primarily evokes strong emotional responses or other entertaining (to her) reactions. With a disturbing lack of boundaries, though a healthy instinct for self-preservation, she's Wicked (with a capital "W"). For a dragon often more reserved in her physical expressions than some others, especially among strangers, the fact that she's following whatever whim strikes her fancy to go rubbing her glowy dark green self all up on whoever she pleases is head-spinning (not literally, but it might feel like a near thing).

Vampire Willow: I love this part.
— "The Wish", Season 3 - Episode 9

Beastly is the right word for her approach to the flight itself. She loves blooding. She hates that you won't let her do what she pleases, whether that's to gnash into tender flesh or not, but what does it really matter if a green has a short flight? It might not matter enough to match wills with her in the moment, but you'll need to fight the good fight to keep her from embracing instinct for the ecstasy of flight and freedom over the allure of capture at the end of the sadistically playful romp in the night sky. She will only ever rise at night or under thick cloud cover, and while she will dare the day in the time leading up to her flight, she prefers to keep to the shadows when she can, a little more irritable if she has to let other natural light touch that gleaming hide of hers.

But it's not the Mirieth who takes such delight in a violently passionate flight and a sinfully savage screwing who will have to deal with the aftermath. That's left to workaday Mirieth, your sweet, familiar lifemate. She might be horrified, shocked, or even inclined to think herself evil and skanky after playing Mistress of Pain all night! She might be a little bit of a wreck, at least initially; it will be up to you and maybe her partner (if she can bear to face him) to help her sort out whatever complicated feelings she has about the whole experience. She might find a special male who delights her devilish demeanor in all the right ways and make of him a favorite, but it's even odds that she'll capriciously choose to break in a new mate every flight or do a little of both just to keep everyone on their toes.

Inspiration

WELCOME TO WEYRLINGHOOD!! Welp. What can we say, Avi, except that you asked for it~ POSSIBLY NOT EXACTLY THIS, but we sincerely hope that your Mirieth comes close to what you were hoping for in a green based on the hidden hero, Willow, from Buffy the Vampire Slayer, with a dash of Codex from the Guild mixed in. In her desc, we added a touch of the characteristic styles of Romanticism art that you said you enjoyed.

Fall 2020's clutch theme was Fantasy Factions. The Austen Aficionados are a small faction of the greater whole of Austen fans, according to Shannon Hale's 2007 fiction novel, Austenland, a work made into a film of the same name in 2013. These aficionados are the sort to pay big bucks for an immersive Austen experience such as the one undertaken by the protagonist and others within the work. The name, "Obviously, This Egg Is A Ninja," comes from this movie clip, while its mindvoice name, The Immersive Opiate, came from the book quote: "… fantasy is not practice for what is real—fantasy is the opiate of women."

Egg Poses Soundtrack: Austenland (Nelly - Hot In Herre)
"Mi irie,'' meaning "everything is alright and fine," is a common answer in Jamaican slang to the question, "How are you feeling?" It has also become a feminine name meaning "positive and powerful." These meanings encompass much that Willow is, especially given how often she said everything (or she) was fine, or would be. Since Mirieth rolls off our tongues as either MEER-ee-ihth or MY-ree-ihth, with a possible nickname of Miri (MEER-ee), it became the magic fit for this dragon.

All joking, pompoms, and glitter bombs aside (don't look now~), we are so thrilled to have you continuing your story with a whole new set of complications and can't wait to see what happens next! As in all things from name pronunciation to any aspect of this dragon, large or small, we have nothing but pompoms for you making her your own and altering anything that could suit you or your story better.

<3 <3 <3 F'yr (who wrote things, like the egg, and then, as it happens, also the dragon) and his wonderful polishers, R'hyn and Risali

Credits