Dangerous to Know Blue Qilaeth


Drawn and colored by Ava

Balanced on the razor's edge between terrifyingly solid and sublime, empyreal and interminable, this behemoth is alarming to some deep-set instinct. Something about the careful normality of him, this simple, well-balanced — if absolutely massive — blue seems off. A shadow at the edge of your vision that might turn into a monster, if you only move your head just right. The abyssal depths of nothingness swallow wide-set nostrils, barely giving way to fathomless indigo by sharply sculpted eye ridges, and cheeks set beneath flinty faceted eyes. Deepest navy fades over his neck, takes over the bulk of the blue's massive body in a storm of barely-varying midnight. Faint tendrils of celeste start breaking the monotony along the sturdy upper line of his powerful neck; trailing in soft cirrus wisps to brighten the uneven line of neckridges. Teal and azure pepper down robust shoulders and a balanced back, bursting into fiery blues across long, long wingsails. Cyan, ultramarine, indigo: a dozen, two dozen, a million shades of incandescent blue flare in a glorious cloud along both aspects of broad sails, roiling in a thunderous cascade of color. The brilliance doesn't last for long: by powerful haunches it's back to inky navy, leaving the void to swallow long tail and toes, ending as he began.

Egg Name and Description

Unpredictable Winds Egg
This egg is a study in dichotomy, a contradiction divided in two halves with colors that bleed together like twin sunsets on different horizons. The right is an ombre of sea-dark blues and vibrant purples, airbrushed and layered, freckled with reflective gold. The left is painted in pink and orange, blended together by a fine brush, spattered with a thousand white points of what might be starlight when the lighting hits it just right. Brittle cracks wrap this rotund shell in fragile filigree, giving the impression that something about this egg is broken and trying desperately to keep itself together.

Hatching Message

Unpredictable Winds Egg is completely still. What do you mean, it moved behind its neighbor? It's right where it's always been, still, silent. Immovable, even, unbothered by the hectic nonsense going on all around it. Can an egg exude a sense of focus? It can. It does, even, very intently set on being a pillar of stone.

Unpredictable Winds Egg goes BANG, but does anything happen? No. What even made that awful noise- like metal rending, almost, creaking and groaning until a final terrible collapse. Nothing to see here. Don't bother looking too closely — nothing to see here, folks. Its surface is as smooth as ever, nary a hairline fracture to be seen, and it certainly isn't moving.

Unpredictable Winds Egg has, in point of fact, been doing something, or so it would seem, because there stands a dragonet in its ruins. How'd he get there? Faranth knows. Tiny shards surround his feet. Massive wings drape down into the sands, awkward for the barest moment before they're folded primly to his side. You saw nothing. If you did, you better not mention it, say the red-whirring eyes that survey the sweating masses with cool impassivity. Well. What's this, then. You're all here to see him? A dubious glance towards the omnipresent shadow of his parents confirms — yes, these are, in fact, here for him. They couldn't be less…disgusting, though?

Impression Message

« Poor little Andy. Always last to be chosen, if indeed you're chosen at all, in every permutation of the universe. » The world fades to white, but there's nothing there to comfort, nothing but cool emptiness, a vast plane of white in every direction. « You think the reason must be you, don't you? And you're right. » The only sound in the emptiness is a soft voice, very sympathetic — too sympathetic to be sincere, tipping over into sarcasm just ever so gently. Whoever this is, he's not here to hold your hand, not here to reassure you that the sands aren't hot or that there wasn't a reason he waited so long to appear before you. There he is, actually: your vision clears, and before you is not your beautiful green that was never to be, but a mirage in blues, celestial fire just showing beneath the grit on his wings as he stares at you with slow-whirring red eyes. « What, do you need me to spell it out for you, Andy? Andy…well, it will just have to do, won't it. » Sigh. This is, clearly, your fault, but it can't be helped. The voice lowers, and for just a flash the world narrows back to the two of you, to you and Qilaeth, so very terribly not your dream, and yet. Here he stands. « Good things come to those who wait. You can call me Qilaeth, your very own. » There's smug pride there, but somewhere beneath, something like hastily-buried affection — quickly overtaken by a most unbecoming sensation somewhere in the pit of your stomach. « Now, explain to me what that was. »


Welcome to the life of a dragonrider, Andy! To your left you'll find the rainbows and dandelions, and to the right, the chocolate fountain! There's love in abundance, and if you just hold still for a few minutes, you might see a unicorn farting rai-

Alright, look. Real talk? Real talk time. This ish is wack. I'm sorry to have to break it to you like this, but…

Qilaeth will be a mess in those first sevens. How do you life?? How do you life when you are an extremely intelligent young dragon who has no concept of boundaries, rules, regulations, time, or bodily functions? Messily. So messily. How do you say- never-ending sleepover with your favorite being in the entire world? Well, maybe (there's no accounting for taste), but there won't be a whole lot of sleeping, in those first few days. There's too much to figure out, for Qilaeth, and for you too, for that matter.

(Q) "Truthfully, Jean-Luc, I've been entirely preoccupied by a most frightening experience of my own. A couple of hours ago, I realized that my body was no longer functioning properly. I felt weak. I could no longer stand. The life was oozing out of me. I lost consciousness."
(Capt. Picard) "You fell asleep."

Do you like lugging a constantly-growing dragonet around, or do you prefer sleeping out in the bowl, where he insisted on taking his breakfast? Congratulations! That's where we're at. In no way does Qilaeth know how to dragon, and it'll take some real time for him to quit railing against the unfairness of it all and settle down to actually figure it out. The histrionics the first time he has to use the little dragonet's room might raise the dead. His disgust over the food offered will turn the stomach of any within a twenty yard radius. The pre-nap fits will match a toddler's, only the toddler rants loudly and at length about physics and why this shouldn't be happening until he drops out of it.

He can't necessarily help this, but Qilaeth also won't help, period. Sometimes you just need to take a quick nap in the middle of the living caverns before you take your proper nap in the barracks. Who wants to sleep in the middle of a festering mob of idiots, anyways. Not anybody with any good sense. The disorientation of life is hard, okay? Even an omniscient, all-powerful Qilaeth would be a little confused by sleep, or eating, or, Faranth forbid, the functions of a working body.

{Data} "I have observed…that the selection of food is often influenced by the mood of the person ordering."
{Q} "I'm in a dreadful mood. Get me something appropriate."
{Data} "When Counselor Troi is unhappy, she usually eats something chocolate."
{Q} "Chocolate."
{Data} "Mm. A chocolate sundae, for example. Although I do not speak from personal experience, I have seen it have a profound psychological impact."
{Q, addressing waitress} "I'll have ten chocolate sundaes."
{Waitress} "…ten?"
{Data} "I have never seen anyone eat ten chocolate sundaes."
{Q} "I'm in a really bad mood, and since I've never eaten before, I should be very hungry."

At first, unfortunately (for you), Qilaeth is going to be no better at Life than anybody else. He'll need help with all sorts of things both mundane and also embarrassing, and boy, does he not enjoy that particular idea, not at first, and not at any point going forward. Dramatics, though? Oh, you bet your sweet ass, ma sœur. Those, from the very start, Qilaeth will excel at. He has a flair for them, you could even say. It comes naturally to him, the posturing, the preening under the rapt attention of his classmates as he loudly decries their treatment by Weyrstaff in general. When they listen, he's a little less deriding, but Qilaeth is not a particularly kind dragon. He doesn't fart flowers and his tongue isn't silver, save for when he needs to sweet talk somebody higher on the food chain than a dragonet.

Qilaeth? He's almost certain that almost nobody has anything useful at all to teach him, and you? Well, you have a long way to go, obviously, but you'll have better luck listening to him than that useless collection of random cellular sludge trying to teach him, of all people, about aerodynamics. Lessons are not going to be fun. Qilaeth would rather test your mettle by creating vivid fields of stinging bugs around you that seem so real, or challenges that skirt just a little too close to the edge of the danger zone for reasonable people. Oh, you want to pay attention to the Weyrlingmaster droning on and on about the angle the buckles and belts need to be on your straps? Good luck, with Qilaeth either drawing tentacles on their head or ranting about how wrong they are on this, that, or the other. Why should they bother with straps, when he could simply ensure that you don't fall?

And his clutchmates? Well…let's just say that he likes them a lot less than you for the most part, Andy, and it's sometimes hard to tell whether he actually likes you or not. He's kind of hard to read, if you want to come to any conclusion other than 'is this dragon for real?'.

{Q} "Ah, the redoubtable Commander Riker…and Microbrain! Growl for me, let me know you still care."

If they fight back, or are particularly clever, he might hold them in higher esteem, but really? Qilaeth has more important things to focus on than some slush-brained clutchmate who can't figure out how to defecate in the proper corner. You, for instance. You are quite the work in progress, Andy, and he'll be damned if he doesn't work some sort of a change on you, in his own way. Mold you into the very best self that you can manage. It's going to take some doing — a lot of midnight awakenings to quiz you and poke you and prod you, just an unconscionable number of them — but he'll get there. He's got sheer willpower and that big brain of his on his side, after all. Praise when you succeed? Faranth forbid. He'll heave dramatic sighs, and if a dragon could roll its eyes, you know Qilaeth would. Next time, the challenge will be harder, the riddle more ferocious than the last. He won't let up, no. Why would he? How are you meant to learn, if things aren't challenging? You could be so much more, if only you would open your mind.

(Capt. Picard) "We demonstrated to you that mankind had become peaceful and benevolent. You agreed and you let us go on our way. Now why am I standing here again?"
(Q) "Oh, you'd like me to connect the dots for you, lead you from A to B to C, so that your puny mind could comprehend? How boring."

Even as he grows into that big brain and bigger ego, Qilaeth won't be an easy dragon to be around. Little things like wing duties are of literally no interest to him, if you can't fit them into his latest scheme, or they don't do anything for him. Observing his "peers" (as if the term could be applied to any of them), well, it has its merits…but they're just so tedious, for the most part. So very tedious.

Still, there's some hope in a select few. Who they may be is anybody's guess, but over the turns you'll find that Qilaeth seems to develop something of a fondness for some of the members of whichever wing you end up flying with. Now, when I say fondness, you know I mean 'unlike the ones he ignores, Qilaeth will torment these poor dragons with the same schemes, riddles, and tests that you get, except worse, because they're not nearly as tolerable as you, Andy', right? Because Faranth, having this blue's attention is really not actually something that anybody should be striving for. Life's much easier if he ignores you. That's not to say it's better. Qilaeth can be a pretty useful ally, in his own way. If he happens to think you're in the right, things have a…shall we say, way of turning out right for you, however roundabout. People get demoted. Find themselves with very, very unfortunate tidbits leaked on their personal lives.

Then again, it was almost certainly also him who bold-faced told the Wingleader that you weren't actually sick the other day when you just needed a day to sit on your keester and do crap all. Hot and cold, man. Hot and cold.

{Q} "That Picard never had a brush with death. Never came face to face with his own mortality. Never realized how fragile life is or how important each moment might be. So his life never came into focus. […] He learned to play it safe. And he never, ever got noticed by anyone."

All this aside, Andy, you are the center of Qilaeth's interest in anything outside of himself and whatever he's got going on in his own head. Don't ever think otherwise. He might have a funny way of showing it, but damn, does Qilaeth want you to be incredible. He's more than a trickster, more than an asshole…he's your dragon, and with that comes a lot that doesn't revolve around his ferocity about drawing the best out of you. Whether he wants to or not, you'll have to do something in life, and he'll be damned if you're not going to be the best at it. You may be clumsy, but you'll either get un-clumsy, or Qilaeth is going to have to figure out a way to compensate for that. You may be a little forgetful, but draconic forgetfulness be damned, Qilaeth will remember for you. He will, naturally, needle at you so much that you try very, very hard to not forget anything, but isn't that the whole idea…?

It's not like Qilaeth is all obnoxious, scheming, mischief. He's got that big brain, and he knows how to use it — it's just kind of hard, sometimes, to convince him that he ought to. Applying himself to some mundane task? Why should you, when instead you can go observe a ship try and navigate a storm in the middle of the sea, and listen to Qilaeth explain what they're doing wrong, why, and how it could be better. Or fight a feline bare-handed. Ha, okay, he was kidding about that, but that's a swell idea, now that he thinks about it.

Fine. No wrestling felines. But how about you skive off this seven's wing trust exercises to help some weyrlings learn about trust at Telgar. It'll be great. You can scare the living pants off of them, and be back by lunch. Why would you trust your wingmates, anyways? Isn't that for idiots? Much more fun when you're alone, am I right.

{Q} "In all the universe, you're the closest thing I have to a friend, Jean-Luc."

It'll take some work to turn Qilaeth into something even vaguely resembling a proper dragon. He'll probably never march to the beat of another dragon's drum, never fit into the still-militaristic society that thread wrought on Pern so long ago. You'll learn to figure out his quirks in time, though, Andy. Never fear. He's not a complete misanthrope, not always a complete liar and purveyor of bad times. It's hard to be the smartest dragon in the room, you know — you have to make your own fun. You have to push others to their breaking point, to see what's left once they do.

Qilaeth's world is full of grey — there's no 'right' or 'wrong', there's only his will, the world, and how he'll make it. Others can try and go against his whims, they can try to rail against the inevitability, but for the most part, this blue gets exactly what he wants. Eventually. Whether that's you jumping through hoops for days on end for a what some might call a fool's errand (and some might call character building, or even essential learning), or a wing full of bakers, well. Never underestimate a stubborn dragon who seems to work miracles, if the price is right. If you've earned it, if you've crossed some threshold of rightness that only Qilaeth can see.

Good luck. You're going to need it.

{Q} "If you can't take a little bloody nose, maybe you had better go back home and crawl under your bed. It's not safe out here! It's wondrous, with treasures to satiate desires both subtle and gross. But it's not for the timid."

That's Qilaeth in a nutshell, really: Not for the timid. He may ruffle every feather in the Weyr, may not in the slightest be the dragon you saw yourself Impressing, but he's yours. You may sometimes question whether he actually likes you or not, question why he spends so much time needling at you and working your butt off on insane tasks, but you'll never have to question your connection. It's there, unshakable, immovable beneath the games and the snark and sneering, just out of sight. There's caring buried somewhere deep down, loyalty, even maybe a little pride from time to time. Just don't expect him to show all that very often, ok?

{Q} "You're not alone, you know. What you were, and what you are to become, will always be with you."


Not For The Timid
Qilaeth is an absolute master of mental chicanery. This might well get you in trouble at various points — you can be absolutely certain that it's been storming all morning, winds whipping far too high to come down from your ledge. Certain. You felt the rain on your face! Watched some poor idiot take a slip-n-slide and only just catch themself, one ledge over! But was that what actually happened, before you called it a morning and went back to bed? No. That, my dear, was a test, and you…failed, unfortunately. It's your fault, you should have noticed the subtle clues, and no, Qilaeth will not be apologizing to the buffoon who leads your wing on your behalf. He will taunt you over your loss of the game you should have known you were playing, though, probably.

It's rarely not a game with your dragon, after all. A test. A chance for you to prove some quality or other. A chance for you to fall flat on your face, if you're not paying close enough attention.

The voice behind the curtain is an imperious baritone, rarely quiet save for when it's inconvenient for it to be. Qilaeth does not need to shout to be heard, and if he wants to shout, a clap of thunder or angry cymbals will do the trick. There's not much to Qilaeth behind the curtain — cool white, quiet and calm, surprisingly — but there's quite a lot that he can do to turn your world upside-down and sideways, if he wants to. He is a master of mirage, just an absolute ace, fully capable and willing to show off his talents if he needs to. Some dragons are internal, deep knowing reaching far down into the very heart of them. Qilaeth is not. Even you don't have access to that, in consciousness. Your dragon, though? He is external to a fault, nearly, rarely content to let a day go by without drawing pigtails on the Weyrleader or subtly testing you with the occasional face swap on your acquaintances.

This does not go for other dragons, or, Faranth forbid, other humans he might be forced to have contact with. Nothingness. Absolute nothingness, and a voice in the mid-range of baritones, that's all they deserve, for the most part. Maybe it's for the best.


"Everything was normal and then, suddenly it's like the laws of physics went right out the window."
"And why shouldn't they? They're so inconvenient."

Look…there's a lot to be said for physical intimacy. Dragons. Instincts. Blah blah blah.

It's disgusting. Barbaric.

Qilaeth likes to think he's moved beyond all that nonsense, but Qilaeth is also, well. Your dragon. Subject to your whims and desires, however much he might not admit it.

Your blue will never be much of a tail-chaser, not a frequent in the green rings. He may, however, eventually cave to whatever you want. If you feel strongly about a green (or, shells, he'll figure out a gold, if any blue could, it'd be Qilaeth), he will catch her. He will move heaven and earth, rewrite physics and shank any other idiot who gets in his way. If he likes her, he'll even, well. Try to woo her. There's varying levels of success, but if you ask him, Qilaeth is obviously a catch. Who could resist him, if he went for such disgusting things as love and attraction.

Losing? No. Not an option, actually, thank you. Faranth forbid- you ain't seen nothin' until you've seen a jilted Qilaeth.

Then again, is winning really better, when he gloats and carries on with obnoxious, over-the-top flattery for days? We'll let you be the judge of that.


If you think this hulking blue's some sort of menace, with those massive shoulders and broad wings, you're not…quite mistaken, but that's not all there is to Qilaeth. There's a flamboyance to this blue's movements that's almost theatrical, a care and precision in his step that is absolutely not a mistake. He moves with more stealth than you would ever think possible for a dragon, one moment a dozen yards in front of you, the next right at your shoulder leaning in to make a point.

In youth, this will uh, not work out so hot actually. Much like his propinquity for passing out mid-sentence, Qilaeth will probably be notorious for enhancing your clumsiness in those first few sevens. Avoid breakables, yeah? He won't get full control of those wings that grow disproportionately to his body until they quit, sometime in the middle of his growth, and until then you'll just have to figure out how to convince him to quit trying to show off and go slow.

Once past this, however, Qilaeth will hold masterful control over himself. In the air, he's a spectacle, in the perfect mid-upper range of draconic size that begets both power and grace. And Faranth, does he know how to show it off! He tests himself almost as much as he tests you, in those tedious hours when you're otherwise occupied. Even if he never does anything with it, your blue will be quite the aerial stunner, seeming to have full control over physics and their relation to his body. So what if he generally will only ever use it to show off to the drooling masses, to show them what a real dragon moves like, or something. That doesn't make it any less impressive.


HI ANDY ♥♥♥ We hope that you enjoyed your candidacy, and that you will enjoy your dragonriding life with us as well!! Condolences on all the just…mass amounts of shenanigans you'll no doubt get up to with Qilaeth as a dragon!
Egg Our egg theme this cycle was the zodiac! Your Unpredictable Winds Egg was based on Gemini, the twins! <3
Dragon As requested, Qilaeth is based on Star Trek's Q! He's The Worst (The Best? totally), but yooooou asked for it! We hope very much that you love him, warts and all!! Real talk, Qilaeth is yours — from his name, to his desc, to his personality. We want you to be happy, and if that means changing things, he's all yours!
Name meaning Andy. Andy. I don't think I've ever had a harder time with a dragon name, and in the end it took help, but like, if Qilaeth doesn't jive with you you're welcome to change it!! We want you to love this big fella. "Reliquiae" is the root word of his name, meaning "relic" or "remains of the dead", something like "to leave behind" being my vague idea of it. To be honest, it was the *closest* Q word that I could make into a name that sounded nice! Qilaeth's hatchling name is based on a quote by John de Lancie himself, quoting Byron - that Q is "Mad, Bad, and Dangerous to Know", I liked that a lot.


Name Qilaeth
Dam Leirith
Sire Xermiltoth
Created By Citayla
Impressee Andalise (Andy)
Hatched July 25th, 2022
Xanadu Weyr
PernWorld MUSH

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