Swirls and whorls of shimmering iridescence dance across the tourmaline hide of this sturdy, stately dragon, tracing abstract patterns that seem to shift fluidly just beneath her skin. Gold and emerald feathers brush delicately along the lines of her lean, aristocratic muzzle, slicking upwards before fading into a faint malachite haze along the sharp tilt of her eyeridges. The patterning continues down her long neck, spreading out over broad shoulders to curl down her forelegs, ending in a subtle lace spread across forefeet tipped in gilded talons. Opalescence continues along the spars that spring from shoulder blades, twining vine-like along substantial wing bones. Vivacious color pales as spar becomes sail, fading into creamy jade with only the faintest hint of gold threaded through. Like fine gauze, her wing sails are nearly translucent - mere delicate accents to the rich vibrancy of her hide. The rest of her solid frame is similarly wreathed with subtle highlights of sapphire and topaz beneath agate hide, blossoming in fantastical florets from belly to haunches before fading into nothing more than a faint suggestion along her robust tail.
Egg Name and Description
The Best Medicine Egg
Riotous colors encompass the surface of this little egg to tickle the senses and eyes alike with the vivid plum of clever innuendos coupled with the brilliant yellow of funny stories - both drawing beholders to contemplate their own awkward moments with amusement. If irony has a color perhaps it is the orange of farfetched mishaps - the type the harpers write rollicking ballads about - that winds about the rich red of goofy faces, the caricature of self drawing a grin in spite of one's best resolve not to. The pink hues of chortling babies draws a silly grin in response, while unexpected surprises wrap a blanket of bright green about the mirth bubbling up. All quite contagious!
As the first breath of laughter will hit a person midsection and spread in waves to their throat, in much the same way does The Best Medicine Egg quivers, goes still, then quivers yet again. Finally, it shudders a time or two before merrily rolling on the sands - laughing. Er. Wobbling.
As it comes in sharp contact with one of its sibling's eggs, The Best Medicine Egg cracks up. Literally. The shell buckles, tiny fissures spreading in ripples across the surface. Abruptly, indentation becomes bulge as something within the shell pushes back against the intrusion, sending it skittering backwards, leaving behind a trail of shards.
Abruptly, the shell of The Best Medicine Egg crumples and collapses to the sands in a heap of colorful shards leaving the occupant standing proudly amongst the ruins as it had pre-arranged this sudden unveiling and had a pose all ready to strike that seems to say: Hey everybody! I'm here!
1st Sand Pose
Femme Fatale in a Feather Mask Green Hatchling sits among the remains of her home, tail twitching back and forth as she lifts her bemasked head, blinking large, dazzled eyes at the crowd around her. With a rustle of her wings, she glances down, lifting one forefoot, then the other, shaking them delicately before coming to her feet and twisting to check out the rest of her sturdy little body. Once she's satisfied her legs are all there, she turns her attention back to those gathered just for her benefit, curving her neck and giving all of the Candidates a coy glance. Well, well. Hello there. With a hitch to her stride that turns walk into sashay, she moves out, away from the rest of the clutch and closer to the white-robed people awaiting her.
2nd Sand Pose
Femme Fatale in a Feather Mask Green Hatchling seems a bit miffed at all of the attention being given the other dragonets and eggs. With a huffing breath, she opens her jaws and lets loose with a demanding *squawk* that somehow echoes over the sound of the torrent outside, clearly intending that all eyes return to her. Gauzy wings spread, fluttering in the heated breeze from the sands as she slips from sashay to stalk, gilt talons digging into the sands as she lowers her belly to the ground, hindquarters wiggling. Her nostrils flare as she catches scent of something positively interesting and she shifts to her right slightly, making her way towards a particular group of Candidates.
Personal Impression Message
She comes in a rush, a swirl of green and gold that drifts at the outer edge of your vision like a dusting of feathers. Streamers flutter in the wake of her passage, twisting and twirling in riotous abandon. « Little One! I wondered when you would get here! Isnt this simply marvelous? All of this fuss for little old Szadith? And you, too, of course. My little Kinzie, all grown up. » Laughter trills, clearly joyous, a harmonic counterpart for the constant soft tinkle of wind chimes in the background. « Come, darling, stop gaping like some common holder - youre among the elite now! It wont do but for you to remember - with me, youre always in the spotlight. » Coyly, loops of emerald and topaz wrap tight around your mind, enmeshing it in a silken net as strong as the finest steel. You are, indeed, well and truly caught. « I know were the life of the party, but I think it is time for us to make a timely exit. I do believe Im just a little bit famished, and something around here certainly smells good. Think theyll have some nice wherry with a side of packtail? »
Public Impression Message
Femme Fatale in a Feather Mask Green Hatchling doesn't seem quite as concerned when the attention of the crowd once more wanders from her - there is something more important out there then the stares of the common masses. With a demanding creel, she darts forward, pushing impatiently past a pair of Candidates unlucky enough to be in her way, shouldering them aside without any concern for their safety, or her own. Wings fluttering in her wake and tail lashing, she races pell-mell for one girl in particular. With a spray of sand, she skids to a halt before her chosen mate, wings raising to cup up and around as she stares haughtily into a pair of blue-grey eyes.
" No, no, no, don't tell me: you're the Captain!"
" Of course, your daughter has explained your telepathic abilities."
" No, that wasn't telepathy, it was just common sense. Who else would they send to greet me but the Captain?"
Self-aware. Self-sufficient. Self-aggrandizing. Self-absorbed. Szadith is very concerned with self - often to the exclusion of all else. This is not to say, however, that she is selfish. Such a label would indicate that her rather egotistical manner has some ulterior motive. Rather, Szadith's belief that she is the center of the universe stems from a rather charming naivet - she genuinely believes that she is the being around which all revolves, and she naturally believes that everyone else knows this - and agrees with her. She is categorically incapable of understanding that she is but one of many, or that there are those who are, in a sense, more important, whether due to rank or to coloration, such as in the case of queens.
Fortunately, she's not inherently insubordinate - she simply doesn't take orders well. Actually, she doesn't understand why anyone would think they can give her orders. When told to do something, Szadith's first impulse will be to argue. « What? Why should I do that? Why can't /you/ stand on the Star Stones for hours? Don't you know what the wind up there does to my hide? It'll dry me out! » "Because I said so" will likely spark a sulk, but eventually she'll give in - grumbling the whole time. To be fair, a well-reasoned explanation will likely trigger much the same response. She really doesn't understand why she has to follow orders - but eventually, she'll do it if only to shut up the person nagging at her.
"You realize of course that with Betazoids, our ability to read the thoughts of others does see us grow much faster than the typical, plodding Human."
Privacy is an issue with Szadith - in that as far as she's concerned, there's no such thing. She has an incredibly powerful mind and never hesitates to use it. Surface thoughts are hers for the plucking, and if she wants to know something, she has no qualms against delving deeper to dig it out. To her, telepathy is the most natural mode of communication - vocalizations are pedestrian and time-consuming. While it is often second-nature for a dragonrider to speak out loud to answer his life-mate, don't be surprised if that particular habit earns you the stinging rebuke of « Mindvoice, dear! ». With Szadith dipping into every mind she comes into contact with, you'll find yourself in possession of a fine repository of secrets, information, and gossip - much of which you'll probably wish you never knew.
"You've got to enjoy life, relax, like I do. Find yourself the right man. Think of your future. Hm - think of *my* future."
There is one being whom Szadith will think of before herself: you. This isn't to say that when it comes to you, she's all sweetness and obedience and blind devotion - but you are the only creature on Pern that she considers to be as important as herself. Of course, this simply means that she holds you to the same standards to which she holds herself - so prepare for lessons in etiquette, life, and love. Szadith is an exacting creature: everything - and everyone - has its place, and you are no exception. You will be expected to enjoy life - and the limelight - as much as she does. But perhaps the most important lesson you will be expected to learn is how to listen to yourself - how not to deny yourself the right to give in to that wild urge to fly to Ierne for a trip to the spa, or seduce that brownrider into your bed, or simply sunbathe on the beach (naked, natch!). Don't be surprised when Szadith tries to cajole you into ditching lessons for a romp in the meadow or insists that you forget about those pesky sweeps - there's much more fun to be had in attending a dance at the Harper Hall!
"It looks ordinary. I've never cared to be ordinary."
Beneath the carefree, party-girl exterior swarm a bunch of tiny neuroses that you'll be expected to soothe and comfort. Painfully aware that she is average in form, Szadith will be exacting to the point of obsession over the care of her unusual patterning. If she can't attract the eye by being lithe or svelte, at least she can draw attention thanks to the shimmer and shine of her peacock-hued hide. This means bathing at least once a day - more, if she's been forced to work! - and oiling after every bath. And, yes, it means you'll be carting a jar of oil around just in case she needs a bit of a touchup. Oh - and you're a part of her. If she's going to look her best, it means you will have to, as well. So you might want to open an account with the Weavers. And woe betide you when she learns there's a weaver-turned-greenrider at Western Weyr who specializes in lingerie and make-overs.
"I'm supposed to do everything right all the time. I don't know how."
"To tell you the truth, little warrior… neither do I."
Szadith will, occasionally, suffer from bouts of anxiety and self-despair. She'll be convinced that she's ordinary, that she's dull, that something is wrong with her. It will be up to you to draw her back from the cliff and show her just how special she is. It will be during these times as no other that you'll understand that beneath the social butterfly exterior is a real person, with flaws just like everyone else - and that, perhaps, the face she shows to the world is but a carefully crafted mask. Of course, if you do your job right, these little glimpses into the real Szadith will be short-lived.
"Legs! Where are the legs?"
"Where they belong, Mother - right under you."
Szadith has one tiny phobia. She's afraid of *between*. It will take a strong will to convince her to go *between* and a strong mind to keep her from panicking once she's there. It will never become easier for her to *between*, and you'll frequently have an uphill battle with her as to whether it's really necessary - but, as with all things, she'll give in gracelessly when she realizes you won't relent. Just be ready to soothe and reassure her that she's still all there when you reappear in the real world.
Szadith is a bundle of contradictions rolled into an elegant green body - but somehow, she manages to make them into the seamless whole that is her. Impetuous, reckless, self-involved - she seems to live from moment to moment, and yet frequently displays a grasp of life beyond the obvious. You wanted a dragon to pull Kinzie out of her shell and show her how to live life to the fullest - and Szadith will do exactly that.
"My mother is beginning a physiological phase. It's one that all Betazoid women must deal with as they enter midlife."
"Yes, it's something Troi warned me about when we first started to see each other. A Betazoid woman, when she goes through this phase… quadruples her sex drive."
"Or more? You never told me that."
"I didn't want to frighten you."
Like a Betazoid woman entering the Phase, Szadith's sex-drive will increase exponentially when she goes proddy. Like many greens, she'll go into heat every four months - and with her, it's like clockwork, so at least you'll always have advanced warning. She'll flirt with any male that gets in her way when she's proddy (Well, she'll flirt even when she's not!), but there will always be that special male that becomes her personal obsession. It may or may not be the same one every time - but when she's in heat, she'll turn from flirt to stalker, and her chosen male will find it difficult to find any place where she is not. At least she'll be so focused on her own satisfaction that she won't have much time to nag you about finding a mate of your own - at least, not as often.
The actual flight won't be some grand, drawn-out affair - Szadith prefers chasing over being chased, and is far more likely to take to the air for a quick dance to determine which of the males she wants, and then pluck her chosen suitor from the pack herself. And should she manage to be captured by someone other than her choice - beware the wrath. She'll give into the inevitable - eventually - but her fury (both during and after) will be awesome to behold. She's no stranger to grudges - and expects that you will join her in her anger - so any male bold enough to catch her without her permission will find himself haunted and hounded to exhaustion until he finds some way to appease her.
Color! Blue and gold and green abound, swirls and whorls that echo the intricate pattern of her hide. Her mind is ever in motion, even when she sleeps, and when she's particularly enthusiastic, you may find yourself viewing the world through an iridescent haze. Within the abstract shapes that form from these tendrils of color there might occasionally be a hint of imagery indicative of what she's currently discussing: a face, a vista, an item: just enough to give you an indication of what the focus of the conversation is.
Her voice is brash, deeper than expected, but almost musical in cadence and tone. When she's excited - which is frequently - it may take on a touch of shrillness, but it never reaches unpleasant ranges. Behind the words, there's frequently an accompaniment of wind chimes, a rhythmless but harmonic pulse of soft ringing that lends an echo to her words.
Szadith's desc was inspired by the dress worn by Lwaxana Troi at the end of Mnage a Troi (http://bit.ly/In2srA). Szadith's name was inspired by the Betazoid and Japanese words for 'beloved', Imzadi and Saiai respectively. Szadith's personality is inspired by the indomitable Lwaxana Troi herself (http://bit.ly/xfQSyg).
The egg theme for this clutch was 'Things That Come in Assortments' and with that in mind, The best Medicine Egg draws its inspiration from 'Standup Comedians Joke Repertoires'. The description is not based on anything physical but rather figurative things that might make one laugh while the name says it all - laughter is truly the best medicine.
|Name||Femme Fatale in a Feather Mask Green Szadith|
|Created By||N'shen and Thea|
|Hatched||April 10, 2012|