Post by Samantha on Jun 11, 2015 3:04:25 GMT
Hey! It's been a while since I last roleplayed Tivialous. So I wrote this story to fill in some gaps, since I intend to use him again soon.
If we assume that What do you want? is set a couple of days bp (there's no mention of Dragonsdeep, so I have the impression that it is before formal exploration began; but Tiv's preoccupation with Ysera's mind-state shows that the quake has happened); I'm going to tentatively set this story a day after the current main plot thread (Delving Deeper).
(mainly for my own reference: the presence of the CoM probably won't be made apparent to everyone, once the Elementals find out (depending on who finds out first), until some kind of Gathering has been held about it. Which means setting stuff after the current main plot thread should be okay, for up to a week- though I have it set as four days just to be sure).
Torin I used an Air Creation and referenced Astraeus in this, please PM me if you have any issues with how I depicted stuffs. =)
***
Tivialous-during Dragonsdeep
Tivialous looked down at the corpse, half buried beneath a tangle of grass, and all he could think was: I’m glad Tam isn’t here for this.
Zannetra was her name, and she was an Air Creation- not, strictly speaking, one of his. But she’d been welcome there all the same, and had been one of the first dragons Tam had met when she’d arrived on the island, and now here she was: lying there, if she’d even been lying down, for she had very obviously been here since the quake and they had only just now found her…
She’d been a good dragon, if a little difficult to befriend. Honest. Reliable. And although Tivialous considered himself beyond such things in general, and held especially little faith in them now; he bowed his head and murmured the prayer Zannet had taught him years before. The words slipped smoothly from his tongue, for he had heard them uttered often, even though this was the first time he had spoken them aloud himself.
When he opened his eyes, Isador was standing opposite, gazing at him with gravity and wonderment in equal measure.
I needed to make sure my family were alright, he’d said, when Tivialous stumbled across him at the border. Admittedly, the Elemental had been grateful for his unexpected return: one less life to worry about, after all. But the way he’d said family had just…it had reminded Tivialous far too poignantly of the distance between them. To him, they were Creations: he would protect and serve them as needed, and he loved and cherished them all in his way. But family, the very concept of the thing, carried different connotations. And every time Isador looked at him now, he could see it all too clearly- he was a father in the yellow drake’s eyes, the subject of familial loyalty, and it was a source of too much guilt.
“The queen of the elms,” Isador murmured, and frowned, evidently finding it beyond him to recite the prayer. Then he shuffled his wings, and craned his neck towards Light.
“I found her like this, I don’t know how long…I thought you would want to know. Maybe you already did. But I thought if you didn’t, then you would want to?”
He looked at Tivialous expectantly, and the lean Elemental forced a smile.
“Of course, Isador. Thank-you for letting me know. I will deal with this accordingly.”
“Would you like me to…?” Isador’s voice trailed off.
“No, Isador. Thank-you, but I feel that I should be the one to take care of this.”
The yellow dragon nodded and turned away, but he didn’t leave. Tivialous could sense him hovering in the background, just a little way up the hill, probably at the edge of the trees. Giving him enough room for…whatever he thought Light was about to do, but still close enough to watch the proceedings. Morbid curiosity was in itself a curious trait, present in every sentient species he’d thus far encountered. Tivialous ignored Isador for the moment, and instead raised his gaze to the starlit sky.
It would be proper to let Astraeus deal with this, he knew. But how long would it take to track down the Air Elemental, lead him from his own lands to those of Light, and from there to Zannetra’s resting place? The body was a health hazard- death bred death, it was a well-known fact. He would alert Astraeus as soon as Libra returned, but…he couldn’t just leave the body like this. Besides, perhaps Astraeus would prefer not to see his handiwork so pitifully ravaged.
Tivialous looked down, meeting those empty eyes and the face crawling with flies, and muttered the last few lines of Zannetra’s prayer. Then he inhaled deeply, found his spark, and enveloped the thicket in a bloom of golden flame.
Within minutes the remains were gone, the fire sputtering into embers as the damp earth halted its advance. Tivialous had averted his eyes, content to use the glare as an excuse to mask his discomfort at watching those bones burn, smoulder, crumble to ash. But now an acrid smell crept into the air, and he backed away towards Isador, who sat at a respectable distance and gazed solemnly on.
“It is done,” Tivialous said. “Thank-you, Isador.”
There was no curiosity now. The younger dragon just looked sad, frightened even. Tivialous couldn’t pinpoint why- the state of the body itself, he felt, should have been far more disturbing than its ultimate fate. Isador looked up at the sky, to where the first light of dawn was beginning to stain the eastern horizon, and the Elemental let him be. It occurred to him that this could be the first deceased dragon, or at least destruction, that his young Creation had seen.
After a few minutes, Isador seemed to remember where he was. He blinked, startled, and turned back towards Tivialous.
“Err…sorry.” he said, blushing slightly. “I think…I haven’t seen Siru and Keed in a week maybe, or maybe a bit more, I…should probably make sure they’re alright, shouldn’t I?”
Friends of his, no doubt. But the Creation was looking at him imploringly, awaiting some kind of signal that it was okay; that he could go and see those friends, and that Tivialous would be okay with that. He didn’t look happy. He looked unwell, even, and his limbs trembled slightly. Even after all the eons, and all the different Creations which had passed him by, Tivialous wished that he could help. But there was nothing he could say to take away the images, he’d learned that much.
Nothing he could do to give his Creation back his innocence.
“That would be a good idea,” he said, with a nod and a well-rehearsed smile. “Stay safe, Isador.”
The Creation looked at him with eyes so stained with horror and relief that it was all Tivialous could do to avoid looking away. Then the yellow dragon nodded gravely, attempted a smile which didn’t quite reach his eyes, and spread his wings to leave.
“I will. You too.”
Then he flew away, and Tivialous could almost feel the pain coming at him through the aether, and there was nothing he could do. A sudden pang of anxiety, in the pit of his stomach, as he realised just how murky was the path ahead. Where to from here? What would become of him, of Ysera and Icarus, of Kess and Prism? Of Tam? He couldn’t tell, but he knew one thing: it would not be the same. Not for a long, long time.
If we assume that What do you want? is set a couple of days bp (there's no mention of Dragonsdeep, so I have the impression that it is before formal exploration began; but Tiv's preoccupation with Ysera's mind-state shows that the quake has happened); I'm going to tentatively set this story a day after the current main plot thread (Delving Deeper).
(mainly for my own reference: the presence of the CoM probably won't be made apparent to everyone, once the Elementals find out (depending on who finds out first), until some kind of Gathering has been held about it. Which means setting stuff after the current main plot thread should be okay, for up to a week- though I have it set as four days just to be sure).
Torin I used an Air Creation and referenced Astraeus in this, please PM me if you have any issues with how I depicted stuffs. =)
***
Tivialous-during Dragonsdeep
Tivialous looked down at the corpse, half buried beneath a tangle of grass, and all he could think was: I’m glad Tam isn’t here for this.
Zannetra was her name, and she was an Air Creation- not, strictly speaking, one of his. But she’d been welcome there all the same, and had been one of the first dragons Tam had met when she’d arrived on the island, and now here she was: lying there, if she’d even been lying down, for she had very obviously been here since the quake and they had only just now found her…
She’d been a good dragon, if a little difficult to befriend. Honest. Reliable. And although Tivialous considered himself beyond such things in general, and held especially little faith in them now; he bowed his head and murmured the prayer Zannet had taught him years before. The words slipped smoothly from his tongue, for he had heard them uttered often, even though this was the first time he had spoken them aloud himself.
When he opened his eyes, Isador was standing opposite, gazing at him with gravity and wonderment in equal measure.
I needed to make sure my family were alright, he’d said, when Tivialous stumbled across him at the border. Admittedly, the Elemental had been grateful for his unexpected return: one less life to worry about, after all. But the way he’d said family had just…it had reminded Tivialous far too poignantly of the distance between them. To him, they were Creations: he would protect and serve them as needed, and he loved and cherished them all in his way. But family, the very concept of the thing, carried different connotations. And every time Isador looked at him now, he could see it all too clearly- he was a father in the yellow drake’s eyes, the subject of familial loyalty, and it was a source of too much guilt.
“The queen of the elms,” Isador murmured, and frowned, evidently finding it beyond him to recite the prayer. Then he shuffled his wings, and craned his neck towards Light.
“I found her like this, I don’t know how long…I thought you would want to know. Maybe you already did. But I thought if you didn’t, then you would want to?”
He looked at Tivialous expectantly, and the lean Elemental forced a smile.
“Of course, Isador. Thank-you for letting me know. I will deal with this accordingly.”
“Would you like me to…?” Isador’s voice trailed off.
“No, Isador. Thank-you, but I feel that I should be the one to take care of this.”
The yellow dragon nodded and turned away, but he didn’t leave. Tivialous could sense him hovering in the background, just a little way up the hill, probably at the edge of the trees. Giving him enough room for…whatever he thought Light was about to do, but still close enough to watch the proceedings. Morbid curiosity was in itself a curious trait, present in every sentient species he’d thus far encountered. Tivialous ignored Isador for the moment, and instead raised his gaze to the starlit sky.
It would be proper to let Astraeus deal with this, he knew. But how long would it take to track down the Air Elemental, lead him from his own lands to those of Light, and from there to Zannetra’s resting place? The body was a health hazard- death bred death, it was a well-known fact. He would alert Astraeus as soon as Libra returned, but…he couldn’t just leave the body like this. Besides, perhaps Astraeus would prefer not to see his handiwork so pitifully ravaged.
Tivialous looked down, meeting those empty eyes and the face crawling with flies, and muttered the last few lines of Zannetra’s prayer. Then he inhaled deeply, found his spark, and enveloped the thicket in a bloom of golden flame.
Within minutes the remains were gone, the fire sputtering into embers as the damp earth halted its advance. Tivialous had averted his eyes, content to use the glare as an excuse to mask his discomfort at watching those bones burn, smoulder, crumble to ash. But now an acrid smell crept into the air, and he backed away towards Isador, who sat at a respectable distance and gazed solemnly on.
“It is done,” Tivialous said. “Thank-you, Isador.”
There was no curiosity now. The younger dragon just looked sad, frightened even. Tivialous couldn’t pinpoint why- the state of the body itself, he felt, should have been far more disturbing than its ultimate fate. Isador looked up at the sky, to where the first light of dawn was beginning to stain the eastern horizon, and the Elemental let him be. It occurred to him that this could be the first deceased dragon, or at least destruction, that his young Creation had seen.
After a few minutes, Isador seemed to remember where he was. He blinked, startled, and turned back towards Tivialous.
“Err…sorry.” he said, blushing slightly. “I think…I haven’t seen Siru and Keed in a week maybe, or maybe a bit more, I…should probably make sure they’re alright, shouldn’t I?”
Friends of his, no doubt. But the Creation was looking at him imploringly, awaiting some kind of signal that it was okay; that he could go and see those friends, and that Tivialous would be okay with that. He didn’t look happy. He looked unwell, even, and his limbs trembled slightly. Even after all the eons, and all the different Creations which had passed him by, Tivialous wished that he could help. But there was nothing he could say to take away the images, he’d learned that much.
Nothing he could do to give his Creation back his innocence.
“That would be a good idea,” he said, with a nod and a well-rehearsed smile. “Stay safe, Isador.”
The Creation looked at him with eyes so stained with horror and relief that it was all Tivialous could do to avoid looking away. Then the yellow dragon nodded gravely, attempted a smile which didn’t quite reach his eyes, and spread his wings to leave.
“I will. You too.”
Then he flew away, and Tivialous could almost feel the pain coming at him through the aether, and there was nothing he could do. A sudden pang of anxiety, in the pit of his stomach, as he realised just how murky was the path ahead. Where to from here? What would become of him, of Ysera and Icarus, of Kess and Prism? Of Tam? He couldn’t tell, but he knew one thing: it would not be the same. Not for a long, long time.