A specifically lore-oriented side blog for my Flight Rising account, TwilightFlower (#34920).
Feel free to ask me questions about my clan, and if you see any typos, errors, inconsistencies, or other weirdness, please let me know.
Lunasa is the mechanic on the Kittiwake.
Lunasa is the daughter of Benedick and Beatrice. She is their first child and came from a single egg clutch. As a result, her parents completely doted on her, and she spent quite a lot of time with them on the Kittiwake. She loved getting into all the tiny crawl spaces and hiding spots the ship had to offer and was, frustratingly for her parents and their crew mates, remarkably adept and hide and seek. One of her favorite places to hide was the engine room, although getting behind control panels and the like was also fun.
As a result of all of this, Lunasa became quite familiar with the inner workings of the ship and how all of its various moving parts worked. Mechanical devices became a fascination for her as she got older, and she started hiding in the engine room more to study the engine than to actually play games. The ship was her home, her school, and her life, and she made it her mission to be able to care for it the way it had cared for her as a child. Lunasa loves her parents and her clan, but the she considers the Kittiwake almost like a third parent for her.
Lunasa didn’t take her leave of the clan the way other children usually do, and that even Ipomoea took before coming back home to settle permanently with the clan. At first, this worried some of the older members who were concerned that Lunasa wouldn’t see the world outside of their territory and would be too sheltered as a result. But her prowess at maintaining the Kittiwake means she is essential personnel and travels extensively with the ship and its crew. She has seen a good deal of the world and its people as a result, and she still chooses to return home to Pleiochroma every time. She can’t imagine wanting to live anywhere else.
Ipomoea woke to the sound of Alaric’s breathing and the feel of his body warm against her side. She lay there for a moment, revelling in the feeling of peace, knowing she would have to end it soon. After a moment, she mentally sighed and rolled over.
“Alaric,” she said softly. He didn’t answer. “Alaric,” she said again, a little louder this time. “It’s time to get up.”
Alaric still didn’t answer, but Ipomoea detected a slight change in his breathing. A change so small she felt it more than heard it, but it was enough. She knew he was awake.
“Alaric, come on,” she said, even louder than before. “I know you’re up. There’s no use pretending.”
Alaric opened one of his eyes slowly. “Morning, Glory,” he said lazily. Ipomoea rolled her eyes and swatted his nose. The new pun version of her nickname was, if possible, even more annoying than the name itself. Alaric laughed at the disgruntled look on Ipomoea’s face and sat up. “Alright, I’m up,” he said, though Ipomoea could see he wasn’t any happier about it than she was.
The pair had been home from their mission for a week now, and Alaric had been sneaking into Ipomoea’s room every night after the rest of the clan was asleep. And every morning, he would have to sneak back to his own room before anyone noticed. They did have time in the lab during the day, but there was work to be done, and getting too intimate in the lab was a recipe for disaster. Besides, Ipomoea was not known for being the quietest partner, and her lab, unlike the clan sleeping quarters, wasn’t soundproof. So the pair had to content themselves with their stolen nights. It was not ideal for either of them, but it was necessary to keep up the ruse that Alaric was just a child. Ipomoea wished they could drop the ruse altogether, if only so they could spend however much time together they wanted, but the job came first. That didn’t make it any easier to kick Alaric out of her bed in the wee hours of every morning, though.
Alaric leaned over and kissed her lightly on the nose. “We’ll figure this out, I promise.” It was becoming his mantra, a small prayer said every morning before he left. She wasn’t sure whether he was trying to convince her or himself.
Just as Ipomoea was about to answer him, her bedroom door burst open. In the doorway stood Calla. Oh fuck. We forgot to lock the door last night. Of all the people in the world to catch the two of them in that moment, her mother was the last person Ipomoea would have chosen.
Calla sized up the situation in a moment, and was through the door and had shut it firmly behind her before Ipomoea could form another thought. She seemed out of breath and flustered, and Ipomoea couldn’t begin to think why, but she felt a sudden sense of dread.
“We’ll discuss the prudence of locked doors when one is carrying on a secret relationship later,” Calla began in a voice far more commanding that Ipomoea would have thought possible of her. “But right now, we have bigger problems. We are under attack.”
“Attack?” Ipomoea asked, suddenly confused. “By whom?”
“Don’t you know?” Calla asked pointedly.
“Marens,” Alaric and Ipomoea said together. The word seemed to escape from the pair of them like air from a deflating balloon, and for a moment they both seemed to sag in on themselves. They couldn’t look at each other or at Calla.
“Yes, dear, Marens. Your chickens have finally come home to roost.”
Ipomoea’s head shot up as she began to process those words. “What do you mean, ‘my chickens have come home to roost’?” she asked, although she was pretty sure she knew what the answer would be.
“How stupid do you think I am, child? I am your mother. I see when you come and go. Every time a Maren died, you were gone. I know a pattern when I see one. You think I don’t pay attention to the people around me just because I don’t like to talk to them? Where exactly do you think your skill for keeping secrets came from anyway? Your father?” Calla scoffed. “I love my mate dearly, but he’s never been able to keep a single secret from me since we’ve been together. I have known about every surprise date he’s ever planned. Opening his gifts was a mere formality. He is an open book, that one. No, you didn’t get your professional talents from him.”
“So you knew this whole time? You knew that I was -”
“An assassin. Yes, of course I knew. And before you ask, no I didn’t say anything. I don’t approve of your choice of career, Ipomoea, but you are my daughter, and I love you. And so I kept my silence to protect you. I knew there was a good chance you wouldn’t be allowed to stay if your secret was known to the clan. You might even be killed for it. And I assumed there was some sort of penalty to be had from whoever trained and employs you. It was just safer this way.” Calla had a sad, tired look in her eyes now, and Ipomoea wondered whether she had ever since her mother like this before. She didn’t think she had. It pained her to think she had been causing her mother so much grief, but she could think of nothing to say by way of either apology or comfort.
After a moment, Calla seemed to shake herself and stood up a little straighter. “Never mind all of that. We can deal with it after we defend our home and our family. Right now, there’s work to do.” Calla opened the door a crack and peeked out. “Alaric, dear,” she said after a moment, “You’ll want to change back in here. The hallway is empty and your secret will be perfectly safe.”
Ipomoea looked at Alaric. She hadn’t even had time to think about Calla’s non-reaction to his adult form, but clearly, it had been on his mind the whole time. The look on his face as he shifted back to his child’s body was one of curiosity tinged with worry.
“How did you know I was a shapeshifter?” Alaric asked.
“Later,” Calla said firmly. “Let’s go.” She threw the door open and left in the direction of the common area. Ipomoea shrugged and Alaric, before picking him up, putting him on her shoulders, and following in her mother’s wake. The dread she had felt before, momentarily swept aside by the revelations about her mother, returned full force. She felt it settle over her mind like a heavy blanket, and anxious thoughts began racing in her mind. This wasn’t supposed to happen, she thought. They weren’t supposed to get hurt. Blinking back tears, she sped up to join her clan, hoping against hope that they would come out of this mess alive.
Emma’s familiar is a Fallen Streak named Katrin. She initially chose it because it bothered Josep and having it tended to get her out of apprentice work. Katrin, like most birds, is a very messy pet to have around, and on top of that, Katrin does really get along with Josep’s nekomata. So if she wanted a day off, she would just bring the Fallen Streak to work with her.
But that ended the day the aforementioned nekomata got hold of Katrin and managed to yank a few flight feathers before the bird could get away. Emma immediately leapt to her pet’s rescue and managed to scoop Katrin up before any further damage was done. She took the streak straight to Tilney for fixing up and just about spoiled Katrin while she recovered from her thankfully minor injuries. Emma hadn’t realized she had grown so attached to the bird, but it became abundantly clear at this point. Since then, she refuses to let Katrin anywhere near the workshop and keeps a close watch on her whenever there are any cats nearby. At times, she can even be a bit overbearing, although nobody really blames her. Katrin, for her part, takes care to stay out of reach of any cats and tries very hard to stay out of any trouble at all, usually preferring to perch on Emma’s horns or nestle between her shoulder blades when they are out and about. And frankly, even if Emma had let her back in the workshop, she wouldn’t go. She’d much prefer staying home in Emma’s rooms with some treats and wait for Emma to be done with work.
Asa keeps a Wildwood Owl she calls Ingrid. Her reasoning is really very simple. She loves owls. A lot. She used to stay up late as a child just so she could go owl watching after dark. It got her in a fair amount of trouble as a child, but she always thought it was worth it. And having a Wildwood owl as a familiar, aside from making her utterly giddy over it, is useful for her line of work. Asa spends a good amount of her time studying the lines and curves of the owl, the way its form mimics the trees it usually lives in. She carefully sketches how everything flows and then works to reproduce that in her pieces. Her style is little by little developing into something that similarly mimics the look and feel of the natural world. Her pieces don’t seem to exist within a space, but rather grow out of it. The Nature and Wind dragons in the clan particularly enjoy this element, as living underwater in a cave system does tend to take its toll when one is used to the outdoors. Ingrid, for her part, seems rather oblivious to much of this, but she is a gentle enough creature as long as she is well-supplied with treats and head scritches. Otherwise, as long as she can sleep and doesn’t get too terribly wet, she’s fine.
Ipomoea lay in bed, afraid to open her eyes, afraid of what the day would bring.
She was at the inn where it had all started, where Alaric had first given her this assignment. She and Alaric were supposed to meet up here when their respective jobs were done. But Alaric was overdue, about two weeks overdue by Ipomoea’s calculation. She had been staying at the inn waiting for him to show, her anxiety growing into panic as each day came and went and he failed to appear. She knew she would have to give up waiting sooner or later. If Alaric did turn up, the innkeeper would be able to tell him Ipomoea had gone home. But leaving without him hurt more than she expected. It felt like giving him up for dead, and she wasn’t ready to do that. Not yet.
Ipomoea sighed and rolled over. She was in denial, and she knew it. Alaric was never late like this. He wasn’t timely, by any means, but he never left her to wait long, either. This delay was decidedly out of character, and it boded ill for him. She knew all of that. She knew she should just go home. He probably WAS dead, after all.
Tears sprang to her eyes at that thought, and she brushed them away angrily. She hated feeling like this. She loved him, she knew that now. And now it was probably too late to tell him. And whose fault would that be? she asked herself angrily. I should have just told him when I had the chance. But no. The job was more important. My feelings could wait. Except they couldn’t. If I never see him again, if I never get to say it to him…
She shook her head to clear her thoughts. She had to get up, had to do something. She had to get her mind off of this subject. She had been beating herself up for the past week at least and it wasn’t like she had anything new to contribute to the internal conversation. She had to get out of her own head for awhile.
She decided to go for a walk. Or rather, another walk. That had been her go to escape for the past few days, after she got tired of the innkeeper’s worried looks and sympathetic smiles. As much as she hated how she felt, she hated how the innkeeper felt about her even more. It made her feel weak and pathetic, and she couldn’t bear it. So she had taken to exploring the area around the inn all day, returning only in time for dinner, although she hardly ate much of it. She mostly picked at it until she deemed it acceptable to go up to her room for the night. Not that she actually slept much either. She mostly tossed and turned, sleep eluding her. And when she did sleep, she was plagued by nightmares. And so she woke every morning a little more weary and worn that she was the day before. It was a meager existence, she knew, but she didn’t have the strength or emotional fortitude for much else.
Ipomoea sighed and finally opened her eyes. The sunlight streamed through the window, and she grimaced as the light stabbed her eyes. Without getting out of bed, she reached over and twitched the curtains shut. The room was still filled with light, but it was more diffuse, more tolerable. Groaning, she practically rolled out of the bed and onto her feet. She trudged over to the dressing table, threw on the clothes she had tossed there the night before, and stared at herself in the mirror.
She looked absolutely haggard and careworn. Her eyes were bleary and the skin beneath them was starting to sag. She had lost weight and her face looked thin, her cheeks somewhat hollow. Her feathers were dull and lifeless, lacking both the vibrance and the shine they normally had. She threw her hood up over her head, hiding her face in shadow. Still unsatisfied, she threw the bedsheet over the mirror for good measure. She knew what was happening to her. She didn’t need a piece of glass to constantly remind her of that fact.
Ipomoea moved to the door, but paused with her hand on the knob. She took a deep breath and tried to steady herself. Despite her fears, she tended toward a sort of blind, foolish hope every time she entered the common room, especially in the mornings. For two weeks, she had carried that hope with her down to breakfast, and for two weeks, her hopes had been dashed. She wouldn’t let it happen again today. She would be in control of herself this morning. She wouldn’t let her emotions be her mistress this time.
Feeling more steady, though no more confident, she walked downstairs. She gave a cursory look around the common room, but there was no sign of Alaric. Despite her best efforts, she felt the disappointment in the back of her mind. She struggled to keep her composure as she moved to her usual table, the same one Alaric and she had taken the first time around.
She didn’t know why she sat at this table every time. It just brought memories that could only give pain at this point. The feel of his arm around her. The warmth of his breath on her neck. The smell of him as she curled up against his side. All the things she had only when she didn’t want them and now would never have again. Being here, at this table, at this inn, was painful. But it also helped her feel close to him, if only for a little while longer. She would have to leave soon, but she wasn’t quite ready to let go.
The innkeeper brought her a bowl of oat porridge seasoned with cinnamon. It smelled lovely and the inn’s cook was quite talented, but she found she had little appetite. After a few small spoonfuls, she pushed the bowl away. The innkeeper, the kindly Snapper from her first visit, saw the motion and her look turned to one of pity and concern. Ipomoea couldn’t stand it and stood so abruptly she knocked the bowl over.
The innkeeper was over in an instant. “Never you mind, my dear. I’ll take care of that,” she said gently, patting Ipomoea’s arm. Ipomoea mumbled her thanks and practically ran from the room, seeking the freedom and solitude of the outdoors.
Picking a direction seemingly at random, Ipomoea began to walk. She had never been particularly fond of walks or of the woods, but today she found herself heading deep into a nearby forest. She had entered this forest once or twice over the past several days, but never very deep. That changed today. She wound deeper and deeper into woods until the trees grew so close together they blocked out much of the light. The forest was quiet here, and the sounds she did hear were odd and alien to her ears. There were animals, as far as she could tell, but they stayed far away out of sight. The only evidence of their existence were the tiny scrabbles of nails on fallen leaves and the shadows that flitted between the branches of the trees. Ipomoea had rarely felt so alone in her life, but it was peaceful somehow.
Ipomoea didn’t know how long she walked, but she felt her legs beginning to ache and her eyelids begin to droop. Her lack of sleep was catching up to her. She began to search for a place to rest. Maybe she would just take a short nap. It would certainly do her some good. She found herself a spot between the trunks of several enormous oak trees. The trees sheltered the little hollow between them, and the ground was covered with a carpet of soft green moss that looked more inviting than her pillow had in some time. She curled up, using her cloak as a blanket, and fell asleep almost instantly.
She could hear his voice. It’s a dream, she thought to herself. Just a dream. And soon it will turn into a nightmare, just like all the ones before. I will see him, but he will not see me. I will call him, but he will not hear me. I will touch him, but he will not feel me. He won’t be there, and I will be alone.
Ipomoea buried her head in her chest and covered her ears, trying to shut out the sound of his voice. Please go away, she thought. You’re not really here.
Except that the voice was getting louder, and as it got louder, it became clear that Alaric really was here. He was alive, and he was here, and he was looking for her.
Ipomoea’s head popped up and her eyes sprang open. It was full dark, and she could hardly see a thing, but she could hear someone nearby stumbling around in the dark.
“Ipomoea?” Alaric called again, his voice quite loud now. He was close.
“Alaric?” came Ipomoea’s response. Her voice was cracked and softer than she meant it. She was surprised by this, until she remembered that she had barely spoken in days. She cleared her throat and tried again.
“ALARIC?” she called, louder and clearer this time.
The rustling in the underbrush stilled for a moment. “Ipomoea?” Alaric called again.
“Alaric? It’s me. I’m here,” Ipomoea called back.
Alaric swore loudly, a distinct note of relief in his voice. He and Ipomoea called back and forth to each other until he had found her hiding place, but he hesitated to join her once he had located her. Instead, he stood awkwardly in a gap between two of the oaks, shifting awkwardly as if wanting to speak but unsure where to begin. Ipomoea wanted to speak, wanted to tell him everything, but she couldn’t. Now that he was really before her, her words all seemed stuck in her throat. She sat in her little hollow utterly silent, waiting for him to speak.
Alaric was similarly tongue-tied. He had returned around lunch time and waited for hours in the common room for her. The innkeeper had told him everything, about Ipomoea’s loss of appetite and her apparent lack of sleep, about her wandering and her listlessness. She had told him that Ipomoea was wasting away with worry over him. Alaric had listened as best he could to the Snapper’s communications, but his mind had been racing the whole time. That Ipomoea was suffering was painful to him. That she was suffering because of him was intolerable. And yet, there was a part of him that hoped her suffering was a sign that she had feelings for him. He told that part of himself to be quiet, but it would not be repressed. Alaric found himself increasingly agitated, and found it hard to sit still. He had spent much of the afternoon pacing the common room, waiting for Ipomoea’s return.
And yet she hadn’t returned. Dinner came and went, and still she was not back. The innkeeper worried that she might have gotten lost or hurt, having ventured into the forest. Alaric became positively panicked at that suggestion and, stopping only to get a general sense of where the innkeeper had last seen Ipomoea heading, had torn off in search of her. He had spent the last two hours calling and stumbling about blindly, and was on the verge of giving up for the night and waiting until the light was better when he had heard Ipomoea answering him.
And now he was here, and she was there, and he couldn’t think of a single thing to say. He wanted to yell and scream about how worried he was and what was she thinking getting herself lost in a forest and why had she wandered off by herself in the first place. He wanted to tell her that he loved her and to never scare him like that again and that he was sorry he was so late and he would never leave her again. He wanted to hold her and kiss her and never let her go. And yet he could bring himself to do none of them. Instead he just stood there staring mutely at her dark shape on the ground.
Finally, mentally shaking himself, he opened his mouth to speak, unsure of what would come out when he did.
“And here I thought morning glories liked full sun,” he started, before stopping and mentally cursing his own stupidity. Of all the things to say at a time like this. Alaric, you are truly an idiot.
Ipomoea started at the sound of his voice, then laughed, full and warm and loud. He really was an idiot sometimes. But it’s why I love him, I guess.
Alaric breathed out slowly, glad that Ipomoea seemed to take the joke well. He eased into the little hollow next to her and sat down.
Ipomoea froze when Alaric brushed her side, her amusement replaced with her other recent feelings. His touch, his weight next to her confirmed finally that he was well and truly alive. The last reserves of her doubt were swept away and her emotions burst forth in tears. She threw herself into his arms, aware that she probably looked crazy from his perspective right now. But she didn’t care. She wrapped her arms around his neck and sobbed into his shoulder. His very warm, very real shoulder.
Alaric was stunned by this turn of events, but he wrapped his arms around Ipomoea and let her cry as long as she needed. He stroked her head and rocked very gently back and forth, doing his best to soothe her. He had wanted to hold her close for a long time now, but this was not exactly the scenario he had pictured. Still, he reveled in her nearness and committed every moment to memory. He didn’t know if he would ever get this chance again.
After some time, Ipomoea’s sobs quieted, and Alaric took the opportunity to speak.
“I’m sorry I’m so late,” he began. “My last target wasn’t where they were supposed to be, and it took me awhile to find them. I came back as quickly as I could, I swear.” Ipomoea didn’t answer, so Alaric added quietly, “I missed you so much.”
Ipomoea pulled back a bit and looked into his eyes. It was hard to see, but she seemed to be searching for something, though she wasn’t even sure what that something was.
“I...I missed you, too,” she replied lamely. It wasn’t at all what she wanted to say, and she kicked herself for it.
“I know,” Alaric replied. “The innkeeper told me you were in a state. I must say, I’m flattered.” He meant that last part as a joke, trying to lighten the mood. But it came out seriously, and Alaric mentally tensed, waiting to see how Ipomoea would take it.
Something about Alaric’s tone, about the way he seemed to understand her plight, loosened Ipomoea’s tongue.
“I love you,” she said in a rush. “I don’t know when it started, but I realized it the day we made our plans for this job. You kissed me, and I wasn’t angry. I should have been angry, but I wasn’t. I would have been angry before, but I wasn’t. And then I just knew. And I should have just told you but the job was coming up and it was so complicated and I just didn’t want to think about it yet. But then you didn’t come back and I was afraid you were dead, and I was so upset that you might have died without knowing, without ever hearing it and I just...I just couldn’t…” Ipomoea trailed off, unable to find the right words.
Alaric sat there stunned, struggling to comprehend both the content and the meaning of Ipomoea words, quick as they were delivered. His ears told him that she had just confessed her feelings to him, but his brain refused to believe it. He must have misheard. She couldn’t possibly…
“Oh please, say something,” Ipomoea begged. “Anything.”
“You...you love me?” Alaric asked tentatively. “Am I hearing this right?”
Ipomoea nodded, then realizing he could probably barely see it, added, “Yes, I do.”
Alaric felt a grin spread across his face. “I have waited so long to hear those words from you. I love you, too, but you probably already knew that.”
They both laughed, and the tension eased out of both of them. Ipomoea reached up a hand and turned Alaric’s face to her own. She kissed him gently on the tip of his nose, his own Nocturne nose. Startled she pulled back. She hadn’t even realized it in the midst of everything else, but he had his own shape, not the Skydancer shape he should have been wearing at the inn.
“You’re you,” she said, then tried again. “You’re in your own form. What about the disguise?”
“Once I was in the forest, I dropped it. It was hard to keep when I was so distracted with worry. There was nobody to see it anyway, except you. And I figured you might like to see a familiar face when I did find you.”
Ipomoea nodded. “Good. Because I want the first time to be with the real you.”
“The first time for what?” Alaric asked cautiously, hoping she meant what he thought she did.
Ipomoea didn’t answer, instead nipping him lightly on the neck, the way he used to do to her, and drawing him down to the moss to lay beside her. “Why don’t we just spend the night here?” she asked coyly.
Alaric felt his heart leap. He leaned in and kissed her deeply. “I think that’s a fine idea,” he whispered softly in her ear.
The innkeeper was frantic the next morning when the couple hadn’t come back. She was just about to send out a search party when she spotted a familiar pair of Skydancers walking out of the shadow of the wood. They seemed no worse for wear, but they had managed to get a notable amount of leaves and moss stuck in their manes and tails, and the missus had more than a few feathers askew. Smiling knowingly to herself, the Snapper slipped back into the building and pretended she hadn’t noticed.
Emma is Josep’s other apprentice woodworker and presents quite the contrast to her fellow apprentice. Where Asa is quiet and serious, Emma is boisterous and energetic. She doesn’t take her work very seriously, either, and Josep is hard-pressed to make her pay attention or do her work. Her age has a bit to do with this, but it is not the only issue.
There is much debate as to whether a Guardian chooses his or her charge, or whether the charge chooses the Guardian. In truth, it is a bit of both, with some dragons actively deciding what they shall take as their charges, and some feeling immense urges to guard particular charges. Emma very squarely falls into the latter category, and additionally felt this urge at a remarkably young age. Guardians typically do not undertake their search for a charge until they reach adulthood, but Emma felt it almost from the moment she hatched. At first it was a bearable pull, but the calling was soon too strong for her to ignore. At that point, there was nothing for it but to leave her home clan and make the journey all alone to her current home. Her charge is the same as Asa and Josep before her.
But therein lies a problem. Where Josep and Asa enjoy their craft, Emma is distinctly less enthusiastic about it. She doesn’t enjoy being in the workshop and doesn’t feel that same spark of creativity and passion for making something from nothing the way they do. And as a result, she slacks off whenever she can, and tends to her work only begrudgingly. The things she makes are not poorly constructed, but they are often rather useless in practice. In fact, she has made a sort of game of it. If she is set a project, she will technically fulfill the requirements, but will strive to make the end result as useless as possible. She was once set the task of making a small box, such as one would keep jewelry in. She made the box, but it was so small that it wouldn’t hold the tiniest gem, much less actual jewelry fit for a dragon. When instructed to remake it larger, she did so, but made the inner dimensions of the larger box just as small as before. The next box was far too large and barely fit in her workshop. And to get each of these products was difficult enough without having to wheedle her into actually working on it. It causes Josep a fair number of headaches, and he would give up training her entirely if she wasn’t so bound to the task. If left to her own devices, she will eventually come back for more work, as the pull of her charge will drag her back. Nobody is particularly happy with the situation, but as it is a rather unprecedented one to all involved, they are at a loss as to a better solution.
Asa is Josep’s apprentice and shares his charge. She is a very serious, studious sort of dragon, and few would ever accuse her of having a sense of humor. She feels very deeply, but is not given to outward displays of emotion. This means that most of her clan mates would not count her as a friend exactly, but she would go to the ends of the earth to keep them safe and comfortable. It’s a curious dynamic, to say the least.
While Josep’s specialty in woodworking is furniture, Asa prefers to spend her time making toys. There’s hardly a hatchling born in Pleiochroma lately that doesn’t have one from her, and most carry these gifts with them when they leave the clan. This penchant for making toys has made her one really truly good friend in the clan, at least. Asa and Catherine are especially close now, an almost natural result of Asa constantly supplying the little ones with new playthings. Catherine, like most of her clan mates, initially didn’t think much of the young Guardian, but she became interested and curious at the apprentice’s sudden interest in toys over more utilitarian items. Catherine began taking pains to get to know Asa, and in doing so formed a deep, abiding friendship with her. It’s not the kind of friendship that is shown in giggling or shared stories or antics. It’s a much more sedate sort of friendship, expressed largely in quiet companionship. But it is no less real for all that, and they each feel secure in the love and support a true friend provides.
Morina and Josep have a very laid back relationship. Morina was single for quite awhile, and not particularly interested in finding another mate after her attempt with Poe. She figured she had enough drama going on with the clan in general being such a mishmash of personalities and opinions. But when Josep came into the clan, she seemed to connect with him instantly. He listened to her vent her various frustrations whenever she needed and offered a shoulder to cry on during the relatively rare but impressive breakdowns she has experienced. He quickly became her rock and he spent more and more time with him as their relationship deepened. She couldn’t say when exactly she fell in love with him because she was well in love before she realized it had happened at all.
Josep, for his part, adores Morina. He has always been impressed with the amount of responsibility she takes on and the level of organizational efficiency in the clan. And it didn’t escape his notice that, for all its various faults and flaws, the clan in general does still show respect to its matriarch, and that this respect seems to hold them together when little else seems to. He thinks Morina is incredibly strong of spirit and he knows how deep her emotions go, and how fiercely she can love, and he admired and respected her for all of that before those feelings were augmented and amplified by genuine love and affection.
They are not the kind of couple that seems to have that magical spark of passion or sexual attraction. Their relationship is quieter and more relaxed, but it suits their needs and personalities well and it is undeniably a strong bond.
Josep’s familiar is an Anomalous Nekomata he calls Gautr. His choice was pretty straightforward, as familiar selections go. He loves cats, but he is unfortunately also allergic to them. So while he enjoyed playing with the various cats his clan mates keep as familiars, he could never really have one around for very long. When the clan managed to acquire their first nekomata, Josep immediately snapped him up. Gautr didn’t even make it to the stables at all and went straight to Josep’s rooms. If Josep is honest, he does sometimes find the single eye thing a little off-putting, but it’s only rarely, and he finds it a small price to pay.
Josep is the clan’s woodworker. He is an industrious type of dragon, and throws himself wholeheartedly into his work. He is also shy and introverted, so is not often seen in communal spaces. That said, if you get him one on one and ask him about his work or interests, he will talk your ear off, and you will learn more than you ever wanted to know about the subject. And while he is uncomfortable with crowds, he is very loving and close with those he considers his friends and close family, and is always willing to help and care for them. He is generally very placid, and difficult to rouse, but once angered, he is a ferocious fighter and difficult to placate. It is generally considered not worth arguing with him because the fight is generally more costly than the point of contention. And Josep will often simply forget the point soon enough anyway, though it is unclear whether this is out of a desire to keep the peace or actual forgetfulness.
Being a Guardian, Josep has a charge to care for. Unlike most Guardians, however, whose charges are physical entities, Josep’s charge is an idea. His charge is his talents and techniques of woodworking, techniques that have been handed down from a series of mentors through the ages to him. He protects these methods through practice, and ensures their survival by passing them on to his own apprentices, who will one day carry the techniques as charges of their own.
Vanessa and Eugloss are mates, though calling them that may feel a bit generous. Like Melisandre and Aeron, they aren’t particularly close. Eugloss is busy all the time, and Vanessa can be a bit self-absorbed, so how they came together is anyone’s guess within the clan
As Eugloss and Vanessa are both keenly aware, they fell together purely as a result of numbers. There are very few singles in the clan at any given time, and a dragon actively looking for a partner or mate has few options. Both Eugloss and Vanessa were looking for someone to spend their free nights with. Single life suits the pair just fine, but it has its down sides. And so their relationship began purely out of practicality. As it so happens, they suited each other well physically speaking, and stayed together because they found a rhythm with each other. Vanessa and Eugloss know how to push all the right buttons for the other by now and it would just be work to find a new partner, even if the opportunity arose. And so they continue, mates for all intents and purposes, but with very little apparent emotional connection.
The pair does produce eggs, largely because it suits Vanessa to do so for reasons nobody can fathom, including her, and Eugloss isn’t asked to give any particular input or effort. If given the chance, he wouldn’t immediately choose to be a father, but being a standoffish one that rarely spends time with his hatchlings is close enough for him. He leaves a lot to be desired in the nurturing category, although Vanessa is not entirely a better mother than Eugloss is a father. Catherine does a lot of legwork with their hatchlings to try and produce something akin to well-adjusted dragons, with varying amounts of success.
Vanessa’s familiar is an Duskthicket Bonepicker named Chrysalis. Much like Hizaki, Vanessa chose her familiar for its looks and how well it coordinated with her own colors. But unlike Hizaki, whose familiar took awhile to warm up to her, Vanessa seems to have earned Chrysalis’ affections pretty quickly, though nobody can seem to figure out how. Chrysalis is a fiercely independent creature and doesn’t like very many dragons in the lair. Tilney figures that Vanessa was simply inclined to let Chrysalis have her space and didn’t push the relationship too hard. That and a careful application of treats and time spent outdoors is his best guess for what worked. And he’s probably right in that opinion, though only Vanessa and Chrysalis know for sure. And Vanessa likes the little bit of mystery this turn of events gives her character, so it’s unlikely she will be talking any time soon.
Vanessa is the head insect catcher for Clan Pleiochroma. She is skilled at her job, and enjoys it well enough, but this is not what makes her stand out. Vanessa is notably focused on her looks, and can be more than a little conceited about them. This can make her off-putting and distasteful to many of her clan mates. But Vanessa is also very proud of her clan and her vanity extends to the rest of her clan mates as well as to herself. And she takes every opportunity to remind those around her of their own attractions, physical and otherwise. She spends time building up those around her rather than tearing them down to make herself feel better. When her clan feels good about themselves, she feels good about herself, and she preens under compliments to them almost as much as to herself. So while it can be difficult to listen to her holding forth about her own merits, having her around has decided benefits for the clan. It is this reason that makes her so useful within the clan. The fact that she keeps the pantry well stocked with bugs is just a nice bonus.
To anyone unfamiliar with Benedick and Beatrice, it would come as a shock that they are not only mates, but happily so. The pair of them are nearly constantly going at each other, making sarcastic quips and snarking. To strangers, they generally appear to not like each other very much, despite this being the furthest thing from the truth. To those who know better, however, the banter has a decidedly loving quality.
In truth, both Benedick and Beatrice enjoy the sort of exercise of their minds that such spats represent, and they both go out of their way to find interesting new turns of phrase or allusions to literature and art with which to confuse the other and disrupt the stream of thought. And very often, they will seek out new books, music, or paintings to experience together, at least partly for this reason, which means they are also frequently going on dates and spending time together. And there are strict rules for their verbal sparring, such as never bringing up certain topics that are actually hurtful or painful to one or the other. The pair have a constant and continuous awareness of and respect for each other’s boundaries, which makes them one of the healthiest relationships in the clan. And while their banter can be platonic, it is often a form of foreplay for the pair of them, and the constant evolution of their exchanges keeps their intimate life new and fresh as well.
Benedick and Beatrice are an odd pair, to say the least, but they keep life interesting for themselves and for the rest of their crew and clan.
It is difficult to say whether Benedick chose his Brilliant Psywurm, Claudio, on his own, or whether Tilney made the match for him. Perhaps the truth is a bit of both. Benedick wanted a useful familiar, but wasn’t entirely sure what would best suit him. Tilney knew Benedick to be exceedingly clever and thought perhaps Benedick might be able to handle the Psywurm, which is no easy task. Claudio, like all of his kind, has a photographic memory, and it can cause problems for caretakers. Playtime has to change frequently because Claudio gets bored of the same routine, which he of course recalls in exacting detail. And any tricks one might employ to administer medicine or coerce the Psywurm to a doctor pretty much only work once. Games based on trickery also tend to fail after the first instance. So Claudio’s owners must be prepared to be constantly devising new routines and patterns for him. It’s no easy task.
On the other hand, training Claudio is a breeze, as he learns and recalls commands very well. And he is generally eager to please his caretakers. Benedick has trained him to alert to dangerous situations. If, for instance, they were being followed by a particular dragon or another aircraft, Claudio’s impeccable memory would usually mean he would notice it more readily than the dragon members of the crew. He has been trained to alert Benedick of such details, so that Benedick can keep an eye on the situation. Often, Claudio’s alerts turn out to be harmless. Occasionally, they are not. Claudio has saved the crew more than once in this way. He keeps Benedick on his toes caring for him, but he rather earns his keep in the process, which is just what Benedick was hoping for.
Benedick is the Kittiwake’s weapons master. He, like Beatrice, is quite clever, but he is more naturally given to humor. He is rarely ever serious, even and especially in times where his skills are required. This tends to unnerve others, but it is what helps keep him calm and level-headed in times of crisis. His penchant for jokes, however, can often take the form of sarcasm and satire, and is not always received as humor. This can get him into trouble more than he or his crew would like, and he is frequently left to guard the ship when the others disembark. Otherwise, he would often find himself in an unintentional fight with those who don’t know him well enough to catch his meaning right away. He could, of course, hold his own in such times, for he is a proficient fighter, but it’s really better for everyone involved if he didn’t always have to. Malcolm is tired of paying for broken chairs, tables, windows, and heads. And it’s no difference to Benedick if he stays behind, because it gives him time and space to run drills in peace. He likes to keep in top form, because, while he is rarely called on to earn his keep, he wants to make sure that he does earn it when the time comes. And so far, he has never failed his crew mates or his captain in that endeavor.
Eugloss has a Chalcedony Snipper named Orchid as his familiar. He isn’t particularly interested in having a familiar at all, being much to occupied with his work and family to devote much thought to a pet. But Kannon was worried that Eugloss would work himself to death if he didn’t take more time to relax, and conspired with Tilney to more or less force the Fae to adopt a familiar of some kind or other. They basically hounded and harassed him about it until he relented, although he didn’t fail to point out that this was causing him more stress, not less.
In the end, Eugloss looked for a pet that was clean, that didn’t shed, and that didn’t have much in the way of energy requirements, special diets, or attention from him. A Chalcedony Snipper seemed to answer those requirements nicely, and thus came Orchid.
To be honest, Eugloss is not a particularly good pet parent, even with Orchid needing very little special attention. Eugloss could do more than he does to see to Orchid’s needs. He is dismissive of the crayfish and restrictive of her movements, lest she disrupt his system or get in the way of his duties. Orchid isn’t all that amazingly happy and would probably prefer going back to the stables and Tilney’s attentiveness. But Eugloss does just enough in public that Tilney doesn’t see or suspect that. And with Orchid unable to speak up for herself, she isn’t likely to rat Eugloss out any time soon. Eugloss would send her back if he thought Tilney and Kannon would just foist another hapless creature on him, and so he keeps her largely out of a sense of self-preservation.
Needless to say, having a pet isn’t helping him relax or destress, not that he felt he needed either to begin with.
