Majel, Majel, Majel. With a classy-dame name like that, how could we let you go? He may not be the Columbo of dragons, your Dyxath, but he’s still a keeper, drawn from a twenty-fourth century homage to the progenitors of detective fiction. He’s a little Dixon Hill, a little Phillip Marlowe, a touch of ACME gumshoe and a splash of a Rockapella backbeat, but entirely, unequivocally Dyxath, and entirely yours. We loved making him, and we hope you’ll have just as much fun playing him. — SearchCo

Where In the World Is This Egg?

Red, red, all red, but for a thin band of black circling the top of this long egg. The shell bulges suspiciously in various places - pockets that could be filled with worldly treasures. Under its red cap, two white eyes peer out smugly from the deep of black, a mysterious identity that could be hiding anywhere.

I loved Where in the World is Carmen Sandiego? I was pretty sure I could have done well on that show, and Chief was always inspiring me. I have always missed her stern demeanor, even if she's talking about a fictional character pulling off heists as ridiculous as stealing the Eiffel Tower. — Mayte

Hatching Message

Where in the World is This Egg seems to have…a few more bulges all of a sudden? It certainly looks a little more suspicious than normal - oh. Oh yes, there’s another…and another… This ruddy ovoid is through being still, twitching, twitching, twitching as bulges grow and cracks strain scarlet threads and bug out those white eyes to comical proportions. Suddenly, it all unravels in one great spiraling split, azure angles dark and sharp breaking through to open air. Soon enough, unwieldy wings are flicking goo from a blatantly boxy blue frame, crimson confines strewn in shambles around the chiaroscuro newcomer they once contained.

Acapella ACME Agent Blue Dragonet

The rumpled drape of trenchcoat wings wearily wraps the seamless structure of this creature of contrast, this blue's blue, this rough-edged midnight marvel marked by the fog of a different age. Self-possessed are the shadows cast down cigar-chewing snout by cannily-canted eyeridges, all the better to ill-obscure a canvassing gaze leveled by narrowed eyes. Lean-limbed but for the boxy bulk of serviceable shoulders, his cloth is cut a little too-long through the frame, though he's as far from gawky as sharp-angled headknobs are to the sprawling length of his tail. He's seen it all, this midnight-blue, and wears such jaded experience as well as he does the subtlety of pinstripe patterning, all but obscured beneath the washed-out illumination of weatherbeaten wings.

Public Impression Pose

Acapella ACME Agent Blue Dragonet pauses… Ahh, there she is - right over here! A likely clump of potential cohorts is zeroed in on, and off goes Acapella ACME Agent Blue Dragonet, all self-assured and swaggering juuuuust a little…which isn’t working so well with those big bloody wings; what do you do with these things, anyway? So every gawky motion and befuddled squawk seems to question as he continues onward. Maybe if he just flaps a little he’ll get it figure- nope. Noooope, that just messes with the balance, and down goes a midnight blue nose into the dirt as a wing fouls on a back foot - right in front of the slim, hazel-eyed tailor woman - his mark, for all his bumbling didn’t help to make it obvious. A crimson gaze turns up to her forlornly with a disgruntled grumble muffled in the sand. Hi. Give a guy a hand?

Private Impression Pose

Shadows sharpen and light reddens, then fades to the white of passing glows in the darkness as the world around you dims. Fog softens stark streams of illumination shedding light on dark, damp streets, and then you hear it - a full, warm chord hummed by rich voices, glowing with gladness as it resounds through hidden alleys into the open air and weaves joyous harmony throughout your thoughts. A deep, gravelly voice laughs appreciatively. « Hey there, Majel. The name’s Dyxath. Glad you could join me. » Melodious humming gives way to a subtle, jaunty beat, fit for a brisk walk. « Let’s get going! We’ve got a lot to figure out, here. » A note of question sounds, reverberating slightly in a curious pause. « By the way…got anything to eat? No good workin’ a case on an empty stomach. »

You wanted someone to investigate with? You got him. Majel, meet your Dyxath!

Theme Inspiration

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We played a little fast and loose with the theme, but we are sure you’ll forgive us for it. In your app you mentioned Where In the World is Carmen Sandiego?, and even though that show ended before the 2000’s rolled up, there was a particular piece that stayed right in place - that rather iconic acapella group, Rockapella. Your Dyxath’s mindvoice pulls heavily from these almost Jamacian jammers, as well as a lot of his rather laid back attitude towards the things around him.

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We also drew inspiration from a few other sources. Your idea for a dragon based on Lt. Columbo had us spinning off in other directions towards the trope of the 40’s noir era detectives, then onward and outward till we settled on Dixon Hill from Star Trek the Next Generation. I mean, if you do the math, it makes sense. TNG was filmed during the 80’s and 90’s, Philip Marlowe (the inspiration behind Dixon Hill) was from the 40’s and TNG’s actual setting is the 2360s. If you play with the numbers enough (and maybe cross your eyes) that comes out to the correct era anyway. Well, at least, that’s what we’re going to go by.

Mindvoice

“Under the thinning fog the surf curled and creamed, almost without sound, like a thought trying to form itself on the edge of consciousness.”

― Raymond Chandler, The Big Sleep


Almost pure blackness fills the city that is the mindscape of Dyxath. There will only ever be so far that you can see as light will be at a premium. But even though you cannot always see what is there, you will be able to feel it. There is a sense of weight that presses around you, as if you walk down an alleyway when you step into the blackness. Points of light will slowly make themselves known, casting spots of brightness to fade into the palest of grays as they twine about the black landscape. There is a sense of things hidden here, of mysteries that are just waiting to be explored. The alleyways never seem to end, but the details become more complex, even as the darkness of black doesn’t fade. You’ll come to recognize an ever present odor in the air - the finest of cigarette smoke mingled with the dark humidity of ocean.

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If you pause along this walk, you’ll come to notice the windows that sit shuttered. Pale light filters out, but not enough to allow you to see what is going on. Instead, there is a sense of movement behind the shutters. Shadows will appear and disappear, leaving mysteries as to the activities which create that movement. Push too close to those windows and Dyxath will gently steer you away, because some secrets are made to say within their shutters. He will allow you to pause, though, and listen to the rustle of movement within, perhaps the just-too-quiet to be heard murmur of voices.

Listen closely though, Majel, for something tells you that these dank streets are far from the dangerous pits the darkness and secrets suggest. For as you walk, or run, or perhaps even skip along the stone ways you’ll be accompanied by music. It will vary, what music is playing, depending on how your Dyxath is feeling. Anger? Expect some rather angry and heavy music that pushes the tempo and curls low in the register. Happiness? A lighter and higher pitched tone, with almost a beatbox accompaniment which will set your toes to tapping. It’ll be like no music you’ve ever heard before Majel, for it, like the colorless black and white of his ‘scape, are missing a key component. You’ll never hear an instrument sing out in Dyxath’s music. Rather, the purest of acapella plays under his blackness.

mind2.jpg


Maybe one day you’ll actually meet those elusive singers. Walking down the alley, you’ll pass a streetlight with them gathered beneath, their rich voices singing the song of Dyxath’s heart.

More than a simple undertone though, these voices provide emphasis…say, in a mystery that is tugging deeply,

Smoke curls upwards, breaking through the light and scattering it again before any details can be exposed beyond the broadest curve of a corner. « Majel. » Slowly the music changes, turning darker, a dun-DUN, dun-DUN, dun-DUN, almost like a heartbeat picking up. « I think we found something. »

« Majel. » A pause in the music, which casts utter silence over the whole of the dark scape, plunging it into darkness as the light above shatters in a bright shower of glass. « I know who did it. »


Or in excitement, when he realizes that a goal he has pushed towards is finally about to be met.

Light flares above, white zinging through the darkness to make the puffs of smoke visible to the naked eye, the fog refracting it in every direction without ever causing the darkness to actually fade. The tempo picks up, sending the smoke dancing in increasingly intricate patterns. « Accomplished! »

mind3.jpg mind4.jpg


When colour does occur in the mindscape, Majel, pay attention, because it is something Dyxath really wants you to know. Those white streetlights, dulled by smoke and fog, will shift their hues, slowly taking on a red tinge to highlight the details which he finds important. The object itself - a book, a knife, a discarded lid of a trashcan, perhaps a suspicious character - may not make sense right away, but you will always find that it holds special meaning if only you focus on it long enough to parse out what Dyxath expects you to understand. As you piece together the clues he leaves for you the colour will fade again, the black drifting back in and the lights shifting back to their pale, washed out white.

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And when he speaks? A dark gravely voice will ring out, reminiscent of Peter Falk, the inimitable Lt. Columbo . It will not be the most comfortable voice to listen to. It will demand your attention as the words roll into the minds of others, the slight catch in his tone causing them to pause and to pay more attention to the shifting grays which underly the monochromatic scenery.

Personality

From the beginning, your Dyxath is going to stand out a bit from the rest of his clutch sibs. Where Rhiscorath is bound by rules and order, Dyxath is relaxed. Where Tseylath upholds duty and honor, Dyxath is more willing to see gray in everything. He lacks Inayalinaeth’s sense of the world, and where Faenwyth’s moral compass tends to spin, Dyxath’s points straight north. Dyxath is a smooth talking, smart-alec detective who has a firm sense of who he is, and who he wants you to be.

Vivian: Do you always think you can handle people like, uh, trained seals?

Philip Marlowe: Uh-huh. I usually get away with it too.

- The Big Sleep


See, Dyxath thinks he is smart. He’ll come out of the egg with perfect self assurance in his own intelligence. He won’t lord it over his clutch mates, but his flippant responses to them will make it clear that he thinks he knows better, even more than Rhiscorath - at least until she finds some way to put him firmly in his place again. He might even remember the shut down for later…though don’t hold your breath.

Sarcasm will also be a mainstay for your Dyxath. Ask him a stupid question, and he’s going to give you a flippant response.

« How do you like your wherry, Dyxath? »

« Dead. »

Lindsay Marriott: I'm afraid I don't like your manner.

Philip Marlowe: Yeah, I've had complaints about it, but it keeps getting worse.

- Murder My Sweet


And sadly, this isn’t reserved just for you, Majel. You are going to have to work with Dyxath to survive weyrlinghood and the demands that the weyrling staff is going to put on you both. Not to say that he is going to have any particular trouble learning what he needs to learn, but he will make trouble for the both of you by saying exactly what he thinks. When he thinks that others are not acting the way that they should, he will have zero problem raising the metaphorical eyebrow at them and smarting off about it. Maybe as he grows older he will become more adept at keeping his slick comments to himself (or at least, to you), but again, don’t hold your breath.

Things making sense is important for Dyxath. He does not take very easily to the illogical. He has a tendency to obsess about things which others would eventually let go while trying to make meaning out of them. Anything he sees out of place will pull him to an abrupt stop in whatever he is doing, even if it happens to be something as complex as breathing flame. And when he has a mystery between his teeth? He isn’t going to let it go easily, even if the rewards for solving that mystery are just about nonexistent, because it isn’t the physical reward which is important to Dyxath - it is the satisfaction of knowing.

If there isn’t a mystery for him to get involved in, be prepared for Dyxath to come up with his own, or follow around another dragon he has deemed as suspicious. More often than not this will be Faenwyth, as he’ll learn quickly enough that she tends to get into trouble. He’ll even be flexible enough that he’s willing to take on other people’s mysteries. Even though he and Rhiscorath will butt heads on many things, she will also be his favorite employer. His reports to her will be full of detail, and more than enough to fulfill her curiosity.

"'Okay Marlowe,' I said to myself. 'You're a tough guy. You've been sapped twice, choked, beaten silly with a gun, shot in the arm until you're crazy as a couple of waltzing mice. Now let's see you do something really tough - like putting your pants on.'"

- Philip Marlowe, Murder My Sweet

It will be hard to shake Dyxath out of his self-assurance, but sometimes it will happen. Maybe it’s after a rough day in training where all of his sibs catch on to something that just eludes Dyx at the moment. Perhaps it’s during a Threadfall when the silvery menace manages to lash along his skin, or when a mystery hits a complete dead end will be when he hits his low. You’ll find him a dragon who is capable of deep melancholy, though the spells will never last for too long. He’ll shake himself off and push himself back to his feet with firm reminders that he’s got this, just needs a bit more patience.

Mavis Wald: [pulling a gun on Marlowe] Turn around.

Philip Marlowe: If that were a .45, I wouldn't argue. But a .32, I can get in a couple of words.

[Mavis raises the gun higher.]

Philip Marlowe: I've said them all… But don't forget you're a lady.

- from Marlowe


In the face of danger Dyxath is very relaxed, and he will feel the same away about your safety too, Majel. When he discovers how deep the scum in the Bazaar goes, he is going to want to be involved - which means you are going to be involved. One of his favorite pastimes will be sitting up on the cliffs overlooking the dank side-street as you move yourself among the refuse of humanity that the Bazaar can offer. He’ll want you to find secrets and spill them back to him, perhaps even taking action if necessary. He is there as your back-up in places that he cannot go and your partner in places where he can. Even the larger dragons of the Weyr will have a hard time cowing your blue lifemate; he just has too much swagger for that.

In spite of his swagger, your Dyxath also has hidden depths. His moral compass points directly in the way of truth and right. His methods may be a bit unorthodox, but the result of his actions will always result in the best possible outcome (to his own perception), for most people. He cares dearly about the Weyr and its welfare. Anything which threatens it is Dyxath’s business, even if others don’t seem to feel the same way.

Name Inspiration

Under three syllables. Simple. Easy to pronounce. Majel, you stumped us! There were so many different places we could go with. Of course it required a y, as all of your clutchmates managed to get one. Then we decided that somewhere Dixon needed to make an appearance, but did we really want to give you a Dix in your name? Of course not! Thus we began to toss out names, going from complex to simple and back again till suddenly, it appeared. Dyxath. All time stood still as we stared at our collective screens and went “That is it.” It had the Dixon. It had the y. It had the simple. Dyxath it is. We all agreed the pronunciation was just a straightforward “DIKS-ath” (no soft ‘x’ allowed).

Of course, it lends itself to an equally simple, easy nickname, which he won’t mind you using in the least: Dyx. Don’t tell us you’re not going to have fun using that in combination with “watch your caboose!” (Does anyone on Pern know what a caboose is? Oh well. Do it anyway; we won’t tell.)

Description Inspiration

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If you could walk up to a private detective and turn him into a dragon, that would be your Dyxath. Visually, he is heavily drawn from the archetype of a noir detective: all dark shadows spotlit by streetlights, a long and lean body that’s more angles than is good for anyone. We tried to incorporate all the classic accoutrements into his description, without being too literal: there’s a nod to the fedora so often favored by both classic literary detectives and modern adaptations, as well as the trenchcoat that no self-respecting private eye would be seen on the street without.

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As for his coloring — well, this was just a perfect place to find inspiration. It’s got the dark blues that we wanted, as well as the sweeps of light: like a spotlight, like a streetlamp, providing the sharp contrast so important to everyone involved.

Physicalities

Ahhh, Majel. You said you’d treasure our physical imperfections, and we took that and ran with it - not too far, mind, but just enough to bring you a dragon altogether…different from the handsome horde of blues Igen so proudly boasts. Handsome is something that Dyxath is decidedly not. He is, however, what some might call “striking.”

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Have you ever seen an art print of a detective in the noir style, Majel? Or watched a film shot with noir lighting? It is, of course, very dramatic in terms of contrast - stark light and deep shadow to heighten the feel of danger and mystery and the differences between good and evil. There are very few smooth transitions between colors - what few colors there are (and you’ll certainly become familiar enough with that as Dyxath takes you through the dim alleys and glaring streetlights of his mindscape). A lot of the drawn artwork in noir tends to be angular and edgy, further heightening the effect. Add a blue cast to it all and, well…you’ve got your Dyxath!

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Dyx is built of a lot of lean muscle, sinewy and almost over-defined - and angular, like one of those noir prints. He’s going to look a little boxy due to some nice broad shoulders, but he’ll be nicely proportioned otherwise - except for those blasted wings of his. They’ll take some growing into, those unwieldy, rumpled-looking swaths of gabardine-heavy wingsail stretched over rawboned spars. They’ll likely get in the way for a while, tending to drag a bit until Dyxath gets the hang of how to flip them up and fold them just so…and he’ll trip over the dang things sometimes, much to his chagrin (and likely yours). It probably wouldn’t happen so often if he didn’t insist on moving with that subtly self-assured swagger all the time. What brings this on? Probably that propensity of his to think he’s got it all figured out - even from an early age.

« Yeaagh! » There’s a sudden heavy rustling followed by a whump behind you as you round the bend during morning PT drills, and amidst the muted noises of draconic (and some human) chuckling, you whirl about to find Dyxath with his nose in the sand, one wing disentangling itself from a hindquarter.

AWLM: “What’s the problem, Majel?”

You: “Oh, he’s tripped on his wing again.”

« Nah, just thought I’d have another go at trying to make Inaya laugh. » Yes. That will be his excuse for now.


Thankfully, all that awkwardness won’t last forever - even if the swagger does. The extreme tilts and edges to Dyxath’s eye and neck ridges will dull and mellow just a little, as will most of his sharp lines. He’ll finally start to fit into his wings, the weighty length and drape of them finally getting worn in and weathered by workouts and drills and flying - and those things will carry him through the air with a rather uncanny ease by the time you’ve graduated weyrlinghood. Dyx will fill out somewhat with the onset of maturity, but he’ll always have that long, lanky, sharp-edged figure that makes him so distinct from his siblings.

Such an interesting build does interesting things to this fellow’s color, as well. The contrast of darkness to light in noir is in full effect upon his hide; that would be obvious even if Dyx wasn’t an angular dragon. Since he is, all that contrast gets kicked up a notch. Much of him - belly, legs, haunches, tail, the underside of his neck and jaw and that mysterious shadow falling over his face - is swathed in a pure midnight blue that’s nearly black. However, if you look closely, you can just baaaarely make out hints of striping running the length of him - pinstripes, if you like, but who can honestly tell in the shadows?

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Above the oblique lines of those boxy shoulders and honed edges of slim musculature, midnight is made abruptly and starkly bright and pallid, as if a spotlight is beating down on him from above. It glows on each neckridge and on his wingsails when they’re unfurled - and that’s where you’ll find the one spot where the color doesn’t just completely drop away in favor of another. Along the trailing edges, you’ll finding that illuminated blue swirling off into a silvery fog - the only smooth blend from one color to another to be found anywhere on his body.

Thus, the angles of his body serve to deepen the shadows and lay blue bare to the light in equal measure, giving a bit more depth to what’s seen. Even so, Dyxath looks for all the world like a walking piece of noir artwork; it’s almost as if he shouldn’t really be here, in this particular realm of existence. He almost appears to be a part of his mind made flesh.

Oddly, he even smells it. His hide carries the mild scent of wet concrete after a soaking city rain mingled with a hint of sweet smoke from a fine cigar. It’s a scent that evokes…stillness. Waiting. Late nights spent in quiet contemplation between blurs of motion brought on by pursuit of clues and criminals alike. Even after the scent of firestone has been scrubbed and washed away in the aftermath of a Fall, this remains. You may not know how to identify it, seeing as there isn’t anything quite like the source on Pern…but it may still come to be a comforting assurance of the presence of your lifemate all the same.

Thread

An alarm sounds, high pitched, roaring into your mind, breaking through the gray smoke, illuminating it in pale white.

« Move Majel! Thread falls! »


That is right, Majel: Dyxath is a fighting dragon. He knows he was born into this world to protect it from the terror in the sky. He is always on alert for the faintest of signs that Thread might just be falling. Sometimes…maybe just a little too aware.

» Dyxath. Thread doesn't fall in Igen today. «

« Of course it does! I can hear the dragons talking! »

» … High Reaches. Not Igen. Go back to sleep. «


Yes, alas, Dyxath will sound his alarm for Every. Single. Fall. If even a whisper reaches his mind that Thread is on the horizon he will wish you to up and at it. He may grow more wise as the years toil on about which Falls he should be concerned about, but for those first years of active duty you may find yourself rousted out of bed in the middle of the night, halfway dressed for Fall before you realize that it’s happening halfway around Pern from where you are. This sensitivity may make him an asset though, especially when Thread falls irregularity. His intuition could be just the ticket to saving lives.

“I'm all done with hating you. It's all washed out of me. I hate people hard, but I don't hate them very long.”

― Raymond Chandler, The Lady in the Lake


Despite his willingness to fight, Dyxath has no particular hatred for Thread. It is a reality of his life, just like the reality that mysteries exist and must be solved. He will throw himself into the Fall with all the caution it requires, because that is his responsibility. It does not occur to him, not at first, that he may be hurt during Threadfall, though afterwards he will sit back and reflect that perhaps there were ways he could have done that better. Maybe it is this less than antagonistic mindset which will fuel his flame.

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While his brother Tseylath flames Thread with devastating precision, Dyxath’s style is more like the wild rumble of the streets. Why bother being precise? Rather, he’ll spread his flame out in wide swatches. Be careful with where you allow him in the formation, or there could easily be some singed tails. When one of his more precise clutch sibs calls him to task for his laziness, Dyxath will not care one whit. It works, doesn’t it?

In the air, when faced with the reality of burning Thread, Dyxath will bring his natural intuitive senses to bear, especially when Falls are irregular. Thread that would catch another dragon unaware by falling to the left rather than the right will not confuse Dyxath. He’ll take the cues from the air: shifting breezes, moisture content, wing formations, flame size, and narrow down exactly what those shifting lines of terror will do before him. Trouble will befall Dyxath more when Thread is regular, for he will be looking for a deeper, more complex system to make itself known, and will sometimes miss the obvious clump which will be heading right towards him, and you.

Flights

Dyxath is a busy dragon, Majel; you’ll learn this rather quickly. There’s always someone to look in on, something new to learn, intel to be gathered and, of course, someone has to keep constant tabs on the Thread situation. So it may not surprise you that when it comes to flights, your methodical blue just doesn’t seem to have the time. In light of everything else that demands his attention, he really doesn’t care for them all that much! At least, he won’t at first.

That’s not to say he isn’t interested in the greens per se. On the contrary, it’s a little hard not to notice a beautiful dame, and he’ll be quick enough to look. He’ll even talk up how well he’d do in the chase…but he’s picky. You see, with how observant he is, with how well he can read into other dragons, he’ll know when a lovely lady is using her looks alone to grab his attention - and perhaps trying to wheedle something more out of him than he’s inclined to give. No femme fatales will be fooling this P.I., thanks!

» But Dyx, I thought you said she was ‘classy.’ «

« Well, from thirty dragonlengths away she looked like a lot of class. From ten dragonlengths away she looked like something made up to be seen from thirty dragonlengths away. »


Flights are one area in which Dyxath embodies a bit of an ACME agent. Sure, ACME trains and gathers intel and travels and investigates with the purpose of shutting down V.I.L.E., but they’ve got their prime goal, their biggest catch - and that’s the woman herself, Carmen Sandiego. Any major players caught along the way are just bonuses - opportunities to gather insight which will make nabbing the main target easier (in theory, at least).

“Tall, aren't you?" she said.

"I didn't mean to be."

Her eyes rounded. She was puzzled. She was thinking. I could see, even on that short acquaintance, that thinking was always going to be a bother to her.”

― Raymond Chandler, The Big Sleep

In this same way, Dyxath will come to know exactly what he wants in The One. It’ll be a process, getting the specific outline for his ideal green just so, and he’ll only have basic facts and training to start out with. For instance, he’ll know that he isn’t after looks; those are too often used to get something else, see.

“She lowered her lashes until they almost cuddled her cheeks and slowly raised them again, like a theatre curtain. I was to get to know that trick. That was supposed to make me roll over on my back with all four paws in the air.”

- Philip Marlowe, The Big Sleep


He’ll also know that he’s got no time for manipulative - and he can thank Faenwyth for that, since he’ll identify it as her MO fairly early on. However, he won’t really pick up on more than a few facts at a time; real personalities get overridden by instinct in the moment, and when someone starts glowing, he’ll get as distracted by it as the next guy. What Dyxath will know during those times is that he has a pool of candidates he’s narrowed down based on what he isn’t looking for, and if she isn’t in that pool, he ain’t chasin’. If she is, then he’ll sit there deliberating about whether or not this is the right time to fly - and his indecision may drive you up the wall, quite frankly. Only when he’s absolutely sure he’s ready to make his move will he step from the shadows and pursue.

If he loses, it’s absolutely no big deal; he’ll shrug it off and move on fairly quickly, which will likely be a relief for you, Majel. If he wins, there won’t be any dramatic surge of dragonlust - his will be a cool, quiet spike of victory in a roll of deep laughter and a smug, lingering grin, and he’ll savor that, patiently puffing a cigar afterward until the lady’s ready to talk. And he will be one for pillow talk; that’s one of the best ways to get intel, after all. During those times, he’ll begin digging for more facts, learning what he does and doesn’t like about this green and saving it all up for later. Those things learned, he’ll narrow down his pool even further, and so begins the process all over again.

Eventually, Dyxath will have so much on all of Igen’s greens that he’ll finally decide who The One for him is. Once he’s got her in his sights, that’s it - she’ll be the one he chases consistently, the one he does get bent out of shape over failing to catch, and the one he will truly let himself enjoy and relax with when he wins. It’ll be the longest, most detailed case he’ll ever work, finding that lone, unique green - but when he finally zeroes in on her, he’ll get about as attached as one dragon can to another.

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But even after that time does come, Majel, Dyxath won’t be distracted from you for very long - no, ma’am! In the end, there’s only ever one woman that can even get close to tying a good detective down, and for Dyxath, that is unequivocally, unquestionably you.

Majel, Dyxath is yours. The ideas above are our crazy imaginations, take him and make him your own!

Credits

Name: Teyaschianniarina
Egg Desc: Mayte; Kyara tweak
Dragonet Desc: Teyaschianniarina, Kyara; K’ane tweak
Messages: Kyara, Teyaschianniarina
Puppeteer: Kyara
Inspiration: Kyara, K’vvan, Teyaschianniarina

Clutchmates: Mayte’s gold Rhiscorath, C'sei (Alecsei)'s green Faenwyth, Selaine's green Akitith, Tasna (Tasena)'s brown Tseylath, Yukie's green Inayalinaeth, A'sh (Aveshin)'s blue Tokath

Harper's Tale's 67th PC Clutch
Igen Weyr's 2nd PC Clutch
Tuli's gold Elicheritath and El'ai's bronze Sekhaenkath
March 28th, 2014