Sissi's Spangled Emilie-Blue Klimth

Overpaint Egg
Oh, it all seems smooth enough, steady enough, almost wallflowerishly easy
with its neighbors: its face is just a wash of taupe that drifts without
demand into the ho-hum white of an overcast sky, with a sweet, grass-green
pleasantry summing up an end. Perhaps in brighter light, that zipper of a
scar might show; the stubble, the bumps, the rough scrape underpinning
thin neutrality; there's what's on the surface — and then there's how it

Overpaint Egg unzips, the silent scar splitting near-soundlessly in all
furor of the sands; at the end, pleasantries peel away in grass-green
like so much Astroturf about a wet and wing-scraped dragonet.

Spangled Emilie-Blue Klimth
Blunt of mind and motion he may be, but sheer opulence glitters in every
outer facet of that cobalt-spangled dragonet, even down to the acute
curve of
polished talons. That fabulous blue strokes decadence itself along his
svelte bones, all a-flicker with grace notes of iridescent magentas and
teals; they deepen into purple at neckridges' peaks and just there, at
the tip
of his spine where the tail-tip flares. Genteel green gloves the narrow
bones of wingspars and distinguishes understated headknobs, but it's a
midnight that swirls wild applique along his throat and the hidden

Does he overwhelm you with all his glitter and glam, even egg-damp as he
Those wings — that hide, that's a galaxy beyond the black of the sand,
beside which all the other dragons tarnish — but then there are those
equally fabulous but with iron behind them. Before them. For you.
you; and as his mind finds yours, the iron gains a taste that's less rust
your own heart's blood. Decision is immediate, irrevocable, in the now
in the long ago:

» My name is Klimth! «

  • Why this egg?

A shell, you said, covering something inside, which is what an egg should
And maybe there's something hiding inside you that gets glossed over by a

plain and slightly bumbly exterior, something as deliciously conspicuous
this young dragon who's revealed himself in all his glory to you. …And
not — or even if it's rarely shown — well, hey, we like you the way you

(See the end of this inspiration for more info about the egg as egg.)

  • Why this name?

Klimth, named for Gustav Klimt, the Viennese artist who lived and worked
those last luxurious years before the Great War changed everything, and
did not apologize for the lush (even erotic) passion of his work.. and
also claimed the right to be exactly who he wanted to be — when he was
home. As for Empress Elisabeth — Sissy — well, it's a match that could
happen here.

  • Background:

Klimth's appearance is based on Gustav Klimt's 1902 painting of his
Emilie Floege. Though he painted her many times, this painting, the one
this to-die-for dress in a blue our weavers can only weep over, but never

achieve, marked a turning point in his career. Still. Emilie Floege may
modeled for Klimt, who, by the way, was also her brother-in-law, but she
owned a dressmaker's shop and worked for a living. The relationship was
mutually beneficial: Klimt designed dresses for her shop; she modeled
them for
his paintings.

Look! «,http://www.magmacom.com/~alexxi/klimt/images/paint/klimt034.jpg

Physical description

To put it bluntly, Klimth is gorgeous. Classically proportioned, all his

bits go together pretty much as they ought — there's no oversized feet
too-skinny limbs; his tail's not crooked and his belly's not dragging on
ground behind him. His head, too, bears symmetrical features, and the
of him is wrapped up in the decadently rich, spangled cobalt of that
hide. Face it, he's handsome.

Some may tend to overlook him because of that sparkly exterior. Not
him, precisely, since he's so hard to miss; but pigeonhole him,
But the old myth that 'handsome men can't have personalities' doesn't
apply to
Klimth. He'll be underestimated rather often — by humans and dragons
unfortunately — but that might be handy for you, and indeed, he takes
in his stride. He's clever enough and /blunt/ enough to ensure that most

individuals won't make the same mistake twice. Or at least not three

As for specifics on his color: his sire has glittery blue talons, and
if a little is good, maybe more's better. The cobalt is luminous, deeper
Yolinth's, flickering here and there with iridescent magentas and teal
deepen into purple at the tips of his neckridges and tail; it's a smidge
subtler than peacock Fiorath — for good or ill — and his conformation
less pointy, too. Green strokes his wingspars and headknobs, not too
more of one of those classic Jaguar convertible's… but then there are
deep, deep blue swirls and whorls that, again akin to Kolyath's but a
more privately displayed than the bronze's wings, touch the sensitive
of his throat and the hidden shadows of his underbelly. Not many will
those last; shadow will hide them in flight, and he's only apt to wriggle

belly-up for /you/.

He's on the small side for a blue; not tiny, but certainly smallish.
be aware of that, too, once he gains his full size and his brother-blues
growing on past him. You might even catch him trying to fix that —
stretching his neck and tail out as far as they'll go in the futile
attempt to
make them longer. So he's a wee bit touchy on the subject.

One might expect that smaller size to give him an edge in aerobatics, but

twisting and diving in crazy curliques and loop-de-loops isn't really
style. He's more an A to B man. Oh, he can do the fancy stuff if he
has to — when chasing a particularly nimble green, or in mock threadfall

competitions, say — which surprises him, though he'll try not to let on.

Your Klimth will likely have an awkward adolescence — there's that joint

awkwardness that you two share, and does Zaireth want to pinch his
cheeks, as
it were? — but with you, he just might find acceptance even so. His
will retain that vibrance well into and past maturity; old age might see
fading, but it wears well. Now, his headknobs' green may eventually
more pronounced, like a dark-haired man who silvers at the temples. With
looks, he'll have to gain something of a sense of humor, maybe a bit
self-deprecating. You've got that; you can help him. And he'll help
you, at
least when he's not goofing up too!

Personality, relationship with Sissy

Klimth thinks like he flies: from A to B, with no stops between. He says

what he thinks and thinks what he says, and if it all comes out a bit too

bluntly, well so be it. In a way, what you see is more than what you get

he looks a lot fancier than he is, inside. Which is not to say that he's
lesser creature for his less-complicated nature; Klimth has the knack of
cutting through all the extraneous (to his mind) detail and distilling
matter into its core truths. Anyone have a Gordian knot about?

All of which gives him a tendency to see things very much in Black or
and very little allowed to exist in the grey area between. His morality
— if
that's what it is — would never be recognised by any Holder, however;
all of his own making, and he makes it up as he goes along. He'll see
as having a very White hat stuck firmly on his head — which may set him
natural opposition to some of the more roguish pairs about. Woe betide
dragonet that, ah, takes a dump in /his/ territory! He's not a goody
two-shoes, though; he has no qualms about bending some of the rules
himself —
it's just that he wouldn't bend them unless there was Good Reason to, and

more than just personal advancement, …of course, as below, it's
and instinct rather than abstract logic, and your beliefs about what
counts as
rules will most certainly, if somewhat subliminally, affect his. O-:)

See, once he's thought to make up his mind, he's quite opinionated on
matters. (His maternal line's strength of character?) He's not
incapable of
changing his mind on any given subject; it's just that he wouldn't be
inclined to do so very often. Still, give him a reason to re-evaluate
he'll listen. He may well stick to his original suppositions — he
will. (His memory is typically draconic, not that great, but he does
a touch more than his sire.) But there will be the odd time, too, when
someone — most likely you, Sissy — will open him up to a new way of
at things. You change him; he changes you: often meeting… but not
mirrored; where's the fun in that?

Since Klimth is much more intuitive than logically-minded, deductive
reasoning — however brilliant — won't impress him so much as a
intuitive approach. Don't explain the mechanics of clouds and rainfall
if you
want to get inside before that storm hits; just "Feels like a storm's
brewing," will convince him far faster. He trusts his hunches; he'll

If he ever should get philosophical, maybe on a lazy summer's day…
muse over that appearance/reality dichotomy. Why did he come from an egg
a plain outside hinting at a complex inside, and turn out to be a flashy
outside with a straightforward inside? (Handy, your memory, to take care
such things.) Who out there is like him, in that way? Or who's plain
with a fancy inside? Hey, Sissy, what about you? You're the same inside
outside — or are you? And masks, the whole concept of masks would just
fascinate him. Not just physical masks. Pretending. He's not one for
even as dragons go, but ah, stories. What if. He'll welcome that in you.

He's not a chatty dragon in love with the taste of his own thoughts,
he's also, well, /anything/ but shy and subdued. A good joke, that's
something. Flowery conversation — yawn. /You/ can do that, if you
like, but
give /him/ the meat of the issue. Klimth's opinionated tendencies don't
extend to every topic of discussion under the two moons (imagine that!),
he'll not be inclined to stick his two marks into /every/ conversation
comes past him… a thirty-second, though, perhaps. But there will be a
subjects close to his heart; mention one of these 'pet topics' near him,
it's like opening a floodgate. You're one of them, and so is
Acquisition. Are
you materialistic? He is. And that's just the beginning.

Klimth is always on the go as well; to be honest, he's a wee bit nosy.
Not a
busy-body, because he doesn't interfere (of course, if he tells you and
interfere, well, can't help that, can he?), but if something's happening
nearby, he has to go and find out what. If he needs an excuse, he'll
invent an
errand, or volunteer you for one. He may wear you out in the early days,

keeping up with him — especially if you've been more used to avoiding
than seeking it out ;) The key, if you want some sleep, is find him
to do that doesn't involve /your/ working… like slipping off to the
for a nip of wild wherry with the boys.

He'll never get napping properly in the bowl — with all that activity,
keep opening his eyes to see who made that noise, who just jumped in the
lake, who's transporting that noisy Crafter with the whiny voice back to
Hall, etc. If he wants to nap, he's got to go into his weyr and onto his

couch, where he can hole up in the peace and quiet. (And he does need to

nap.) Naps are bo-ring, and why does he have to take them, anyway?
Wastes time. He could be doing something exciting, like … well, even
inspecting the vtols that chance by would be better than that! At any
he'll be one of the dragons that are easy to sleep with — well, for you
sleep with; he's ever so much better than furs, the way he intuitively
as he can so you don't have a rock under your back. No peas under the
mattress for his Sissy!

Klimth is comfortable being made in his own image, but he's not one to
rub it
in. He isn't particularly narcissistic, might find a spot of shade so he
doesn't outshine the other dragons so much. Not Rudolf with the fake
nose, but
he just doesn't put himself so very forward. Except, except in the ocean,
the lake, when Rukbat's out, and his wet hide looks so enchanting in the
sparkle of sunlit water, he loves that. » Siss, do you see? Can we do
with oil, do you think? Is it too much? «

But not /scented/ oil. He smells so good already, just that natural
dragon-musk of him! He wants to be kept up, of course, maintained, but
hide of his — how lucky it's wash and wearable; what a nuisance to have
worry about one's togs.

As for food, Klimth prefers wherry where Seelinth, say, likes beef. And
especially as a hatchling, he likes his food to be hand-held, bite-sized:

sandwich-sized, as opposed to finger-food. That won't be practical when
gets older, of course, but it might be nice, now and again, to chop him
up a
little to show you really care.

As for females, he may become a ladies' man when he matures, out of sheer

self-defense: not only is he good-lookin', but he can fly, too. Although
wouldn't be sexually interested in a green who's not proddy, there's
some particular camaraderie with those about his size and smaller. Of
if she /is/ proddy — and if Klimth's interested — instinct will tell
him to
show off those shoulders to good effect, and curve his tail just so. He's
above using the tools he brought with him, not when they're so exactly
for the job! Still, flights won't lead to immediate successes; he'll
that, being too frank with /diving/ and whatnot, and get a clue about
tricksiness later. If he's lucky. The two of you may also enjoy
since he doesn't get 'het up', and there are so many interesting things
can do while the browns, golds and bronzes are out of the picture. >:)

Klimth will play Inspector Frost to your Clouseau, contrasting Sissy's
clumsiness with a much more surefooted approach. He's confident in his
hunches and own approach, even when faced with evidence to the contrary.
Stubborn, in that way, but maybe you'll know something about that ;)
He's not
perfect either though — the thing is, he, like Sissy, is blundering and
perhaps a bit ham-fisted. It's just that he means to be. If he can
Sissy anything, it will be this — to never mind that she may break a few

glasses, or trip over the doorstep. She's got just as much right to live

without apology as anybody else.

Still, Klimth is easy enough to rile if you push the right buttons: those
'pet topics' mentioned earlier. And when he gets worked up about
he almost froths. He gets a bit sullen, too, when he's in A Mood, but he
doesn't huff for any amount of time. He's got better things to do with
time, and better people — meaning you, Sissy — to spend it with.


While his physical voice is tenor — reedy in youth, perhaps a touch
due to that aristocratic nose (or part of that heredity he shares with
Aikanth) — his mindvoice is sparkleshot iron, a tempered metal that
strong in your psyche. You don't just hear him, you almost taste him;
certainly you feel the vibrations in your own sinews. When he's feeling
and well off, it's all good; the harmonics are easy. Let him feel a bit
or moody, however, and a trace of rust creeps in, roughing up his feel.
check, maybe, to see if you bit your lip — there's that flavor of blood.
And when he's fairly humming with good temper… well, you'll get to
feel that, too. Is laughter, or are yawns, infectious? They have
nothing on
your Klimth.

…Of course, we can only predict so much now: this is most certainly not
dragon whose future is predestined by the moment of his hatching, of
Impression, of joining a wing. Where will you go together? We're eager
find out!

Egg: Gr'ym
Dragonet: Maer, B'nal, Arien

Egg appendix:

I meant the Overpaint egg to serve as a kind of emotional barometer for
sands, this time around, to sorta highlight how thin and how fragile and
how plastered-over Grey and Fi's relationship is — it's the pleasant face
they're putting on everything that a few have discovered to be phony.

They're civil to each other. They're polite. Why, she even calls him
"honey." But they're miserable — silent, I think, when nobody else is
around, or they'll just answer basic questions: "What can I get you." "Who
Searched Ilaria?" Sometimes they can talk, but they don't *talk*. Or,
one time they sorta got close to it:

"I'm not mad at you, you know," Fi says flatly, bluntly, loud enough to be
but not really loud enough to demand an answer.

Which is just as well — because he's mad as hell at her, still. Well,
sometimes. Grey sits there, mildly, benignly, leafing through his
of administrivia as though it were entirely possible she were just
talking to

As for Gyrfath and Kolyath, they're fine. They bicker like an old married
couple. Kolyath relies upon Gyrfath's shelter, and she gives it to him.
they don't much go into what's wrong with their riders.

In a larger and more general context, the Overpaint egg is about
vulnerability, tenderness vs. grit, sensitivity vs. abrasiveness, things
not being what they seem — it's a real passive-aggressive little guy. In
the real world, an Overpaint is the province of art dealers, mostly,
something quite sought-after, not for what it looks like on the surface
(usually some humdrum landscape) but for the fact that it's covering up
something else. Mystique, y'know? Sometimes you can tell the overpaint by
the naked eye, up-close — if the brushstrokes on top don't ring true to
the topography of the canvas as a whole — but usually they shine a
blacklight over the thing and then the contours and outlines of the image
underneath become more pronounced.

On the practical side, the artist's side, well, I've done it with my own
work: canvas is fairly expensive (everything is expensive to an artist),
takes a lot of time to stretch it and prep it, and if there's a painting
that's not selling, or that you don't really like, and you just gotta
paint, you just paint something else right on top of the old stuff.
reason to overpaint might be driven by one's patron — there was a
commissioned piece I did when I was in high school for a play: the set
called for a portrait of the characters' family patriarch, a fictitious
muckety-muck in the army for Kaiser Bill. I first painted this character
a swarthy, stocky Bavarian type, big moustache, and then the play's
director — what a stinking prima donna he was — well, when the play ran
again, he asked me to paint *his* face right on top of the original. He
footing the bill, so I did. And it got mounted in the center of that set,
and was a striking likeness, although I did take the liberty of enlarging
the director's head to something just a wee bit beyond the human scale,
I did nothing to cover his baldness.

Hah. :3)


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