Paxith

C'aen's Patrician Milo-Green Paxith

Neo-Classical Egg
Blinding, brilliant white, with the faintest kiss of silvered haze,
presents a neat and geometric front, every curve and angle perfectly
balanced. Colorless, yet so much more than simply plain, the textured
shadows play havoc on centuries, breathing life into antiquated
styles, revering the shape but bleaching it into a new, clean, and
ultimately /modern/ sphere.

Neo-Classical lets texture by texture fall to the wayside, colorless
fractures dropping to blend in with the sandy oasis. It crumbles,
modern times giving way to an age-old ritual; but there is new life
underneath, one that has a stern and classic appeal all its own.

Patrician Milo-Green Dragonet
On this dragonet, even a prominently roman profile — patrician to
the point of abstinence — only serves to emphasize the soulfulness
of her large, forward-set eyes, the sensitive flare of her nostrils,
and oh, those headknobs that tip back into an illusion of innocence.
Even her matte peridot hue conspires, so obligingly demure as it
softens the spare line of bone and sinew; as for those cresting
neckridges, they blush with deeper, peaceful olive, all the way down
through the lash of her tail. It takes an unfurling of those slim
wings to give it all away, exposing the tensile strength of 'sails
and pale-highlighted 'spars: not just pretty, but quite pointedly
practical.

Ivory and marble reflect a kalidoscope of colors, stretching
against the loving twang of an electric fiddle. The amp is cranked,
tuning out the sounds while stone-ingrained color assults the eyes,
the world around you forgotten. Slowly, the tones flatten out, a soft
zing given as she prods. »Caenis? C'aen. There you are, C'aen. That
suits you a bit more better, I think. /My/ C'aen.« A thoughtful
pause as the colors still, before she introduces herself:

» My name is Paxith! «

  • Why this egg?

We know you like surprises — you always have, and will. This egg, to us,

will fit the old yet new sensations that you will experience with Paxith,
a
dragon with just as many shades of contrasts… without really being
that.
She's herself, nothing more, just as you are only what you claim to be —
or
are you? and what does that imply for her? — and you'll both always have
your
little secrets, the little tidbits you hide inside that only the two of
you
will share and appreciate.

  • Why this name?

Paxith comes from the Latin word pax, meaning peace. More deeply, her
name
inspiration comes from the man who brought that 'pax' to the Roman people

around the turn of the milliennium. Augustus was the first Roman emperor
who
brought peace to his people, in the form of a new goddess, Pax Augusta.
This
'favored by the gods peace' brought to an end the civil wars of the Roman

Empire, and in the same way, Paxith might be an end to turmoil of
adolescence
for you. Then again, that peace of his was achieved through war, was it
not?
The first stages of getting to know each other will be tough — there'll
be
conflict — and adulthood will bring turmoil of its own; but there will
be
peace as well. How rare that is, well, that's up to you: every
government,
indeed, every /relationship/ must work out its own balance of freedom and

control. Will yours be a relationship of opportunity or
resources-wasting
separate ways? Stifling or structured growth? …Well, all of those. :)

P is for Paxith

P stands for Paxith.
P does not stand for pouty, or pregnant, or placating, or pious.
P does not stand for preventing or prevaricating or pussyfooting.
P does not stand for proxy or privacy or prostration or …
… punctuality.
P stands for /Paxith/.
P stands for Pax Romana.
P stands for prominent, patrician profile.
P stands for peppy.
P stands for, yes, pretty.
P stands for peridot.
P stands for pizzazz.
P stands for pyro!
P stands for piquant and pique.
P stands for principled and prideful.
P stands for practical.
P stands for plunder.
P stands for praetorial.
P stands for preoccupied.
P stands for presumptions.
P stands for priorities.
P stands for P.S.
P stands for patron.
P stands for pest.
P stands for plots.
P stands for pillows.
P stands for peccadillos.
P stands for peyote and picnics.
P stands for pharmacopeia.
P stands for payday and payoff.
P stands for plea bargains.
P stands for plenty o' pleasure.
P stands for phalanx and phaeton.
P stands for pinpoint (or pinhead).
P stands for planchette.
P stands for powwow.
P stands for punitive.
P stands for punt.
P stands for phenomenal.
P stands for pivots and parabolas.
P stands for painstaking.
P stands for pace-setting.
P stands for perilous.
P stands for possibilities.
P stands for … Paxith.

Physical:

Color-wise, Paxith is a really light green, a classic peridot that
doesn't
have too much variation over her hide; just a few blurs of tone-on-tone
shade
like brushed velvet, and the deeper note of her backridges' olive touch,
spine
generously lathered in the shade. For the most part, though, she's one
of
the paler greens ever produced: classical, perhaps pretty or striking,
but
certainly not beautiful. The one thing that makes her stand out, however

well, in addition to her attitude — are her wings. They are highlighted
in
seafoam, the color nearly bleached away, as if displaying the wingbones
underneath — and when you get to flying, oh how it'll show off the
flight
muscles as well! While this combination might seem a bit odd on another
dragon, on Paxith, it lets her stand out even more, giving her whole form

soft, classic illuminescence.

Classic. That is the one word that most often comes to mind over Paxith's

physique. Again, she isn't the prettiest green, not comparing to the
similarly pale Belisanth's hothouse bloom, but there is something
alluring
about the romanesque snout, or perhaps the fact that her form is sleek,
without being too thin, or too portly — or maybe that's just you, hmm?
Size-wise, in the beginning she will be a rather large green dragonet.
In
fact, she'll be as big as some of the boys, and roughhouse just as
easily!
Eventually, however, she will stop growing and her clutchmates will leave
her
behind… but that won't stop the roughhousing any, oh no, and she'll
learn to
use her smaller size as leverage.

She also won't be the most deep-chested dragon, that area just a bit
smaller
and flatter than the rest of her already light-boned physique — in fact,

Paxith might scare you a touch with her small, quick breaths, especially
if
you should wake up in the middle of the night and find her quiet.
In-out-in-out-in-out…. her lung capacity isn't the largest, so she
makes use
of the space that she has, and even experiment with other techniques.
Perhaps she'll eventually learn to breathe out the side of her muzzle
while
flying, sucking in and expelling air through nostrils /and/ mouth to gain
that
extra bit of boost she needs to continue on. (The /good/ news is that
since
she's so light of frame, for all that she'll be tossed around in windy
weather, in better weather it'll take so little effort to send you two
soaring. And heck, in windy weather — just get her to drink half the
lake
beforehand, that'll serve as ballast, even if it does mean a few extra
hops
::between::. ;) ) Indeed, in general Paxith has extra resilience, even
if she
should lack endurance; if your tomboy must leave the fray, well, she'll
be
able to hop back in soon as well, not like those big dragons who, when
they're
exhausted, aren't good for anything for ever so long.

Her wings are her pride and joy, and they will be the things she'll grow
into: whether it's pivoting on a mark or riding a great parabola of
momentum,
if it's fast, she's for it. Already, though, she's proud. At first, her
wingspan might dwarf her clutchmates, being /wide/, but she'll grow into
them
when the time comes. Which doesn't mean that they won't itch. Itch a
lot.
Along with her throat and /oh/, between her toes, could it get any better
than
that? (Just watch for the talons when she's kneading…)

Voice:

Oh, her mental voice is an electric fiddle, with ever so much more zing
than
Theronth's mellow cello, and if she feels like it, she can turn the
amplifier
way, /way/ up. Image-wise, instead of mutating from color to color, in
general she presents the same basic marble — which may soften, 'tis true

and /that's/ veined with the kaleidoscope of hues. It's part barrier and

part, well, giveaway beyond the thought at hand.
Now, her physical voice is anything but high; it's a husky baritone,
oddly
warm from such a spare, slim dragonet, and only in a croon does she
normally
display vibrato — but you might talk her into trying more verbal
ornaments,
just for you, with the trill being rarest of all.

Personality:

Paxith has a certain perspective upon her life and how she should live
it. A
tomboy to a substantial degree, if not as stalwart as Rosie-the-Riveter
Xenith, you'll find her roughhousing with everyone from Klimth to
Thernoth…
why? » They said I couldn't do it…. so I /did/ it, « with not a
little
mental laughter. She likes doing that. It's her, to be able to work hard,
and
play hard. She's one of the boys, but — at least, once she reaches
sexual
maturity — she knows she's a girl. Female. That is set in her mind,
and no
one can change it. (Then again, if /others/ comment on it, she's apt to
either ignore them or whap them; and she hasn't a vampish bone in her
body,
not Paxith, although she can channel it, as it were, for flights.)
Still,
that awareness of /femaleness/ won't change the fact that she won't cry
to you
when she's nudged out by one of her clutchmates — oh no. She's going to
get
that dragon back. In full. Not so much revenge, …just a part of the
game
that she likes to play with the others: usually it's only one eye for an
eye,
thank you, she doesn't need both. This time. Paxith will hold her own,
and
and will boast when she comes back, triumphant. (And occasionally she
won't
win, and you'll need to console each other… but that's what dragon
memory is
for, to forget.)

One of the amazing things about Impressing Paxith is that, early on, all
your
woes and worries become simple. Feed me! Oil me! (Yes, you the human,
too.) Let me sleep! /No/, I don't want to practice marching around.
(But
chewing on Seelinth's tail, now, that's another story.) Future? Sex?
Marks?
Who cares; it just doesn't matter. As a weyrling it may be difficult to

distinguish you from her. Then again, do you really need to? Paxith
will
always be with you, if she can; in person is best of all, but in mind —
well,
that's something. That's a lot.

The sad thing is that as she matures, these outside cares will creep back
in
bit by bit; but while you'll most certainly have to deal with them again,
for
better or worse it'll be in the new context of Paxith. Worse: you have
an
other-self to deal with. You can no longer fit you and all your
belongings in
a teeny closet-sized room all your own that nobody else gets to enter
(and
that goes for your thoughts as well as your physical stuff). Better:
you can
always look back, look /in/, and feel what's really important to you,
drown
yourself in her for a time (and best of all, you won't have a hangover
afterward, for all that your troubles won't automagically go away).
She's the
ultimate lover; she knows you better than anyone else… and she still
cares
for you! Imagine that! Are your shirts wrinkled? Do you forget to take
a
bath sometimes? Well, golly, she may dunk you in the lake — but she'll
go in
with you. When it comes time to flights… they might be scary, but in
time
you may grow to welcome them: no pretenses, no faking it, just flying.
Releasing. Male dragons, well, only one can have a good night of it; you
two
will /always/ win.

It should be noted, though, that while Paxith will grow into a
consciousness
that she's /female/ — she's very color-blind (but otherwise quite
particular,
thanks) about who she hangs out with. In flights, sure, she'll be sexy
(zowie!) and not a little possessive of /her/ males, but outside, she
simply
likes contact with other dragons. (Other humans, well, they're not so
much
fun, they're awfully fragile; but /dragons/…) Males, females, old,
young,
she'll lean on them for a good nap if she likes them; all they have to do
is
have to live up to her not inconsiderable standards. Which is not to say
she
won't tease, » I'll not snooze with /you/ tonight, « but male/female
just
won't matter. Will some gossip extra-much about her rider's sexuality,
see
who she sleeps next to and who she doesn't? Well, we'll just have to
see,
won't we. (» What is this… this… 'stereo-type'? You are you! You
are
mine! Tell them to bite their own tails. « And if you don't, she
will.)
And admittedly, her actions aren't all entirely innocent; after all, she
mayn't be angling to set you up, but she /does/ want all the sun and
warmth
she can get!

How about a little more of you two together:
Part of what you two share is an appreciation for beauty. Which
isn't to say you mayn't disagree on what you consider beautiful at times,
a la
'I don't know art, but I know what I like!' Do you want to clutter your
weyr
with statues and paintings and pinwheels and whatnot? She'll indulge
you,
even do not a little plundering herself … as long as they're not where
she
can step on them. (Which will make murals and tapestries extra-great in
her
book, not to mention the latter can quite practically help to keep her
warm.)
The only thing that truly saves crafthalls and the like is that usually
she
can't fit inside to see their Toys. (And smiths are best of all… see
the
next paragraph.) Riding Search may well be the same way, only that's
extra-fun because she doesn't just have to look through your eyes; Paxith

inexplicably alternates a terrifying pickiness (» He smells funny. —
No, I
don't know why. — Even if you can't smell it, I can! « ) with more of
that
grand plundering (» I want him! And him! And her! « "She's a Master,

Paxith." » So? Want her anyway! « "Er, Paxith…." » I'll take them
all!
«).
One question is whether you'll enjoy flaming as much as she does.
She'll suffer the firestone reek for flaming this, flaming that, flaming
the
other thing. Weeds in the bowl? Bonfire out on the coast? No problem!

Quite a little pyro, your Paxith.
Sweeps are good too, at least when she gets to vroom, or show you off
at a nearby cothold (loud red leathers are good, we must add). But maps?

Who needs 'em! Asking directions, that's worse. It suits her
selves-reliant,
tomboy nature.
Whether it's flaming or sweeps, after a good workout, Paxith does
like her naps. Especially in company. (Privacy? What's that? Bath?
That's
/afterward/.) She mayn't sleep so soundly, and she may sleep in when you
two
are supposed to be at morning drills, but at least she's just as apt to
inform you and the other dragons, » I'll tell /you/ a story! « as
demand one
herself. Then again, her stories, at least as a youngling, tend to
feature
The Little Green Dragon That Could, rider in prime position upon her
neck,
mowing down a whole flock of wherries…
We're afraid that if your ego should inflate, well, almost all the
time, Paxith isn't going to take it down any pegs. Indeed, she'll see
what
she can do to get you to /float/ out of sheer gibbering happiness. What
fun!
She likes you ever so much, and isn't in the least averse to showing it.

Good thing she's not big on drool.
…And, of course, even if she pretends to forget your name… she'll
always know it, and you'll /know/ she knows it. Enjoy.

Egg: Zephre
Dragonet: N'fra, Arien, Adara
'P is for Paxith' came from Arien.

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