Redthorn Anvil

The Apex - IC Hangout Thread

@JaceBeleren I sort of figured it was something like that. I've done similar things like this myself before, in other forums. By 'here', Hadrian was trying to find out what the Apex looked like, if anything. I try not to let my characters determine the scenery if I can help it. Bad manners.

The Apex - IC Hangout Thread

A center of the multiverse is all very well and good, but where exactly is 'here'?
Hadrian didn't know.
Can it burn?
Ah yes, the ever-present voice in his head. It was hard to forget, though he certainly wished he could at times. Hadrian ignored the voice's comment. He wasn't burning down anything today.
Glassy clicks could be heard as Hadrian tapped the fingers of his metallic arm against the palm of it's hand--a habitual tick he picked up years ago. Through his matted strands of hair, he glanced around with otherworldly eyes. There seemed to be no one else present. That gave him some comfort. People...terrified him. He had a distinct feeling though that his luck would soon change. He wrapped himself up in his old maroon cloak, which had seen much use, abuse, and wear. It was stained, fringed, and torn in some places, but it provided some warmth still. Now all bundled up, he leaned himself against a wall, waiting.
Watching.

Redthorn's Art Forge

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Exodus

"I'm afraid not. The dragons provided us with the recipe to keep us warm during long nights, but I don't have it written down anywhere. I could only guess as to how it's made. It involves dragon magic, though, that I know." T'vor said. "Try not to set my tent on fire, please." He added. "Also, don't give any to the dragons. They really will burn my tent down."

"Speaking of dragons, T'vor, I've always been curious, because you never really talked about it. You say that a major change happens when you bind yourself to a dragon, but what exactly happens?"

T'vor took a swig, passed the bottle, and stroked his chin for a moment.
"Well...part of it depends on the dragon." He replied. "When you are bound to a dragon, the two of you share also a strong mental link. There are no secrets between the two of you. There is no such thing as 'alone'. As for the rest...well, as I said, it depends on the dragon. I was gifted with the power of a dragon's strength and speed. If necessary, a dragon can physically alter his rider through dragon magic. When a bond is made, the rider becomes more dragon than man. It feels as though I were a dragon trapped within a Demon's body, to be honest. It is the same with all riders. A dragon can release his rider's dragon soul to take it's true shape."

"So...you'd turn into a dragon?" Sephiroth asked.

"Hmm...not quite. A rider could never fully become a dragon, but he would certainly look like a familiar of one. Though I've never had the pleasure of experiencing it myself."

"Interesting."

Exodus

"What I feel is not up for public discussion, young one." T'vor told the little dragon. He looked over at Anuriel. "Perhaps. I just hope that my Lord can keep his temper under control with her. The two of them butting heads...could be disasterous, to say the least." He said.

Satisfied that the princess was sleeping, Sephiroth returned to the tent.
"Your hair." T'vor gestured. One thin strand of hair at his forehead was considerably darker than the rest of it.
"...Figures." Sephiroth replied, lifting it in front of his eyes to look at. "But never mind that. I myself could do with a drink as well...but just one."

"You're in luck." T'vor replied, pulling from his trunk a bottle of some sort of alcohol. It was black in color. "I happen to have something on hand."

"Oh no, is that the hell-spawned poison you dragon riders are so fond of?" Sephiroth made a face.

T'vor shrugged. "I'll drink it by myself then. Or would Anuriel like to try it? Beware, it is certainly not something for the faint of heart like Sephiroth here." T'vor offered the liquor of dubious content to the lady.

"Ugh, I'll regret this..." Sephiroth muttered, but sat himself down on the ground beside the dragons. "Fine then, give me your acid fire." He told the taller man, who also sat on the floor facing him. T'vor handed him the bottle.

Sephiroth took a gulp with a disgusted look before wordlessly handing it to Anuriel.
"Gods, that's foul." He coughed.

Exodus

It was at that moment that T'vor did indeed decide to shove his helmet back on with a soft thump.

"Princess, what are you doing here?" Sephiroth set the little dragons on the ground and rose to his feet in an attempt to steady her. She smelled of alcohol. She had indeed drunk too much.

"One of Ariadel's remedies, I'd wager." T'vor commented.

There was a flash of minor irritation across Sephiroth's face, and he shook his head with a sigh.
"You need to sleep, is what. Do you recall where your tent is?" He asked her, but he thought better of it, judging by her appearance. "Never mind. Come with me. You four, stay with T'vor until I come back." He said that last bit to the dragons, then escorted the poor drunk princess out. He was indeed mildly irritated with her.
"What would possess you to think it a good idea to get drunk, especially in the middle of the afternoon? You're a princess, not some sleazy tavern wench! How do you expect to gain any respect if this is the kind of poor choice you're going to make?"
He knew she was probably too drunk to even care about what he was saying, but it made him feel better to say it anyway.
"You can't be seen like this." He told her, then stopped at his tent.
"Get you to sleep. Don't come out until you have a reasonable head on your shoulders. Please." His tone of voice was not exactly cordial.

"Well, it's a good thing she's drunk. She might not appreciate him ordering her around if she were sober." T'vor commented. He looked at the dragons. It was quite an exciting thing, to be sure. The dragons back on Genesis couldn't travel by space, and had to be left behind. They were undoubtedly destroyed. It had been a painful farewell between he and his own dragon.
But now was not the time to think on such depressing things. There was work to do. There would be time enough to mourn his dragon later.

Exodus

"Well then, for my Lord's sake, I may have to oblige him." T'vor smirked. "In truth, I'm far too astounded that these were brought safely to Terra to consider how glad it makes me."

"There, he smirked. That counts as a smile." Sephiroth told Anuriel.

"Though to answer your question, Anuriel, they very well might, if they so choose. Some dragons prefer not to bond themselves with a mortal, and sometimes the person they choose is not willing to enter into that kind of bond. But they may, given time. It is important now for the hatchlings to know their surroundings, their limitations, and the people around them. As caretaker of these young ones, Sephiroth, I advise that you see to it that they get around the camp to familiarize themselves with the area. When they are strong enough to fly, then we shall see about honing their skills. Sharing the blood of dragons myself, I will be able to show them how to master themselves." He peered over at Yuvon, then noticed the others, and what they were doing.
"As for you three, do not be so quick to judge. Wise you may be, but you know nothing yet of the world in which you now live. You may find that no one here will make a suitable partner, so do not set your minds just yet. You at least, have an eternity to decide."

Redthorn's Art Forge

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Exodus

T'vor was once more abruptly awoken and snatched up his helm in an attempt to put it on before whoever was entering noticed--but then saw who his newest visitors were, and he grunted. "What do you two want?" He asked of Sephiroth and Anuriel in a somewhat disgruntled tone.

"Well, T'vor, I--we--are a bit at a loss. Damien--"

"What's that lout done this time?" T'vor demanded.

"...Nothing. Aside from giving me these." Sephiroth proffered the little dragonlets. "I'm not exactly sure what I should be doing with them--though they insist that I need to give them names."

T'vor opened, then closed his mouth several times, chewing on the events that had just taken place.
"...Well, names are very important for a dragon--names possess power in dragon magic, in such a way that a dragon essentially grows to become one with their name, quite literally meaning that the dragon and its name give each other purpose and meaning--the dragon becomes the name. So naturally, they want to be named. But...how did Damien come by these?"

"He thought they were river stones. Then they hatched some time after he gave them to me." Sephiroth replied.

"I suppose it's true that some dragons will hide their eggs by burying them or sinking them to the bottom of a river--but usually only when they perceive some great threat which would require the eggs to be further protected...Those eggs may have been several thousand years old."

"That's all very well and good, T'vor, but what about the names?"

T'vor shook his head briefly as if waking himself from a dream. "Yes, of course. Ah, I see you have Anuriel's book. It is full of old legends, but I am not sure how useful that will be in teaching you the specifics of caring for such creatures. I can assist you if you get confused. Naming a dragon isn't usually very easy. Often that job fell to the elder Dragoons, who knew more about dragons than anyone else alive. But we don't have that luxury. If I may?" He held one hand out.

"Sephiroth took one of the little dragonlets and placed it into T'vor's palm. It was the dark grey one.

"Krosis, goraan gein." He told it in a perfect imitation of the creature's native tongue. He examined the dragonlet closely. "Her name is Dunveniz, close as I can tell. She'll be a swift flyer."

"How can you tell she's a she?" Sephiroth asked. "They all look the same."

"Mmm...I can't really explain it to you. When you've been around dragons, you just know. The other three are males. He handed Dunveniz back to Sephiroth, who handed him another--a dark green-and-brown mottled one.

"His name is Yuvongolkren. Near as I can tell, he'll likely be the strongest of the four, physically." He handed back the little dragonlet.

The next one to be named was a black dragon, who had slightly iridescent hide.
"His name is Vulanyolved. I cannot determine his qualities, but that in itself suggests a very strong mind."

And lastly;
"This one's name, as near as I can tell, is Kreinrokun. I feel he'll keep the rest of these troublemakers in line." The name he'd determined belonged to a silvery white male who bore the most striking golden eyes.
"Now that they know their names, you can shorten them. I've never known a Dragoon to call his dragon by it's full name consistently."

"I can see why..." Sephiroth replied, looking at the four of them. "From now on I'll call you lot Dun, Yuvon, Vulan, and Krein. That's not nearly as difficult."

That Character you have always wanted to play

I have a lot of characters, maybe close to like about 200ish or something, with some generous rounding off. But the one character I always really want to play, and rarely get to, is the assassin. Like a /true/ assassin, aligned with evil or neutral/evil, master of the shadows and the dagger, nameless, faceless, cold, ominous, fear-inducing blackmailer.
Of course that almost never works well in a roleplay simply because roleplays rely so much on character development and requires social participation, the two things that seriously conflict with that kind of character to the point where it's nearly impossible to pull it off XD