If one were rude, one would call him dull. If one were shrewd, one would call him understated, and say there’s more to him than meets the eye. Mistakable in poor light for a large brown, the dominant coloring on this small-framed dragon is green-mottled, muted bronze. The green isn't a pure green, so he's certain never to be mistaken for the wrong gender. It's a deep mossy or lichen green, as though he was left too long in the shell and bronze hide has been weathered by time untold. Perhaps his hide once shone brightly, like many of his kins’ do, but no longer. Instead, he is wrapped simply, in this indistinct insipid shading. His structure is of greater note than his coloring: he is perfectly proportionate of bone, but wrapped in reams of thick, powerful muscle, so much so that his stance is slightly odd due to the muscle mass. Besides his remarkable musculature, the most interesting feature the bronze has is his wedged head. Eye-ridges are high and angular, lending him an intelligent look that his rugged looks might otherwise obscure. Around his eyes is a singular shine of pure, fresh-from-the-forge bronze giving him a masked look, or from another perspective, perhaps the entire exterior is the disguise and the only betrayal of his true colors is the brilliant flash about his bejeweled eyes.


Trying to find every depth and nuance of Oszarioth's personality is like trying to find the limits of a black hole (or the bottom of a bag of holding). It's like trying to trace a tree's roots, where there are always more forks, splits, and paths to follow: each one has so many connections, that you're lost before you even begin to backtrack. The best way to learn all of his facets is to learn to appreciate him in the moment because once the moment's gone, you may never see that exact same face of him again for days, weeks, months or possibly even in your lifetime together, but every aspect that surfaces is woven into the intricate map of who he is. It is the kind of thing that can be summed up as awe-inspiring when looked at from a distance. At a glance, everything moves together, as one, but at times, when you break it down into parts, he's sometimes conflicted or conflicting – possessing faces of light and dark, merry and macabre.

Life is a party! Live it up! Or at least, this is the philosophy that Oszarioth subscribes to as a weyrling. Now is not the time for learning, it's the time for living! The only teacher he wants is first-hand experience, so it will take effort for you to rein in his attention when it's time for lessons. While you barter for his attention, he'll slyly be bartering for yours, trying to entice you into activities far more exciting. Exploration is the name of the game, for you never know where entertainment will be found - whether in the next field or even just around the next corner. And whether he gets to be the entertainer, or the entertained matters not to Oszarioth, so long as he, and everyone else, is having a good time, he can play any part. Oszarioth isn't having fun if he's the only one. If there's one thing he is, it's a temptation. He's got a silver-tongue and more than enough in his mental arsenal to draw other dragons into his merry-making than he needs. He has a knack for seeking out that which would enthrall his target most. He'll beg, barter, seduce, and, if he really thinks it's the best tactic, threaten to gain fellow revelers.

Oszarioth will enjoy ground and flight drills and be more easily cajoled into participating, for acting as part of a wing whether on the ground or in the air is, in his mind, like a dance - and he does love to dance. In moments of boredom (no matter how inappropriate the timing might be - like when the Weyrlingmaster is in the middle of a crucial lecture), you will likely see him swaying his tail, swishing his rump, and doing a little boogie to some unheard music - well, unheard to anyone who's not listening. His love of dance will extend to every kind on ground and in air. He will wish you to share this passion with him, and you’ll never hear the end of it if you’re not willing to get on the dance floor. If ever he is asked to perform an action during a lesson, perform is exactly what he does. You, and anyone listening, will get the running commentary of his stellar performance - well, that’s how he’ll tell it anyway: « Notice the daring, tail-trip fake out before take-off! Never before attempted by any weyrlings on this field today! » And as a quiet reassurance to you alone, « I meant to do that! » ).

His favorite time is meal time - and he likes variety in his food. Variety and quality. He'll send you back to the butcher's block time and time again if the haunch you've selected doesn't pass his rigorous quality testing. If ever there is a time where he simply has to eat for the sake of eating, he'll groan and bemoan about the succulent morsels he's had before. What he drinks is important to him, and he’ll claim to you that he can tell the difference between ‘Reaches spring water and Fort lake water. While most dragons aren’t interested in trying different foods, he’s always curious about what you’re eating and will be thrilled by tastes of the exotic. Firestone chewing, due to his delicate palate, is a less-than-pleasant task, but he does like the fiery results of his efforts.

Though the party-boy spirit that is essential to Oszarioth's younger manifestation will never fade, maturity brings richer and more refined feel to the walking/flying-soiree that is your lifemate. Adulthood simply means a transition in the definition of fun. It's no longer “Bouncy Holds” and play with wooden swords that delight him (though such things haven't lost all their appeal either), it's now things that bring more of a rush. It’s dare devil acts mid-air, anything with bonfires, fortune telling, and a good and risky gamble (win or lose) that appeal to him. Some of these things you can share with him, and he is the happier for it, but he's not one to ever rob you of a good time he can’t directly participate in either. Truthfully, it’s because he's happy enough to eavesdrop on your frivolity and live vicariously through you, or will find himself an equally good private party with the nearest green or gold. His passions are quick to rise, whether in play at anger or amore. Don't expect him to be a cooling influence should your blood start to boil in lust or in rage. If anything, he’ll only fan the flames.

He has two switches when it comes to fun: yes, and shells yes! No amount of knowing the responsibilities daybreak will bring will help you wrangle him away from a good time - for, as he will tell you, « Magic happens in the night, and if you close your eyes before the dawn breaks, you're missing out. » As such, his sleep habits are fairly odd, for as much as he hates to admit it, he can only run on the draconic version of adrenaline for just so long. His dreams, however, should you ever care to eavesdrop, are as vivid and tantalizing as his waking imaginings. He has few bad moods, but this is his third switch. When something truly disappoints him, it’s like a whole Weyr full of upset Gather goers when a storm’s rolled in. Gloom, doom, and nothing but sour disappointment. Still, it’s not overly difficult to roust him from this with a good distraction.

One thing he excels at is kicking up the morale in his wing, which makes him invaluable as a wingmate (or even wingleader, weyrlingsmaster, or whatever other positions you and he might aspire to – and he will aspire if you let him, for who has the most fun at the party? The one’s with the flashiest outfits and most attention garnered). He’s always looking on the bright side (except when the dark is just too sexy and appealing to ignore, and even that makes it a bright side unto its own), and his enthusiasm is infectious to all but the most down-hearted, and he stands a better chance at most at making a dent in their gloom. He’s good at uniting dragons to a purpose, towards a goal, and at making work seem like a game. He’s the one who’ll preach to the others that you work hard so you can play harder!

In Oszarioth's book, it's good that you're adaptable, because he's going to throw a lot of curves for you to roll with. If you're a raft on his river, you're in for a wild ride! That said, for all his cajoling with his clutch-siblings and seekings for deeper connections with others of dragonkind, you are now, and forever will be, his /lifemate/. To him that means something that he can't even describe in words. Every time he addresses you, there is an undercurrent of pride, possessiveness, and pure adoration. You are his favorite party partner - as far as he's concerned, the best parties are ones where you're both having fun. Should you be in a bad mood, he's the first to try to comfort you, to raise your spirits, and to let it go unsaid but not unfelt that you and he are together forever, and that, to him, is an unbreakable bond that touches him more deeply than he's comfortable voicing. Just because he doesn't say it, however, doesn't mean anything: it's in every mental breath. You belong with him, and he with you.

It is impossible to sum Oszarioth up in a few words. He is the spirit of celebration wrapped up in an outwardly dull package. The dullness of his hide is more than made up for with his vibrancy of mind and spirit. He will lead you - or follow you - to the farthest reaches of the known world to hunt down every lead that points to a good time of any kind. Even if the lead proves false, it’s a party wherever you both are, as far as he’s concerned: a celebration of all being right in the world so long as you both are together. He envisions a life of enormous pleasure and variety of experience, and in his head, you are in every snapshot of every good thing he foresees coming his way, and trust you’ll be there to assure him in bad moments that it only seems bad right now, but you two will have a good laugh about it later. Love, laughter, and levity, enjoy it all with your Oszarioth!


Primal Perceptions

More often than not, the touch of Oszarioth's mind is a dizzying assault on every sense at once. His mind bursts with vivid colors, often unnecessarily bright and poorly matched (neon greens with hot pinks, electric blues with slashes of zesty yellows). These brightest colors tend to manifest at the most excited moments (which is many moments for him), and even his neutral ranges are shades of vibrant ruby, emerald, and sapphire. No color is unknown to his pallet and no combination (whether in splashes, splotches, stripes, or neatly ordered polka dots) is forbidden. Colors are almost never without texture - either to their look, or to the impression he leaves on another's mind. The textures of fine fabric, feathers, leather, rough glitter, and smooth glass are rife in his touches. He's not limited to sight and touch only, for his touches often come flavored with the most succulent dishes available - especially specialties of the area, or any of your favorites. And where would be flavor without smell? His mind touches are woven with aromatics from fresh-baked bubblies, refined vintner's brews to sultry incenses, the smells of bonfires and musky cologne. Sounds are the undercurrent and occasionally over-riding sensation that pulls it all together. Oszarioth uses a wide variety of sounds to communicate himself. There are almost always drums - pulsing through his mind, smooth and even when he's calm, and firing up into dance-worthy beats when he's excited. He doesn't limit himself to just drums, though, there are so many other sounds for expression! Everything from horns to guitars to the sounds of a thousand hands or voices raised as one. One thing he has trouble with is reining it in. Enthusiasm oozes from his mindtouch spreads like an infection. It's the kind of intensity, especially with him typically being more boisterous than reserved, that might lead to head-aches until those he touches get used to his vivacity. For all of his enthusiasm though, he has his moments of dark, subtle seduction: versatile in all things and especially anything within the scope of the mind and imagination.

Egg Name and Description

Curbing Catastrophe Egg


The base of this egg is a cacophony of verdant greens, snaked, knotted, and entwined in layers of lazy loops and curls. The green all too quickly gives way to a climb of a barren tapestry of taupe. The clarity of the colors on the shell of the ovoid becomes muddled about halfway up by a dark smoky haze. Even the haze is not enough to dampen the glow of orange crowning the top of the egg. The color is an eye-sore, not in that it's unattractive, but rather in that it is so intense that it mightn't be wise to look at for too long, like looking at Rukbat or molten metal fresh out of the coals of the smithy. Fortunately, it's only certain angles that reveal the tiny flares that particularly vivid color, while the rest of the top simply radiates an intense copper through the sooty miasma.

Hatching Message

The day of reckoning has come. Perhaps it’s all the noise from the collective dragon hum that has prompted this egg into action or the mass of movement on the sands by candidates and riders, but regardless of the cause, the egg is no longer content to lie dormant. The hazy top of Curbing Catastrophe Egg is shivering. It has never looked more like a miniature smoking volcano than it does at this exact moment as the shell vibrates slowly, gaining momentum as the moments pass. It’s a rhythmic movement, as though shuddering in time with some unheard beat of jungle drums. The foliage green at its base begins to dislodge from the mound of sand it had been partially buried in, shaking away the particles with violent abandon.

With a great shake, Curbing Catastrophe Egg wrenches itself to a precarious position, teetering on the pinnacle of its sand mound. Free now of the sands constricting its bulk, it begins a primal sort of dance, hopping into the air and turning slightly. It makes a depression into the mound when it lands, possibly trying to re-bury itself? With each thump, there is also a crack. Thump, crack, thump, crack. The occupant of the egg is clearly now beating out the rhythm, sharing it with the world as anticipation mounts toward the critical moment: the moment where the dragonet within will either win this battle and erupt from dormancy in its shell into vibrant, rich life, or be quelled forever in the silence of cold, cruel death.

There’s a pop followed by a carnal snarl as Curbing Catastrophe’s occupant slams a claw through the roof of its incubator. The claw is, however, too covered in goo to give away its coloring. The taste of freedom is enough to spurn its efforts onward. With one mighty jump, the egg shatters, sending shards of green, grey, and molten orange fluttering down around like volcanic ash, or perhaps celebratory confetti? It’s certainly a celebration for the hatchling within as he strikes a pose, waiting for the dust to settle and the oohs and ahs from the crowds that his expectant gaze sweeping about seems to expect in welcome.

My, my, my! What have we here? All of this? For me? You shouldn’t have! Okay, okay, you should! Passion’s Prosaic Pretense Bronze Hatchling swings his head about, taking in the scene. This may be his opening act, but the stage is as yet unfamiliar. He takes in the sand, the shattered shell, the dam and clutchsire, the stands, and oh! But what are these white-robed things all about? Curiosity strikes him, and he’s blundering towards the nearest group of them, walk ungainly. He seems to realize this and comes up short of the group poised to dodge his approach. He looks down: well *this* was unexpected. Look at these! What are they? He examines first forelimbs then hind, twisting his head and neck down and around to try to observe his new motor capabilities from all sides and angles.

As if limbs weren’t interesting enough, there’s a *tail* too! Each protrusion from Passion’s Prosaic Pretense Bronze Hatchling’s form (every limb, tail, and neck) has been thoroughly examined, wiggled, tested, meaning a few more ungainly steps towards the candidates, and their subsequent chaotic surge backwards, lest he fall towards them and seek to break his fall with one of the sharp claws affixed to each limb. He seems about satisfied with his understanding of these new faculties to move along, when an ungainly step brings about an unexpected instinctual reaction and wings are unfurled for balance. What’s this now? Oooooh! And he’s immediately distracted investigating this newly-discovered piece of himself.

One final wiggle-test from Passion’s Prosaic Pretense Bronze Hatchling seems to settle his curiosity once and for all, at least when it comes to himself. Now that he’s sorted out just what each of these things do, he’s sashaying across the sands with uncanny grace for so newly born a hatchling, and especially odd given his strongly muscled physique. He only *looks* bulky enough to be clumsy, a clever, if unplanned, deception on his part: perhaps, one of many? The humming dragons have provided his music, now he just needs to find a dance partner! It’s quite a short search, actually. Unlike others who might nose around or examine every candidate, this small-framed bronze seems to know his course as well as the steps of his dance. It’s as though this bronzeling is drawn directly to the one with whom he’s destined to share a life. And so it is with a little flourish of tail and wings that Passion’s Prosaic Pretense Bronze Hatchling comes to a measured stop in front of a brown-eyed young man with thin dreadlocks. Ta da!

Impression Message

The din of chatter and cheers from the stands drain away as the light of the cavern dims to relative darkness. The hush comes in a ripple, as though some spectators to this momentous event were slow in realizing the main event had just begun. From the silence a drum-roll thrums into a thunder that blends into the sound of a thousand hands clapping in wonder as a bright light is cast upon you, Sh'koi. Expectation swells in and the claps turn to excited murmurs. The touch extended to you is at first so subtle you might miss it, giving shivers of anticipation like the barest touch trailed up your spine, beckoning you from the spotlight into the darkness where he waits. The basso profundo voice breaks clear into your mind, « Lords and ladies, weyrfolk and craftsmen, dragons and dragonets, » The spotlight jumps away from you and first a pair, then a quartet of beams of white light go crisscrossing, zigzagging and spiraling around in this private little world, « Please welcome to the world in his exclusive, extraordinary debut: » Glitter sparkles from all sides as the lights brush across the colorful corners of the dragonet's mind, revealing bold, vibrant shades of red, purple, blue and green, « The one, » Two of the spotlights abruptly die out, « The only, » And the world is suddenly in full-dark, only to throw you back into the here-and-now of the hatching sands, with abrupt, wild abandon, to leave you face to face with the muted bronze hatchling that you know without question accompanies the voice of ultimate frivolity echoing in your head, « Oszarioth! » Suddenly another sense kicks in: smell. All of your favorite foods come to mind at once as this divine odor wafts straight into your brain. The message is clear without defined words: food, please! And good food, at that.

Clutch Siblings

Brown Cikitsakath Impressed to Yhri (Jayashri)
Brown Iqsath Impressed to Polsie
Brown Mneoraeth Impressed to X'dis (Xandis)
Green Ronareoth Impressed to Melze
Green Sohnyuoth Impressed to Miki


Curbing Catastrophe Egg: This egg was based on the situational trope of "appeasing the volcano gods." I laughed out-loud when I saw this one on the list and it immediately brought to mind images of 1970s and 1980s films of virgins being sacrificed at the mouth of a gaping volcano. There was an episode from Gilligan's Island that sprang to mind, as well as the unforgettable chanting mini-sloths who tried to sacrifice Sid, Fire King, in Ice Age 2. The egg was fairly straight forward in its description: based on a smoking volcano. The mind touch, Primal Perceptions, was based on the idea of wild, misunderstood culture, savagery, and tribal elements as a sacrifice was prepared to appease the volcano gods.

Name Inspiration: You said you didn't like trying to cram everything you listed in your likes into one name and I know I hit four out of five with Oszarioth, but I really liked the way it rolled off the tongue. I pronounce it oh-ZZAIR-ee-oth with the four syllables blending together. Inspired by the Russian words for enchantment (ocharovanie) and captivate (ocharovyavat), and then tweaked a bit because I did like the buzz sound instead of the "ch." In my head, one of the first things I think of when it comes to a festival/faire/celebration is its ability to thoroughly enthrall attendees and allow them freedom to indulge in pleasures both common and unknown, so I thought this was fitting of both the light and dark side of the personality of the dragon.

Description Inspiration: You asked for a darker/murkier hued bronze, so searching bronze on the internet, I found this image and really liked the way the coloration was, and thus became the base for the color pallet for Oszarioth’s description: Chinese Bronze Pot

Personality and mindvoice inspiration: You requested a dragon based on the concept of a festival. That is what I tried to create in Oszarioth. I tried to take from your “what you wanted in a dragon” and incorporate as much as I could. That said, I really enjoyed writing him and hope you enjoy playing him in whatever way you see fit. It should go without saying that all of this is merely a suggestion and that you’re welcome to add/augment/get rid of whatever you like to make him the most fun for you since ultimately, I want you ecstatic with the lifemate your character is paired with. Your request fit into our clutch theme (tropes/cliches) as the “obligatory festival/carnival/faire episode.” You know the one where the producers decide they want to do an episode at a renaissance faire or have a school carnival or whatever other setting they want, and they fabricate some kind of reason to put the characters there. In virtually all plots and settings there is some kind of celebration that can be cited because communal celebrations/festivals and so on are an integral part of human society.

Some specific things I referenced or used as inspiration for your dragon were: your final questionnaire, the Count's introduction scene and the Carnival scene from Count of Monte Cristo movie, “Roxanne” scene from Moulin Rouge and characters the Unconscious Argentinian and Le Chocolat, the concept of dancers/brothels/etc., Cirque du Solei, renaissance faires, Brazilian Carnaval, Venetian Carnival, Louisiana Mardi Gras, Pink’s Raise Your Glass (here) , Lady Gaga’s Just Dance (here) , Inspired some of the brighter colors and textures from his mindvoice: (here)
Egg, dragon, and everything else herein brought to you by R’oo.


Name Passion's Prosaic Pretense Bronze Oszarioth
Dam Gold Vidyazath
Sire Bronze Otieneth
Created By R'oo
Impressee Sh'koi (Shakoi)
Hatched April 8 2011
Fort Weyr
PernWorld MUSH