Charli! Congratulations on impressing a dragon here at Ista Weyr! We hope that she is everything that you could want in a lifemate, though this inspiration is just a guideline for how to play your dragon. Of course, being Dzakath, we know she’s absolutely perfect (for you). You are not required to follow all or any of it. The dragon is /yours/. Members of SearchCo have put many hours into the creation of your dragon, and we are excited to see how you develop the personality in your own, unique way. — T’sei, Sienna, and Sadaiya.



That Ain’t Impossible Egg
Grungy, thick dark blue and brown waves of color saturate the majority of the egg with jagged lines, dirty splotches of off-tone color, and a thick overdone feel. Didn't you see this egg last Turn? But rising from the bottom, precious delicate swirls of pink and cream dance across the jagged lines gracefully and serenely as though it belonged, in contrast to what the rest portrays, as well as showing it ain't like those other eggs.

Egg Emits
Mmm. A silky smooth sensation washes over your entire being, as if one was being dipped in a warm gooey substance. And then? Well, that's all gone in an instant, as the cocoon of warmth is interupted by a crashing and shattering, a hardening of that outer casing and utter mixture of the hard with the soft. It's a little unsettling, but in the end, that smoothness returns, taking you back into its embrace and leaving you at least a little bit reassured. (Lida)

Smooth, soft melodies. Sleepy sensations, drifting away, away, away…But then, into that calm reverie comes a sudden dropping. A vanishing. Pulling away to be replaced by something much more in discord with the previous nature of the egg. It's jarring, unsettling. Something is Not Right. It lasts but a moment, and then the calmness returns, soothing and maybe reassuring. (Sienna)

This egg responds to your touch with a sense of calmness, of welcome, of reverie. Something feels a little…off, about it though: it's too smooth, too silky, too cool, and soon enough you sense a dischord deep within it, a sort of harsh, grinding dissonance that is immediately irritating to your sensibilities. But as odd as it is, it *fits* somehow, and the longer you stay in contact the more the odd dichotomy in this egg starts to come together in your mind, slowly beginning to make perfect sense. (Ei'es)

Hatching Message
With one final, decisive shudder, That Ain’t Impossible egg falls asunder, split in two. The halves dissolve into a cloud of shining shards, briefly obscuring the tiny form of the hatchling within, before Song of the South Green Dragonet steps daintily from the remains of her former home. neck and tail held high, showing none of the nerves that must certainly be coursing through her slender body.

Song of the South Green Dragonet
As pretty as a magnolia tree on a dewy April morning and as sweet as the first kiss of sun on the honeysuckle, she is grace and she is style in every inch of her form. Orchid greens wrap her body in snug silk and chiffon, the curve of her neck slender and smooth down to tapered shoulders that glimmer with a flash of diamond-studded brilliance. Her face is neither too wide nor too narrow, a pleasing sweep of line from her headknobs to her muzzle with a subtle pattern of ladyfern lace outlining the edges of her jaw. Slender legs show just enough strength to be alluring, her marble talons sparkling with just the right amount of shine. The sweep of her wings is long and perfectly proportioned to the rest of her body, their sails flickering with starlight and swirls of galaxies spun from precious gems in a never ending pattern of crests and valleys. Striped patterns adorn them like the gentle brush of feathers on a humid summer’s night, pale and dark in contrast. Dark jade sweeps over her rounded hips and down her slender tail, a muted emerald curving beneath in more eddies and folds of her cloak of stately grace.

Impression Message
Song of the South Green Dragonet shuffles a little, just a slight slide of her feet, as she studies the Candidates arrayed before her, clearly trying to decide what she's supposed to do. And yet, it comes to her in a flash, as those whirling eyes follow in the direction of a Candidate performing an odd sort of dance. Drawing in a deep breath, she sets forth, one foot before the other as she follows in the direction of her egg-goo, peering apologetically into a pair of pale eyes. Then, settling her wings carefully like a lady might settle her skirts, she sets back on her haunches, staring soulfully into the girl's face.

Personal Impression Message
The crack of eggs and the shift of feet on sands dies away, replaced by the hum of violins as they pick out the notes of a stately waltz. « Well, there you are. Such a crowd here tonight. It wears on the nerves, being presented before all of these people. » The soft voice, reminiscent of melted chocolate over strawberries, slithers into your mind, accompanied by the wail of a distant saxophone. The air is suddenly alive with the scent of magnolia blossoms on a sultry summer day, nearly overpowering the tang of whiskey and the fetid odor of delta swamplands. « Hello, Charli. I’m Dzakath. Aren’t you going to ask me to dance? »


Name Inspiration
Hey, you wanted it, you got it! Dzakath is a lovely name, and if it suits you, then it suits us!

Egg Inspiration
I'm Your Daddy - Weezer feat. Kenny G - Soprano Sax

Who is a Master at instrumentals? Kenny G. What is the single most oddest thing he's ever done? Work on an alternative rock song with Weezer. No matter how many times I listen to the song, I feel like my world now clashes. It's kinda dirty. But if it wasn't for Kenny G, you'd think you definitely heard that same song a hundred times before. It is definitely its own beast.

Description Inspiration
Dzakath’s frame and body are based off of the willow tree, a traditional symbol of strength disguised as slender pliancy. Willow trees are famous for their long, flexible branches, and a common sight in the Mississippi delta, where Dzakath draws her mind-voice from. While seemingly flimsy, willow trees have been known to hold up against tornados while around them, lesser trees are shredded. They have perfected the art of bending without breaking, of being pliant steel, far, far stronger than they look.

Her coloration, on the other hand, is that most frivolous and yet necessary of things for a proper lady: a ballgown. When trying to decide on a hide scheme for Dzakath, T’sei went image shopping, and one of the searches he did was ‘green Antebellum gowns’. Lo and behold, he came across this gem: and said ‘Bingo!’. While not technically a true Antebellum-style gown, it is very reminiscent of the romanticized ideals of what ladies wore back in the pre-American Civil War South. The trailing patterns of rhinestones found on the hem of the sweeping skirts are replicated in her wings, along with a subtle hint of the wing-pattern of the Great Horned Owl – just as you asked.

A core of strength inside a gorgeous, dainty exterior, that is your Dzakath, through and through.


Dzakath is magnolia blossoms in full bloom, the ripe tang of whiskey, a faint whiff of swamp water and rotting trees, all wrapped up in smooth, silky chocolate like the finest bonbon. Her mind-scape is pure Southern decadence - weeping willows and mossy oaks, the lazy flow of water through sun-washed pastures, and miles of clear skies. Not for her, however, is running free through the fields or basking upon the bank of a babbling brook - no, most of your conversations will take place while properly seated upon the veranda of an old, stately Southern-style hold, glorious vistas spread before you while you take your ease in white wicker chairs.

Most of the time, her voice is smooth, silky chocolate - rich and low and just a shade dark. She does not giggle or titter, but rather her laugh is a low, sultry roll that splashes across the mind and invites the listener to join in. Frequently, there is the soft warble of a solitary saxophone in the distance, a gentle counterpoint to her words.

When angered, however, her words turn to brittle ice, each syllable carefully enunciated and designed to cut her target down. « Kehemath, I will not tell you again. Turn down that infernal racket. For some of us, beauty sleep actually works! » Here, it is not the mellow, almost poignant tones of a saxophone that play the melody, but rather the harsher wail of a fiddle, creating dissonance to jar the mind and unsettle the one she is scolding.


Your Dzakath is the epitome of a Southern belle, full of grace, elegance, and slender curves. She is slim and lovely, like the graceful branches of a willow tree mixed with the sturdiness of its trunk. She is dainty but not delicate. Though her body is lean, there is true muscle beneath her hide, and she will have a strength that might surprise some who choose to judge her based only on her looks. Your Dzakath is slender but she is not weak.

From the beginning she holds herself with poise, rarely placing a foot wrong. She is graceful and smooth, without any jerky movements to mar her grace. The gawkiness of youth will rarely apply to her, because even as she grows lanky as the months pass, before her body fills out into the mature curves of adulthood, she will carry herself well. Stumbling will be mortifying, and she would much rather move slowly than look awkward. « It is better to take one’s time, dear Charli, than to rush around like a fool. »

Her hide resembles the finest fabrics, like silk and lace, delicately patterned and remarkably smooth. Blemishes will not be tolerated, and you will find yourself called to oil even the most minute spots, and often right before bed or after just waking up. She is a green who loves her rituals, and she must be properly tended to right before she goes to sleep, and right after waking up. Like a true Lady, appearance is important, and she will require only the best attentions from you, her beloved rider. « Dearest, there is this little speck on my paw. It looks like a bruise on an otherwise perfect peach, can you help? » you might hear as you begin to drift off to sleep. Better not ignore her either, or she will be most displeased, and no one wants that.

Her wings are slender but strong, and they have a pattern on them that is quite unique. Almost feather-like, the banding patterns resemble those of the great horned owl and will be very distinctive as she grows. At times she will preen her wings like a bird would, nuzzling her sails and rubbing oil into them on her own. She may enjoy your assistance, but she is not a dragon who cannot do things for herself, so don’t be surprised when she dips her muzzle into the oil bucket and sets to work oiling every part of her body that she can reach - especially her wings. You can do the touch-ups (and clean oil out of her nose!) when she is finished.

She is, in a word, lovely. But there is always that strength beneath that counters any belief that she is a helpless, doughy green. She is beautiful but she is not weak. Not in any sense of the word.


Of course, the rules of society had to be followed and the girls were expected to be virtuous and obedient to their parents. Strict guidelines in courting had to be followed- as the slightest ‘look’ of impropriety could ruin their reputation. Proper manners and etiquette was a must in the proper society – and any deviation from that was not looked upon well.

In Dzakath’s world, there is no room for anything but the utmost adherence to proper etiquette and form. A well-bred Southern Lady in every sense of the word, she follows the five fundamentals of good manners flawlessly and without fail:

Be Humble: Others first, yourself last. Self-denial and deference to others ("After you") are the cornerstone of good manners, acting selfish or uppity is not. This commandment is indisputably rooted in the Bible Belt theology ("the first shall be last, and the last shall be first").

Be Courteous: Remember the Golden Rule. Go out of your way to be helpful and kind to everyone you encounter.

Behave Yourself: Don't be uncouth, rude, brash, loud, coarse, or cause a commotion in public. Only trashy types do such things…..and obviously this is because they weren't raised to know better.

Be Friendly: Put your friendliest foot forward, whether you've been properly introduced or don't know the person from a hole in the ground. Be sociable and neighborly, just like you learned in Sunday School ("Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself").

(Having It Ya'll, 1993 by Ann Barrett Batson, published by Rutledge Hill Press)

Matters of appearance are of the utmost import to Dzakath, both physical and sociological. Manners, always with a capital ‘M’, must be adhered to no matter what the situation, not only by herself and by you, but by those around her. Those who display ill manners or for whom manners seem not to exist will quickly find themselves excised from her circle of friends, and you will find yourself scolded should you continue to attempt to associate with such riff-raff. When it is you who displays ill breeding, expect a quick lecture on proper etiquette. It is even possible, should your poor display of manners offend the wrong party, that you will be expected to write and deliver a note of apology - using all of the proper forms, of course!

Nothing but proper speech for Dzakath, no - slang is uncouth, curses are vulgar, and it is not she who has an accent (though she speaks with a drawl), but everyone else. « Darling, speak clearly. Do not couch it in such obscure terms, only a common layman could possibly understand what you are saying. » She is, however, quite fond of pet-names, most often the terms ‘darling’, ‘honey’, or ‘sweetheart’. At times she can lapse into a trail of adjectives that would put a Harper to shame. A string of descriptions that will often times have her listener forgetting what she was originally talking about.

« Dearest Charli, do you see that lady’s gown over there? It is as strong as the thunderclap you hear after the first brush of rain during the very first storm of the summer. Its fabric is the color of the fresh dew drops on the morning plants as the first rays of sun brush against the delicate tendrils of the fern on our ledge. She moves like a dancer who has returned to her lover’s embrace after time spent apart… » And so on, and on, and on. But there’s no rush, right? Why hurry through a perfectly good description? If you do try to hurry her along, there will be a soft snort and a gentle (if long) rebuke and discussion about why it’s impolite to interrupt.


Cleanliness had social power because it was a moral ideal and a standard of judgment. Being clean was valuable to those individuals who wanted to better their lives and who wanted to move out of the lower classes. Dirty hands, greasy clothes, offensive odors, and grime on the skin all entered into complex judgments about the social position of the dirty person and actually his or her moral worth. By the middle of the nineteenth century, among the middle class anyway, personal cleanliness ranked as a mark of moral superiority and dirtiness as a sign of degradation. Cleanliness indicated control, spiritual refinement, breeding; the unclean were vulgar, coarse, animalistic. A dirty person evoked one of the most powerful of social forces - scorn.

(Richard L. Bushman and Claudia L. Bushman, “The Early History of Cleanliness in America” in The Journal of American History, 1219-1230)

Cleanliness is next to Godliness, is how the saying goes, and though Pern has no religion, Dzakath might as well worship at the altar of the God of Clean. She must be immaculately scrubbed at all time. Her green hide must glisten with the most expensive oil (lightly scented with lavender and vanilla, if you please!), and the jewel-like accents that ring her throat and sweep across her wings must shine like the diamonds they resemble. And don’t think that keeping her clean - a full-time job if done right! - exempts you from being neat and tidy as well. No, your hair and clothing must be serviceable at all times, and should you engage in activities that cause you to become soiled, it is expected you will retire to the baths immediately afterward for a full soak and scrubbing. « Charli, darling, I know you were raised in a barn, but now you must put your past behind you. You have appearances to maintain! »

She’s also not above telling others what she feels of their hygiene, though of course, how she informs them that their lack of cleanliness depends on how she perceives their social standing. Rakshamanith, for instance, may receive the tart comment « Darling, I heard that mud baths are good for the skin, but only if you actually wash the mud off afterwards, », while Xhiyanth, who while not a ranking dragon, is, after all, her sire, may be prodded with the much more polite, if no less tart, « Sire Xhiyanth, perhaps you might consider a nice dip in the ocean. The scent of so much dirt depresses your natural musk, which is a much more becoming odor for you. » Don’t be surprised to find her cajoling weyrbrats into helping bathe her, either - after all, not only do you need help to keep her immaculately clean, but it might just clear some of the grime from them, as well.

While she is usually an unflappable dragon (« Anger is not becoming, my dear. ») no one is perfect and there will be times when her patience is tried. It is then that you will find the steel beneath your lovely magnolia. Her patience is long, but when the end of it has been reached it will be as if the ground beneath your feet has suddenly turned from warm Southern gentility to a sheet of ice, and you plunged beneath the surface. Her words will be biting and cold, like polished steel ringing against the stone of any who dares cross her. Just like any true lady, she is not a pushover and not tolerant of mistreatment. She is not one of those common greens who flicks her tail at whoever gives her a passing glance. No, she is cultured and should be treated as such, and any who do not give her the respect she so rightly deserves will find themselves cut off from all her warmth and generosity with a cold veil of silence. After a good tongue lashing, of course.

Another one of your Dzakath’s skills is her ability to insult. If she remembers afterwards she will be properly contrite ( « Ladies do not use such crass language. » ) but in the moment she can come up with some epic insults. She is far beyond ‘You, sir, are no gentleman.’ No, no. Your lovely, polite Lady green can curse up a storm with the best of them when her anger is truly piqued. Of course, she still does it with grace. No f-bombs here.

« I would expect such behavior from a night-blind wher. Perhaps your egg was switched on the Sands? I cannot believe you would do your dam and sire such a disservice otherwise! »

Icy cool and calm, Dzakath’s anger will never be a thing of tantrums and thrown crockery, but never the less, it will make itself known to any who see her or have the misfortune to taste her mind. Only you will be shielded from her rage, safe on your veranda while outside the tempest drives the grasses flat, shreds the leaves from the magnolias, and turns the sky black in its fury. Outwardly, however, she’ll be as collected as a lady must ever be, without even the slightest lash of a tail to express just how upset she is.

Your Dzkath is a strong lady, and not plagued by uncertainty. She carries herself confidently, and if indecision ever does strike her, she will come to you quietly for some advice. Often times she will hide behind her proper nature to veil her true feelings or worries from the rest of the world, and it will be up to you, Charli, to see beyond what she presents to get to the true needs within. Certainly, she will not hesitate to tell you when she needs a washing or an oiling, but when that dragon’s comment really got to her? She will not show it and you will have to be gentle as you pry back the petals of her thoughts to reach and heal the hurt within.

She will not be a dragon to rush headlong into things - be it lessons or a commitment. She prefers to sit back and watch first, so that when she tries she will be ready to do it flawlessly. Because of this she might seem careful or hesitant in her youth, when in reality she just loathes getting things wrong. During those rare times that she does make a misstep, she will be covered in shame, and will often look for the quickest and most polite opportunity to absent herself from the place where she embarrassed herself, swearing not to return. Of course, that flaw of draconic memory ensures that her little gaffe will be forgotten, even by her, within days of its occurrence. (If you’re ever looking for a spot of blackmail, “Dzakath, do you remember the time you spilled your oil on Gudrogoth’s hoard?” would probably work out great.)


Like any proper Lady, Dzakath will have hobbies, something to fill the time between duties and shopping. Your dragon will somehow have an interest piqued in gardening. Maybe she is admiring the forests, or the foliage of Ista. Maybe someone gives you a plant and you put it on your ledge. However it happens, at some point Dzakath will become absolutely enamored with gardening, and she simply must have a garden of her very own. Be it somewhere private on the island, or container gardening on your ledge (or both!), she will want to have growing things around her.

She will want seeds from all over, and she will want you to help her plant them. She will wonder why a High Reaches pine tree withers in Ista’s climate, while a Southern vine does amazingly well and creeps up the side of your ledge wall. She will want to try and grow everything, and with her memory she will probably try more than once.

« Look at that plant, Charli! See how slender it is, and look at those thorns. That is a plant who can defend itself. We must take one back to Ista. »
« It’s called a cactus, Dzakath. We tried to grow one last month, remember? It rotted. »
« Nonsense, dear, I certainly think I would have remembered such a thing. Get it! Careful of the thorns. Let us try. »

It’s best to humor her in these situations, as denying her one of her desired plants will only have her irritated and grouchy, throwing a small little fit like a spoiled child. So you will try, and it will fail, and she will be sad, and then things will continue as they always have.

Once she is pleased with her garden, she will want to invite other people and dragons to come see it. You might find yourself hosting many of these garden parties, complete with tea and various foods. All the better if the foods have come from the garden, so plant some berries and herbs so you can make jams and breads to accompany the tea.

Of course, to throw a proper party one must be well dressed, and that’s where another one of her hobbies comes into play. Shopping! Or, rather, having a Weaver come and dress you up like a little doll, until frill and lace and large skirts turn you into the lovely vision that Dzakath knows you can be. « Just /one/ more bow, Charli. The color really sets off your hair. »

This is one instance though where you might want to put your foot down. And if you do refuse to be dressed as she wishes, be prepared for some sulking, but she will always come around. « I suppose if you wish to wear those pants, that’s fine, but do make sure you trim that loose thread. » She loves you just the way you are, and though she might hold out hope that someday you will allow her to dress you; she will not press the issue too much, because you are her beloved Charli. As long as you look nice, the cut of your clothes doesn’t /really/ matter.


When Dzakath goes proddy it is a subtle thing. After all, a Lady doesn’t come right out and say, “Do me now,” now does she? She is far more subtle about it, and for the most part her behavior won’t change. She will still want to be freshly washed and oiled, her talons tended to and her teeth cleaned. Her leathers must be in tip-top shape, but that is nothing new for your green. What changes is her interaction with the males of the weyr. She does not flirt outright, but instead becomes more coy and coquettish. Teasing and hinting and toying with them in a light-hearted way. She will hint about favors, most often something physical, without actually coming out and asking for it. « That is a lovely flower down there, don’t you think? It would look so nice up here on my ledge. » Then she will simply wait to see who responds favorably. More credit is given to males who bring her favors without her asking it, though if they also bring with them an attitude she’ll be as irritated as ever.

« I brought you a wherry from the pens, Dzakath. »
« Oh, goodness, that was so delightfully sweet of you to do! »
« I know. Want to snuggle? »
« What? Certainly not! Away with you! No longer foul my ledge with the stench of your desperation. »

Her trip to the pens will be as polite as ever, though you might be surprised at how much she pushes you to eat the meat. It will take a strong will to keep her from those tasty morsels, and keep her to the blood that she needs to fuel her flight.

When she does rise it will be a delicate dance with her chasers. She will dart close and then swerve away like a formal waltz, but beneath that is a tango-like lust and desire, straining to burst out of her tightly closed doors of Properness and Decorum. Slowly, over the course of the flight, more desire will leak out and she will begin to shed that rigid formality like a Lady finally drops her gown for the object of her desire. Her rules will crumble at her feet and when the catch finally comes it will be with an explosion of lust. Your Dzakath will fully succumb to her feminine nature and wiles, and flights will always be a thing to behold.

Once the flight has ended, while the glow is still upon her, Dzakath will be more than happy to cuddle with the winner should he so desire. While she will not cling, a male who shows the proper respect for her and at least engages in a little post-coital affection will be well-remembered, even as the embarrassment of her wanton ways fades. However, the male who leaves her right afterwards will only infuriate her with his disregard for her feelings and needs, one of the few times you may see that spectacular temper in full fur-flying fury. Be prepared to take careful notes on which males she approves of and which she casts from grace.

After the glow has faded, of course, she will return to normal and perhaps be rather embarrassed about her display, but it will pass from her memory soon enough, leaving you with the only recollection of how much of a lusty temptress your green can truly be.


What Are You Doing the Rest Of Your Life?

-Music by Michel Legrand, Lyrics by Alan Bergman and Marilyn Bergman, Sung by Della Reese

What are you doing the rest of your life?
North and South and East and West of your life
I have only one request of your life
That you spend it all with me

All the seasons and the times of your days
All the nickels and the dimes of your days
Let the reasons and the rhymes of your days
All begin and end with me

I want to see your face in every kind of light
In the fields of dawn and the forests of the night
And when you stand before the candles on a cake
Oh, let me be the one to hear the silent wish you make

Those tomorrows waiting deep in your eyes
In the world of love that you keep in your eyes
I'll awaken what's asleep in your eyes
It may take a kiss or two

Through all of my life
Summer, Winter, Spring, and Fall of my life
All I ever will recall of my life
Is all of my life with you

Dragon: Dzakath
Colour: Green
Name: You!
Egg: That Ain’t Impossible Egg
Egg Desc: Arienne, SearchCo tweak
Dragonet: Song of the South Green Dragonet
Dragonet Desc: Sienna; T’sei-tweak
Messages: T’sei; Sienna-tweak
Inspiration: T’sei (Lead), Sadaiya, Sienna

Malachai’s Green Dzakath
Harper's Tale: 59th PC Clutch
Ista Weyr
Sadaiya’s Gold Jivayath and T’sei’s Bronze Xhiyanth
April 15th, 2011
Alys (Alyssa) and Green Rakshamanith
N’ayl(Lyzan) and Brown Gudrotgoth
Zari (Zaharis) and Green Ghwerigeth
Trek (Trekana) and Blue Kanyith
Kanga (Kangarru) and Brown Ruenalth

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