Nimooshin! N’shin - we loved having you here so much, we decided you just had to stay! You asked for someone confident, with a unique, quirky sense of humor. We found that in the character of Hawkeye Pierce from TV’s M*A*S*H, and did our best to tailor that to you, and to what you wanted. Glad to have you here! —S'ke, Sin and D'baji

Dragon: Pyragoth
Colour: Brown
Name: Sin, D’baji
Egg: Bad Color Egg
Egg Desc: Kanade
Dragonet: Lazy Afternoon Brown
Dragonet Desc: Sin
Messages: S’ke
Inspiration: Sin, D’baji, S’ke

The Bad Color Egg:

This egg has a woodsy color, patches of a forest loam brown broken by thin streaky of pale birch white and black specks and shriveled, rotten leaf tones, as if some mysterious hand had transposed a dead forest onto the surface of the egg and then broken it down to basic colors. Even the texture of the egg is unusual, a rough bark feel to the touch that seems like it could rub off onto the fingers. In an out of the way section of the egg, barely visible above the sands is a patch of bright red blooms amidst a dark soil-colored brown. There's something disturbingly ominous about that small patch of red, hidden away as it is, like it's something not to be spoken of.

Hatching Message:

The Bad Color Egg is rocking. It's rocking and swaying and shaking about, having a grand old time at this little party it's so glad to have been invited to. And then it stops, almost as if it's become bored with the proceedings - the egg is still and slowly, slowly develops a single solitary crack before splitting straight down the middle with a surgeon's precision and revealing its newly-hatched dragonet.

Lazy Afternoon Brown Dragonet:

A dragon long and lean, built upon lazy lines is he - rich mahogany trips over the easy cant of his head, rubbed dark over headknobs and expressive browridges. It lightens along the sun-kissed arch of his neck, catches light and dark against the reedy, wiry musculature of forelimbs and chest. His wings are wide, over-reaching; edged in olivine drab, their rich brown serves as canvas for a riot of color: patterns within chaos, vermilion over crimson, palest peach splashed with sangria's bloody glow. Along his haunches, only traces remain - dark red over dark, olive-tinted brown, smudged and forgotten in color's passage from head to tail. His tail is long, as well as deceptively agile - darker, shinier brown that none the less still bears the impression of being lightly dusted with dirt.

Impression Message:

Lazy Afternoon Brown Dragonet has taken his tour, perused his selections, gone through the pack, and has, for the most part, found nothing. They're all the same, these people in their white uniform, and sniffing candidate after candidate is proving fruitless - but wait! What's that over there? Could it be —? Suddenly diverting from his path and skyrocketing toward that Herder boy who's caught his attention, nearly barreling over a couple of others in the process.

Personal Impression Message:

It's a rapid intrusion, one unexpected and sudden and leaving you totally unprepared. The most unusual thing about it is the sound of horns, like fanfare, before a voice. « So, have you heard the one about the weyrling, the greenrider, and the fish? » The pause is short, long enough for the fanfare to fade and the sounds to soften, almost disappointed that you missed the joke. « Hey, kid — N'shin. The name's Pygaroth. They got anything to eat around here? »

Name Inspiration:

Pygaroth comes from the Latin 'pygargos', which is a kind of hawk or eagle. It fit your vowel-consonant-vowel-consonant pattern, as well as sounding something like a sneeze: Pygaroth! It can be pronounced either PIE-ga-roth, with a soft sort of ‘o’ sound, or pi-GA-roth, with a soft ‘i’ and a harder ‘o,’ sort of the way you pronounce the name 'Figaro.'

Egg Inspiration:

This is based on 'The Village' the movie by M. Night Shyamalan. It looked really folklore-esque to me, with a hint of a root in fairy-tales (ala Little Red Riding Hood) I really liked the movie and so I thought that it would make a good egg. It totally had me freaked out and the ending was so unexpected (or the revelation, anyway) —Kanade

Description Inspiration:

You gave us pretty much open range with this, so we took it and ran with it - Pygaroth is Hawkeye in dragon form. He will never be a bulky dragon, and for the most part he is an understated one: rich, dark browns with a sort of olive drab sheen to them. His coloring lightens some along his neck and chest, but not /much/ — more the transition from mahogany to cinnamon, like some stray shaft of afternoon sunlight just happened to light him up. His wings, though - when they’re furled, they just blend in with the rest of him, if a bit more green. Unfurled - well. Think Hawkeye’s Hawaiian shirts. They are a riot of oranges and reds and peaches, with a bit of dark, blood-bright pink. On close inspection, if the lighting is right and the mood takes you, some of the splotches might even blend together to look a little bit like garish, floral designs. It isn’t all fun and games, though - like blood from a hand wiped carelessly against a pantleg, some of the red still lingers past his wings.

There was no room to fit this into the description, so it’s something only you will know - along his jawline the color deepens, too. To most, it will just seem like shadows thrown by the light hitting his head, but it’ll always be a point of irritation for him, somewhere that he’ll need extra attention, generally at the end of the day. In a dragon, this translates to extra oiling, but were he human, it’d just be a 5 o’clock shadow.

Mind Voice:

Pygaroth’s voice is very much Alan Alda’s - both as Hawkeye, and later as the host of Scientific American Frontiers It is in the higher range of baritone, without being high enough to be tenor, but still a warm sort of voice. It is the kind of voice that wraps itself into your mind and commands attention. When he’s more manic, Pygaroth’s is a voice of joy: joy of discovery, joy of sensation, thoughts coming to you on excited bursts of color. He’ll use anything at his disposal: reds, yellows, greens, purples, pinks. Jewel tones, mostly, as bright and vibrant as they can be. As he grows more tired, or exasperated or annoyed at a situation, the colors will start to fade. First the brighter ones drop out: he’ll stop using reds, pinks, purples altogether. Then, as his voice takes on Hawkeye’s edge of perpetual exhaustion, any colors he still uses are greyed out - not faded, just … grey. Eventually everything takes on a sameness - olive drab predominates, with touches of grey or dirty yellow, and everything tastes a little bit more like dust.

[some wounded arrive at or around the middle of the night]
PA System Announcer: Attention, all personnel - this is your wake-up call.

If there is ever an urgent summons needed, all the color disappears and the quality of his voice changes: thoughts come in black and white, and his voice becomes tinny, as if piped across a poor-quality set of loudspeakers.

« Attention, all riders! Incoming wounded! Nvdoth and Qimath have collided during drills. All dragonhealers, report to the ground weyrs. Let’s get this party started, people. »

Pygaroth’s scent is primarily just that of hide, combined with the faintest hint of good-quality moonshine - what those boys -wished- was coming out of the still in the Swamp. It gets more pronounced when he’s off-duty, but is never overpowering. When he’s exhausted, though, his hide takes on the sour smell of bad mash, or the acrid tang of an alcoholic drying out. There’s nothing for you to do then but try to stay upwind, and make sure he gets plenty of sleep.


Pygaroth is built long and lean, but other than that, he is pretty much dead set average. He will never be one of those browns who could be bronze, nor would he want to be. He’s content to be just what he is: a middle of the road kind of guy.


Pygaroth is a dragon who plays hard and works harder; confident, brash, and a sometimes just a little bit too loud, his blatant disregard for rules and bureaucracy comes to an end the instant something bigger is on the line.

"Anger turned inward is depression. Anger turned sideways is Hawkeye." —Sidney Freedman

Hawkeye: War isn't Hell. War is war, and Hell is Hell. And of the two, war is a lot worse.
Father Mulcahy: How do you figure, Hawkeye?
Hawkeye: Easy, Father. Tell me, who goes to Hell?
Father Mulcahy: Sinners, I believe.
Hawkeye: Exactly. There are no innocent bystanders in Hell. War is chalk full of them - little kids, cripples, old ladies. In fact, except for some of the brass, almost everybody involved is an innocent bystander.

While Hawkeye’s anger was directed at the war, and the innocent (and sometimes not so innocent) casualties, Pygaroth’s comes from lack of it, in a sense - there is no more Thread to fight, and on some fundamental level Pygaroth -knows- that’s what he’s supposed to do. It’s unlikely that this will manifest itself while he is still in weyrlinghood - then, he’ll be too busy learning and growing into himself. Once graduation comes and things have calmed down a little, that’s when he’ll need to start looking for something to throw himself into, a ‘work’ to counterbalance the sense of ‘play’ that he will already have developed.

This is not to say that he is an angry dragon, so much as he is one who uses a sharp mind and a quick, eager wit to stay sane. Ish. To stay sane-ish. In situations where another might be inspired to violence, Pygaroth will turn their own words back on them, twisting them into some sort of humorous (but oh so pointed) barb.

Pygaroth is a maverick, and to many, all he will ever be is the sum of his attitude and his jokes. You, N’shin, will know better. At his core, Pygaroth cares more than he’ll ever let on. He will never be a leader, and will deny being a role-model - to him, he is not someone to be looked up to or emulated. For someone to do so would mean that when he fails, he is not the only one that gets hurt. (This is one of several reasons Pygaroth will never really be inclined toward ‘settling down’ with any one green or gold, for example.) This often manifests itself in a drive to push -you,- N’shin - he is not the father figure to be looked up to, but he is that mate at school, always pushing, always challenging what you think, what you know, what you do. He will certainly be a challenge to put up with, but there will be a joy in it, as well.

[as the surgeons operate on an eight-year-old Korean girl]
Col. Potter: Someone dropped a bomb on her building from an airplane.
Bomber Pilot: Who did it?
Hawkeye: He just dropped it. He didn't autograph it.
Bomber Pilot: Was it one of theirs or one of ours?
Hawkeye: What difference does it make?
Bomber Pilot: A lot. It makes a lot of difference.
Col. Potter: Not to her.

One of Hawkeye’s biggest issues with the war was its innocent victims. For Pygaroth, this translates into a shared love of babies - perhaps not Nimoo’s fascination with all things small and cuddly, but definite love none the less. It will be the underdog he roots for, the wronged child who he must protect. For all that he does not want to be seen as a role-model, you will often find him being the champion for some poor, unfortunate, lost soul. As the two of you grow older, watch out - he will especially champion the orphaned or abused. If you’re not careful, you might find yourself suddenly fostering some poor wretch with hardly a ‘by your leave’ from him. With the end of Threadfall, riders who continue to foist their offspring off on the nannies, or foster them away rather than raising them will be a particular sore spot, for him: they have the time, now, the resources - how can they just /abandon/ their children like that!

Hawkeye: It was the least I could do. I always do the least I can do.

Off-duty, Pygaroth is the embodiment of a lazy day afternoon. If there’s nothing pressing to be done, nothing urgently requiring his attention, Pygaroth is probably doing one of two things: sleeping, or lounging. Sleeping is, generally, just that - sleeping.

Hawkeye: No wonder they execute people at dawn. Who wants to live at six A.M.?

Hawkeye: Hello, bed. It's me, Captain Pierce. I'm coming in there.

Pygaroth loves his sleep. :)

Lounging, however, can really mean any number of things. From conspiring to short-sheet someone’s bunk (he’d need your help, for that one), to composing inappropriate ditties about N’ano’s inability to keep it in his pants to telling Iqiazath she has the charm of a dying cat, there will never be a dull moment, now that he’s here.

[to Margaret]
Hawkeye: Did anyone ever tell you, you have the voice of a songbird slowly drowning in tar?

Pygaroth is not a -funny- dragon, but he is a -witty- one. He is always listening, always waiting for an opportunity to take someone’s words and twist them. He will take the worst situation and turn it on its side - at his own, or anyone else’s expense.

[Hawkeye and B.J. had walked into the woods to try and find civilization]
B.J.: Just woods and more woods.
Hawkeye: I met a little girl with a basket for her grandma.
B.J.: Wearing a little red riding hood?
Hawkeye: Actually she was with seven little dwarfs.
B.J.: She's in the wrong woods.
Hawkeye: Or the wrong story.
Col. Potter: Are you finished, doctors?
Hawkeye: Are you…?
[B.J. nods]
Hawkeye: Yes.

Oh, and don’t forget:

Hawkeye: Insanity is just a state of mind.


Nurse #3: Does every new nurse fall in love with you here?
Hawkeye: Only the ones with taste.
Nurse #3: Do you think I have any?
Hawkeye: I don't know, let me taste you.

Hawkeye was never ill at ease with the ladies, and neither is Pygaroth. He'll keep his head during flights, enough to throw charmingly witty (if occasionally off-color) comments to the green he's chasing, all the while berating his competitors, and looking for the edge that will wind up with him catching.

You'll notice we only mentioned the greens. This is because Pygaroth will prefer them. He likes especially to chase the dragons he hasn't yet gone up after, or at least hasn't caught, and he's not looking for the long-term commitment on the Sands that would go along with being clutch daddy. This isn't to say that Pygaroth won't chase golds - the novelty of it will be guaranteed to have him up after them. However, partway through the flight he'll probably decide he's not so interested, and lag just behind enough that he can still toss his comments, without too much danger of catching. If he -does- catch a gold, it will be by freak chance alone. He will stay on the Sands if she wants him around, and help her guard the eggs. He kind of likes babies, and they would be his babies. However, this may discourage him from going after another gold in the near future.

As we mentioned, Pygaroth will prefer those greens he hasn't chased and/or conquered yet. He likes the new blood, and will never 'settle down' with just one dragon (as much as dragons can settle down, that is). He also won't much like if the green he catches wants him to stay around for much longer than the day after. It's not that he's fickle, just that the novelty will have worn off by then, and that's really what drives him to chase so often in the first place.

[Hawkeye's making out with one of the nurses]
Nurse #1: Hawkeye?
Hawkeye: Huh?
Nurse #1: Tell me the truth. Do you respect me?
Hawkeye: Do I respect the flag? Apple pie? Hamburgers? The loyalty of a fine dog?
Nurse #1: That's all I wanted to know.
[they continue making out]

Pygaroth will naturally know how to use his own specific talents to catch, and you'll probably find that he'll be catching a lot, especially after he's had the experience of the his first three or four chases. N'shin, you'd best get used to flights pretty quick. As soon as he's old enough (and he'll probably try before some other dragons in his clutch), he'll be up and at them. All.

Harper's Tale's 45th PC Clutch

Ista Weyr
Sorcha's gold Madigyth and R'lar's bronze Cojiroth
August 20th, 2006

Tessa's green Nvdoth
Nalla's green Qimath
Lanti's gold Dedanseth

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