Cowardly Curageous Hunter of Most of the Darkness Brown Tzehrenvictoth

Dragon Description

Big and broad, there is surely not doubt that this is a proud dragon. Deep mahogany surrounds the rear half of this glorious gentleman, stretched almost over-tight over the broad muscles of his hindlimbs, rump, and tail. So tight, in fact, that the hide there seems to almost sheen, having only the minimal give in his flesh to allow him proper range of motion. In stark contrast, his upper half is wrapped in a pale almost-beige, deeper umber misting over it like fog accented here and there with smooth, swirling wisps of ashy grey that seem to cling to his joints and wing bones, fading to less than two fingerspans of an almost lurid green at the very tips of each wingfinger. His forepaws look as if they were dipped in gold, copper, and silver paint before being tipped up and allowed to wind and twist around his arms from claws of purest cromcoal into fading fiery sleeves that end in wispy tendrils by his elbows. His snout is somewhat short, not quite snubnosed, but more gracile than much of the rest of him with smooth eyeridges that blend easily into delicate headknobs and a deliciously rounded maw, the very tip of his snout again dipped in deep, lurid green. Wingsails of blackest night billow dramatically between spars, dramatically loose but still firm enough to hold his weight in flight. The light absorbed by these thickly painted sails is matched only by the deeper than deep black of his head, neck, back and tailridges, cutting an awkward dotted line along his spine and down his thin, dextrous tail and ending with a small burst of black dots along his tailfork.


Egg Name and Description

Hunters Little Box of Implements Egg

Thick, supple tones of brown and sepia form a subtle form on the lower half of this squat, almost square egg. Deeper tones cut through it in dark whorls and spirals, lighter tones cutting an almost glittery counterpoint. Around the exact middle of the egg runs a strip of pewter three fingers thick, shadowed beneath to give the vague impression that the ring of pewter stands out from the surface of the egg. Evenly spaced along that band of pewter are small ‘t’s of dark, burnished onyx that glitters slightly like stones set into the metal band. Above the pewter is a series of shapes. Larger ‘t’s nestled in amids the vague outlines of bottles filled with clear liquid. Beige labels with the same simple t-shape and words in darker beige tones: Holy Water.


Hatching Message

Hunter’s Little Box of Implements Egg gives a little shake, rocking back and forth, back and forth and back and, ooop, went still again.

Hunter’s Little Box of Implements Egg spins and whirls and twirls before coming to a stop with a sudden CRACK! Sadly, its occupant is still hidden within.

Hunter’s Little Box of Implements Egg just can’t stop moving. Give a little shimmy, give a little shake. If eggs could breath fire, this one certainly would. Instead, it seems to breath dragons as its occupant bursts forth and strikes a gallant pose.


Hatchling Name and Description

Cowardly Curageous Hunter of Most of the Darkness Brown Hatchling

Big and broad, there is surely not doubt that this is a proud dragon. Deep mahogany surrounds the rear half of this glorious gentleman, stretched almost over-tight over the broad muscles of his hindlimbs, rump, and tail. So tight, in fact, that the hide there seems to almost sheen, having only the minimal give in his flesh to allow him proper range of motion. In stark contrast, his upper half is wrapped in a pale almost-beige, deeper umber misting over it like fog accented here and there with smooth, swirling wisps of ashy grey that seem to cling to his joints and wing bones, fading to less than two fingerspans of an almost lurid green at the very tips of each wingfinger. His forepaws look as if they were dipped in gold, copper, and silver paint before being tipped up and allowed to wind and twist around his arms from claws of purest cromcoal into fading fiery sleeves that end in wispy tendrils by his elbows. His snout is somewhat short, not quite snubnosed, but more gracile than much of the rest of him with smooth eyeridges that blend easily into delicate headknobs and a deliciously rounded maw, the very tip of his snout again dipped in deep, lurid green. Wingsails of blackest night billow dramatically between spars, dramatically loose but still firm enough to hold his weight in flight. The light absorbed by these thickly painted sails is matched only by the deeper than deep black of his head, neck, back and tailridges, cutting an awkward dotted line along his spine and down his thin, dextrous tail and ending with a small burst of black dots along his tailfork.


Colorless Hatchling Name and Description

Squeaky Squeaky These Pants are Too Tight Hatchling

Big and broad, there is surely not doubt that this is a proud dragon. Deep tones surround the rear half of this glorious specimen, stretched almost over-tight over the broad muscles of their hindlimbs, rump, and tail. So tight, in fact, that the hide there seems to almost sheen, having only the minimal give in the flesh to allow proper range of motion and its gait is reminiscent of one unpleasantly contained by their pantaloons. In stark contrast, its upper half is wrapped in a pale almost-white, deeper tones misting over it like fog accented here and there with smooth, swirling wisps of ashy grey that seem to cling to its joints and wing bones, fading to less than two fingerspans of an almost vibrant white at the very tips of each wingfinger. The forepaws look as if they were dipped in multiple shades of metallic paint before being tipped up and allowed to wind and twist around its arms from claws of purest cromcoal into fading sleeves that end in wispy tendrils by its elbows. The snout is somewhat short, not quite snubnosed, but more gracile than much of the rest of him with smooth eyeridges that blend easily into delicate headknobs and a deliciously rounded maw, the very tip of the snout again dipped in bright, vibrant white. Wingsails of blackest night billow dramatically between spars, dramatically loose but still firm enough to hold its weight in flight. The light absorbed by these thickly painted sails is matched only by the deeper than deep black of the head, neck, back and tailridges, cutting an awkward dotted line along the spine and down its thin, dextrous tail and ending with a small burst of black dots along the tailfork.


Impression Message

The thick scent of booze surrounds you, the soft kiss of leather totally cutting off the heated press of the sands and the cries of the crowd as the eyes that tower over yours take up all of your vision. No words, no words at all, just the subtle waft of booze-breath and a contented sigh. Not unlike when you touched his egg, there’s a rifling through your memories, one last double-check before the booze blooms and deepens, the leather caressing your skin, « Oh yes, this will do nicely. Come with me, J’me, it’s time to face the world together. » There’s a sense of retreating before it returns full force, « Oh, my name is Tzehrenvictoth, by the way. Mark it, for it will be famous some day. » Then it retreats enough to let the sands come back into view.


Mindvoice Name and Description

Supple Leather and Alcohol

Tzehrenvictoth’s mind is pleasant, almost cloying. Not a visual dragon by nature, he communicates in word and sensation. When he truly encompasses another mind, it’s all darkness, smell, and touch. The ‘flavor’ of alcohol will change with his mood, harsher spirits when he’s angry and smoother ones when he’s pleased, but always liquor, never girly drinks or mere beer or ale. Tzehrenvictoth is a dragon who enjoys the stronger stuff. The sense of leather is ever-present in his mind, rarely more than a caress or a mental hug, though it can lash out viciously when provoked.

Touches

Supple Leather and Alcohol reveals itself with a flourish of bright light and an enveloping darkness, soft like well-tanned leather and mixed with just a hint of acridity. Fire and soot and something more. Something sweet and cloying, like a brewer’s cellar after a spill, all those different years and flavors mixing together into something simultaneously sweet and foul. And the presence that rides these feelings is both dismissive and intrigued as it begins to wander through your mind, examining your memories like postcards, keeping some, tossing others aside. Yes yes, childhood, very nice. Oh, look, young love. That one is tossed aside without a second thought and a bright burst of more of the alcohol smell. Goals, dreams… wait. WHAT? What? Alcohol splashes into your face! It’s not possible! Not possible!

Supple Leather and Alcohol returns with obvious trepidation. You again? What do /you/ want? Didn’t it make it clear I couldn’t help you??? The plush leather feel tightens around you, accompanied by a few bright flashes of light and the sweet, brief kiss of fire. You’re still here? Hrm. Then perhaps, perhaps. Can you really conquer your fears? Reach your dreams? Face your sorrows? Can you stop all of the evil in the world? Again there’s that sense of it rifling through your memories and your dreams, bringing forth your darkest memory and playing it like a video before, because I can’t! And it flees, leaving you alone, though there’s a sense of it still watching you for a long moment before it finally fades from your mind.

Supple Leather and Alcohol erupts with a burst of boozy smell and consternation. You again? Okay. Let’s do this! The supple caress of leather surrounds you again, this time with more comfort and support, less pansy screaming. Ch-chick! It’s ready to go. Strength and warmth surround you, pushing you forward, onward, upward. It’s time to reach those dreams and defeat the evil. What evil? How can you not know that!?! That’s what brought us together in the first place. /All/ the evil! Then we’ll make a name for ourselves. But now it is time to rest and prepare for the assault. Don’t worry, together we can save the world.

Supple Leather and Alcohol returns with a soft, snoozy sense of boozy stupor, wotcher? Naw. We’re good. Totally won. Don’t do nothin’ I wouldn’t do. That doesn’t narrow it down much. That’s, like, sushi and mini golf.


Inspiration

Welcome to Weyrlinghood here at Eastern, J’me! We just loved you to pieces and are so glad to be able to welcome you to the ranks of Eastern riders.

The theme for this clutch was classic films and their remakes and Hunter’s Little Box of Implements Egg and its occupant were based on Fright Night, more specifically the more experienced voice of knowledge: Peter Vincent. In the original film, Vincent was a television star whose show had recently been cancelled and who didn’t even believe in vampires until he couldn’t deny the evidence in front of him, but he knuckled up when it was necessary, helping save the day. In the remake, he is a star of the Las Vegas theater industry, a stage magician with a broody past. Played by David Tennant, he is the primary inspiration for touches and dragon.

And a name, oh, what’s in a name? The Tz is in homage to his sire and dam and a bit of a naming theme for the clutch to include it. Tzehrenvictoth is a mix of a few bits of one of the many, many German words for vampire and Peter Vincent’s name.

As a reminder, all of the rptips and such are merely guidelines, we hope you enjoy your dragon and your time here at Eastern.

The Few, The Proud, The Eastern!


Personality (RP Tips)

Announcer: Defy reason. Defy everything you know. A mind blowing experience of the occult and supernatural. Peter Vincent. A magical tour de force. Peter Vincent. Welcome to Fright Night. Onstage at the Hard Rock Hotel and Casino in Las Vegas.

Tzehrenvictoth is hardly your average dragon, always yearning for the stage, he loves to entertain and put on a show. His goal isn’t necessarily to bring a smile, though, he wants to astound and amaze! He wants his accolades and he wants his audience in awe of him. It makes up for his own insecurities, things only J’me will know about.

Charley Brewster: You think if you live and we all die, you'll be able to get us out of your head?
Peter Vincent: No, I know I won't. I never could after the first time. So I told myself that I made it up. I was a kid. Figured it was easier to believe in monsters.
Charley Brewster: Made what up?
Peter Vincent: The vampire that killed my parents, but not me. You think I collected all this stuff because it was bitching?

No matter how clear it is that Tzavayth and Tzettenvonth are Tzehrenvictoth’s sire and dam, he’ll never fully accept it. He’s adopted! He doesn’t like vampires and that’s what Tzavayth is. Worse, he’ll never trust her and will at times actively shun her presence, especially when she’s doing truly vampirey things like drinking blood. Despite his enjoyment of flights, he’ll never chase a vampire and if he finds himself in competition with a vampire, tha twill be the male he specifically endeavors to overcome. Dragons rule, vampires drool!

Peter Vincent: Ginger, we got a delivery.
Ginger: I'm watching my program! You get it!
Peter Vincent: You're TiVo-ing it, you lazy cow!

Also, he really has no great desire to motivate himself if he can get someone to do it for him, just like his mother. If J’me doesn’t force him to do for himself, she may find her firelizards constantly employed in his errands and desires while he rarely rises from his couch.

Peter Vincent: I guess I don't want to be a man like me either. *opens his jacket to reveal vampire-killing gear he's strapped to himself* Lets kill something..

When he does put his mind to something, though, he will do it to the extreme of his talent. He won’t always be proud of what he’s done, but he will have done it with verve! Whether it’s a specific female he wishes to woo or a desire to be wingleader, he’ll put his all into each and every moment.

Ginger: No, no. Don't touch anything. He's PMS-y today. Sensitive little girl. Over there, that's haunted antiques. Cursed stuff! And that's… that's Peter's honorary degree from LVSU. But he got it off the internet.

Tzehrenvictoth is not the most politic brown. In fact, he’s pretty crass. And the best part? He just doesn’t care! In fact, he /loves/ to be crass. The shocked and insulted looks he gets. They warm his heart and help fill the holes in his psyche. One of his clutchmates fails their first hunt? They’ll hear about it until /he/ forgets about it.

Peter Vincent: Leather, it doesn't breathe, you know? Fucking rashes are fucking killing me!

Tzehrenvictoth has one real flaw and that’s his hide. No matter how much oil J’me uses on her life mate, he’ll always be just a little itchy and there will always be places that just aren’t quite oiled enough, or so he’ll think.

Peter Vincent: I'm a great date. Get me drunk, and I'll try anything.

He also has a taste for alcohol. It’s not just part of his mindscape, he loves it. From his first taste, it will be a challenge to keep him from raiding the brewers’ kegs for himself. Beer, ale, whiskey, whatever it is, he’ll take it, though he’ll favor the stronger spirits once he knows them.

Peter Vincent: Where’s the fire? It’s supposed to be a fireball, not dribbling fucking smoke!

Tzehrenvictoth loves him some fire. Unlike many dragons, he’ll have no trouble managing to produce and control his flame, On the flip side, he’s likely to raid the firestone stores early. He’ll get in trouble with it, but he’ll just be glad to play with FIRE!

Jerry: You have your mother's eyes.
Peter Vincent: *shoots and misses*
Jerry: And your father’s aim

He does have this one teeny weeny, teensy tiny problem when it comes to flight, though. He tends to miss, whether it’s a female midsky or a buck on the ground, it usually takes at least a couple of tries to snag his quarry. It’s not that he can’t catch what he’s after, but he tends to get over-excited and miss or catch the wrong angle.

Peter Vincent: Don't do anything I wouldn't do. That doesn't narrow it down. That's like, mini-golf and sushi.

He does like him the ladies, though, oh yes he does. Any lady, every lady. It’s all about the ladies, really. Green or gold, young or old, he’ll chase. He doesn’t care so much about any children he may or may not spawn, but he enjoys the thrill of the chase and the glorious wonder of the catch.


Credits

Name Tzehrenvictoth
Dam Tzavayth
Sire Tzettenvonth
Created By Fi
Impress To Jaireme (J’me)
Hatched 18 November 2012
Eastern Weyr
PernWorld MUSH
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