JCFoxington » Clan | Lair | Nesting Grounds

JCFoxington's Clan

i want this twink obliterated (it's me, im the twink)

Venerable Lair

of the

Highland Scrub

Clan Info

- call me Jax, JC, Fox, or Blint
- he/they pronouns
- 22 yrs old transmasc enby
- nd, disabled & danish
- wishlist
- projects
- panrom / aceflux / polyam
- hobby artist & writer

Within a ravine bordering closely to the cliffs of Sunbeam Ruins and the chasms of Carrion Canyon, a mismatch group of five sought safety in a cave; Rajin and Rosennal, along with the latter's son Malik, there only to start a life outside the control of their previous clan; Viola and Leonia, survivors of a clan at the Reclaimer's Glacier collapsing. The cave was a safe-place during a terrible storm that had left Leonia and Viola cold to the bone, and frazzled and bruised. They had taken the early signs of the storm for granted, marching on despite the crackling clouds that all Lightning flight dragons would know to mean a storm bad enough to tear down mountains.

When the two finally managed to find a cave - the cave - Rajin, Rosennal, and Malik were already there. Rosennal ushered them in, while Rajin fed wood to grow the fire and Malik found blankets and canteens of water to give Viola and Leonia. They shared their supplies and their warmth, telling each their story of how they ended up there and why. They huddled together for safety, refuge and shelter for eleven stormy, horrible days, resources spread thin.

By the time the storm had passed, Rajin felt she could not responsibly or in good conscience let Viola and Leonia keep travelling on their own with no goal in mind. 'You really are cursed with sentimental, overprotective Guardian genes, huh?' Malik had said, no hint of jest in the words that, in any other situation, would have been said with a laugh, hidden or not. Regardless, Rosennal smiled wistfully and bumped his shoulder with Rajin's before spreading his wings and taking off, leaving the mouth of the cave behind to trail the silhouettes they'd been watching get smaller and smaller.

The following days, the five of them scouted for locations, gathered resources, camped out in inconvenient places, and had several accidental whole-body dunks at the edge of the Tsunami Flats. As the days went on, Viola and Leonia became less and less unsure, slowly coming out of each their shell to the other three; the other three who, despite knowing Viola was Water flight and Leonia Ice flight, were severely taken aback by just how much they were naturally drawn towards the Sea of a Thousand Currents. Malik, specifically, thought it quite amusing how determined they both were to get as far, far away from the Ashfall Wastes as possible, even though neither were fully aware of it.

After three months, one week, and six days had gone by, the five of them began constructing the entrance to a burrow. It was located in the north of the Highland Scrub, nestled into the shady crook of a ravine only a few minutes by flight from the borders of the Sea of a Thousand Currents and the Sunbeam Ruins.

A couple of days after construction began, a bogsneak named Thanash came carrying fresh wood logs from the Viridian Labyrinth. His greeting to the Lightning flight folks was gentle, kind in a way only deep, low-volume, and warm voices can manage to be. Soft like how the mind imagines clouds, smooth like silk, and sweet like honey, an undercurrent of curry and spice and shadow and gravel. The things he's seen have crept into his voice, left poisoned spots within its depths, just like they've done to his mind.

What really spoke to Rajin and Rosennal's hearts, though, was how Viola and Leonia greeted him; he bowed his head and they nuzzled his neck, his fins vibrating with joy. No words were exchanged, yet their care for each other was still palpable from the way they curl into each other, Thanash's tail and long body tugging around Viola and Leonia. None of them needed to ask for him to be offered a permanent place among their little group.

At night, around the fire, Thanash would tell stories about his old clans, previous hunts and parties, friends he used to have; stories of the lives he used to have but never about how they ended.

It's Malik who broke his shell. Little by little, Thanash let him whittle away at his walls. Because, when a child asked about the 'why's and the 'how's or the 'what's of certain things, he couldn't bear to give them the regular bullshitted half-truth or full-lie that he gave other adults. No, children he gave the truth, albeit a watered down version, heavily simplified, and focused on the good details. So, if a child committed themself to figure out all the little ugly nooks and crannies of every scar by asking all the right questions - and a good bunch of wrong ones, and a whole lot of ones that don't particularly matter and that Thanash was simply indifferent towards - they would eventually succeed, if stubborn enough.

Malik was stubborn enough. More than, really. By the time the initial resting burrow has been dug, Thanash has shared most of his life with Malik and had begun opening up properly to Rajin and Rosennal. Thanash began sharing stories of his life during war with dragon and beast clans, scavenging hunts that had him and the rest of the party stuck in tombs or reawakening old horrors and spells, that time he was stuck in a swamp for three weeks, and all the grimy things he had experienced throughout his travels across the world; but only the things that are funny in hindsight, despite the pain and anguish.

One evening, after Thanash retired to the realm of sleep early, Rosennal and Rajin asked Leonia and Viola for clarification. Thanash had told them of a Windsinger Clan that he had never been welcome in but visited regularly regardless. He had been in his early twenties, young and bold and reckless, and the those particular children of the Wind had attracted trouble like moths to a lamp.

"He seemed so happy, talking about them," said Rosennal, his eyes trained on the bright, glossy fins down Thanash's neck, "but in such a... morose way. We've seen him revisiting old griefs and mourn the loss of people and things long gone but never like this."

"Bitter." Rajin's voice was stern. A frown had settled deep into her face, her worry and concern loud and clear. "He's bitter about the whole damn thing. Why?"

There was silence, for a little while. Then, Viola sighed heavily and said: "It's not our story to tell."

There's a huff and a shuffle of tiny legs and wings. Malik's head popped out from beneath Rosennal's left wing and the cozy little cave it created for Malik to snuggle comfortably in.

"The clan chief was his father," he said, knowing Thanash's story of rebellious youth, reckless festival joys, and accidental, unfortunate dangers would take up a whole new meaning. A father, controlling and demeaning, unable to accept the consequences of his unjust actions, leaving a clan in ruins and hoping the fires would kill his son.

Rosennal swallowed thickly. "Oh."

From then on, Rosennal and Rajin made a habit of taking Thanash with them out on their hunts.

Before, gathering had always been done individually, groups ever only assembled when the needed resources called for it. Mornings were spent organizing and dividing the day's tasks according to each individual's specialty, what the clan and den needed as a whole, every dragons' own wants and needs, and how each dragon was feeling.

Now, the method used was gathering in a single team of three; who's on it rotates daily, so each adult had three days gathering and then two days off. It wasn't necessarily more efficient, but it did leave more free-time, which everyone's always happy for and consequentially increases everyone's morale. If some of them - namely, Viola - used some of their free-time to gather on their own, that's their choice.

When the main hall had been fully fleshed out, with pillars and ceiling lights and torches in the corners and four firepits for warmth, the six of them sat around the fire to feast. There was banter and laughter and jokes and joy, but eventually the conversation diverges to the future plans for the den.

Up until then, the plan had simply been to create a den, a home, only for their little family. But their resources had grown beyond what they alone could reasonably use, a few passerby had already complimented and shown interest in the den, and twice they found a dragon needing help and a safe space to recover while out gathering. Malik was the one to suggest expanding into a lair and settling roots as a clan.

For two weeks, they thought it over and discussed it. How to manage it, what the inner workings of their little society would be like, the layout plans for the lair. Whether they wanted to be a clan or not.

In the end, they settled on establishing a hotel / inn-like service and expanding their little family to a full clan - not that they could really be a 'full' clan yet, only being six people, after all - but that's what the inn is for. People can come and go as they wish, filling the empty-feeling space in the halls.

The former everything-den was turned into a main hall, reception, and communal quarters. At the end opposite the staircase seven chairs of stone and wood, thread and fabric woven into them are built. They're ornate, but now overbearing or flashy, comfortable without being anymore comfortable than the other seats in the hall. They're the seven thrones of the clan, belonging to the seven leaders; the six them knew democracy had to be how the clan was ruled, though still recognized they'd need go-to leaders in emergencies. A council of seven, decided by the permanent residents of the clan, became the chosen middle ground.

Of the original six, Rajin, Rosennal, Leonia, and Thanash became the holders of the first, second, third, and fourth throne, respectively. Viola had been offered one as well, and Malik was too young for the responsibility. Viola refused the throne with the smallest smile to have ever graced her face, her blue eyes sparkling with unshed tears and currents of darkness.

She feels responsible,' Leonia would explain later, when Viola is out of ear-shot, 'For what happened to our previous clan. She cannot bear the title or responsibility of leadership right now, and might possibly never be able to.'

Thanash simply nodded, yet, with his enormous head and fins, it felt like a rumbling in the still unsteady ground of the halls. That was all it took to silence even Rosennal and his ever-working mouth.

Six corridors were dug from the main hall; living quarters for permanent residents, underground garden with alters to each deity for when you need peace and quiet, and kitchen on the left side; living quarters for temporary residents, nesting grounds and everything else hatchlings, like teaching areas and playrooms, and learning, training and crafting quarters on the right side. Behind the thrones, a second room is dug. There, an archive and library was built.

Despite the three of them having their own space within the permanent residents living quarters, Thanash and Rosennal still prefer sleeping in the main hall, and Viola decided to sleep within the garden. Thus, living quarters for priests and diplomats were made in the corridor, with plans for ones within the walls of the garden itself if the need ever arises.

Malik, for a while, and still sometimes, slept with Rosennal and Thanash in the main hall. He has his own living space in the everything-hatchlings quarters where he sleeps most of the time, though often not without Leonia. Not long after, she moved her own quarters to the everything-hatchlings corridor, far preferring the company of children and eggs when resting, and saying a caretaker will have to be nearby at all time regardless, anyway. Leonia was more than happy to take up that job.

When they had all gotten comfortable, Rajin had laughed and said 'Good thing others will most likely settle down with us, huh?', being all alone to sleep in the permanent resident living quarters.

And that is where the adventures and experiences of expanding Clan Softmoore begin.

personal notes for dragons i havent gotten yet

iyad || mtnb banescale, they/them/it/its, second generation, somethingsomething shadowflame, bookworm, sculpter.
esben "eshcool" ericsson || homosexual male fae, he/him, sixth throne of the brood, tailor, amnesiac, ice & light sorcerer, healer, older brother.
regem || ftm imperial, he/him, fifth throne of the brood, arcane soldier, ( dragon version of fbi / cia / interpol ) health specialist agent, field medic, twin of nostradamus.
bob wasovski || trans-masc nb ridgeback, he/him/they/them, lightning primal, chronically ill, corrupt magic, bartender.
norman || bisexual male gaoler, he/him, ice, seeker order, former fifth throne of the brood, dead.
almog || male imperial, he/him, arcane sorcerer, farmer, blooberri's foster dad.
eloise || female skydancer, she/her/they/them, plague multigazer, orphaned because she was born a mutant, child at heart, observant & intelligent but lacks common social knowledge.
farmer person || ftnb, they/them, earth nocturne, butterfly wings, gentle & smiles a lot, selectively nonverbal.
floyd || mtnb lightning ridgeback, they/them, soldier who really wants to stop fighting, former rebel leader, seventh throne of the brood, silent and broody and unintentionally scary-looking, huge softie, nonverbal.
isaak ericsson || male ice veilspun, he/him/they/them, dead, younger brother, photographer, asexual.
coalton || female plague mirror, she/her, aromantic, fun & energetic, baker, bit of a punk, musically creative.
celuna || female arcane coatl, she/her/they/them, gembond doctor and specialist.