Pulse

ABOUT PULSE
Quiet and dignified, these are the words that come to mind when one enters the Clan's Archives. Perhaps Lightning dragons are not as famed as the scholars of Light and Arcane, but they still take pride in their talents, and these are the Halls of Innovation and Science. Here in the airy front rooms, tools and inventions are kept safe in ornate glass cases and displayed prominently. Visitors are invited to walk (light footfalls only please) between the evenly spaced display to look at the little (neatly inscribe as per regulations) cards. These would (accurately!) detail the hows, whys, whens, wheres, and whos of each little tool or invention educating any and all-

"Ouch! Ouch! Ouch! Ouch! Ow!"

Educating any and all who wish to broaden their horizons. Navigation through the Archives is a breeze as thanks to the impeccable (and very organized!) pulley system as visitors won't have to traverse the wall to wall stacks. However, for visitors who have the time on their hands and need not go right back to work to meet deadlines, it is highly recommended that they take the time to explore. All of the scrolls in the Archives are (very stringently) kept up to date and treated with chemicals that not only prevent rot or fade but always give off a fresh and effervescent scent, like the Tempest Spire after being struck by a particularly hearty bolt of lightning! Incidentally-

"Stormcatcher's fins! Where in the world is that quill?!"

Incidentally, the duplication of such a scent is-

There was a crash, and the high pitched prolonged screech of furniture dragging over the marble floor. The tour guide refrained from smacking her head against the wall and instead gave her guests a wide grin. She is about to usher them away into the stacks, but there are more crashes and booms and a worrying bang, and she reaches a clawed hand over to open the door of a small side room. The sight that greets her makes her sigh, and she hears the soft twittering laughter from the guests who have peeked in through the ridges that line her spine.

"Sir...Sir Scribe?" She coughs to get the Spiral's attention, but he's tangled up under tables and chairs still grumbling about a lost quill. There were pieces of parchment all over the floor. Judging from the amount of stationary there was on the table the scribe had started out with ambitions of being organized and prepared. "Sir? Sir...? Pulse!" This time the guide's voice was more forceful, and she was successful in catching his attention. Startled, the Spiral struggled to scramble out from under tables but was woefully unsuccessful. His large, shadow purple eyes stared at the guide and the curious visitors as she coughed and pointed to the chain around one of his wrists. From that chain, a quill dangled.

"Oh. Oh." When it came, the Spiral's smile was grateful but sheepish. "Thank you and welcome to the Archives every one. Now, could I get a bit of help untangling myself, please?"

~

Spending his youth in the dark and inky tangles of the Driftwood Drag, Pulse was a hatchling that was, from the very start, drawn towards the Light. His was a Clan comprised exclusively of Spirals who made their home in the rotted and hollow trees that lined the river delta. Instead of being wary of travelers, the Clan welcomed merchants and vagabonds alike offering them shelter though subjecting them to (mostly harmless) tricks. Though they were few and far between Pulse was drawn to Light dragon merchants, and became fascinated with their love of learning. His parents, sensing that there was more for Pulse encouraged him. When he came of age, Pulse left with a Light caravan, eager to begin his new life.

What he found instead was not the perfect fit that he was expecting. While Pulse would always be grateful to his first teachers, he quickly found that life in the Sunbeam Ruins was stagnant. Though there was a much he could learn, Pulse yearned for change and progress, his gaze caught and drawn by the shifting and vibrant lightning storms to the East. With the leave of his hosts, Pulse resumed his journey and found a home with a Clan that resided near the Tempest Spire, heart of the Stormcatcher's realm.

Now a scribe working for the Clan's Archives, Pulse, unfortunately, is the center of many jokes. He is as constant as his name suggests with the penchant of his species to always be on the move. While capable of multitasking thanks to his innate hyperactive nature, Pulse often gets lost or fails utterly in doing so as these same inclinations make it difficult for him to focus. Pulse can be forgetful and is known to become agitated when trying to recall something that has slipped his mind leading him into comical mishaps. Despite his inherent unruly nature, however, Pulse is determined to be organized. His mind is just as attuned to innovation as any dragon born into the Lightning Flight, and Pulse has devised a system to keep himself in check. However, said system is still under heavy testing, and he ends up with varying results. Pulse is not daunted, however, as he is a firm believer that little failures only add up to big success. Every fall and every spill, every misplaced scroll, and forgotten quill makes him more determined to be better.

Credit: ♥



Credit: ♥