Myrtle

Even as a hatchling, Myrtle was noticeably different from other Wind dragons. Many were laidback and had an open personality; Myrtle was nearly the complete opposite. 'Cold' and 'seemingly annoyed at the world' were phrases commonly tossed around by others, as a way to describe her.

It wasn't that Myrtle couldn't love. She just didn't know how to express herself. And soon, these words became a part of her, and became who she is.

At least, until she left.

Each clan she visited called her similar things, some even going as far as to say she was a scary being; and Myrtle was shunned by many. Soon, words of a 'wicked wanderer' spread among the community, and travelers brought the word of this 'evil entity' across the world. The rumors grew worse, simply because imagination knew no end; and nobody knew about Myrtle for she only kept to herself.

Children, on the other hand, found her intriguing. Behind their parents ' watch, the children would flock around Myrtle at sunset, where her wings shone beautiful against the evening glow, and watch her frolic elegantly in the sky. Myrtle would never admit it, but the faces full of wonder and amazement radiating from the children made her smile. She can’t exactly pinpoint why this is, she wouldn’t couldn’t change it. Child-like innocence, which was stolen from Myrtle as she grew up, was what she wanted to preserve and cherish.

Similarly to her soft spot for children, Myrtle refuses to let someone be left out, even if she doesn't have the best communication or social skills to do so. While she might verbally push others away, she would often send them away with a gift.

"It's not being nice." She would often say. "I hope to never see you again."

Yet, seeing their happy tails wag with a hop in their step as they leave her be, made Myrtle feel warm inside.

All in all, Myrtle is much kinder than she initially seems to be, even if she doesn't show it.

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Myrtle is roughly 19 human years. She has light purple hair and pale complexion. She oftens wears a milkyway/space print scarf around her neck and has stunning green eyes. Her expression is often soft and sweet. She has long chest-length wavy hair.

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The pair of dragons walks- Well, in the case of the small emperor, half flies, down the rows of houses, visiting each one with curiosity as to what treats lie within.

Coming across the dimly lit house the emperors small heads look up at their adoptive mother curiously, getting a nod and a reminder to be a bit quieter with this one as an older dragon may live there.

Rather quietly as their adoptive mother had instructed Dimourgia crept closer to the door, glancing back wearily at the Imperial who had come with them. The quiet knock might not have been heard at first from the silence that followed, their mother encouraging them to knock again, just a bit harder.

The two little heads of the emperor call out, the lighter head calling out softer than the dark at the door before them.

"Trick or Treat!"

A third voice seems to trail even quieter just after the other two, the blue eyes blinking curiously as the purple limbs dance around a bit impatiently. How long is this dragon going to take?!

"Mom I don't think this one's actually trick or treating!" The dark head calls out, being met with a rather annoyed and knowing look from his mother, grumbling quietly to himself as the other head attempts to comfort him.

"Just be patient you three," the Imperial calls out as she waits, "They have their light on, they might just be a bit busy."

Myrtle couldn't believe it. Her lights were dim, almost screaming "get lost!", and the first who greeted her were children. She sighed in irritation. Children had no regards to privacy. Myrtle glanced through the cracks on her wooden door and spotted a stunning bright Imperial standing a small distance away from her door. Odd, she was sure that she heard children. unless those spoilt brats required their parents to accompany them. Myrtle clicked her tongue in disdain. Surely these dragons do not deserve treats at all for disrupting her night.

She reached over for whatever she could grab to throw it in their faces, so that they would leave immediately, but when Myrtle opened the door, she couldn't help but gasp. What in the Sorienth?! The children was but a child, and the voices came from TWO heads!

Myrtle blinked, then shut the door and inhaled deeply before opening the door again. Indeed, standing in front of her, was a two-headed dragon with body prints that doesn't seem to fit together as one. That didn't matter, the only thing that did was that the two heads were beaming at her. Too say she wasn't shocked was a lie.

That explains the older Imperial.

Myrtle dropped whatever she was holding and it landed with a splat. She looked at the slime that pooled around her feet and scrunched up her nose in disgust. Thank goodness she hadn't simply threw it in the child's arms and told them to get on with it.

Perhaps, Myrtle thought, they could be the exception. She opened her door wide and smiled, her facial muscles tensed from the unfamiliar gesture. "Would you like to come in?"

Dimourgia had been rather, er, confused and more than a little upset at having a door shut in their faces, looking back at their adoptive mother in confusion. When the door is opened again both heads tilt in different directions, the Imperial standing from her seated position and walking up behind them, glancing suspiciously at the interior beyond the skydancer at her invitation to come in.

"We'd love to..!" chimed the dark head, "Maybe...." said the second, demeanor changing but moments later as light twinkled in the blue faceted eyes, followed with a third different voice "Yes please!"

Alona sighed, almost resigned to the fate the little ones had chosen. "They stay within my sight at all times. But they are allowed to enter." Her stern words are followed with cheering and one very bouncy emperor, all but the front left leg nearly leaving the ground before they shuffle onto their belly, trying to creep closer in preparation to being let in.

"Dimourgia, at least introduce yourselves please....."


"Oh!! Right! I'm Munchkin!" the dark head says, beaming up at the dragon before him;

"Aquafina!" The lighter head says, her eyes still sparkling even in the dim light before changing to a calmer posture, almost looking shy.

"Just call me Dim...." adds the lighter head once again, the voice this time noticeably more masculine than the voice before.

Myrtle blinked blankly. Three. There were three voices. Two heads, three voices, and a protective Imperial, Myrtle must be going crazy. What's done cannot be undone... "W-well, erm, I have 5 boxes of goodies.." Her back was turned to the dragons while she desperately stuffed random treats into available boxes she could lay her hands on, hoping that the young dragonling doesn't notice her unpreparedness.

"Maybe each of you could choose one?"

She lays out six boxes instead of five. The first one is a solid green cylindrical gift box, probably unused since the last Christmas. The second is metallic purple with a star right in the center of the square. The third is a simple brown-paper wrapped envelope. The fourth, let's not think about the fourth. And the fifth shaped in a black heart, with a pretty pink ribbon on top. And the last box smelled of freshly baked cookies.

Myrtle tries a smile again. "Special treats for special children, right?"

They nearly scream out in delight, bouncing back and forth from one box to the next, giving each a curious sniff with each head, the compound eyes on the lighter head twinkling in the dim light and a soft "Ooo..."

The poor little thing nearly trips over as the blue back leg from Aquafina reaches forward and gently taps the plainly wrapped envelope, Munchkins head snapping at the leg once before it rights itself with a soft "Sorry..." The interaction gets a soft huff from the watching Imperial, the Emperors dark purple ears pinning back at being silently scolded.

A purple claw from Munchkin points at the black heart box, and the other front claw plaps curiously before the fourth box, leaning forward to give it another sniff; Dim is ever curious. And can't actually see the state that box is in.

Myrtle collected the unchosen items, glancing shortly at the fourth box and wondered if she should take that back too but shook her head. It was a pretty gift, just a horrible choice of packaging. She's sure the children will love it. Well, 67% confident that the children will like it.

In the envelop holds some cash, definitely useful to buy sweets for a child.

In the black heart box... Laid another mysterious box! Myrtle chuckled merely at the though of Munchkin's appalled face. It suited the child, and whatever laid hidden inside.

The fourth box, will wasn't explicitly chosen laid beneath the feet of Dimorgia. "Consider it a gift, for your gracious visit." She gently ushers the excited dragonling out, handing over a basket of treats toward the Imperial, "For you as well."

Myrtle knelt down to maintain eye contact with the 2 dragon heads. "Maybe I'll see you next year. Happy Halloween."

“Ok!!!! Thank you miss!!!” the trio call, bouncing over to their mother with the gifts; Alona gives a silent nod in thanks and wanders away with the little dragon at her side.

---

Scarcely ever seen -even by his clan mates, Daemon has decided upon some treasure-hunting this year. A very quiet sort, though best to exercise due caution around him. He isn't necessarily evil, but... he's not exactly friendly either. There's a grim air about him....

He carries himself as light as the autumn breeze. With words merely whispered on the wind, he speaks,

''The break of glass, the scratch of claws,
don't be there whence my hunger calls,

Rustle, rustling leaves may be,
and running startled are the deer,

Blackened heart is filled with need,
Screams and silence are all I hear,

I came to thee this night so dark,
Seeking gifts or bold deception,

And then from thence I shall depart,
Into the shadows, my own reflection.''

As if Halloween wasn't a torture enough, Myrtle was appalled by the guest at her door, who only spoke in limerick. Honestly, who speaks like this in modern times? Myrtle grabbed the candle nearby to view the face of her guest much clearly as the hood had casted a dark shadow in the alread dark night. She sighed, seriously though, nothing makes sense because IT'S NIGHT TIME. Get that ghastly hood off you she wanted to scream.

Then an idea came in a flash.

"Kind sir." She said, thrusting her candles out towards the stranger. "Perhaps you'd like to join me and my candle? It's good candy, and I have plenty. Perhaps it may even guide you on your way."

She doesn't wait for a reply before she swung the door close.

---

As the door swings open, a small Bogsneak sits up on her hind legs, flicking her forked tongue in and out. It's almost impossible to tell where she's looking exactly, due to her odd-shaped pupils.

"Greetings," she says, then squints and shakes her head. "Er, no, uh... Trick or treat!" She picks up the burlap sack and opens it, thrusting it towards you. Her wide smile grows wider.

Rude. Myrtle wanted to say. The child was absolutely rude to shove the sack forward in demand for treats. "No." She said and smirked at the horror that lit in the tiny bog's funny eyes. "Unless you sing me a song." Myrtle finishes.

"I need a really spooky song." Myrtle says was she bends forward to the Bog's height. "It helps me pack the goodies."

She hates to admit it...

But Myrtle thinks she's developed a soft spot for unique children.

She sighed in resignation, Myrtle does not turn soft.

---

Lady Black Pearl sailed to a stop in her Flying Dutchman at the entrance of this lair. She swoops down and began tapping on the door with her tail. When the door opens, she draws her sword and yells out:

"YAAR! WE BE PIRATES! TRICK ARRR TREAT MATEY! HAND OVER THE GOODS OR YER BE SLEEPIN WITH THE FISHES!"


WhAT?! Who dared draw a sword in her face?! Pirates were supposed to be eradicated like the measles were! Myrtle doesn't care if it was a costume, the dragon was rude, and unforgivable. She smirked. Two could play this game.

"Good of you to come. Give me just a moment, my dear."

The Pirate eyes in to her home and barges in to wait, and Myrtle dies a little inside. Now she's got mud and seawater soaking through her floor. Luckily, she wasn't the one who had to clean up.

Rummaging around her room, she retrieves a bag of orbs.

"Here! Some gobstoppers. Enjoy."

Lady Black Pearl took the bag with excitement, eyeing the golden treasure in the sack, Myrtle slides over to the door, and gestures the Pirate out. Myrtle chuckles to herself. Hopefully the Pirate would be far away enough before the orbs burst in tiny harmless explosions. The spirits wouldn't like to be lolled around like candy in the Pirates mouth.

It'll be too hilarious.

---

There's something very unsettling about the Pearlcatcher slowly making his way toward this clan's front door, and it isn't just the dark spirit-stuff leaking out of his every pore... although that certainly helps. Nor is it the cursed jewelry that seems to swallow the moonlight instead of reflecting it and binds his soul to his withered gray frame. It isn't even the dingy death shroud or disintegrating edges of his wings, as easy as it would be to blame them.

It's that he walks as though the ground refuses to free his paws, forcing him to strain to complete each step lest he become shackled to its surface. He trembles and lurches as he moves, his masked gaze tightly locked on the lair's entrance even when he picks his way around an obstacle, but does not rush and risk a fall. No doubt he would never rise again were he to allow himself to rest.

He knocks when he arrives.

It echoes like thunder before fading into silence and taking everything with it. There are no birds. There are no insects. Autumn breezes fail to blow. Even the sounds of nearby festivities become muffled, distant, cloaked by something terrible and hungry lurking in the space between the evening air and the darkness of night. It is as quiet as the grave where he stands. No one would blame any dragon if they happened to fear that they would never hear anything but their own breathing again--and that, perhaps, about to be cut short by the horror before them. Only outright fools and the bravest of dragons--which some, it should be said, would claim are one and the same--could face such a thing and stand strong.

What a relief it must be for most of those he visits to know that he won't be there forever, then.

He tears one paw loose, shifts his weight onto his other three limbs, and turns it upward in solicitation. The viscous material oozing from him swiftly coalesces into a half dozen clawed, gnarled hands and stretches forward to wreathe around his wrist. They grab at the empty air.

"My name is Marley, and of generosity will I speak tonight," he rumbles, though his mouth does not move. "Many shall come to you in search of the same before this month is through. By chains such as mine you may yet be bound, should your heart be hardened against their hopes; here with others who mirror my miseries will you forever roam, satisfied by no goods, craving always what no token may buy: a moment's peace, inside or out.

"I bring you warnings, for I forged my fate in the consuming fires of ceaseless acquisition and have ever regretted it. Sever your links and shed them. I shall carry some away, and in doing so, lighten your soul. May it then fly free on wings of love for the living, seeking to lift those burdens weighing heavily upon the shoulders of others--and in this manner, free you from your own."

In other words, dear greeter... Trick or Treat.


Myrtle listens with a bored expression. If the Pearlcatcher was going for a horrifying look, he had failed. Even children knows that the goo can be easily made from regular household items, and the mask will lift off the face if touched, although, to speak without moving one's lips require much more practice. She salutes him for the effort then.

But Myrtle definitely doesn't believe in the crap he speaks off, she only knows one thing - he can be driven away with sweets. After all, that's what they are all here for. Nobody bothers with her at any time of the year.

"Give me a moment." She shuts the door lightly and rummages through her stuff for anything she wishes to dispose. She looks down at her choice, and opens the door again once satisfied. "Here. And May I never see you again."

Trick or Treat... Right?

Surely this weird creepy dragon would appreciate a bucket full of maggots more than any visitor she may have tonight.

---

“TURTLE AND GRUMPY COMING THROUGH!!” a Spiral screams as she zooms throughout the sky, swerving around other trick-or-treat goers. Clearly, she seems out of her mind. Or perhaps she simply drank too much coffee. The Grumpy, Bamboo Phytocat, on her back clings on desperately, unable to relax with the excessive loop-de-loops she was making. She skids to a stop to the next lair, huffing and puffing with the effort of sprinting full speed ahead.

Turtle takes a deep breath, then shouts on the top of her lungs through her masque. “HEELLLLLLLOOO?? ANYONE HOME? I’M A SKYDANCER!” Her familiar covers his ears in response, growling at her.


Myrtle's claws grips at her ears to cover the ear-piercing screech to no avail. Who, in this ungodly hour, will visit her?! She knows, of course, the unwanted visitor had been kind enough to announce her presence. Just when Myrtle thought Trick-or Treating was over.

Maybe she should hang a sign that states "first 5 visitors only". Nevertheless, she opens her door, and with a scowl, replies to the rude greeter. "Hello, Skydancer. Perhaps, you would like some pumpkin juice?"

Myrtle shoves a glass of orange fluid and kindly ushers the Spiral with identity crisis out of her door. Surely no one would enjoy the texture of sludge. She closes the door and nearly snickers at the plight the poor spiral would be in.

---

Rustling could be easily heard as Silver Ink walked across the lush territories governed by the Gladekeeper. As an inhabitant of the Scarred Wasteland, she wasn’t used to all this beautiful greenery and life, and against what most of her fellow germs would feel when facing such a drastic change, she was actually enjoying herself way more than many would think.

From time to time she took a detour to catch a nice looking critter or bug that he didn’t know about, or to pluck an unknown flower or take a little sample of a certain kind of vegetation. She was beyond curious about everything that surrounded her, and she was seriously starting to consider going out exploring other god’s territories more often from now on.

She only stopped when she finally realized she had reached her destination, looking around until she spotted the lair she had been looking for. She pulled an interestingly decorated black and yellow empty baggie out of one of her pockets and headed towards the door, knocking a couple times and then sitting to wait for someone to answer while humming one of her favorite cheerful tones, her long tail moving behind her from side to side and hitting the ground at its rhythm.

The mirror’s swirly eyes and toothy grin widened as soon as the door creaked open before she extended the bag with the same enthusiasm a hatchling would “Trick or Treat!”


She was filled with too much enthusiasm. And it drove Myrtle mad in many ways; the most frustrating was how could anyone be so joyous? It was a sickening punch to her gut.

"Yes, yes, trick or treat." She spat with boredom. "Whatever sun and flowers brought you to my miserable piece of hatch tonight?"

She noticed that the Mirror's basket of loot consisted of the simple common grubs and blades of the grassland. Foreigner was the first thing that flashed in Myrtle's mind. That made things much easier. "Give me a second."

She chuckled as she grabbed the most unique and priceless items of the grasslands that she lived in, well except for the gray, almost shamefully uninhabited part where she housed.

"I'm sure you would like to bring these treasures home, a piece of our dear land if you would think so." Myrtle sent her best smile and closes the door on you. She snickered to herself. Surely the gnarly worms would start their colonization on whatever new lands may they be brought too. Or maybe they may consume the overly excited dragon. Quite literally, those little monsters.

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Guwa hadn’t expected to be offered the chance to visit other lairs for the annual Trick or Treat, but as a dragon already used to travelling, it was no hardship for him to gather up a bag, throw on a few pieces of apparel to better fit the festivities, and head on out for a journey across Sornieth, seeking welcoming clans.

It quickly became apparent that many of the clans participating in the event were displaying some sort of thematic decorations on or around their borders, making it very easy to spot them. He appreciated that - strictly speaking, the amount of time he had to visit as many clans as possible was very slim when the travel time was included - so it was a relief to not have to hunt for participating clans.

Spying a lair displaying such signs, he tucked in his wings and dived sharply, pulling himself up short of a crash landing at the last second to rest comfortably on the ground. Taking a moment to adjust his hat and scarf, and make sure his added apparel for the event was settled right, he drew himself up to his full height and called into what appeared to be the clan entrance.

“Trick or treat?”


Another one? Myrtle thought that by not decorating, the signs were clear that she didn't want any visitors. Whatever, she thought, he better be the last one. She was running out of goods to chase dragons away with. "Even when you're such a handsome young chap..' she muttered. "Whatever the deities were thinking to send you on this mission to collect teeth-rotting sweets?"

"Here, take these and don't come back."

---

Vespa sighed a bit discontentedly. Luck wasn't on her side tonight. Even though she'd hit up many a lair in search of goodies, she had little to show for it. Either the inhabitants were more interested in giving the imperial a scare, or they had already been rung dry by other treaters.

Something caught her eye. A home that seemed to be almost hidden. Maybe....maybe she'd find something for herself there. She trudged up to it, and gave it a couple soft knocks. "Trick-or-treat?" she asked a little hesitantly.

Honestly, Myrtle thought, maybe she should leave her house for the night and wander the streets. Or maybe not, there were too many dragons out there. Wayy to much than those who come knocking at her door. Myrtle rather leave the option of shutting her door at other dragons' faces, it at least gave her some form of satisfaction from their insistent bothering.

"Yes, yes. Trick or treat." Myrtle said with disinterest as she opened her door. But what greeted her was an Imperial looking so forlorn that she halted in her actions to take a good look of her visitor. This couldn't be! No one has to be more depressed than Myrtle herself during Halloween! Well, Myrtle only hates socializing, so she's pretty displeased all year round when dragons of her clan looked her up, but, her point still stands.

She glanced over the nearly empty basket of treats. That didn't look right. The moon was high up in the sky, which meant that night was almost over, and these were all the Imperial managed to get? The children of her clan were going to be so disappointed!

That's not fair.

"You know what, just take these and go back home." Myrtle said. "Don't come back."


"Oh. Erm, thank you," Vespa said, stuffing the treats into her bag. She ignored that last comment.

"Have a happy...Halloween?" she said uncertainly, giving the skydancer a slightly lopsided smile. She turned and headed off into the night.

---

The large, black Imperial covered in skeletal markings had been standing outside your Clan for at least an hour now. "It's that time of the year again.." He mumbled to himself. "Why did I sign up for this again?" He asked himself quietly. "Oh yea, for her..."

Finally noticing you, he slowly turns his vision towards you.

"Trick or Treat."


"Oh?" Myrtle muttered bemusedly to herself. There was another dragon who hated Halloween as much as she did. Having been too preoccupied avoiding visitors, Myrtle was shocked, least tp say, when she spotted you standing alone.

"Trick or treat indeed." Myrtle said. "More like torture and terror isn't it?"

"Anyways, here's some candied apples. I hope to never see you again."

---

"Trick or Treatt."


Myrtle glanced at her visitor and scrunched up her face. He smelled like smoke, and he looked like smoke. Are those blazes real ember? He'd better not get any embers on her wooden floors! "Just take these and get away."

---

Treat bag tucked safely into the fabric of his outfit, Marshmallow trots slowly, searching for welcoming lairs. He pauses from time to time, shaking the evening dew from his fur and making sure his outfit is still on properly.

He'd been nervous when his clanmates had suggested the angel costume. He was afraid it was too on the nose, and his cover was blown, but no one seemed to have made the connection yet, as far as he can tell. As skittish as it makes him feel, he does have to admit it looks rather nice.

Spotting the light of a lair, he eagerly speeds up, pulling out the treat bag in anticipation, but pauses just before making himself known. His clanmates had warned him that just as they are handing out a medley of surprises to visitors, he is as likely to get a trick as a treat.

He debates using his powers. They'd been given to him by the gods themselves, and surely aren't meant to be used as lightly as getting better goodies. But on the other hand, the clan had trusted him to go out and collect treats, and he doesn't want to disappoint them -especially not the hatchlings.

Surely, as long as he uses his powers to make people happy...

Marshmallow knocks firmly, emitting a faint aura of affection. Not too much. Just enough to make a person feel a bit more friendly; perhaps a tiny bit more generous. As he hears movement, he calls out brightly, "Trick or Treat."


Isn't Halloween the season of ghosts and monsters and horror and terror and everything not nice? What's this brightly dressed Tundra in an Angel outfit standing at her door? Myrtle clicked her tongue in distaste, terrible terrible indeed. He was far too bright and chirpy for her liking.

Although Myrtle thought that she should hate the visitor as much as she expected, somehow, she felt compelled to invite him in for a drink and maybe some snacks.

No, wait. What are you doing?! She mentally chided herself. She shouldn't even have thought of inviting the visitor in!

"Just, whatever, take these and go."

---

Maize the Nocturne swooped up to the lair. She rapped on the lair entrance, waiting as patiently as she could, which was her tail twitching and her claws fidgeting. When someone answered the door, her patience gave way. She jumped up, holding out her bag of candy. “TRICK OR TREAT!”

"Woahh! What??!" Myrtle jumped back as a pair of arms thrusted a bag of candies in her face. Absolutely unbelievable, were children brought up with no manners nowadays? "Yes, yes, trick or treat to you. Now would you stop jumping?" In glee Myrtle left out. The bouncing nocturne in front of her was wayyyyy too excited for Myrtle and she needed to get her away as quickly as possible.

"You know, when my house isn't decorated, you should know that i'm not open for Halloween." Myrtle grumbled. "No, I'm closed everyday of the year. I'm not here. I'm dead."

She looked over her shoulder at Maize and sighed. Fine, Myrtle shook her head in defeat, she's dressed up adorably, and I don't want to see a sad face on that Nocturne..

Sometimes, Myrtle wondered if she was starting to get soft.

"Here, take these and get out. Don't come back." She said as she shoved a basket full of goodies in Maize's arms and closed her door.

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