SIMON

Name Goes Here Title or something idk Quote or something here?

Maybe another small brief descriptor here? Could replace the physique thing by giving a brief description of something off with the individual.

Sorry, no lorem ipsum just a lot of the word text over and over. Purpose of this block to give a brief summary of information I feel like giving. Stuff like where the dragon lives, what they do, an idea of what they are capable of and how they feed. Possibly a hint of backstory as well as bits of personality. text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text

Alignment wrote: Entity: One of the fifteen or N/A Relationship: Positive/Neutral/Negative Strength: Witness/Acolyte/Avatar/Incarnation/Monstrosity Risk: Low/Moderate/High (Note: Strength is a balance of power and "humanity" in the dragon) Publicity wrote: Affiliation: Solo/Small Group/Large Group Group Name: Exposure: Private/X-Level Awareness/Public (Exposure is tied to how many know about the individual. Low, Moderate, and High levels of awareness mean the individual is known to an extent in the territory. Public means they are well-known in two or more territories.) Social wrote: Access Level: Anyone/Staff Only/Archivist Only/None Location: Elemental territory/Nomadic Extra Notes:

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The Twin Notes Café was a place that he had been looking forward to visiting after hearing so many great reviews about it. The drinks were sublime, the shows were always fantastic, and even when the shows weren’t playing the atmosphere was friendly and welcoming. His condition was always worsened by crowds and loud distractions though, and the café’s location wasn’t exactly good if he were to try and visit himself.

At least, on most days.

One thing he had learned was that the café was one of the few places open during most holidays and celebrations. While it usually made it incredibly busy on such days, he planned accordingly, and soon enough, he had found himself walking to the café, the normally crowded and busy streets devoid of the normal bustle. It was nice to be out and about away from his isolated home.

And the café was everything he had hoped for.

He was amazed at how accurate the reviews were. The interior was sleek and modern, and quiet instrumentals drifted through the air, easy enough to tune out if it was distracting. Tables were arranged in a similarly patterned way, leaving space not only for the waiters and waitresses, but also for those participating in shows to move effortlessly between them all. An icy Imperial by the name of Phantom greeted him as he approached the counter, his voice on the verge of a tune as he asked about his desired drink.

He ordered an espresso.

The Imperial gave him an odd look as he was asked to make it as strong as possible, but nodded in acknowledgement before accepting the payment. He looked around the room briefly before finding a seat away from the few other dragons residing in the café, not wanting to be around more noise than necessary. As per usual, his appearance turned more than a couple heads, his colorful looks and equally colorful outfit were out of place almost everywhere.

She was the manager.

An equally icy Tundra delivered his drink. It smelled wonderful, and as per usual, he pulled out an energy drink of his personal creation and added a few shots of it. It also contained medicine for his condition, just to help prevent migraines and suppress other negative mental problems that came with it. A few moments and sips later, he is approached by a Skydancer, dressed in white and just as icy as the other two staff members he had talked to previously. She introduced herself as Soprano, offering up a survey for him to fill out. He gleefully agreed, and it seemed like she was almost relieved to hear the words from his mouth.

And then the show began.

It was a couple minutes after filling out the survey when a gorgeous red Spiral walked out onto the stage in the room. Up to this point, he had been enjoying the quiet sounds of the ambiance music, able to tune out the conversations of the other customers easily as what he assumed his medicine began working. The tune was slow at first, but quickly gained energy as time passed. He found himself wanting to sing along, despite not knowing the tune, and it seemed that the other customers did as well. He stuck with absently tapping a claw, humming a few notes up until it ended.

Then the sickness hit.

Something was wrong. As if seeing the pained expression on his face, one of the staff members, another icy Skydancer, quickly helps him out of his seat. She sings sweetly into his ear, telling him that he can rest easy in the room he is going to. He wants to believe her words, but his skin burns, and he feels like throwing up. As he’s laid to rest, that’s when the cacophony begins. There are too many voices, too many sounds, and as it begins to overwhelm him, he passes out.

The nightmares….

His rest is plagued. It’s all fragmented. Pieces don’t make a cohesive whole. Voices sing a harmony. There’s a buzz slowly drowning them out. The buzz splits into many. Quieting again until a single tone remains. It shatters again. No more harmony. There is color but no shape. He sees himself. It’s not him. It shatters like glass. He tries to piece together who he is.

Who is he?

He bolts awake, his mind fuzzy. The voices haven’t subsided, and he can’t tune them out. He ignores the flakes of scales and shreds of fabric as he hunts down his pearl. He had to remember.

Who was he?

Where was he?

He staggers to his feet, nearly throwing up as a wave a nausea hits him.

He spots his pearl.

He picks it up.

It’s wrong.

It’s horribly wrong.

Cracks riddle the surface, and he practically shrieks in fear at the sight. He nearly does so again as he spots himself in the mirror. Parts of him are the same icy blue as…..as……he holds his head as the voices suddenly grow louder. He drops his pearl, damaging it further. Pained, he grabs the shining round object again, and instinctively, he tries to add his ichor to it. It needed to be fixed. He had to fix it.

He couldn’t fix it.

His ichor was thick and much darker than his fractured mind remembered. It didn’t reflect the light of the room. Yet he tried to fill the cracks. Make his pearl whole again. He tried and tried and tried and tried and……

He falls to the ground again, the voices overwhelming him once more.

It’s all fuzzy.

He wakes to his body itching again, and the voices are quieter. He lifts his head, and sudden pain immediately forces him back down onto his pillow. Pillow? Didn’t he fall to the floor? Wait, that’s right, he……he…..

He raised himself again looking in the mirror. He didn’t know how to feel looking at himself like that. There was color, but then there was the blue. The cool, cool blue. It looked familiar, as if he’d seen it before. Where had he seen….

He grabbed his head again as the voices clashed in a crescendo and he fell to his pillow once more, screaming in agony wishing for the voices to stop. Was this something he always suffered from? What were the voices? What…..what…..

His condition.

Where was his medicine?

He scrambled to his feet with newfound energy from his panic. The voices, they had to be from that, right? He shuffled through the remaining clothes, and quickly located a bottle. This had to be it. The cure. He downed the entire thing.

The voices stopped.

And so did he.

He wakes up wrapped in blankets. He didn’t recall that blankets weren’t there before. He looks at the pearl on the table. It’s a hazy grey instead of a pure white. He knows this isn’t normal. He knows the patches of color mixed into his blue isn’t normal. He knows that voices calling to him from the recesses of his mind aren’t normal. He knows the hands beckoning him to approach the mirror aren’t normal.

It had been repeating.

How many times would he wake in the room?

What was real and what was a dream?

There is a knock in this iteration. A Skydancer quietly enters, worry on her face as she carries a set of clothes. Her name is Lovett in this iteration. She asks if he’s doing alright. He responds yes as he gave up saying no many iterations ago. She places them on the table next to his pearl. They are pale blue and white in this iteration. The Skydancer points to the door that once wasn’t there. She asks him to wear them, her worry intensifying. The voices tell him to wear them. He listens in this iteration.

It’s a bathroom.

He assumes it’s a bathroom at least. The tiles are a mosaic of unwanted colors, and the liquid that fills the tub is a mix of dark red, purple, and black. It must be this iteration’s bathroom. He fills the tub and removes the remaining scraps of colors from his body before slipping in. He dips his head…..

And comes up gasping for air.

The bathroom is suddenly pristine. The color only coming from his clothes and the remainder of his scales floating on the surface of the warm water. His body….this can’t be his body. He grasps his head, trying to recall what was going on. He finds bits and pieces of images, but he can’t tell what is real through the dreams. The voices swarm him, telling him to calm down, that everything will be alright.

It’s not going to be alright.

He blacks out again.

He wakes on the ground, cherry-red water pooling around his body. It sticks to him, feeling like syrup as he drags himself up from the ground. The voices are quiet again, humming a tune as opposed to attacking with words. The rest of the room is washed in a soft pink, lined with pristine white.

He finds the door and exits, finding his pearl still the gloomy grey from the last iteration. At least something was consistent now he supposed. He looks in the mirror, once again seeing ice blue and glittering black in his reflection. How many times had he made it back to this room from the bathroom?

There were tea and biscuits for him this time. It was probably the third or fourth time he had seen them in the many iterations. He takes one and eats it. It’s sweet this time, tasting fruity despite being dry. He eyes the clothes on the table. They’re a mint green in this iteration, practically glowing with vibrancy. He was getting sick of all the bright colors he was expected to wear.

Still, he decided to wear them in this iteration.

He lays on the couch again, wondering what this iteration wanted him to do next. A Skydancer enters his room, initial worry on her face turning to relief as she sees him. Her name tag reads Violett in this iteration. She asks how he’s doing. He says okay. She leads him out of the room. The outside is an empty black void, only occupied by him and Violett. She leads him places, saying things he can’t understand.

There is…..something inside. There is also a red Spiral. He ignores the something for now, thinking it just another abnormality of the iteration. He talks with the Spiral. She checks him over multiple times. She hums a song and the voices suddenly amplify. He holds his head in pain and she stops. She brings up programming.

Programming?

What…..what…..?

He collapses but doesn’t pass out. He hears singing again, but quieter this time. He blinks once. Twice. Three times. His eyes don’t betray him.

The colors have changed.

He raises his head, panic coursing through his brain. He shrieks at the Spiral in confusion, unknowing of what was going on. She tries to reassure him. She tries to explain things to him. She calls out names to him. Ones he doesn’t know. He grips his head as the voices join in with the name. His name is…..

His name is……

His name…..

His…..

…

“SIMON!”

He dragged himself up from under the many blankets. No matter the iteration, he woke up here now. The something he had grown used to seeing was Apotheosis. She was always the one to make sure he was put somewhere safe.

The iterations never started out as severe as they once were. It was usually just colors anymore. But that was always how they started. Innocent changes in color first, but then the walls would melt, or suddenly he was in a field, or maybe he was drowning.

It was always related to the voices.

That, and the music.

It was always so peaceful to him when he woke up. He would hum the tunes at times, dancing rarely if he felt he had the time to. He generally did his best to follow the tune as he worked though. He never knew what he did to suddenly change the voices, but when they changed, so did the iteration. Sometimes it would become akin to a dream, full of joy and calm, but other times, other times……

He didn’t like the other times.

He had fractions of memories of what exactly it was. He swore Lead, or the Red Spiral as he designated them, had spoke of them being programs once. Something to alter his behavior to a favorable or desired one. They had to be sick and twisted though due to how some of……those iterations were. Regardless of the truth though, he normally stayed underground with Apotheosis.

She never changed to him.

No matter the iteration, she remained the same. Perhaps it was because she looked like the…..other iterations, but behaved like the dream-states. She was immune to the changes where the others weren’t. The others would normally change names, sometimes their colors would shift hues or even their genders would suddenly change on him. Then there was Jekyll and Hyde. Another decent constant, even the latter preferred to mock him.

He was a failure.

His pearl often proved this to him. It was dull and cloudy, covered in an unnatural dark tint. Despite being a Pearlcatcher, he couldn’t ever gleam proper memories from it. They were always fragmented, pieces of iterations that had long since passed. Sometimes he would see a much more colorful Pearlcatcher in them, other times he’d see himself. He never added to it. Never had a good reason to either.

The show was calling.

The voices rose in his head again, singing a gentle tune to turn the iteration into a more pastel dream. Everything felt soft as he was drawn to the upper floors. It seems that Lead needed him to participate in today’s performance. He halfheartedly found himself climbing to the upper floors, the cause of the emotion unknown to him. He joined the others preparing to sing and dance.

Then the second song kicked in.

It was new. He was confused at first at the unfamiliar voices, but he realized he had little time to think about it as the iteration shifted. It was no longer a dream. He felt many invisible eyes on him, judging his actions, but instead of nervousness, he felt…..excited? The song had much more energy than from before, and for once, he felt like he could be himself. His song and dance had much more energy than before, and for a few moments, every one of his worries disappeared.

Then it faded with the song.

He found himself on-stage with Lead, and he was embarrassed at first. Taking the spotlight away from her was unheard of. He prepared to hear the songs that brought on the nightmares, but it never came, the voices remaining as they were before. The crowd was cheering and clapping, and the Spiral gently nudged him forward. She gestured for him to bow, and he quickly did as he was told, not knowing what was going on. He left back to his work, his brain fuzzy. All he could hear was his name echoing throughout the room.

Simon.

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Notes from Lead on Programming:

Programs are designed to encourage certain behaviors out of SIMON. Due to his condition, they are not to be used constantly.

Introduction to the Snow - Eases out of sleep states or can be used to coax into voluntarily participating in musical numbers.

Isle Unto Thyself - Best if used after Introduction to the Snow program. Encourages a more vibrant and expression-filled performance.

Black Rainbows - Situtional program. Depending on mental state, can be used to encourage specific behaviors for a musical number or as a way to calm down his mind. Best if used during a musical number as opposed to outside of one.

White Ball - Use when wanting best cooperation with musical numbers. Note: mental instability may follow and The Mind Electric program may have to be prepped in case of full breakdown.

Murders - Aggressive program. Doesn't turn behavior aggressive, but is to be used as a last resort should Labyrinth program fails. Likely to incite breakdowns, but allows for The Mind Electric program to be applied after almost flawlessly.

Space Station Level 7 - Used to bolster confidence. Program is intended for use should lead role or major supporting role be given out.

The Mind Electric - Reset/Tuning program. Used when breakdown is imminent or occurring. Calms out of control behaviors and allows for a different program to be uploaded.

Labyrinth - Use when being disobedient. Note: Never to be used during breakdown states or if close to one. It is only to be used when consciously choosing to not follow the wavelength.

Time Machine - A reset program to be used when near or during breakdowns. Used specifically during after hours when another program will likely not follow.

Stranded Lullaby - Used to enter a sleep state or to reboot. Often used to combat insomnia, but can be used as a last resort should The Mind Electric program fail to calm.

Dream Sweet in Sea Major - Can be used to aid in sleep states or to help enter a lucid state.