Ziba
(#52938473)
Level 1 Spiral
Familiar
Rosetail
Click or tap to view this dragon in Predict Morphology.
Energy: 0/50
This dragon’s natural inborn element is Ice.
Female Spiral
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Personal Style
Apparel
Skin
Scene
Measurements
Length
4.1 m
Wingspan
1.71 m
Weight
93.18 kg
Genetics
Robin
Iridescent
Iridescent
Pearl
Trail
Trail
Rose
Gembond
Gembond
Hatchday
Breed
Eye Type
Level 1 Spiral
EXP: 0 / 245
STR
5
AGI
9
DEF
5
QCK
8
INT
6
VIT
6
MND
6
Biography
Loves making ferments and anything related to ferments. She's a little bit of a loose cannon, and very much so on the wild side. She also enjoys knitting and making jewelry, as well as drinking competitions. Even though she's very loud and prone to pissing people off, her and Braze get along very well.
They didn't have a tavern down in the clan, which was a shame. Ziba loved taverns; before she decided to settle down, they were the only place she would rest her head. But here, everyone drank at home, or they didn't drink at all, because alcohol was scarce and there were better things to do.
Of course she had to end up in a clan full of no fun abstinent do gooders. Why wouldn't she? It was punishment for all those years of doing awful, horrible things with the excuse of being totally out of her mind on drink.
That was her working theory, anyway. But it was slow going, because she was on her sixth glass of glowberry liquor, and nothing except her liver worked hard after six glasses.
"You know, you don't HAVE to drink a full glass of liquor to test for flavor. Most dragons would just taste and spit." Ziba looked up from carefully re-sealing the final barrel of glowberry liquor, squinting at Perrin, who was looking much blurrier than usual.
"Oh, stuff it, Perrin. This is my method, and my liquor is the best on the whole mountain. You think that's a coincidence? I test for QUALITY, and testing for quality means testing all parts of a drink, not just a little SIP of it. Now go on, shoo, I have results to record." She took a long drink of the final batch, smacking her lips noisily afterwards. It was tart, and strong, but mellowed out into sweetness after the initial taste, which was exactly what it should taste like. Perfection, as always.
Perrin laughed, holding up a flask and giving it a little shake. "I'm not here to bother you. I'm just here to get a little of your apple cider for Seripha. She's headed off with the wagon, and it's cold outside. Figured she needed something to warm her up." He weaved his way through the barrels, running a gentle claw over their lids. Ziba waved to a row off to her right, made up of barrels with lids she had rubbed ivy on to stain them green.
"The cider is in the green barrels. Careful what you take though, I'm selling that batch soon, and I don't want to leave them light." She downed the rest of the glowberry liquor in her glass (which she really HAD to find a nice name for, because 'glowberry liquor' was not going to cut it), nodding thoughtfully as the burn faded. "You know, this stuff is really good. Is Abiah still harvesting glowberries on his little island? I would love to make some more of this before the spring."
Perrin, filling his flask, didn't look up, but hummed in acknowledgement. "He is, actually. I'll head up there one night and get you a couple bags full of them, if you'll set aside a bottle or two of this cider for me."
Ziba made a happy noise in her throat, raising her glass with reckless abandon. "It's a deal! You're the bestest, Perry. Now where were my notes...?" She set the glass down on one of the barrels, patting her body up and down until she found what she was looking for: a little black notebook, torn and a little stained. She opened it to the right page, squinting hard in concentration, and wrote down careful notes on each barrel of liquor. The first barrel was a touch sweet, and the second was a little astringent; she must have missed some leaves in the picking process...
She wrote for so long that she didn't notice when Perrin left. When she was done, she looked up, and the barn was empty. She snorted. "Typical Perry. Loves to take my liquor but never wants to stay around to enjoy it with me."
A voice from the doorway startled her. "He has to run, or he'll miss Seripha. She's leaving at peak moonlight. I didn't know the great Ziba moped about being left behind."
Ziba whirled, which was a bad idea, because the room was spinning before, but now it was double spinning. As a result, the bronze dragon in the doorway stared at her in triplicate. She raised a claw, scowling at the surprise guest. "I'm NOT moping, Brazey. I'm just LAMENTING the loss of a possible DRINKING PARTNER. Duh. You wanna take his place? I have a few more left in me, and allllllll this liquor to choose from." She flung out a claw, gesturing at the neat rows of barrels which were her pride and joy.
Braze just wove her way through the barrels, coming closer to Ziba, but slowly. "No. I'm here to make sure you don't drink through your entire stock. Market day is tomorrow, and if I have to suffer your hangover one more time I'm going to put you out of your misery myself. Come on, we're going home."
Ziba snorted, leaning against a barrel of strawberry wine, staring unafraid at the larger dragon. "Yeah, right. The day I let YOU push me around is the day I quit for real. You think you're tough? I've handled dragons WAAAY bigger than you, missy. You might scare all the apprentices, but you don't scare me." She stuck her tongue out at Braze for added effect, but her show of bravado was ruined when she stumbled trying to get all her claws and tails in order.
The larger dragon sighed. "You're such a pain. Listen to me, Ziba. You're leaving this barn. Whether you leave it trying to walk or on my back is your choice. But if you fight me, I'll dunk you in the river to sober you up, and when you're wet and cold, it'll be your fault. So what are you going to do?"
Ziba bristled, offended at the almost weary way Braze threatened her. She wasn't some common drunk caught after closing! She was the Great And Mighty Ziba, Master Of The Drink, and she wouldn't let some two-bit coatl with an inflated ego boss her around!
At least, that was what she tried to say, but what came out was, "Mmph. You're-- mean. Meany. Hate you."
Braze sighed, looming over the smaller dragon, and after a second of hesitation, picked her up, settling her across her shoulders like a very squirmy scarf. "And you're impossible, and very annoying when you're drunk. Stay still, I was serious about the river."
She exited the barn, carefully closing the door behind her, and started the walk towards Ziba's house, tucked away in the forest nearby. Ziba rested her head on Braze's wing, staring up at the stars, and shivered a little in the chill wind. It occurred to her, as drunk as she was, that it was nice to have someone walk her home, because otherwise she would have slept in the barn. She raised her head, trying to focus on the swaying head of the coatl. "Brazey? Thanks for taking me home, even if you're mean."
Braze was quiet for a moment, and then said, softly, "You're welcome. And I'm not mean. You're just impossible."
Ziba squawked, lashing her tail, and the two of them headed home, arguing and bickering, as the full moon rose above the trees.
They didn't have a tavern down in the clan, which was a shame. Ziba loved taverns; before she decided to settle down, they were the only place she would rest her head. But here, everyone drank at home, or they didn't drink at all, because alcohol was scarce and there were better things to do.
Of course she had to end up in a clan full of no fun abstinent do gooders. Why wouldn't she? It was punishment for all those years of doing awful, horrible things with the excuse of being totally out of her mind on drink.
That was her working theory, anyway. But it was slow going, because she was on her sixth glass of glowberry liquor, and nothing except her liver worked hard after six glasses.
"You know, you don't HAVE to drink a full glass of liquor to test for flavor. Most dragons would just taste and spit." Ziba looked up from carefully re-sealing the final barrel of glowberry liquor, squinting at Perrin, who was looking much blurrier than usual.
"Oh, stuff it, Perrin. This is my method, and my liquor is the best on the whole mountain. You think that's a coincidence? I test for QUALITY, and testing for quality means testing all parts of a drink, not just a little SIP of it. Now go on, shoo, I have results to record." She took a long drink of the final batch, smacking her lips noisily afterwards. It was tart, and strong, but mellowed out into sweetness after the initial taste, which was exactly what it should taste like. Perfection, as always.
Perrin laughed, holding up a flask and giving it a little shake. "I'm not here to bother you. I'm just here to get a little of your apple cider for Seripha. She's headed off with the wagon, and it's cold outside. Figured she needed something to warm her up." He weaved his way through the barrels, running a gentle claw over their lids. Ziba waved to a row off to her right, made up of barrels with lids she had rubbed ivy on to stain them green.
"The cider is in the green barrels. Careful what you take though, I'm selling that batch soon, and I don't want to leave them light." She downed the rest of the glowberry liquor in her glass (which she really HAD to find a nice name for, because 'glowberry liquor' was not going to cut it), nodding thoughtfully as the burn faded. "You know, this stuff is really good. Is Abiah still harvesting glowberries on his little island? I would love to make some more of this before the spring."
Perrin, filling his flask, didn't look up, but hummed in acknowledgement. "He is, actually. I'll head up there one night and get you a couple bags full of them, if you'll set aside a bottle or two of this cider for me."
Ziba made a happy noise in her throat, raising her glass with reckless abandon. "It's a deal! You're the bestest, Perry. Now where were my notes...?" She set the glass down on one of the barrels, patting her body up and down until she found what she was looking for: a little black notebook, torn and a little stained. She opened it to the right page, squinting hard in concentration, and wrote down careful notes on each barrel of liquor. The first barrel was a touch sweet, and the second was a little astringent; she must have missed some leaves in the picking process...
She wrote for so long that she didn't notice when Perrin left. When she was done, she looked up, and the barn was empty. She snorted. "Typical Perry. Loves to take my liquor but never wants to stay around to enjoy it with me."
A voice from the doorway startled her. "He has to run, or he'll miss Seripha. She's leaving at peak moonlight. I didn't know the great Ziba moped about being left behind."
Ziba whirled, which was a bad idea, because the room was spinning before, but now it was double spinning. As a result, the bronze dragon in the doorway stared at her in triplicate. She raised a claw, scowling at the surprise guest. "I'm NOT moping, Brazey. I'm just LAMENTING the loss of a possible DRINKING PARTNER. Duh. You wanna take his place? I have a few more left in me, and allllllll this liquor to choose from." She flung out a claw, gesturing at the neat rows of barrels which were her pride and joy.
Braze just wove her way through the barrels, coming closer to Ziba, but slowly. "No. I'm here to make sure you don't drink through your entire stock. Market day is tomorrow, and if I have to suffer your hangover one more time I'm going to put you out of your misery myself. Come on, we're going home."
Ziba snorted, leaning against a barrel of strawberry wine, staring unafraid at the larger dragon. "Yeah, right. The day I let YOU push me around is the day I quit for real. You think you're tough? I've handled dragons WAAAY bigger than you, missy. You might scare all the apprentices, but you don't scare me." She stuck her tongue out at Braze for added effect, but her show of bravado was ruined when she stumbled trying to get all her claws and tails in order.
The larger dragon sighed. "You're such a pain. Listen to me, Ziba. You're leaving this barn. Whether you leave it trying to walk or on my back is your choice. But if you fight me, I'll dunk you in the river to sober you up, and when you're wet and cold, it'll be your fault. So what are you going to do?"
Ziba bristled, offended at the almost weary way Braze threatened her. She wasn't some common drunk caught after closing! She was the Great And Mighty Ziba, Master Of The Drink, and she wouldn't let some two-bit coatl with an inflated ego boss her around!
At least, that was what she tried to say, but what came out was, "Mmph. You're-- mean. Meany. Hate you."
Braze sighed, looming over the smaller dragon, and after a second of hesitation, picked her up, settling her across her shoulders like a very squirmy scarf. "And you're impossible, and very annoying when you're drunk. Stay still, I was serious about the river."
She exited the barn, carefully closing the door behind her, and started the walk towards Ziba's house, tucked away in the forest nearby. Ziba rested her head on Braze's wing, staring up at the stars, and shivered a little in the chill wind. It occurred to her, as drunk as she was, that it was nice to have someone walk her home, because otherwise she would have slept in the barn. She raised her head, trying to focus on the swaying head of the coatl. "Brazey? Thanks for taking me home, even if you're mean."
Braze was quiet for a moment, and then said, softly, "You're welcome. And I'm not mean. You're just impossible."
Ziba squawked, lashing her tail, and the two of them headed home, arguing and bickering, as the full moon rose above the trees.
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