Carnelian

Carnelian The Detective Solving mysteries piece by piece As a young Plagueling, Carnelian knew what was expected of him. Survival. The innate desire to push and pull and make it through to another day. His father did not understand - and if he understood, then he simply did not push hard enough. His siblings, too, did not have what it took to survive. They died soon after birth, on an outcrop overlooking the Wyrmwound. His father, determined to serve the Plaguebringer, perished in a losing battle. His mother, on the other claw, his mother . . . She was a deity’s prodigy. She had a deep-rooted carnal instinct that drove her forward, heedless of the sacrifices she deemed necessary to endure life’s hardships. She was a killer, but also a survivor. Carnelian could not stand it. There has to be more, He found himself thinking this over and over, a mantra he clung to as he watched his mother tear through her victims viciously, before throwing him a leg or a wing to chew on. “Dinner.” Carnelian ate the meals his mother set before him, wincing but not saying a word. There has to be another way. As soon as he was of age to travel on his own, Carnelian departed from his birthplace. He was in search for something that seemed to be missing in the Plaguelands. Looking back on it now, the Fae doesn’t know if he even said goodbye to his mother before he left. Determination drove him forward. There has to be something else but this . . . As luck would have it, Carnelian found that something. He encountered the Detective's Agency Bureau within the Molten Scar. It was here where the Fae realized that his instincts to observe and the need to search for missing pieces enabled him to become a brilliant detective. Fertoo offered him a position within the institution, which Carnelian accepted eagerly; more eagerly than he had ever snapped up the meat his mother threw at him. And with a killer like Meat as his mother, Carnelian realized that he knew more than he thought about murders, and murderers. More importantly, he knew their way of thinking. This helps him tremendously to piece together, and he enjoys working with Fertoo. Carnelian looks up to the other Fae, and thinks they make a great team. Carnelian’s first mystery to solve was a great one. It involved the gruesome murder of a Coral-and-Seafoam oracle from the Fishspine Reef, after a collection of ancient artifacts were stolen from the vaults of an old, enraged Guardian. There had been many theories about how she had been murdered. It was Carnelian’s quiet observation and steady work that set the matter to rest, with Fertoo’s assistance. From then on, Carnelian found a certain excitement in solving mysteries. However, not all of Carnelian’s cases are nearly so deadly - most are quite mundane, truthfully. When they are deadly, he is quite often standing away from the murder scene, leaving the forensic anthropologists to do their work. It is not his job, he reminds himself, even when he notices details about the body that have been missed - details his mother would lovingly whisper to, and thrash at him if he were stupid enough to dismiss aloud. So far, the forensics team has done a good job and even slight overpasses have not threatened the case’s success. Carnelian is praying to the Plaguebringer that he will not have to step forward and correct the forensics team anytime soon. One dragon on the forensics team in particular causes Carnelian many grievances. Wine is arrogant and morbid, and he is everything Carnelian despises about his birth Flight. Despite Wine’s birth-alliance to the Lightweaver, the way in which the Mulberry-and-Rust carries himself reminds Carnelian all too much of his mother. Carnelian fled from his mother’s wing for a reason - and to find her incarnate in his new home almost makes him lose hope. Maybe there is nothing else but this.

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The Detective's Agency Bureau. Those idiots with the funny hats. Carnelian's clan has multiple names, but in the end the only thing that matters is that they have brought the stern claws of Justice upon the criminals that would do worse without the eye of the law upon them.
Carnelian is painfully aware of this - raised in the wildest, most stereotypical of Plague lands, he knows the tumult, the absolute bedlam of dragons that only focus on their own survival.

Quiet and serious, glowing white eyes peer at everyone from underneath a red hood. The solemn Fae is often solitary, not entirely out of choice but simply because he is so withdrawn - still, he doesn't always mind this.
Information is so much easier to glean when no one else notices him.
And Carnelian is quite sure he needs this information; even within his beloved clan, there are occasional suspicious activities.
He's relatively positive a specific Skydancer with crystalline hide and elegant silk is up to something.