Passifloraedulis
(#63597215)
Adventurer
Familiar
Aurora Pangolin
Click or tap to view this dragon in Predict Morphology.
Energy: 50/50
This dragon’s natural inborn element is Shadow.
Male Spiral
This dragon is hibernating.
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Personal Style
Apparel
Skin
Scene
Measurements
Length
3.08 m
Wingspan
2.94 m
Weight
106.19 kg
Genetics
Mint
Iridescent
Iridescent
Pistachio
Shimmer
Shimmer
Spearmint
Filigree
Filigree
Hatchday
Breed
Eye Type
Level 25 Spiral
Max Level
STR
129
AGI
8
DEF
5
QCK
50
INT
5
VIT
13
MND
5
Biography
 
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Pash
Warrior and Scout “Hearts Live By Being Wounded” ― Oscar Wilde
Origins - The Holocene dragons had been training hard to take on the Scorched forest, yet were knocked down again and again. Their general, brave Saoirse, set up their camp, to discuss battle plans and tend their wounds. The atmosphere is hushed and morale low, as they prepare to face off against that which has bested them too often to count. Theyre running low on supplies, and Saoirse sends her second in command, Ailill, to gather more food. Ailill nods solemnly and heads deeper into the scorched and barren landscape, to find some morsel that still clings to life. Ailill is forced to stray further and further away from the safety of camp due to the scarcity of edible plants, and hearing a roar in the distance, tenses and slinks closer to the noise, lowering himself to the ground as to be less visible, knowing that alone like this he’s an easy target for the beasts that have slain him even when he was with his clan. He shakes his head to clear his thoughts and focuses instead on the direction of the periodic snarls and ringing howls, sharp like cut glass. As Ailill approaches the sound, he realises with a start that it is coming from a dragon, not from some unknown powerful threat. He allows himself to stand up straight and move faster towards the specks he sees in the distance, obviously mid battle. He is worried for this dragon, for although he is unknown to their clan, any dragon caught in this hostile land alone is in danger, and Ailill resolves to bring him back to his clan’s camp and patch his wounds. As the figures come into focus he spots the young dragon, a flurry of blue and intricately marked, facing off against three owlcats, which fail to land their claws on his shimmering scales. The young dragon, a spiral dragon Ailill thinks, although its hard to tell from this distance, rises up and forcefully whips at the owlcats with his tail. One falls, mewling in pain, and the other two back away warily. Ailill inches closer. The young dragon snarls at the cowering owlcats, which balk and flee, abandoning their fallen companion. The dragon watches them run, satisfied, and goes to claw at his prize. Ailill steps closer, hesitating to fly down and greet the lone traveller, and underfoot a twig, black with soot, snaps, drawing the amaranthine gaze of the other dragon, who lifts his kill up with one hind claw and flies over to where Ailill is standing motionless, shocked that one dragon, nevermind one many years his junior, could so easily beat those creatures whom his clan had struggled against, luckless, time and time again. The young dragon smirks at the hint of fear in Ailill’s eyes, preening at it. “well hello fellow traveller” the young dragon says, absently wiping a smear of blood from his cheek “I am Passifloraedulis, son of Hermes. Those who fight alongside me call me Pash, are you here to earn that privilege?” He deposits the owlcat carcass on the ground between them “Plenty more where this one came from”. Ailill swallows, suddenly nervous “I am Ailill, of the Holocene dragons of Clan CuChulainn. I come to invite you back to our camp, where we can provide food and treatment for any wounds.” Young Pash’s gaze softens as he realises this elder is not here for competition, and he does like the sound of a safe place to sleep without constantly watching his back. “Hm. Very well then” he says, and in addendum “Thank you. Thats a generous offer.” He pauses, considering. “You best lead on then” he finally states, preparing his wings for a long flight “wouldn’t want to keep your Clan-mates waiting.”
... After many long days of training, with his clanmates and in the coliseum, Pash was finally ready to become a Holocene warrior in his own right. The ceremony had been prepared the day prior, discussed in hushed tones by the older dragons, Pash himself was not allowed to know his final trial until the day itself arrived. On the day of the ceremony, he was decorated in swirling battle paints by his clanmates, each of them adding a smear to his face, as per custom. He was becoming a true warrior of the tribe and in battle he was to carry each of their spirits with him, for the glory of the clan. When the hour of the trial arrived, Eurydice, Pash’s companion in training, beckoned him forward, smiling gently as she directed him to stand before Generals Saoirse and Tallemaja. The generals were resplendent, dressed in their finest battle robes, each of them carrying a spear, glinting in the dusklight. Pash bowed his head in respect, and each general bowed to him in return. “Arise, young warrior” General Tallemaja spoke, breaking the crisp silence in the clearing where the whole clan stood. General Saoirse continued, voice softer than that of Tallemaja, yet still holding the grit of a seasoned warrior “Indeed, arise, and drink from this goblet” Each general steps aside, and on the pedestal between them sits a silver goblet, its contents swirling. General Saoirse noticed the brief panic in Pash’s eyes. “Do not fear, young one. Once you drink from the goblet, the tincture within will strip you of your strength, once the ceremony ends, your powers shall be returned to you.” Pash nods, and each general nods in response, stepping back to let him make his way to the pedestal. He looks down at the liquid within the goblet, takes the receptacle into his claws and sips at the contents. “Now, child” Tallemaja says “You must choose one of us to face in the battle trial. Whichever one you choose must also drink of the tincture.” Pash considers, slightly afraid of going up against she who trained him. Saoirse nods encouragingly at him, and he steels himself. “I choose combat with you, General Saoirse.” Pash swears he sees her briefly smile. “Very well” Tallemaja states, handing the goblet to Saoirse. “You fight to first blood”. Pash gulps as Tallemaja directs him to his place on the battlefield and settles herself on her perch above to spectate. Saoirse makes her way to her side of the field, flipping down her visor. Pash suddenly feels extremely underdressed in his light armour. “May your blades cross in glory” Tallemaja announces “And let the trial begin”. A reverential silence falls over the Clan, as Pash and Saoirse circle eachother warily. Both take cautionary swipes, dodging eachother easily. “Remember your training” Saoirse whispers, and makes a sweeping claw attack; Pash dodges, but not quickly enough to avoid the second blow from her tail. He falls but quickly rights himself, and makes three consecutive slashes at the General, each dodged but the last puts her on the backfoot. “I remember” said Pash, as he makes a broad cut at Saoirse, throwing her off balance. She resumes her guarded footing and attempts to cut Pash’s flank, he dodges, and tries to slash upwards with his ceremonial dagger, leaving himself open. Saoirse has her spearpoint at his throat before Pash manages to backstep. “Yield?” She asks, slightly out of breath. Pash pants, smirking slightly “Why would I yield?” he quickly uses his wings to push himself out from her spear rage and straight back in to land a quick hit on her side, Saoirse reacting just a second too slowly, landing a hit with her free claw on Pash’s shoulder. The clan erupts in uproarious cheering as Pash raises his dagger, the small speck of blood on it gleaming as though alight with flame. Saoirse sets aside her spear and presses her forehead to Pash’s. “I am so proud of you, Child” she places her palms on his shoulders and turns him around to face the clan, and Tallemaja flies down beside them. “We have a new Holocene warrior” she announces to the clan, as their cheers grow louder. Hearing this announcement each dragon hushes. Tallemaja turns to Pash “You have fought bravely today, dear one, and we are honoured to present you with this.” She outspreads her palms, and within them lies a purple pendant, which he notes matches his eyes. “This is a representation of your spirit. Each warrior holds within their spirit their own will, and the will of the clan”. She shows him her own pendant, green and glowing with power. “Now, you must rest, for the tincture requires time to wear off. Tomorrow you will wake up as a true Holocene warrior.” She turns away from him, back to the clan, “Sigyn, direct Pash to his new rooms please”. General Saoirse chimes in gleefully “And tomorrow, we shall feast in his honour!” Personality - To those that do not know him, Pash may seem arrogant, even foolhardy in the face of danger. However, those who know him truly, know that he is desperate to prove himself to the Generals of his clan, and to protect the others. His flaw is not arrogance, it is reckless loyalty. When he cares, he cares deeply, and will put himself in terrible danger in order to better protect those he fights alongside. Mate - Pash does not yet have a mate, in some ways it does not bother him overmuch, yet he sees the love his Clan leaders have for eachother, and cannot help but wish to find love of his own, perhaps that lad that charts the stars might like to... No, he cannot let himself be distracted from his duty. Perhaps in another life. Or another time? Clan Role - Pash is a warrior through and through, fiercely protective since a young age, strong, agile and fast, he was a clear choice for coliseum training as a young lad and as he grew he only got stronger. Now he is the pride of his Generals (In their own way, mothers to him) and he is rigorous in his training, finding comfort in the thought that he can fight any threat that may befall his clan. The attention he gets from the young astrologer after particularly arduous training certainly doesn't hurt his motivation, though. Quote:
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