CaptainHaru's dragon Frostcoil

Personal Style

Apparel

Skin

Scene

Physical Attributes

Battle Stats

Measurements

Length

29.32 m

Wingspan

23.77 m

Weight

7951.16 kg

Genetics

Teal
Iridescent

Seafoam
Shimmer

Seafoam
Gembond

Hatchday

Oct 16, 2014
(9 years)

Breed

Adult
Imperial

Eye Type

Shadow
Common

Level 14 Imperial

EXP: 14960 / 54161

STR

AGI

DEF

QCK

INT

VIT

MND

Lineage

Parents

Offspring

Biography

Frostcoil
Pirate

A suave pirate loyal to the sea. He Spends most of his time attempting to charm lady dragon's and collect wooden statues from the various shops at places his captain docks at. His on and off again mate Leilana is a sea dwelling Leviathan that never leaves her salty confines. He's notorious for being late for sail and often missing his crews boat taking off leading to his frantic flights over the rich ocean waves to catch up.

It was a brief interlude in the spring monsoons that wracked the shoreline north of Oakrest which brought the body to the shore. Shearwater looked at it and cursed before hauling the imperial above the high water line and hurrying off to the Citadel to get help.

///

Nibiru came as Oddity's silent shadow. So few dragons in the Citadel knew the healing arts, and though Nibiru would hardly count themself as capable, they still knew more than most. The two followed Shearwater down to the rock-studded shore. A bitter chill hung in the air, casting the shoreline cliffs into bleak contrast with the dry heat of the Citadel.

"Let's hope he doesn't need any plaster done," Oddity groused as they picked their way among stones. "It'll never set in this damp."

In a short time, they stared down at the form of an imperial, his eyes half-lidded, his breath barely fogging Oddity's pocket mirror.

"Do we know him?" Shearwater asked. The fear in his voice drew Nibiru's eyes up to him.

"He's not from the Citadel," they said at last. Then, they glanced at Oddity. The surgeon was ignoring their guide, and Nibiru frowned deeply for a moment before adding, "Please, we will need to move him. We will need help."

As Shearwater flew off, Nibiru turned their attentions to the task at hand. Oddity calmly and carefully attended their patient, and Nibiru followed the directions to the letter. Eleven knew where this stranger had come from, but he was here now. He wasn't dying on their watch.

///

Frostcoil was aware of the dull ache in his head, the burn in his nostrils, and the musty taste tinged with iron in his mouth even before he opened his eyes. It was so much easier to keep them closed, and he was aware of the sound of someone breathing nearby before he could see them.

He was drawn to pain, then. His ribs felt as if they'd been crushed, and his head felt split by fire. His breath came sharply, and he regretted it instantly. His lungs hurt more than he thought lungs could hurt.

"You're better to lay still," someone said, and Frostcoil opened his eyes to a blurry mess of brown that resolved into the shape of a ruddy pearlcatcher maid.

She wasn't bad looking. When she moved, a set of bells around her ankles jangled. Frostcoil gave her his most winning smile. "Hello there," he purred.

Or at least, he tried to purr. It came out more as a raspy croak.

She actually rolled her eyes at him.

"I'm usually much better looking than this," he added.

She quirked her eyebrows at that. "Half-drowned is not a good look for anyone," she said.

He furrowed his brow. "Is that what happened?" he asked, and then memory of the storm came back to him like a mountain in the fog. He jolted towards his feet. "The ship!" he gasped.

The little pearlcatcher set her hands on his shoulder and tried to ease him back to what he realized was a bed. "There was no ship we found," she said. "Only you, half-broken on the rocks. I must go tell Odd that you are awake. Please, do not lurch so. You'll undo all we have done to mend you."

He scowled. Where was the ship, he wondered? But he let himself be talked back to resting. The world was more amenable while he was lying down.

"Fair maiden," he said. "Please. I will rest if you but tell me your name?"

She looked at him like she wished he would be swallowed by the earth and gone from her sight. "I'm no maiden," she said. "I am the flame. You may call me Nibiru." And with an annoyed flick of tail, Nibiru left.

///

"Most of it will mend," Oddity had said. "Your wings, on the other hand..." He frowned quite a bit in the telling.

Nibiru, who was very clear about how Frostcoil should refer to them when they returned with the doctor, made an indifferent shrug. "It won't be that bad," they said. "We have seen worse."

Oddity frowned. "Titus," he said, nodding in agreement. "He could fly by the time he reached you. But the scarring he carried was significant."

"If Titus can do it, this oaf can." Nibiru slipped away as Frostcoil stared after them, jaw agape.

After they left, Oddity tutted and shook his head.

"Is it just me?" Frostcoil asked. He had to forcibly shut his own jaw.

Oddity smiled and shook his head. "They carry a knife for everyone. Don't take it personally."

///

After Oddity let him walk again, sure that he would do nothing to disrupt the mending of his ribs or limbs, Frostcoil set about investigating his own mysterious appearance on the shore. He remembered the storm blowing in, and he remembered the strong gales blowing.

Near as Frostcoil could gather, he must have been blown from the ship, must have been kited into the water and tumbled by the surf. There, on the rocky bottom, thrashed by waves, it was a sheer miracle that he survived. Had Shearwater not found him, he may not have made it.

It was a heavy thought, and until his wings mended, Frostcoil knew he couldn't get very far. After all, an imperial without his wings was little better than a very long snapper. So he took to wandering the Citadel while he healed.

The dragons here were secretive, on the whole, though Frostcoil found a friend in Amund, who was a former sailor himself. They traded fish stories a few times, and Amund gave him a better tour than he'd scrounged up on his own.

And that was how they wound up watching Nibiru dance.

Frostcoil watched, completely stricken, and understood what Nibiru meant when they had said they were flame.

Later, after the tour, Frostcoil asked about Nibiru and Amund winced.

"They're fire," he agreed half-heartedly. "But they're the coldest fire I've ever known."

///

"Higher," Nibiru said.

Frostcoil lifted their tender wing as high as he dared, wincing as he did. Nibriu, perched above, grabbed hold of his tender wing and pulled until it extended straight. Frostcoil yelped, tears in his eyes.

"This far," they said. "Every day. Ten repetitions. At least three times a day. More is better. You must ensure the blood flow is not obstructed, and that you do not allow arthritis to set in."

"This would be easier if you had a real healer," Frostcoil muttered.

Nibiru stared him down, trying to melt him with the intensity.

Frostcoil gave them a bright smile. "You know, you must be fire. You smolder quite well."

Nibiru's face darkened at that, then completely shut down. "We're done," they said, their voice dropping any lilt at all. "Three times a day," they repeated before gathering their things and heading towards the door.

Frostcoil knew that he had said something wrong, but he was just playfully flirting. He had been trying to get the pearlcatcher's goat, as it were. If he'd made them blush or laugh, he would have considered it a success.

This wasn't what he'd intended.

///

It was a week before Nibiru would see him, and then it was only in the context of therapy. Frostcoil tried to bring up what he'd said, what the trouble was, but every time he started to speak, Nibiru cut him off, spoke over him, interrupted about something relevant to his healing.

Frostcoil felt off his game by this curt pearlcatcher. He surrendered to ministrations of stretches and strength-building exercises that demanded more of him than his work among the sheets and rigging of the ship ever did.

Afterwards, winded and sore, but feeling more limber than he had before, he tried one final time.

"Look," he said. "I don't want to hurt your feelings. I never intended that. I just ... I think you're very good looking. I want to compliment you."

Nibiru's eyes narrowed again, and their cheek twitched for just a moment. "I am no pretty face," they said.

"No. Everyone I've spoken with agrees you're fire and knives and absolutely terrible."

That brought a very small smile to their face. "You keep treating me," they said, "like a shrinking child. Like something fragile. Like something worth holding close."

"Beautiful things are worth holding close," Frostcoil countered.

"Asps are beautiful," they answered, snapping shut the case they were packing. "You would not want to hold one close."

///

After that, Nibiru seemed much warmer, and they were sometimes found in common areas, laughing and gambling with others. They were approachable, and when Frostcoil drew nearer, they did not lash out at him. He didn't know the cause of the change, but he was grateful.

"You know," Lisabet said one evening after Nibiru had retired, "I noticed how you look at them sometimes. Just remember - that hearth'll keep your house warm, but the chimney fire's gonna burn it down."

"They like me," Frostcoil said defensively.

"Like a candle likes a moth," Lisabet muttered into her drink.

But Frostcoil found Nibiru returning his flirting while they worked on restoring his wings' range of motion. And now and again, he would catch them looking at him. And for a moment, he wondered whether their mane was soft or coarse, then found himself stared at again.

"A few more months," they said, intruding into Frostcoil's thoughts but not breaking their frank stare, "and you'll be able to fly again. I hear Amund has almost tracked down your ship's itinerary. We could have you there in no time."

Frostcoil looked away. Oakrest was landlocked, so it was unlikely his ship would ever come near enough to see this candle-dancer again. "A pity," he said. "I was almost hoping for more time."

They gave him an amused smirk. "I like you, Frostcoil," they said. "When I feel like liking anyone."

That stung. To cover it, he gave them an awkward shrug. "That's uh," he said, "fine, I guess. I mean, my heart belongs to a woman like the deepest sea."

They quirked their eyebrows at him in what he had learned was silent laughter. This time there was a playful smile beneath. "She can have your heart," they said. "But perhaps I could have some of your time remaining here?"

[Written by ixris]

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Exalting Frostcoil to the service of the Windsinger will remove them from your lair forever. They will leave behind a small sum of riches that they have accumulated. This action is irreversible.

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