PalusHiemalis » Lair » Dioxippe

Dioxippe

(#7164199)

Level 4 Tundra

Familiar

Shorn Cerdae

Energy: 42/50

Personal Style

Apparel

Skin

Scene

Physical Attributes

Battle Stats

Measurements

Length

2.63 m

Wingspan

3.89 m

Weight

397.05 kg

Genetics

Obsidian
Iridescent

Obsidian
Striation

Obsidian
Thylacine

Hatchday

Oct 21, 2014
(9 years)

Breed

Adult
Tundra

Eye Type

Ice
Common

Level 4 Tundra

EXP: 2083 / 4027

STR

AGI

DEF

QCK

INT

VIT

MND

Lineage

Parents

Offspring

Biography

D I O X I P P E
{dee-ox-zip-ey}

Dioxippe has a crippled right wing, due to a flying accident as a hatchling as he attempting to fledge. Due to chronic pain from nerve damage, Diox can't contribute regularly to gathering, cleaning, building, scribing or other work around the lair. He uses his time to write fairytales and fantasy novels under the name 'Phosphoro the Twilit', they star rag-tag groups of young dragons who fight fate and wicked dark dragons. They are exceedingly popular with adolescent dragons, most especially 'the Ballads of Kithrid, Guardian of the Aurora's Edge.'

Dioxippe is, in short, a giant nerd. He likes to pretend to be mysterious and has an impressive collection of black cloaks and hoods. He holds fantasy tabletop roleplaying games in the basement on weekends, whilst there is definitely a group of regulars (namely Forfax, Abraxos, ...) he's always delighted to see newcomers, he claims its more fun to introduce people. He's always in costume with his darksteel and lapis trinkets. The only clan member who would never make a jibe against him is Isohel, his beloved mate. He could be happily described as smitten, even if she is only just getting the hang of his games, though she is enthusiastic.

Shy to a fault, he talks with a slight stutter, he only comes out of his shell when talking about his fantasy and costuming. Though he does have a side hobby of using his Stormseeker to send messages, something that has become really useful to the clan at large and he's trained numerous familiars to send messages (with a lot of help from Marsh.)
Dioxippe isn't very good at magic, he has helped occasionally a few times in the production of the clan's famous mirrors, but he has very little power. He is learning under the other magical users in the clan but hasn't gotten far. But he's desperate to keep trying.

Gosh he loves Isohel...

"Boo."

Dioxippe launched himself from his desk in fright. He almost toppled a bookshelf as he scurried for cover under the old oak bereau. Isohel stood stock still, her paw raised apologetically and her eyes wide with surprise.

"S-s-sorry! It was just you!" Dioxippe giggled nervously.
"I wanted to surprise you but not that much," Isohel helped pull him from under the desk and dust him off, "I'm ever so sorry."
"D-don't be! Its always lovely to see you, m-my friend."

Iso beamed happily back at him before she noticed the ink well on his desk had toppled and spilt all over his papers. She apologised profusely as she tried to mop up the mess, Dioxippe soon joined her and apologised back until they were both out of breath.

"Nevermind the papers, I-I-I was about to start that chapter over regardless."
"What are you working on this time?" She curled up in a perfectly sized old arm chair. The cushions were full of moth holes and the springs were worn, but it was her favourite place in the whole lair.
He looked about himself, though it was only the two of them in the room, "Its call Alabaster and the Silver Fires. Its a sequel to Born under the Moon Portal."
Isohel shuffled and got comfy, looking expectantly at him. She pulled her brown cloak of leaves back and got as comfortable as possible.

Most of the ink hadn't caused any damage, yet as he took it into his paws, Dioxippe hesitated.
"You know, you don't have to humour me..." He avoided meeting her eyes, "I know my work isn't to everyone's taste, you don't have to pretend--"
"Shush. No pretending." She said, her tufted tail tapping excitedly, "I want to hear it."

Dioxippe hid his bashful face behind his papers and began to narrate,

"Chapter one, the night of the rogues,
Breath hung in the air that night. The wisp fruit floated on the twigs. The sky was ink-black and moonless. A snow-white wildclaw slept on a bed of star moss, his body wrapped around a precious satchel. This is all Phelan could survey from his post--"

"Ooooh." She leaned forward in wonder.
"You don't have t-t-to ham it up!"
"I am not hamming it up! That's a great start to the new book!" She clasped her paws together, "Keep going!"

"Snow began to fall but the Sentinel stayed his ground, he would have to make his move soon or else the crunch of ice would betray him and leave tracks--"

The door swung open and Liette poked her head in the chamber. Dioxippe almost screwed up the paper as he yelped in surprise.

"Sorry deary, am I interupting something?" Said Liette.
"Not at all," Isohel smiled, "Why don't you join us--?"
"Uuuuus-- for a lecture about the theory of ice magic in relation to polygonal trigonomic fractals and cryological nonmenclature!"

Dioxippe's stutter always disappeared when he had to think on his feet.

"Ohhh, no thank you, Dio dear, I will leave you to your... riveting seminar. I simply wanted to drop off your order of black tea."
Dio took the paper bag of tea leaves from her hand, "Oh! Oh, thank you, Liette, that's kind of you to drop that off, you must be so busy, I'll let you be on your way now, good bye!"
Liette was rushed out the door, as fast as a doddery old Snapper can be rushed.

Ishol frowned, "Dioxippe, are you alright?"
Dioxippe fiddled with the paper bag before setting it down besides his chipped tea pot. He chewed his lips and his ears swivelled back so that his beautiful black hood slipped off his head, leaving him looking less like a mysterious hero from ages yore and more like the skinny bedraggled tundra she adored.

"You don't have to hide your work, friend. People love your books, you're beloved across Sornieth!"
"As Phosphoro the Twilit, yes, not Dioxippe." He sighed, he began to brew some tea and the smell wafted through alongside dust and old books, "I know they'll figure it out one day. I get so much f-fanmail for my work, its wonder nobody's put t-two and two together. Its just, my books aren't..."
"Aren't what?"
"Res-res-respectable. They're adventures for hatchlings and fu-fussy dragons who never get outside their lairs, like me."

His right folded wing flinched unconsciously. He'd torn it up terribly as a hatchling when he first attempted to fledge, and now nerve pain occasionally coursed through his back leaving him to spend the day in his nest.

Isohel got up and took the tea from his paws.
"Please do not insult my favourite author." she said, before kissing him on the cheek and nuzzling into his black fur, "The people who love your work aren't simpletons or fussy, because it is beautiful work, no matter what others say. Now be nice to Phosphoro, or else I'll have words with you."
He almost dropped his own cup as he steadied himself, his knees wobbled and his tail lashed nervously.
"O-o-o-o-okay." He gulped.

Coded by @Palushiemalus #124501
Bordered Gifs by @Delamire

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Exalting Dioxippe to the service of the Lightweaver 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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