Seishin

Sarsaparilla
There was a time when Sarsaparilla wasn't a part of a clan. Instead, he tended to make temporary homes in old ruins that seemed to have come from a time before any dragon that he knew was alive. It was more convenient, overall. So long as he could find another, he could move right in. Usually, the ruins were empty; aside from the occasional oddball clan, dragons seemed to prefer to keep their distance. Therefore, there was no one to compete for space with. With a little bit of dusting, they were perfectly habitable. Most even came with their own decorations, the key word being "most." Looters and thieves that went by titles such as "collectors" and "archaeologists" were Sarsaparilla's most frequent visitors. For a little while, he was only mildly annoyed by the sporadic invasions and thrifting of his then-home. The objects that were taken weren't originally his, after all; what right did he have to be angry at their disappearance? Time passed, and with each dragon that came and went, his answer to the question slowly changed. The artifacts might not have been his, but they were a part of the place that he was using as his home. The walls that sheltered him weren't able to defend themselves, though, no more than they could stop him from barging in and announcing that he had his new lair. What made him different from the other intruders? He didn't take anything. In fact, he took care to change as little about his short-term home as he possibly could. The others made very permanent changes, leaving dust-free spaces were there were originally scrolls, tablets, necklaces, vases. Nothing was spared, not even rubble. Anger bubbled up inside the Imperial to the point where he began chasing away anyone who wanted to do anything more than look. He became a self-prescribed guardian of the ruins that he was occupying.

There was a particular Skydancer that was undeterred despite the fact that Sarsaparilla chased her away every time she attempted to remove something from the ruins that he was residing in.

"But it could be the key!" she had exclaimed the sixth time she was being chased.

"Key or not, it's not yours to take," had been the reply she had received.

One day, Sarsaparilla came home to find the Skydancer in the room that he had taken as his sleeping quarters. The female was covered with an especially well-preserved cloak that Sarsaparilla had found stored away some time ago, some bits of rags that he remembered had been lying around, and some cobwebs that he didn't remember finding, among other things that he also didn't remember finding. Dumbfounded, he stood and stared and allowed the stranger to continue examining the tablet, an item that she had been attempting to take from the first time she had found Sarsaparilla's temporary shelter, that she was holding. He heard her mutter about the possibility of one thing or other, things that she had obviously thinking about for some time. When she finally noticed his bulk blocking the main entrance to the room, she flicked out a web-covered wing and gestured to her cloak-clad body. "These I'll be taking. This-" she carefully set the carved stone in her paws down "-I will leave. But I'll return. This one is important!"

The Skydancer made good on her promise. She came back day after day, never from the main entrance, but from whatever hidden passageway she had found. Sarsaparilla watched her and even began studying her. She seemed to have taken it upon herself to come around the same time every day, so that he was essentially warned of when she would be arriving. So many times, she could have taken the object of her fascination with her, but she never did. She continued to come back, allowing the Imperial to query her when she came out of her many musings. She didn't want fame or fortune. She sought knowledge and understanding, to be able to record the words and lifestyles of those long gone.

"Take it with you," he told her as she was taking her leave one day. "I'm sure that you'll give it the care that it deserves."

"...Come with me. I have something to show you."

This was how Sarsaparilla came to stay with a clan. He had seen the immense collection that Isadora, the persistent Skydancer that had pestered him for days on end, had gathered over years. He became the self-proclaimed guardian of the ancient items as well as the protector of the passionate architect, and although he occasionally misses his days of wandering, he doesn't regret his decision to stay with curiously magnetic dragon.

Isadora
The days of old hold much mystery to them. After all, not many can say that they'd been alive a millennia or two ago. Who can say with certainty what was done for what reason, what was made for what reason? How did those of the past live? Why did they live the way they did? These questions and more are what draws Isadora to her occupation as an archaeologist.

At times, though, it can be a little difficult to say whether Isadora is drawn to archaeology or archaeology is drawn to Isadora. She can walk onto a site of interest unadorned, but by the time she flies home, anything from capes to bangles to cobwebs might cover her body. At home, she divests herself of the adornments, both purposely and accidentally appropriated, and adds them to her collection. With the many expeditions that she has gone through, her hoard of samples and souvenirs has become rather commendable for its size and variety.

What does she do with all of these items? Aside from the usual staring and feeling the simple joy of having them in her possession, Isadora catalogs and organizes her findings. There are times when certain items disappear from her shelves and reappear either on her or somewhere in her lair. Artifacts they might be, but many were originally designed for a purpose other than sitting around and collecting dust. Naturally, fragile specimens are exempt from Isadora's light usage, instead finding themselves carefully protected and preserved for future studies and appreciation.

There are several artifacts that Isadora saves for only studying, though. These items include a number of scrolls, a tablet, and a vase. Found in a tomb, they contain characters in a language that the Skydancer has been attempting to decode for some time. Slowly but surely, she has made headway, but unfortunately, she seems to have come to a roadblock. This obstacle requires more samples of the language so that she might be able to puzzle through the language and finally know what those of the past were communicating. On occasion, the urge to decipher the text becomes so strong that Isadora may disappear for days on end to search for any bits and pieces of the writing. Unfortunately, remnants seem to be few and far between, and she often returns with nothing to show for her efforts. That, of course, is far from deterring for a passionate archaeologist. So long as there is a secret from the past to be uncovered, Isadora will refuse to rest her wings.

Ming
Despite the insistent wind of the Windswept Plateau buffeting at his wings day after day, Ming tends to resist the urge to take to the sky and flit around like a hatchling. In the daytime, he does just that, looking for all the world that he is content simply allowing the wind to slide over his hide and comb his mane. At night, when he believes that no one is eyeing his simple, but eccentrically and yet elegantly decorated platform, he allows his wings to spread and catch the substance that had been teasing him.

Of course, it's not quite possible to spot every curious eye, especially those that are simply passing through on a journey to a destination past the area that Ming and his clan called home. Tales passed from maw to maw about a Pearlcatcher who from afar was more akin to a Skydancer for the way he seemed to revel and play in the night air.

If Ming so enjoyed the feeling of being airborne, then why would he deprive himself of the joy during the daytime? He would never admit to such a trivial reason, but the fact is that it just wouldn't do to be any less regal than Mai, the only other Pearlcatcher in their chosen clan.

Any onlooker would think that they had once had had a quarrel of some sort in the past and had ever since refused to make amends with each other. Perhaps they are correct. Perhaps they are not. No one, not even their clanmates, had seen them bicker, and yet, interactions between the two are more often than not thinly veiled but eloquent insults. It seems more likely that their attitudes might have stemmed from a comment made by the clan's artist, Adelaide, about Ming's platform. It is just as possible that the proud dragons see something in each other that is worthy of their reluctant jealously. Whether it be from dispute or jealousy, there always appears to be a silent battle between the two to be better than the other.

Despite the disagreement between himself and Mai, Ming thoroughly enjoys being a part of his clan. His clanmates are glad to have his presence, even if for no other reason aside from his quiet and calm company. Perhaps one day, the two Pearlcatchers will also come to appreciate each other's company.

Bubblegum
Some long time ago, Bubblegum had been living on her own on a nice, little piece of Sornieth. It was a special piece of Sornieth, too, marked as it was by the remains of an old theatre. She loved to look at the relics still inside the building, occasionally trying on the masks and garments that weren't in danger of disintegrating in her claws. She lived peacefully in this way for some time, that is, until a rather loud and boisterous group found its way to her.

The members of the group were as colorful and vibrant as they were loud. They entranced Bubblegum even as she watched them from her ruins. She expected them to leave fairly quickly, as all dragons who were just passing through tended to do, but then she saw that they were settling down the equipment that they had brought with them. They were settling? But this was her home!

The dragoness darted out of the theatre as only a Spiral could: quickly and a touch frenzied. She whirled around each and every dragon in her presence, scolding one before moving onto the next. After some time, three dragons were able to calm her down enough to get a word in edgewise, and Bubblegum settled to listen to what they had to say. Though she'd admittedly gotten a bit huffy about having strangers intrude the area that she called home, her curiosity overcame her and she allowed the dragons to stay and set up their "circus," as they called it.

She watched as stands were erected and equipment was set out. Chests, ropes, nets, weights, cards, daggers... Such a strange arsenal, she thought. But what the performers did with them was absolutely spectacular and spellbinding. And then there were those who needed only their own bodies and perhaps a partner to complete their acts. Astounding! It was all...like magic! Even while she was being mystified, Bubblegum's mind bubbled with ideas, ideas to make this troupe even more than it already was.

At the end of the circus's third day at the theatre, Bubblegum nodded her head. Her decision had been made. When practice wound down for the day, she flitted straight over to one of the founders, set her coils down, and said this in her firmest voice: "I'm coming with you."

Ping List:
UndeadFae wants artistically inclined dragons
TimedSun wants Thistle tert dragons