Oliver

Oliver's first moments must have been climbing out of his nest the moment he hatched, for his parents were welcomed on his hatch day by an empty pool of lava with nothing but cracked shells floating in the magma. One commotion later he was discovered digging through piles of fresh sailcloth, playing with the supplies meant to help with the Odyssey's efforts. It might have been fine, if not for his youngest brother's flaming eyesight burning holes through the cloth.

That sail, no longer seaworthy, became decoration instead as it hung up in their childhood room of the lair as they grew up reminding them of their shared first moments. Oliver and Hendrick both moved to new rooms as they grew older, while Hideyo claimed it as his own where the sailcloth still hangs to this day.

At his current age, Oliver struggles both with his charge and his presence in the clan. He has never left for a search, as his charge has always been his home. He cloaks himself in armour so vibrant blue that it stands in harsh contrast to his warm orange scales, showing off in a manner so bright and flashy that it might come off as overbearing power. A kind of genuine confidence, to be so unabashedly visible that he must be a dragon worth avoiding a fight with. Parts of his armour glows with a manufactured biolumiscence, being imbued with the kinds of chemicals that feed off his ambient body heat and light up in turn.

Yet he cannot guard the lair, for nobody will let him be a beacon to their beloved home. Even if he is built to guard those entrances that lay within the Flintlock Fumaroles, he is instead made into backup rather than warrior. He accompanies other dragons on dangerous missions - if they will even have him - or hides away within the lair where he cannot alert opposing clans to the covert entrances into his cavernous home.

Few dragons even agree with his idea to coat himself in vibrant blue like a venomous snake. They say he is painting a target, taunting others into taking him on, if only to steal the armour off his back. He refuses to listen to them, carrying his light regardless of what anyone else says.

But he's still lost. For he hasn't failed his charge - his home is as safe as it ever has been - but he isn't allowed on the front lines to keep it safe. Nobody cares about the fact that he must know best how to protect their lair. He's forced to hide away, wait for a mere chance to protect his home from an attack he could've instead stopped before it ever got inside.

They should let him do his work.

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