Spanish Harlem Green Bailiath

A stage is set, the props are few, but the motion of dance is reflected across the entirity of poised youth. Faceted eyes perpetually reflect an air of confidence, of optimisim, As if to mock herself, or perhaps to fool the unexpecting, dark lines of tarry sable give the impression of carefully crafted lines of mascara. Defined cheek bones, arched eyeridges and thick curving head knobs are all alight with glittering peacock-feather greens. The rest of her head, the hue dribbling down over a set muzzle and down a sleek neck, is a velvety ivy. Her toned shoulders and carefully muscled limbs bring something new to the original ivy, jade marbling. The marbling extends over her back but fades into the original ivy by tail's fork. Talons, perfectly accented to appear manicured, shine with pearlized lime and russet swirls. And finally, her wings. Slender spars dipped in evergreen shadows, become dappled seepage over a reflective copper that dominates her sails.

Egg Name and Description

Miss America Egg
Explosions of color dance across this egg, swirling and convulsing as they form chaotic order. Bright yellows, greens, blues, and prominent reds slosh together in tye-dye. There is little dark about the oviod and from most accounts is completely overwhelmed in its brightness. A single, pin-stripe-thin sash runs purposefully across the flashing colors from the apex, and is a bit darker than the egg's other aspects— for it is a blood red, contrasting with the lighter hues. The sash may give ominous foreboding of coming events— or may merely indicate the only serious side to the entire structure of the egg.

Hatching Message

Impression Message

There is a moment when all time stands still; a moment when eyes meet eyes and heart meets heart. The heat rising from the sands wavers in the suddenly still air; it blurs surroundings into a softer focus. There is yet another in sharp focus, one that the heat does not blur nor cause to seem faint and distant. She stands there; a love at first sight. « Only you, you're the only thing I'll see, forever. In my eyes, in my words, and in everything I do, nothing else but you, ever, » she declares, « Tonight, tonight, it all began tonight. Tonight, I saw you. You, my Ciym. Together. Bailiath and Ciym are together at last. »


Bailiath is now yours, forever, and though it might have seemed an unimaginable dream at the time of meeting, there may be times where you outwardly wish you two had never met at all. But then, after a few moments, you'll realize how much you love her, and you'll forgive her.

Forgive Bailiath for what, you ask? Forgive her for her remarks, forgive her for her attitude, forgive her for what runs through your mind at certain times and what she may tell you about certain dragons. « *Kaihirith* plans too much, she uses too many thoughts to do a simple task. I am better than her; I will not use my mind frivolously like her! » Is she actually better? She very much believes her remarks. She very much believes that she is, in fact, more well bred and refined than some of the fellow dragons in the Weyr. « No others but my clutchsiblings have my sire and dam, » is her explanation. « We are all better than the rest of them. »

This can cause her to look down upon certain dragons, as well. With that comes mild pranking. From, « Here comes that dirty slob of a brown again, perhaps if I put out my foot he'd not see and lose his balance… » to « That lazy one by our couch in the *barracks* needs a wakeup call. Maybe if I get as close as I can, and bugle in his ear… »

The air is Bailiath's stage, her wings the legs of a dancer. She loves acrobatics; she adores the air and the thermals and will navigate through each with a bounce and a twirl and a whirl— that is, until you beg her to quit as you sit atop, becoming nauseated. And she'll beg back, « But I enjoy my flight! I enjoy my dance! »

There are a few quirks you may notice. The first is her love of names. She still has the draconic inability to remember human names, but dragon names may fascinate her. « Where is Ikepriath, today? I-ke-pri-ath. The name is so long, and so … different and interesting. » and « My dam is Noruith, is it not? Noruith. That sounds so— haunting. » The second quirk you may notice within time is that Bailiath either has an ingrown sense of the outcome of situations (situations either dangerous or beneficial), or she's absolutely positive she does. It's like an exaggerated conscience: « I don't think you should do that, Ciym. Really. It doesn't seem like it'll work, and it's just going to turn out wrong, anyway. » or, « I feel something good will happen of this! Go ahead and do it, I really think you should! » You may begin to feel that you'll almost need Bailiath's approval of everything before you go through with it. « No, you can't do it! » or « Yes, you can! »

Polite. Mature. Well-bred. Refined. Yet there is another phrase to describe Bailiath: Out of her mind. During those stretches of a sevenday when her hide glows bright and clear, she may be described (by more than one of the 'riders and their dragons out there) as quite 'out of her mind'. Every male dragon or human, every gentleman she meets she will be sure to claim she adores from first sight. « Now, /he's/ looking mighty handsome today, and absolutely captivating. Won't you go have *Arkadiyth* come over here so I can look at him better, hun? » Once she finally takes to the skies, she will take full advantage of her riderless in-flight dancing abilities— as well as her emotions. Up and up, sideways, back and forth— the dragon that wins her is the dragon that loves to dance as much as she.

Growing Up
Bailiath may have a hard time when you try to explain to her the truth that she is the same as other dragons— at first. She will be stubborn about listening, at an early age. Happily, you will find she will grow out of it, once she is mature. Yet, near the beginning of her life she will not want to listen to anything but herself. « What do you mean we are all the same? Aren't /I/ the most beautiful green? Don't you think so? My hide shines just wonderfully today, without even oiling. No one else's does that, does it, Ciym? »

However, once she does start to understand her nature, she may begin to aspire to be like she has always thought she ought to be. « I have told you I am well bred. Now I will show it to you. » She will grow into what she brags: bowing to elder dragons, making way for younger, respecting people and children. « Could you please tell your rider that I need to make my way through that passage, and that she is blocking it? Thank you. » This may come from a sudden revelation about herself, or just happen gradually, « You know, I— I never thought that I was stubborn. Yet it seems that I am, aren't I? »

Also, to begin with, Bailiath will not understand the purpose of BETWEEN. She enjoys the air. Why should she ever shorten the time her wings flow through the skies? Flying directly is so much more fun, so much better than cutting short the joy of the air with nasty cold and BETWEEN. Her stubborn nature may come into play even when she's learning this hard lesson, and you may need to shove her into what she needs to do. « Alright, but I don't want to do this, I really don't like it at all. Not at all. »

One last thing you may notice during her first mating flight is— music. Is the music in your head? Is it something she's humming, or is it something more than that? Not all flights may be intense enough for you to hear this tune, but it will most likely be there, floating about between your connection to her. « With dance comes music, does it not? »

Why she chose Ciym
Why did Bailiath choose you? Why, is it not just because it was love at first sight; an almost magical moment when you looked into her eyes and found your special dragon — the one that's all your own. No, it's not just that — for as much as she is yours and you are hers — the pair of you are unique and special in a bond that only the other knows. She compliments you. And between the two of you, from Bailiath's own desires for mild pranks, there will no doubt be pranks and mischief /galore/. Ultimately, Bailiath has chosen you because you are the perfect one for her. What does it matter that there were other Candidates on the sands at the time — only YOU can be the other half of her soul; the other side of the coin and the mirror image of who she will be. Only you can help her achieve the ideals of her dreams; and fulfill her promise of well-bred refined tastes.


Saffron swings across your mind, presenting your lifemate's calmness, her excitement, her dreams — every emotion and thought that meets her mind, for each should be shared with her lifemate, nothing kept to herself. Whenever happy or content, the lightened orange steps with white's purity like skirts upon a girl's ankles. With irritation or anger, carmine's fury envelopes her trademark shade, constricting it in a dangerous tango that may threaten your mind with its vehemence. Over the turns, though, those overpowering emotions will remain in check, and she will learn to subdue them with petals' aromas and breeze's breath; the two scents — springtime air and fresh flowers — never falter. More emotions or thoughts of whatever kind only make it stronger. Oh, and her voice. The strong soprano nearly sings her words, each consonant as crisp as her tough demeanor, each vowel as soft as her femininity. She carefully chooses her words — but more so how she will present them. « I believe that Vorshnath is… how shall we say it… refined, my darling, quite refined. » Tangoing carmine, strong thoughts, and lady's scents—that is Bailiath.



Name Spanish Harlem Green Bailiath
Dam Gold Noruith
Sire Brown Ikepriath
Created By Lonriya, Lysa, and L'ia
Impressee C'iym
Hatched December 19, 2002
Igen Weyr
PernWorld MUSH

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