Resplendent Machiavellian Brown Roussanth

Nigh to cromcoal black, satiny loam covers the majority of this young dragon's blocky, angular form. Dark hues grizzle from smooth peat-and-coal shades along shoulders and haunches to a lightened, textured shade burgeoning on empurpled terra cotta along legs and paws, a shade reminiscent of the volcanic rock scoria. Hints of ginger and hazel streak along the tilt of an angular head, blurring with mahogany that stains muzzle tip and smudges across rounded head knobs before marching down the strong crested arch of his lengthy neck. Umber traces dark shadows over a massive chest and strong shoulders, molded to a slightly narrowed waist before arching out again over well-muscled flanks. Sturdy wings are mottled in beige and sand along the wingsail membranes, a coloring which lightens into more olivine hues along the outermost sails; the intermittent fingerbones are of the same cromcoal as the rest of this dragon's form. Glinting and sharp, pure black talons extend from pure mahogany toes, angular and sharp as the rest of him.

Egg Name and Description

World Above the Clouds Egg
On the base of this egg- or rather, above it, as it seems to be listlessly gliding— is a cloak of cloud, a soft, foggy shroud caressing the world that it hides. The misty curtain soars towards the apex for what would be an eternity, were it not for the large swipes of rusty brown that shoot up from beneath and into a pool of serene blues, tufts of jade and emerald decorating their craggy surfaces. The most prominent of these peaks, strangely enough, is obscured by a shapeless mass of white bright enough to make the haze and fog beneath look gray. In fact, the other mountainous structures are also blotted with blotches of color, from aged copper to the hue of fresh soil; even those blotches have blotches mounted upon them. Further examination might allow for similar inconsistencies to be spotted, but far more distracting is the sea of sapphire that swims around it all and up to the apex.

Hatching Message

Hatching Message
While some of the other hatchlings may be satisfied with the garish popping and splintering of their eggs, the hatchling inside World Above the Clouds Egg seems to prefer otherwise. After a long, still silence, a delicate, tactful tapping begins at the apex of the egg. Tap, tap, tap… And then the egg falls neatly-in comparison to the other eggsapart, allowing a Resplendent Machiavellian Brown Hatchling to make its way onto the sand before it.

Impression Message

A brilliant display of green and red lights bursts into your mind, swirling round in fluid gold and silver. « I would like to know the probability that you, the perfect one, would be waiting for me when I hatched. One in one million? Two in nine hundred and forty three thousand and one? » the smooth voice of Roussanth flashes through your thoughts. The lights blink and dance merrily and eagerly, but are soon overcome by an undeniable sense of hunger. « But first, food! »


Your Roussanth is smart. Very smart, really, and with a surprisingly good memory— for a dragon, that is. And while he /is/ a rather modest fellow, he'll often ask for your opinion on his own almost haughty assumptions. « True or false: I could trick Sirdasuth into biting his own tail. No? What about biting Mekyszereth's tail? » In fact, he takes pride in his own modesty, allowing for a paradox that is really only revealed to you, for to you alone will he share his silent pride, and even then in the most subtle ways he can contrive. « I was helping Rosselith today, » he might tell you, doing his best not to sound like a braggart, « to remember her plans for that girl of hers. » After such a statement, he may tactfully wait a moment for your praise of his helpful mannerisms before he continues in an attempt to transform a light-hearted boast into simply a recounting of his day. « She fancies Vorshnath, you know, and her plan is to somehow make a pair of hers and his so that perhaps Vorshnath may be more keen on winning her next flight. It really is an ingenious plan. You would know so if you heard the details. » This side of him that so desperately and secretly yearns for your praise is a significant contrast from the humble-but-knowledgeable Roussanth that others see. When debating a point with others (a surprisingly frequent occurrence that really only happens because he is so sure of himself when it comes to straight facts), he will quickly defer to another's argument, if only because he knows this humble attitude can make his opponent in such a situation less stubborn. With you, however, he will be far more persistent. « Trust my judgement. That girl of Delduahnth's is not one to be trifled with. » That's not to say that you /shouldn't/ trust his judgement, of course, because to do so is certainly a good idea; after all, Roussanth is always full of information, and he goes out of his way to find out more and more. It's a passion of his in which he's constantly trying to get you to partake. He's willing to go to any lengths to get you to go to Landing, and often laments that Aivas was before his time. « I really do sometimes wish that you and I had been alive then. It would have been such a pleasure to talk to the Aivas, really. Think of all it did for Pern! » And although he claims that his interest in Landing is purely for the purpose of learning, he also recognizes and utilizes it as a major location for people of the Crafts, and therefore place to hear new music. He'll often prompt you to look into files on the music of the Ancients, and other times he'll simply lurk somewhere where a Harper happens to be teaching a song to a group of students. His adoration of music and the arts (and his incessant urging for you to appreciate such things), though, will never compare to his love of facts, for even while he listens to one of his favorite songs, he might muse, « Did you know that one thousand seven hundred and thirty-three people came to Pern on board the Yokohama? » But of course, that love of facts will always come second to his one true love: you. And nothing will stop him from letting you know that. « Aerin, you are beautiful. I love you. »

In the first month or two of his life with you, Roussanth may have a problem: namely, his love of information may get in the way of helping you take care of him. For instance, while the other young weyrlings are letting their lifemates know that they need food, Roussanth might be more concerned with examining the difference in texture of the walls of certain parts of the weyrling complex in order to discern at what point in time certain sections were created and with what tools. Likewise, he may fail to notify you when a certain patch of skin is in particular need of oiling, instead preferring to just watch a family of trundlebugs scuttle along through the grass. And while this disinterest in keeping up with his own hygiene may seem at first a sign of a terrible memory, in truth it's just a habit that he'll quickly grow out of. After all, he's got a particularly good memory for a dragon, and he'll show it off after each and every weyrling lesson in all of which he'll listen closely, of course. « No, no, Lassedeth! Morjidath said that if you flap your wings too quickly, you'll wear out. » Occasionally, he'll even quote the weyrlingmaster word-for-word nearly a sevenday after a lesson. For certain, he'll be a quick learner, eager to absorb all the information flung your way during weyrlinghood. As the weyrlings get older, though, minor troubles may arise. Because of Roussanth's passion for facts and truth, when the other weyrlings are discovering the joys of flirting, his attempts to woo will be awkward at best. « Kishijotenth, I must say… Your head is slightly too small for your body. But it flatters you! » Naturally, he'll come to you for advice in this area, all the while reminding you not to get carried away with yourself. « You really should just find one nice partner and settle down. No more of this shameless flirting. I mean, if that man /says/ he's 'unseduceable', why can't you just believe him? Although I /really/ don't think it's an actual word. » It could be, of course, that he's just a bit jealous of others to whom you lend your attention; if his only successful attempts at flirting are with you, why should you be able to flirt with someone else? Fortunately, as he grows more mature, he'll learn to understand that there's a big difference, because he could never feel for another what he feels for you. Even when your lessons and examples might turn his flirting into a success… he won't know where to go from there and will find reason to be distracted away from the conversation so that he can return to you. « Well, that was fun. Want to go to Landing now? »

Why he chose Aerin?
Even Roussanth, with his undying quest for knowledge, would never question himself on why he chose you over everyone else. For all that he loves knowing all the details and facts before making a decision, it's a given that you were just… right. A hunch, if you will. So should /you/ ever take the time to ask Roussanth, "Why?" he'll simply reply with a one-word question of his own. « Who? » For who else could ever had made him as happy as /you/ make him? You complete him perfectly, or as he'll put it, « You are the supplementary angle to my right angle. » After all, while it sometimes may seem like you have different interests, you have the ability to help him where he fails and vice versa. But when it comes down to it, both of you are one and the same: ninety degrees.


Your Roussanth's soothing mind voice is a tranquil, musical baritone that flows smoothly and seamlessly through the mind. Slippery streams of liquid silver slide simultaneously along with each word, mimicking each thought's pace and therefore moving at a speed that is slow but smooth, rather than laborious. Occasionally his words will be tinged with excitement, echoed by golden leaves that sprout avidly from amid the river and soon melt into its current. However, these warm streams of silver and gold truly come alive with each thought concerning facts that he has recently learned or has yet to discover, for then the rivers will accelerate and shoot off sparks of vibrant reds, oranges, greens, and blues in eager flashes of suspense and exhilaration. You alone will be witness, though, to the faint crimson that seeps into the gentle creek of Roussanth's thoughts when he voices his concerns and fears to you. Meanwhile, there is a deep, pleasing hum that dwells in each word and beneath the surface of the river.


Name Resplendent Machiavellian Brown Roussanth
Dam Gold Isisth
Sire Bronze Vorshnath
Created By K'loh
Impressee Aerin
Hatched July 24, 2003
Igen Weyr
PernWorld MUSH

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