“We had more freedom then.” She admitted. “That was nice, wasn’t it? I could take what I wanted, creatures of interest.”
“Building your ark.” Imraan grinned again. “I still think that is a better name.”
“Platos is pretty. It has a nice ring to it.”
| Name Platos | |
| Age In her prime | |
| Appearance Platos is a tall and commanding presence, easily standing over Shy and most of the other women in the Labs. She has warm golden skin and shoulder length sandy hair that is normally worn in a very casual and stubby ponytail. She prefers to dress in pale desert colors and loose, flowing materials. But she does have a weakness for fur, no matter how inappropriate the weather may be. | |
| Personality Platos is loud and opinionated. She can normally be found gossiping and complaining about the order of things wit Monique and Ari, or drinking Atlas and Imraan under the table. She is one of the oldest Projects, and has been a prevalent presence in the Labs- despite her youthful appearance, most of the other projects treat her like a big aunt. Or sometimes like a grandmother. She is staunchly loyal to Shy, and enjoys what she does. She doesn’t quite agree with some of his policies, but not strongly enough to stage a coup. | |
| Ability Platos is known as the Ark. Because she literally collects creatures, two by two. Largely responsible for working with Imraan the architect and Whistle the landscaper to form and colonize the Vella Crean, her gift can sometimes be innocuous enough as taking genetic samples (two by two) of people and creatures she has met, or sometimes she goes as far as kidnapping individuals to bring back to the labs. |
The Vella Crean was back. Busy, chaotic, so full of life- and so full of new breeds and mutts.
Platos was careful to make sure she touched every single one of the new hybrids that had naturalized themselves to the Vella Crean. The raptors, who had developed natural camouflage to blend with the surroundings. The birds that took to the skies and seemed to have developed very unique markings and patterns. And the grazers! The herdbeasts from Pern, the cows from Earth, so readily intermixed and adapted.
“It is quite the chaotic mix.” Whistle remarked.
“But beautiful, is it not? To see the breeds and lines that have prospered in this world.”
“The war probably furthered the evolution.” Imraan remarked.
“True, but a war between dragons and dragonriders; it has still left most of the planet untouched.”
The trio sat on a high ledge of the main towers, overlooking the horizon. The beaches that ahd been carefully cultivated, the mountains that rose as ragged peaks, the dips and valleys home to flora and fauna the trio had selected from their archives and records.
“It is not a bad result.” Platos mused. “Although if I could do it all over again-“
“I would not bring in the raptors.”
Platos laughed at the dark mutterings of the ordinarily placid and quiet landscaper. “The omnivorous hybrids have not destroyed your gardens, Whistle. I am sure it was the attacks of the Death Court, not a group of highly intelligence land animals.”
“You would defend your raptors, Platos. It was your idea to introduce them to this world.”
Platos smirked. “They are quite adorable, no?”
Whistle was spared a response when a small Pigeon popped into existence. “Master is calling!” she chirped, disappearing again in a burst of dust.
Sighing, Platos stood, nodding her head. “Come on, let’s get to work.”
—
Platos, tall and rangy, golden hued. Imraan, broad and colorful with his tattoos that seemed to move and shift. Whistle. Small, golden, with dark eyes that glittered with annoyance and complaints.
“Remember when people feared us?” Whistle groused.
Imraan grinned. “When we were young and hot headed?”
“Ambitious?” Platos offered with a laugh.
The three sat side by side on a low bench, looking out over the glass into the temporary hatching sands set up within the Labs.
“It was better then, wasn’t it?” Whistle asked.
Imraan paused. “Was it?” he asked in return. “We did not have names, then. Shy was not so renown. We were simply shadows, working in the darkness, building homes.”
Platos stretched, watched as an egg carefully hatched, a dark bronze paw reaching out and waving, testing the open air. “We had more freedom then.” She admitted. “That was nice, wasn’t it? I could take what I wanted, creatures of interest.”
“Building your ark.” Imraan grinned again. “I still think that is a better name.”
“Platos is pretty. It has a nice ring to it.”
She leaned forward, conversation forgotten as she watched the tiny bronze hatchling creep out, tentative and wary as it sniffed the eggs around it. “I thought they were supposed to be guard dogs.”
“Guard dragons.” Whistle correctly, sniffed. “You cannot go around calling such creatures dogs.”
“He is still young yet. Maybe he’ll grow into his strength and bravery.” Imraan stood, walking over to the ledge, his hands hovering over the balcony. The stone shivered, melted, turning into a flight of stairs down towards the sands. “Do you want to take a closer look?”
Platos stared, and shook her head. “No, they are far too cowardly looking.”
—
Her skin itched.
It tingled, as if it was growing too small to hold her and it was time to shed.
It was not a normal feeling, and Platos scowled as she strode down the hallways. A tall and slim figure stopped in front of her, blocking her path.
“Where is he?” she demanded.
Ari arched a brow. “Busy, as you know. What do you need.”
Platos rubbed at her arm, the soft silk of her shirt too scratchy against her skin. “I need to unload.”
The brow, if possible, rose higher. “I thought your containment was limitless.”
Platos’ scowl darkened. “I’m supposed to carry DNA and living creatures. Not this.” She scratched again. “Zombie dragons. They need to be unloaded somewhere.”
It made her itch.
The Death Court dragons in their variety, some shifted further along the spectrum than others, who still resembled their original Light, Dark, Blood Court forms. The sickly shades and the crown of horns that marked them as new, as different. She had admired them even on the unfortunate day of the hatching, and had continued to admire them afar.
Collect them, he had cajoled. The zombie dragons that the pretty looking bluerider had raised. The ones caught by Kip and the twins at the Vella Crean. Keep them safe.
It had not bothered her, in the beginning. She was used to storing data, animals to be rehomed, reintroduced.
She remembered the days when she could take as freely as she wanted, not constrained by diplomacy and rules.
But this. The Death Court.
They itched.
“I’ll find you a place to unload.” Ari answered quietly. “But it can’t be here. Not so close to the Empress. The Red Mage will find out what we are doing, and she will not approve.”
Platos nodded her head tightly. “Soon. I need to get them out of my system.”
—
Platos closed her eyes and ignored the overly perfumed form that stood by her side. She wrinkled her nose and studiously tried to ignore them even harder, even when said perfume wafted over her body, almost as if the owner was leaning over her.
Her eyes snapped open to find feline green ones staring back at her with amusement.
“How do you feel my dear?” he crooned.
Platos closed her eyes again. “Bloated. Better. But it will take some time to work out the toxins.” She never reacted this way. “I think Naxi’im has done something to his Death Court. They just don’t sit right with me.”
She heard tinkling, associated it with Shy nodded his head, the fragile glass beaded earrings making the noise as he did so.
“He used the Labs. Mixed remains. I’ve concocted a tincture, so that this manner of indigestion doesn’t happen again.” His eyes hardened.
They were always hard and cold when he spoke of the Death Court. When he thought of the blue dragon that hurt his city.
(Platos knew the city was an old woman who lived in the top tower who seemed more than happy with her new boy toy of a nurse)
“How long will that take?”
“A week? Two. As long as you stay away from Death Court dragons for a month, you should not face any adverse reactions.”
Platos snorted. “Do you want me to hide down here, in the Labs? While the city goes to hell?”
Shy shook his head. “You could go on a trip. A vacation.”
Platos knew exactly what a vacation meant to Shy. Two dozen new creatures to find and bring back home. Her eyes narrowed. Hunting for the weird and the unusual, sometimes the overly spiky in the dark.
“What do you need?” she asked, suspicion coating her words.
Shy beamed. “The nagas have found some things that may be of interest to us. Abilities we can add to the Imperial Guards. Or… improvements down the line.”
The nagas? Platos frowned. “You don’t need me to go there. You have the Court Dragons. The little albino one is coming home soon, isn’t she? Can’t she fetch?” she watched the Scientist’s face shift to one of care. “You want samples from that world that they wouldn’t approve of.”
“Maybe.”
She frowned. “There are monsters there?”
“So they say. It might be worth, to go take a look. See if you can bring me something back. Only if you have the time of course.” Shy’s lips curved into a smile.
—
While Vine and Stone considered their options, another egg split open and spilled a mottled grey onto the sands. She scrambled to her feet and glanced around with wide eyes, darting behind Aethet’s legs to peer out at the remaining candidates with calculating eyes.
Aethet twisted her head around to give the Steam a considering look, then huffed and declared, “You’re a Scamp, I can already tell.”
Scamp flashed a bright, mischievous grin up at her mother, then darted out towards the candidates, barreling right past Vine and giving her best leap right onto Platos.
“Careful!” Platos urged as she gathered Scamp up in her arms and examined the hatchling thoughtfully. “Alright there?”
“Uh-huh! Knew you’d catch!” Scamp chirped as she nuzzled closer and coiled curiosity-excitement-wonder about Platos’ mind. “Cause yer mine,” she added with self-satisfaction.
Parents: Unknown
Adult Name: Symios
Clutch Name: Scamp
Personality: distinctive, rascally, enterprising
Element: Steam
Gender: Female
Potential Colors: Greys
Abilities:
Steam Jet – a blast of superheated steam
Illusion based magics – Illusions, glamours, and things derived from that
Steam-based Teleportation – requires steam nearby to teleport
Linked Teleportation – the ability to link with another teleporter and be brought along as a passenger
Projective Empathy – can project emotions to those around them, with practice can pick up emotions as well
Drakkarel’s Gift – the ability to share their Elemental-based skills with any bond
Verbal Speech