ORIGIN - [Winter in Polaris] FATHER-SON SNOW FIGHT

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In a few short words: Svartis was having the literal best day of his life.

Bone had come back from Polaris with Carja in tow, excitedly regaling him with stories of their adventures. There'd been a fair bit of details, but the black dragon focused in on only one: the snow. Until now, Pisces was really the only cave to ever have even a powder-coat of it - and that was three cycles of the year. His (and his mother's) permafrosted den was wonderful, but it was still artificial. There was something particularly special about seeing it in its natural state.

The massive beast's tail was wagging like a dog's as he wing-galloped through the drifts, scattering chunks of packed snow to the blustering winds. His fins were fully flared, eyes practically glowing with eagerness. Svartis took a running leap and dove into a pile of snow, practically burying his upper half in it.

With all his excitement and shaking himself loose of snow, his magicka sparked with a single thought: this is great! It drew moisture from the air and started to bring a snowstorm together - for now, though, it was just fat snowflakes spiraling from some vague point above him. Good enough anyways! Svartis buried his head back in the snow, pushing through it like some kind of scaly dog.
backdated to... idk before azigh summons the gembound
idk what day it is

Dread was circling, back from a rest, and staring down with suspicion. Someone, yesterday, had summoned a BANANA at him. Out of nowhere! A ROTTEN banana! And he was afraid they might do it again; and so, he was skirting the edges of the snowstorm only carefully.

He had tried to steal one of the warding crystals; he still wanted one. But he was wary of potential strangers in the snow.

What he saw, though at first unclear, after a moment resolved into familiarity. That was a dragon--possibly one of his family? -Yes, there he was, Svartis, and-...

...What was he doing?

"-WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!" Dread screeched down.

It was not demeaning, or even demanding. He was not that sort of dragon; he had never been a controlling parent, only vaguely, confusingly educational and protective, mostly a 'free spirit--here you are, kid, here's some food, i'm leaving for a few hours' kind of father.

However, Svartis bounding, fins out, through snow was completely bizarre, and Dread circled in bewilderment, staring down at him.

@Svartis

Oh - here's Dad! Svartis was mid-dolphin dive at the screech, and started scrabbling to shove the rest of the way through. It was a whole lot like a kid in a pool, going for that one last swim across before getting out. His head emerged from the other side of the drift, completely coated with snow. Icy eyes twisted up to see the man of the hour circling high above. "IT'S SNOW!" he crowed up, with no small amount of enthusiasm.

Rather than wait for Dread to (not) come down and join him, the black dragon stood up fully, shook himself off, and flapped up to meet him. A grin twisted the edges of his snout, and he practically chirped, "Bone told me about it - she was with Carja playing in it. I've made snow before, but I've never seen so much!" Svartis dove abruptly, performing a neat spiral of eagerness. Practically "running" circles around his poor dad.

All the while, he was still casting - urging more snow to fall. More, more, MORE! It was picking up into a pretty nice flurry.

Svartis was an ice dragon. Like Asimona.

Dread was a fire dragon. He stared at Svartis, who was yelling IT'S SNOW--and to this, Dread's only response was a loud, complaining, (and more childish than his son's younger voice by far) "IT'S COLD."

He drew his magicka about himself like a cloak, pausing to hover for a moment; the temperature rose a tad, and he flapped there, not leaving that tiny pocket of very-slightly-warmer air. "WHY ARE YOU IN IT?" (and then even Dread realized this was a dumb question; Svartis was an ice dragon; "DO YOU KNOW HOW IT GOT HERE?"

This last was a genuine, almost suspicious question. The dragon was looking around, ember eyes searching the corners of Polaris. What had brought this bitter cold?

More importantly... would it spread..?

Indeed. They were fire and ice. Complete opposites of one another. It came as no surprise that Dread didn't like it. He didn't like a lot of things, but being cold was one of them. Svartis liked being cold, and said as much: "I think it's nice!"

The black dragon tilted on his wings, circling around underneath his father. For a brief moment, he considered being a bastard and casting a chunk of ice at Dread - but that seemed like a mistake. Snow could be pretty harmless, but not fire (not that he thought his dad would do such a thing, no -)

"How it got - um, no?" Svartis dragged his tail down, braking to hover in place. "I mean, the wind's bringing it? I don't know where the wind's coming from, though." He hadn't tried to, y'know, fly through it. Why bother when you could play in the snow?

@Dread

Dread turned, regarding the snowstorm with vague suspicion as Svartis spoke.

"THERE'S CRYSTALS," he informed his son in his customary screeching roar (which really had no reason); "HERE. LOOK!"

The dragon turned, drifting down at a low glide, flapping to keep himself airborne once he passed out of his little pocket of warmer updraft. Bass thuds echoed Svartis' own wingbeats, and Dread soared lower, hind legs sweeping down as he slowed, as his tail flipped up and back, talons settling in the snow.

He immediately squalled his disapproval, a short, anguished roar, because cold sucked; and then he shook himself irritably as he rocked forward, landing on his wings.

The dragon wing-walked rapidly toward the nearest glowing, floating crystal, the things holding back the wind, and the worst of the snow. "I can't TAKE IT," he complained, loudly, looking back at his son. "Magic just falls off it!" And then, eyeing Svartis, faint fatherly regard flickering over him (he didn't know what these things could do): "Be careful."

He looked forward again, shaking his fins; heat raised the temperature around him by a couple of degrees, but it wasn't nearly enough.

Crystals? Like ice? Svartis's eyes widened. For whatever odd reason, his innate instinct to hoard (because, c'mon, he's a dragon) erred towards ice and crystals. He wasn't as enthralled by gold and jewelry like Dread. Maybe Svartis was just focused on aesthetics... ?

In any case, he followed right after his dad and landed with a rumble that was just as eager as Dread was anguished by putting his feet in the cold. Svartis turned to look at him for a moment, offering gently, "maybe you'll get used to it... ?" Who was he kidding? He never got used to the blistering heat of Monoceros - just tolerated it more (and cast way more magic that was actually opposite to his father's, yet again.)

It was sorely tempting to throw a glob of snow at Dread again - but the dragon resisted. It was time to look. Svartis wing-waddled to stand next to his father, tilting his head like a bird. How had he not seen this before? No wonder it looked like there was a wall of pure white.

"Did you try just grabbing it?" he suggested, like that wasn't anyone's first guess at what to do. Slow blink. Ah - "maybe... it has eyes?" If his dad wanted it... he'd try to take it; but, all stealth-like. Svartis hunkered down one second, and almost vanished in the next. He was still casting a massive dragon-shaped shadow on the pearly-white snow and leaving wide, arcing footprints, but he was sneaking up on this crystal.

He made his approach, and made to just - grab it with his mouth.

@Dread

"Nooo, watch," Dread lamented (which actually meant yes, but that it hadn't worked).

The dragon pushed his snout to the crystal, sniffing at it: hot breath fogged its surface. But the moment he lunged, trying to seize it in his jaws, it was like it... shifted; his jaws were pushed back, closing on nothing, like some invisible barrier lay between him and the glowing stone.

"I can't get it," he complained, and he clearly wanted it. "It has magic, I think. Protecting it."

He tried to warm himself again, tilting his head this way and that, but his distraction--or lack of reliable magic, at the moment--wasn't enough; he felt the chill biting into his scales, and he shivered.

The crystal seemed to lean away from his jaws, too, and Svartis leered at it. Natural coloration fading back into view, he squinted. "Yeah," he agreed halfheartedly - because there wasn't much more he could say on that. Ice and illusion was just about all he had in magical knowledge.

It was curious though, how he could step past some sort of invisible barrier and have half of himself being absolutely battered by wind, and the other half just feeling a slight breeze. "Maybe... it's a shield?" The dragon ducked out of the blizzard.

"... someone's gotta take it down eventually, right?" Like one of those Masters, or... ? "It's weird. I've never seen crystals float like that." Except for by the Spire, but he didn't think of it in that moment.

@Dread

Snow felt like something that existed only to desecrate the warmth. Dread grumbled irritably, tilting his head and struggling to turn his attention back to the weird crystal.

"A shield... All of them! Maybe. Yes," he agreed. His son--his whole family--was smarter than he was and Dread held no resentment for that. He was glad that Svartis was maybe here to figure this out, in fact.

"Maybe we can BOTH TAKE ONE. If we can find out how," he added, in a spark of inspiration. More crystals meant more dragon-loot, right-? The question was... how did they work?

He prodded at it, circled it, wincing at the cold--trying to draw the heat around him like a blanket, again; but he couldn't figure this out, at all. At least he was a little warmer, now, the air around him not quite toasty, but not as frigid as it'd been before.

@Svartis

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