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Avet... has found herself annoyed. She has only one form. This isn't the problem, but this is what led to her noticing the problem. There is no way to preview what a dragon will look like. There are species books of birds and bugs and animals - but some of them are sub-par on noting where the dragon's colors go, and miscellaneous gods that she doesn't worship help you if you want to see what your color will look like on the form.
She is going to solve this problem. By taking some surveys. As in, grab photo paper, gather up a list of lines to go visit, and then knock on some doors and ask some questions and create a book series that organizes all possible forms, all known forms, what known lines look like in the forms - that sort of thing.
She starts with blue groups, because blue groups have the most available forms - she's gotten all of the big lines (well, all of the big lines that gave her the time of day) and is on the smaller ones. The ones with only one or two people. Or, in some cases, none.
This particular one's easier than some others; she doesn't need to fly to another country. It's Esmaar. She flies to the address of one 'Avar,' no line name. Apparently he had one and had some kind of explosive spat about it and gave it up. Not that it's her business. He's just another person for her survey.
She knocks on his door.
Oh. That's a proposition. Uh.
She coughs. "Um. You are very handsome and probably have a lovely personality but I'm not really the - casual fling type. Sorry."
She coughs. "Um. You are very handsome and probably have a lovely personality but I'm not really the - casual fling type. Sorry."
goldeneye
Shrug. "Okay. Mother'll be back this evening." He is the very mildly disappointed of someone who does this all the time and runs into people who aren't up for it all the time.
Meanwhile, she's awkward as hell. At least he's not a green group.
"Sure. Thank you for your time."
And away she teleports!
"Sure. Thank you for your time."
And away she teleports!
Avet is very grateful, and thanks her sincerely! And she takes pictures and writes down relevant things and then she is done and teleports away.
Soon enough, she finishes polling all relevant dragons that are willing to participate. Well. 'Soon enough.' It still takes a damn long time, but honestly gathering the information was the easy part. Now she has to compile and organize. Ugh. So much information to sort through and organize...
She does other things while sorting. Reading the paper, for instance. She does that while sorting, it's not like sorting's all that hard. Just tedious.
Soon enough, she finishes polling all relevant dragons that are willing to participate. Well. 'Soon enough.' It still takes a damn long time, but honestly gathering the information was the easy part. Now she has to compile and organize. Ugh. So much information to sort through and organize...
She does other things while sorting. Reading the paper, for instance. She does that while sorting, it's not like sorting's all that hard. Just tedious.
For instance, this section covers various forms of competitions, like the all-Espaal scoot race that takes place once every five years between all the major leagues on the continent. There are profiles of the top five placers, including one whose blurb is mostly about how precocious he is and has been for such a long time.
You'd think they would have stopped writing about it by now, if he's been at it for so long.
... Hey. Wait. No, she recognizes that name. Mialavar? That's the parunia turned shren who challenged her to survey shrens along with dragons. Huh. Good for him, she supposes. She's glad he's enjoying himself being super precocious.
... Hey. Wait. No, she recognizes that name. Mialavar? That's the parunia turned shren who challenged her to survey shrens along with dragons. Huh. Good for him, she supposes. She's glad he's enjoying himself being super precocious.
The next edition of the same newspaper features a dragon in the letters-to-the-editor column, objecting to the "unwarranted" coverage of "unfortunate" individuals who would be better served to be allowed to privately nurse their affliction rather than having it trotted out on the continental stage to upset readers and embarrass the subject.
... What.
What?
Privately nurse their affliction. Rather than having it trotted out on the continental stage. To upset readers and embarrass the subject?
...
She's not usually one to write to newspapers, but this time she's going to make an exception.
The letter she writes is six pages long. Six. It contains such highlights as, "I for one enjoy reading a newspaper that doesn't have the moral compass of a frightened deer so afraid of a mere word on a paper that they wish for the entire rest of the world to move beneath their feet to protect them from it," and, "I fail to see how celebrating a several decade long achievement in a sport that takes quite a lot of skill and practice can, in any way, be for the purpose of embarrassing the subject," and, "For similar reasons I fail to see how anything your paper has written is unwarranted - perhaps if your journalists were tackling people in the street to interview for the sake of drama and ratings, it would be unwarranted, but anything less here is failing to report an actual event fueled entirely by prejudice." Then she blatantly is a dragon for a paragraph or two, then she signs it in Draconic, just to be obnoxious.
She only realizes after she sent it that she maybe lost her temper there.
Finnah brings Mial that copy of the newspaper (he tends to stop watching them so closely after one letter to the editor on the subject of himself has gone through).
shrennaki
Mial sits down and composes a letter to Avet.
Hey,
Couldn't help noticing your recent letter to the editor. How many angry dragons have written to you about it so far? It's only been a few days, but lizards move fast.
Mial