This tiny little critter is really something special. It's colourfull body makes it harder for it to hide so instead of relaying on it's natural camoflauge it kicks up dirt with it's paws and wings to dull down it's colour, it then raises it's tail to blend in with the real flowers.
This dragon is based on this flower: http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-EqWGXj-j2ng/U ... r_1600.jpg
Congratulations Verdana who is now the owner of this little dragon!
There are so many good writers on CS and this was really hard to judge because of it. I loved everybodies entries and I think you all did great, but alas there can only be one winner.
I liked Titanias unique personality and the little story. Great job.
Verdana wrote:Username:
Verdana
Dragons Name:
Titania
In Shakespeare's A Midsummer Night's Dream, Titania is the queen of the fairies. She is proud, passionate and bold. I thought that this name would be perfectly apt for such a fiery-looking little dragon.
Gender:
Titania would be female.
Personality:
This dragon is a force to be reckoned with.
Titania is hot-headed, fiery, sassy, and filled to the brim with attitude. She's always quite certain that she's right, and will not tolerate argument. She's a little dragon with a huge personality, and will challenge anything that stands in her way. Often impulsive, Titania rushes into conflict with no real idea of whether she can win or not, but is usually saved by her sheer tenacity and stubbornness. She is incredibly determined, and will not back down from anything that she has undertaken.
Easily offended, Ti defends her honour to the last. She's prone to sulking, and is not above giving somebody (or something; it doesn't necessarily have to be alive) the cold shoulder if she feels that she has been slighted.
Her fighting spirit isn't always used foolishly, though. Titania is a loyal friend and defender, and will fight on behalf of the wronged. She has a keen sense of fairness, and hates to see injustice done. She will champion any creature she feels to have been treated unfairly, whether they ask for it or not.
Titania is a fierce friend, and a fiercer enemy. She is mercurial in temperament, but steadfast in beliefs.
One certainly doesn't want to be on her bad side.
What would you do with this TCD if you got it:
I wish I could say 'do tons of art', but right now, I've lost my tablet pen, so no art until it's found, alas.
I may not be able to do digital art, but I will sketch her pretty little head everywhere, from my drawing book to my lecture notes.
However, I will treat this little dragon as well as I possibly can. I will develop her character, write stories about her and, if a roleplay is started up based around this species, I will happily include her in interactions with other TCDs. I will do everything I can to make her three-dimensional.
I only intend to get one TCD, so if I get her, my time and energy will be lavished upon her, and I will make sure that she never fades from the public eye. She will live in my signature and character thread, in writing and in my mind.
Short story starring this dragon:
Titania and the Topiary Terrorist
It was a bright, damp morning, and Titania was licking the dew out of the tiger lilies. The dew in the flowers, she always thought, was the sweetest in the world. There was nothing like it. The dewdrops soaked her wings and scales so that she glittered; a diamond queen, inspecting her realm.
But, something was wrong.
There were noises in the distance.
Yappity snappity yip!
Something small and fast and loud and bold was wriggling through the flowers. It passed through the daisies and the crocuses, the roses and the lilacs. It was invisible under the bright blooms, but Titania could track it by its path. As it ran, blossoms took to the air like butterflies. Stems snapped. Branches broke. Something was coming, and it was carving a trail of destruction in its wake.
It passed through the bluebells and the daffodils, the snowdrops and the agapanthuses.
It was almost at the lilies, but Titania would let it get no further.
She scrambled over stems and leaves, through paths that only she knew, to stop the Botanical Brutaliser head-on. She timed it well, and as she came to the edge of the lily patch, there it was, bounding forwards to meet her.
It was white and brown and hairy and wiry, with floppy ears and needly teeth. It bounced like a rabbit, but pounced like a cat, and its scrabbly paws uprooted the flowers.
It sniffed at a lily, and that was enough. Titania attacked.
She flew to the aid of her flowers, hissing and spitting. Her flower-bark stood up. She arched her tail over her neck and splayed her wings, making herself bigger and fiercer and all-around scarier, all to say:
Go away!
The Terrier, Terrorist of Topiary, Foe of the Flowers, stopped with a slide. It tilted its head left, then tilted it right. Its hot tongue lolled. It seemed to smile with merry ignorance as it thought about the funny little thing guarding the flower-bed. It pondered and wondered, and made up its mind.
It bounced forwards and barked.
Titania growled, flapping her wings in 'Go Away' shapes.
It barked again.
Titania hissed, and lunged forwards, intending to scratch the black-pebble nose of the Merry Mutilator. What she did not expect was for the happy little dog to give her a wet, gooey lick.
Titania was knocked back, raising up dust as she fell. She was astonished; horrified. She'd been batted and scratched, but never licked. Flung, yes. Thrown aside, perhaps. But nothing had ever licked her before. The Topiary Terrorist was coming. Its bounds battered the ground. Thumpata tumpity thump. It was coming to finish her off with its hot doggy slime. Titania the Defender was vanquished.
"Hamish! Here, boy!"
The Apical Attacker stopped in its tracks. Its floppity ears lifted. It gave its goofy smile.
"Hamish!"
With one regretful look at his new friend. Hamish, Harmer of Horticulture, ran back to his owner, ravaging roses and carving up crocuses as he went.
Titania got to her paws and dusted herself off with growing pride. She had vanquished her foe. She was the protector of her patch, the true owner of her turf. Proudly she preened, until her scales were clean again and then, with a toss of her tail and a shake of her wings, she skittered back into her lilies with her head raised high and a strut in her stride.
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