Violin

Vi 	Vi
 	
artist 	☁️
background 	background
creator 	☁️
attribute 	longing
element 	air
animal 	bottlenose dolphin
color 	blues & purples
character 	character
age 	uncertain
gender 	female
orientation	demisexual
occupation 	resident ghost
tribe 	night.sea
goal 	to see the world
residence 	abandoned house in sanctuary
relatives 	nightweaver and seafoam
abilities 	phase through walls, manipulate objects
loves 	n/a
quote 	why can't i leave?
:not every haunted house is a thing to fear...
This dragonet is for the Cliché Breaking Contest, and focuses on breaking the moonborn, tragic life, and JMA dragonet cliches. It is also a weak attempt to break the horror story mold, with a ghost that isn't out for blood.
:.appearance.
Violin is a wispy spirit - always at least a little transparent despite her best efforts. She's almost nonexistent, her body letting light through like stained glass.
Her scales are a blur of light blue and purples, all swirled in the periwinkle range. It covers her scales indiscriminately, over her horns and her underbelly in slight variations, even the wave like webbing running down her back. Her scales are covered with even lighter stars.
Her wings are different, dark blue and covered with dots and spirals. The patterns look aquatic, and glow softly in dim light - if they're visible. The wings have thick membranes, looking almost heavy.
Her entire body is rounded, with soft edges and a gently curving frame. A soft, fleshy appendage rises from her head, a glowing bauble attached to the end. It bobs gently, just between her soft yellow eyes.
A soft haze of starry air surrounded her, suggesting that she belongs somewhere else, somewhere her mind is not yet willing to go.
:.personality.
A dragonet affected by years of having her voice unheard, Vi is silent. She doesn't talk often, for only she hears her voice. She's always surprised by the eloquence of the words that flow from her, how beautiful she sounds if only she would talk.
She's developed to be independent, figuring out problems on her own. Without anyone to help her, she has to, and the result is a reliance on only her own ethereal body to help her mind complete its wishes.
That doesn't mean she likes the loneliness, it's quite the opposite. While the house is long since abandoned, she often remembers the dragonets that has wandered through its halls. She's often possessed with the wish to have herself be known, held back only by the knowledge that they would run away.
She has the ability to concentrate quickly and completely, a practice needed to manipulate objects. She has a strong mental reserve, built up through the days and nights of practicing, hoping one day the door would swing open under her gaze.
She's quite the intelligent dragonet, built up by the sheer boredom of being in isolation. Armed only with the materials in her house, she is skilled in both music and math, two subjects her parents seemed to have simply adored. Her logical faculties are honed as well, from simply thinking in circles for hours on end.
She's a musical dragonet, often mindlessly floating to her now somewhat damaged violin. She enjoys playing the instrument, filling the house with a sound that she can create. She's not too creative of a mind, but enjoys trying to create new songs, carefully experimenting to find the most beautiful melody.
Then there's the burning sensation inside her. The constant, tugging thought that wants to drag her outside. She's memorized everything in the house - from the growing cobwebs to the placement of every book. But outside, that world is still a mystery.
And it bothers her so much. She wants an escape, she wants to explore and see the sunlight past the warping of the glass. She wants to leave, and it's consumed her.
Yet for some reason, the house keeps her contained, the lid on her freedom still fully attached.
:.backstory.
Violin's parents were two dragons with the perfect tale of happiness.
They were born in the same town, although they never saw each other. However, as both were willing to explain, they went to the same violin teacher. They were brought together by chance, on their first duet. At that time, they were strangers.
However, over the years, this changed. The two were soon uneasy acquaintances, thrown off by their differences. Then, slowly, friends. They performed together often, for although their personalities did not quite mesh, their music certainly did.
It was fate, Nightweaver insisted, that she would fall in love with Seafoam.
The two violinists were what the world considered an unstoppable duel, supporting each other and growing in eloquence with every performance. They finally settled, in Sanctuary.
And Seafoam proposed.
They had gotten used to married life for a few years before the egg came. The result was immediate - both promised to give the dragonet the best life they could. 
When Violin hatched, she was an oddity. Adorable, pale, and with that odd, glowing appendage on the top of her head. She was almost instantly swaddled in hugs, surrounded with soft coos and gentle words.
She never really left the house. Her parents feared for her, as the persecution of hybrids was common and a terrifying occurrence. She was hidden away in their house, entertained with thick books and curious toys. They hoped she wouldn't turn her head to the outside world, where the darkness in dragons could display itself.
But she didn't understand.
Violin wanted more. She didn't want to learn her namesake instrument with her parents - rather, she wanted to see the work of someone outside. She wished to feel the texture of the grass underneath her talons, stare up into the sky until her eyes hurt from sun, and feel the chill of the breeze without a window separating her.
Nightweaver was always there, explaining gently. The world was a place she wasn't ready for. She was different, and although that didn't make her worse than the other dragonets, it meant that she needed to be careful. Because the others didn't understand.
Violin never responded, except bite her lip and nod.
But every night, she would crane her neck to see the stars, promising that, one day, she would fly up and touch them. Every night, she chose something else that she would feel the day she would leave. She was excited, so very excited, for the moment her parents would let her go free.
Violin wanted more. She didn't want to learn her namesake instrument with her parents - rather, she wanted to see the work of someone outside. She wished to feel the texture of the grass underneath her talons, stare up into the sky until her eyes hurt from sun, and feel the chill of the breeze without a window separating her.
It was a promise she poured into those dark nights, even as she practiced her violin. There was a layered quality to her vows - she would go out there one day. She would see beyond that view from the window. There was a world outside this house - and she needed to touch it.
Then the old, heavy bookshelf she was reading next to toppled, brought down by its own weight.
They said that she didn't feel it. Perhaps there was a sharp pain for a moment, but then nothing. She didn't suffer, not for long. But Vi was gone. The funeral was a private affair, her body buried in silence. Her parents mourned, but left. And the house was empty.
Except she wasn't gone.
Vi woke in her house, awareness fading in. The ghostliness had long been accepted by her subconscious mind, and she failed to be surprised by what she was now. The dragonet, her mind still stuck in a four year old's, wandered.
She floated through the house, absentmindedly looking for an exit. But... she never found one. She could slip through walls, but fell short, an impassable barrier stopping her from reaching the outside. It was then that she realized why she was there.
The dragonet had made a promise to see the outside world. The vow that vibrated through every fiber of her being. And it managed to keep her soul firmly, if not entirely, on the planet.
She would stay until that promise was realized.
A family moved in not long after. Unaware of the buried body in their backyard, they settled. But they didn't touch her room. All the old furniture was shoved in, and the door shut.
Her violin was there... and between staring out the window and searching for an escape, she stared longingly at that violin. She wanted to play it - to revel in what she had managed to learn from three years of living.
It took months, but she figured it out. How to think just right - and make her body just solid enough to play a symphony. But the family in the house didn't take her presence lightly. Declaring the house haunted, they left, just like her parents.
And Vi was left alone once more.
Families came in and left, cementing the house further as one of the cursed. They feared the ghost, and left her to her devices... until at last, it was left empty once more.
And Vi started cleaning. She organized the interior, to take her mind off her untouchable goal. She swept the dust when she could, and watched spiders eating when she couldn't.
Bit by bit, she started gaining control. She could manipulate objects, move them with her intangible talons. And maybe one day... she could leave the accursed house forever. Just... open the door and see the world.
If only she could figure out how...
:.relations.
Nightweaver - Her mother. The dragon who always explained away why she couldn't do this, or that, or anything, really. Vi loves her mother, appreciates the violin lesson... but simply wishes she could have been let outside.
Seafoam - Violin's father. He seemed a bit more distant than Nightweaver, secondary and following the NightWing's lead. Again, he's well loved, with that small, bitter tremor for he never let her sneak outside to play.
Tanager - The SkyWing dragonet who had discovered how warm it was when she was 'inside' Vi. She often tried to find this 'warm spot' to curl up and read. Her parents dragged her from the house before long, worried. Vi wishes that she would come back - she seemed like she could be a friend.
Lime - A RainWing dragonet who had played with her violin and broke a string. Vi absolutely despises him. In retaliation, she managed to send a bookshelf hurtling towards the ground. And although it missed him, at least the family left soon after.
Spark - A SandWing. He was around six, with an attitude to match. He often complained to the air, although he sometimes directed his irritations towards the ghost haunting the house. Violin always listened, sometimes responding with words he couldn't hear. She wanted to comfort him somehow, but that ability was beyond her.
:.trivia.
- was named after the instrument both her parents play
- can sort of taste things by floating through them repeatedly
- the air around her is noticeably warmer
- can shout and talk, but isn't really heard by anyone else
-entertains the thought that another ghost pushed the bookshelf onto her
- often has thoughts on the meaning of life, doesn't really have much to do
- has read every book in the house or book that has been in the house despite difficulties turning pages
- usually stays fully invisible, just so someone visiting the house wouldn't be immediately terrified
:.gallery.
ViolinCloud2.png
violinpixcloud.png
Category:Characters
Category:Females
Category:LGBT+
Category:Dragonets
Category:NightWings
Category:SeaWings
Category:Hybrids
Category:Deceased
Category:Work in Progress