Izzie is loud. She's unmistakable, even at a distance - that bright red face makes it impossible for her to get lost in a crowd. The scribe doesn't particularly mind this as she likes to be front-row to the action. Her smooth base coat is an off-grey color with subtle variations in shade while her wings, back, and rump are a deep dusty blue. Both knees on her forelegs are also blue, heading up in a relatively straight line along her shoulder to meet with the joint of her wings.

The top of her tail blends in with the blue of her rump, fading to a dull grey at its tips. Izzie's mane is half grey and half red, as if she'd spilled a bottle of brilliant ruby ink into her hair. The feathers of her blue wings are accentuated by darker navy points and her dainty hooves are all the same shade of navy.

True to her breed standard, Ismene is a bit stocky while still remaining somewhat delicate in frame. Her face is narrow and long; she can often be seen staring up with sharp, inquisitive yellow eyes. And staring up she often is, standing at a mere 13.3hh among what often feels like a sea of giants.

+ learned + studious + generous + kind + chipper + well-spoken

- pedantic - overbearing - nervous - cowardly - self-conscious - prone to catastrophizing

Everything Izzie does is to further her knowledge of the world around her. She is overly attentive, a bit pushy, but always well-intentioned. The pegasus is wholly committed to her duty of Halcyon scribe and makes it her business to get up close and personal with everyone in the unit. Due to her exceptional, near-photographic recall, Ismene makes an excellent scribe. Truthfully, some of them tuck tail and take to the skies when they see her coming. Scew bravery if it means dealing with Ismene's peppering of questions and praise. It takes the patience of a saint to sit through one of her "interviews." While Izzie would scoff and just say she's being thorough, there is only so much one pegasus can take. She is everyone's irreverent little sister.

Although she is jovial and kind, Izzie doesn't take well to ignorance. She is the first to correct someone and the last to admit she's wrong, making her a difficult friend to have. However, if you can bring yourself to tolerate her over-familiarity and flowery words, you'll find a friend for life. Ismene is loyal to her last breath, a quality that most Halcyon find to be her single redeeming feature. If nothing else, she'd take an arrow for any of them.

Writhing beneath the surface of her intelligent yellow eyes lies a wet sand pit of anxiety. Izzie lives in constant fear that she'll be booted from the unit due to her narcolepsy, which has been kept relatively well under wraps since she was a child. She trained side by side with her father who saw her go down mid-flight and, with significant strain, managed to land her safely on the ground. He asserted that she could never tell a soul about her condition. Shortly thereafter, he died in the line of the duty. Ismene always feels as if she is standing on the precipice of disaster. Her condition to date is somewhat well-managed but she is still prone to fits of cataplexy if she experiences extremely strong emotions. This makes flying under duress an absolute nonstarter, and so she remains grounded except for the occasional drill and personal errands.

The terrain here looks so different when it's rushing towards you. How fast am I plummeting? 40, 50 miles per hour? No, infinitely faster than that. Little Ismene couldn't even close her eyes. Her body was limp, twirling through the sky like a dandelion fluff on the breeze - except her only direction was down, down, down. The wind screamed in her ears, louder than anything she'd ever heard. Noise ceased to exist. Tears streamed from her eyes as the wind cut them dry; they seemed to suspend in mid-air before she rushed past them too. There was the ground.

She couldn't feel when she slammed into her father's back, only the barest sensation of no longer falling. She did hear his gasp, though, as if she'd broken him - but it was just the exasperated, elated sigh of a father who'd thought he was poised to watch his only child die. With significant effort (she could hear his breathing, laborious, wet) he brought the pair of them to a grassy hillock. Like a true warrior, he landed without stumbling and let her body slide off of his back to the ground. Once she hit the grass, he fell to his knees and sobbed.

Izzie has this dream often. She relives her father's disappointment as if she is studying it academically. It is the least she feels that she can do. If only she could scour the corners of her shortcomings with a fine-toothed comb, perhaps she could come up with some solution. Anything to feel like she isn't a failure (a total disappointment, waste of Halcyon genetics, useless sack of skin, frail-winged little git...)

After she was saved from certain death, Ismene threw herself into her books. The filly, much younger then, confessed her secret only to Marisol. She had always had starry eyes for the older, taller mare. Marisol embodied everything that Izzie was not: strong, resolute, able and willing to fight back. The perfect Halcyon. She harbored a childish, unrequited affection until a strange twist in fate brought Marisol to reign as Sovereign. Infinitely embarrassed of both her affection and shortcomings, Izzie spends most of her time trying to avoid Marisol as much as she is magnetically drawn to her... but Halcyons are nothing if not loyal. She can only trust that her secret is safe.

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Small satchel, assortment of parchments, pens, and inks, a small piccolo.

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Ismene has narcolepsy with cataplexy. Her particular symptoms include excessive daytime sleepiness, vivid hallucinations at the onset of sleep, and potential loss of control of her limbs during moments of intense emotions.