Name: Shenrus Age:2627 28 Nameday: 3548.11.01 Sex: Male (Heavy leanings on genderfluid) Sexual Orientation: Pansexual Weyr: Other Rider Rank: Entertainer//Magician Previous Rank/Craft: High Reaches Wingrider Voice Actor: Significant Other: Testing, testing...
Physical Description: Shenrus doesn’t cut any sort of impressive silhouette by any measure. His build is rather slender with some slim muscle, enough to get him by. Working both in the sun and inheriting a blend of his mother’s lighter skin and his father’s richer tones has blessed Shenrus with a rich near bronzen skin tone. His hair is sleek and dark, unruly with a lot of body that the wind toys with so easily unless held in place. That same quality of hair sometimes trails gently down his chin, though most often than not Shenrus prefers to keep it shaved off. Eyes once so bright and warm like a pot of klah have darkened with time and stress, a closed gate that near blends with his pupils. He has a share of scars across his body; a bad scar across his shoulder from his one (and only, Faranth willing) trip to Bitra, a scar that nicks the edge of his right eyebrow and shortened it from the left, and thread scores lacing down his right arm.
With such a lithe form, it gives way to allow Shenrus to sometimes blend the lines between his masculinity and feminine qualities. Kohl and paint, make up to blur those lines and some loose clothing help hide a flatter chest and less curvy hips. Once a learned style when he was with his troop before Impression, Shenrus often has some form of this rather (in his mind) lovely dressage, most often when he craves a time he felt at home.
Art by demon_pachabel
Personality: A life on the road as an entertainer and magician has certainly left its mark on Shenrus. He comes off as easy-going, a grain of sand in the wind. It takes a lot to honestly bother and get under the skin of this man in any sense -- friendly or not. He oozes easy confidence, never afraid to fill a room with his presence and let himself known. It’s something that’s earned him both appreciative and disgusted looks, looking like he owns a place when he stays a few nights tops. Someone doesn’t roll into a town or hold and expect for strangers to look his way without commanding their attention for himself. A confident charm has helped him earn a meager living for himself and his dragon--and occasionally into someone’s bed. Visiting new places all the time, dealing with all sorts of people, has helped Shenrus to fine-tune a quick wit, especially on how to glazingly read people. A scrap in Bitra has certainly helped him to read when to get out as well.
Yet this life on the road has left Shenrus with a terrible phobia of commitments. It was only with his foster mother Ahmia’s nudging (and mild threats) that he accepted a rider’s offer to come stand for High Reaches. While it had lucked out, he and Tianath were a fated match, Shenrus scrambled to leave the Weyr as soon as they were graduated. He needed to be back where he felt he belonged. His time at the Weyr had left him detached, unwilling to make long-term connections. His and Tianath’s leaving something that time and loss have begun to weigh heavily on Shen’s mind, knowing he ostracized his dragon--despite her soft corrections that it was a decision that was met halfway on her part as well. It’s left a bitter taste of himself on his tongue, and even more reason to keep anything but acquaintances with blurry faces to vague name impressions at dragonlength.
Positive Trait List Easy-going, Confident, Quick-witted Negative Trait List Terrified of commitments, Detached, Self-depreciative
History: The earliest memories that can be recalled are sitting on a bumpy wagon, bouncing and bumping elbows and knees as he struggles to stay still and listen to his foster mother tell fantastic stories. Ahmia was a good woman who took him in just after being weaned, bright eyed and innocent. His father had died in a nasty accident with another cart before he was even born, and his mother had died of illness. But Shenrus only knows his parents as the dancer with the tambourine and the wandering gitar player who fell in love in a wandering entertainment group. Stories that embellished their love story in the very troop they were in. Childhood went like a flash, growing up in a big travelling camp. He learned, very quickly, he had quite talented hands. First at making things disappear in his pockets--but soon finding that he had the dexterity to make them reappear just as seamlessly. With practice and being raised by a talented group, they fostered his talents and built him up with the bravado to back it up. It helped with extra marks, and made living that much more comfortable. A fellow troop member, a teen the same age as him who was adept at rather contortion positions, helped him to learn the way of disguise and dressage. It was something that would be ingrained in Shenrus even into his adulthood.
Just before his sixteenth turnday, at a performance at Crom Hold, his performance caught the eye of the stationed watch rider. It was through persuasion by Ahmia to go, to leave all that he had known and his family that convinced him to stand for search as nothing more than the washed clean face; no wispy clothes and smoky cosmetics to hide behind, just himself on the sands and utterly out of his element. Yet, if he aged out, he could go home. A thought that terrified him as much as excited. Halfway into his 18th turn, Shenrus would Impress-- to the tiniest, delicate white he had ever seen. Yet she held her head up despite her unusual appearance with the delicate grace in her stride that a newly hatched dragon couldn’t quite keep up. Her name was Tianath, and a piece of Shenrus was finally settled. For his time in High Reaches, Shenrus would go by the name Sh’rus--something that would be later scrapped at his parting with his life at the Weyr. The vague idea that maybe a Weyr life could be okay for them. Yet, it wasn’t quite what he had hoped--once more. Keeping up with schedules and routines and work wasn’t something he had issues with, for he had his own variation of it with his troop. But it wasn’t the same, and made the ache for home even stronger. When they were graduated, Shenrus would steal them away. A decision that Tianath had agreed to, for she could feel how restless her rider was--aching for a home she could see in his memories and stories alike.
It took them the better part of nine months to finally track down his troop--or what was left of it. Almost three turns had left them to slowly scatter, guilt to add up in Shen’s gut as his brain equated it to his leaving--and not the infighting that he hadn’t been privy to. He had been nestled in Bitra for the second day, dressed to the nines and had been entertaining a small crowd. However, someone had been less than amused when deft hands had plucked a pin from a shirt molded after a firelizard. Accused of theft by someone not quite getting the act, they had attacked him. His face had taken a hit that had healed easy enough, but Shen’s back had collided into the corner of a reinforced cart--the metal doing a good bit of damage to his shoulder. Tianath had cried out, but who should get in the way but Ahmia. The hardened older woman had dispelled the tension with the help of two faces he had recognized--all that was left of their troop. But Shenrus couldn’t help but cry once he was tucked into a familiar, aged covered wagon. Though they were a much smaller group, they tucked together and Shenrus felt happy once more.
It stayed like that, until the fateful day that High Reaches’ seemingly conspiracy theory rang true. The group was halfway to the journey towards Keroon from Benden Hold when thread fell upon them. Fast and hard, its a memory that's fuzzy and almost lost to Shenrus. There were screams, the cart near disintegrating before his eyes. His troop, how little it had grown in the turns, scattered across the open field. A clump had fallen on Ahmia, and Shenrus fell back on old training that his weyrlinghood had instilled and battled against his instinct to save his foster mother. From his saddle, he’d reached and grabbed her around the chest. His own screams as thread bit and sank into his arm until the cold of between rapidly cooled the burn as they found themselves just barely above the ground at Benden Hold. The landing was anything but graceful, scrambling to be brought into the Weyr and to safety. Ahmia hadn’t made it, likely hadn’t lived to feel the cool of between. His arm was treated, white-silver scars lacing up his right arm. Tianath had survived the scrap for the most part, minor damage on her shoulder and right foreleg from their rescue attempt. Once they were able, Ahmia had been taken back between to finally rest. It had taken days to find what was left of the cart--with no signs of any other survivors--or bodies, for that matter. Maybe they had survived.
With no attachments, Shenrus’ walls climbed higher as thread returned. He wavers on the edge of staying in his comfortable life--or returning to his duty as a dragonrider and back to Weyrlife.
Other: Shenrus knows how to roll marks across his knuckles. It's a little sleight of hand that he knows that really impresses little children, but it’s also a nervous habit to fidget with something.
Physical Description: Tianath is nothing but a lady, thank you. She runs on the smaller side of the average white, only at fourteen feet. Tianath’s body is sleek and slim, proportionate for her size. Yet she can only hold two passengers at most--and not for too many trips before she must rest. Her gait is with purpose and delicate, more befitting a Lady Holder than a dragon--just don’t tell her that. Her hide is a bright white, like the purest cloud against a sunny day. A deeper grey seeps into her wing sails and ridges. Over the expanse of her chest, down her shoulders and forelegs, and trailing off down her back is gentle, acey markings that dip and curl with the same gentleness as her personality. Silvery scars do interrupt her patterns against her right shoulder and foreleg, in a vain attempt to save her rider’s foster mother from the surprise grip of thread.
Personality: Everything about Tianath is nothing but lady-like, even down to her personality. She speaks in a soft tone, gentle and delicate. The gentle wisps of the breeze through blooming flowers after the snow has thawed, soft and sweet. Soft and gentle, she never raises her voice or gets angry, but her tone can reach gut-wrenching levels of disappointment if ever the need truly arise.
She is cordially friendly with those she meets--especially dragons that she meets after leaving High Reaches. Though, perhaps just a touch more excited. She would never admit it out loud especially with Shenrus’ penchant to add onto his growing list of guilt, but she does miss the company of her kin. Not so much a Weyr setting, as she had been just as eager to escape the Weyr as well. The wide open skies to spread her wings, free to go and do as they please--it's a life she loves. But doesn’t quite stop the nibbling loneliness, especially when she wishes to have someone to curl up with again. Yet there’s a chilled near aloof air when she speaks. A softness which lends to walls built up over time in a way that only isolation and introversion can build. Where she talks and can be friendly, but takes or leaves most interactions at where they end. Most faces they see are lost and never seen again--why build up memory when its to be lost?
She’s quite the wordsmith, talking at length and liking a meeting of wits. While Shenrus prefers to show off in physicality, she shows off in conversation. Wistful and wondering, conversations might end up philosophical if they go on long enough--things that wouldn’t ordinarily cross other dragon’s minds, but does with hers.
Firelizards
Posted: Thu Sep 20, 2018 11:34 am
Name: Ezyzu Age:2526 27 Nameday: 3549.02.04 Sex: Female Sexual Orientation: Demisexual Weyr: Western Weyr Rider Rank: Wingrider Previous Rank/Craft: N/a Voice Actor:[x] - Tauriel - The Hobbit: Desolation of Smaug Significant Other: X'ael, of Blue Cucuaranath (Hattaki)
Physical Description: At first glance, Ezyzu strikes a bit of a figure. She’s very tall for a lady, slim and not very curvy like her mother was. Happiness seems to seep out of her with every motion, waking with a smile on her face and an energy to take on the day. Bright blue-green eyes, warm as the ocean on a cloudless day in summer and gentle on anyone she may come across. Long, russet hair reaches down to her hips; it curls loosely, falling in uneven lengths and normally pulled into a looping ponytail to keep it away and off her neck. Ezy’s skin is a deep midnight umber--cool like the polar opposite of her personality. Bright near-white spots race from her fingertips up to her shoulders and drift down her back like the stars in the sky. A condition that started when she was a young girl--and after so much time spent under healer’s scrutiny, was declared that they were no hinderance or sign of illness and was allowed to stand for candidacy with her fellow creche kids. Other scars litter her hands and legs, from growing up in a Weyr learning new skills and helping carry her own weight. There’s a scar on her left leg from getting tripped up on her first Hatching and being stepped on by a wandering hatching--nothing that left damage but a green mistake that she always made sure to give baby dragons their wide berth when on the sands.
Art by demon_pachabel
Personality: At times, Ezyzu’s personality either tends to be soft and warm like a fireplace late into the night -- or the powerful explosion of a dragon’s searing flame.
Ezy tends to be very present minded, with only looking a few steps into the future. She is warm and caring, happy to sit with someone if they’re having a bad day and need a solid presence. Often times it comes down to a motherly streak in her, wanting to make sure those in her presence are happy and smiling. Feeling down? Why not come get a cup of klah and sit for a while, or watch the dragons fly on their break. She exudes warm reassurance and support, unwilling to leave someone of they’re upset even if they only respond in unkindness. It’s hard to truly get under her skin when she just has great love for her fellow folk in the Weyr.
Yet, this same behavior isn’t always what people want--or need. Her warmth can feel a bit overbearing when she doesn’t take being told off for an answer--too stubborn in her will to help. The motherly drive coming off as near overbearing when unwanted. Her thick skin to take insult to face, even personal remarks, is too saintly that she seems to rise above it, and by pure luck she hasn’t been in a fight with the wrong hot-headed person.
Positive Trait List Supportive, Motherly, Cheerful, Thick-skinned Negative Trait List Stubborn, Overbearing, Saintly
History: Born in the cusp of winter/spring to a greenrider as a product of flight, Ezyzu was as happy as she was a baby as she is growing into herself as an adult. Growing up in the bowels of Western Weyr, she grew up confident and happy--wanting other people to share in her happiness. Her mother rubbed off on her as a great inspiration to be kind to others, and to spread that love and light on.
When Ezy was just about 10, her dark skin started to pop into bright white spots--something that alarmed the child and her carers. There was a lot of time spent in the infirmary, making sure she hadn’t come down with some pox or illness--and doubly to be sure it couldn’t be spread. Yet all tests were shown that there was no illness, nothing more than a skin pigmentation problem. Nothing contagious, nothing to be alarmed over -- only to occasionally keep an eye on as they sometimes spread or spots disappeared. But Ezyzu was cleared to be in good health, and more importantly able to stand for the chance to Impress once she came of age.
Her first hatching happened when she was well into her fourteenth year-- a large clutch that intimidated her. Yet she squared her shoulders and put on a brave face. Yet Ezyzu hadn’t been completely aware of her surroundings. She tripped over her own feet trying to get out of the way of a blue, getting stepped on in the process and scarring her left leg up. Accidentally, yet she is happy for the reminder to always stay aware.
As the turns go on and on, and Ezyzu gets closer to aging out of candidacy with each passing turn, she is happy finding her place in case she isn’t chosen. Her time is spent learning more about how the kitchens work, learning to make meals with the staff to feed the populace.
Other: Should Ezyzu actually age out, she hopes to one day work up to possibly be considered for Assistant Headmaster. She also has a case of what would be vitiligo/skin pigmentation that is harmless.
Name: Khamaith Age: 2 Hatchday: 3574.04.07 - Gold Susurinth x Bronze Cordrath Color: Gold Size: 44’ Sexuality: <3 Mate: White Baihath, of Alya (Tsunake) Voice Actor:[x] - Kes, Star Trek: Voyager
Physical Attributes: Khamaith is about average for a gold dragon, neither small and delicate, nor large and bulking. She is a bit of a bigger gold when it comes to her overall girth, and will likely always hold onto a bit more weight than some queens. She doesn't mind at all -- and she will remain healthy provided her rider keeps here from gorging or over eating. Her proportions are near perfect, and she moves with a lightness that might surprise some given her size.
Personality: The first thing one will notice about Khamaith just how incredibly sleepy she is! Yes, Khamaith loves to sleep. Naps are something this gold will happily seek out, so much so it's possible the healers will worry something is wrong with the queen! She's happiest curled up with friends and family, and will never turn down an offer to get cozy and simply sleep. Sleeping is probably her favorite activity, and it's not something Khamaith will ever truly outgrow.
Thankfully, for the Weyr, this queen is not a grumpy napper. Even when she doesn't get as much sleep as she prefers, Khamaith tends to be of a calm temperament; though her rider might get riled or angry, this queen rarely seems to have fits. In fact, as she grows, she will become an asset to her Weyr! While all queens can have a calming influence on other dragons, particularly when they're distressed, Khamaith will often be particularly good at it. Perhaps its the sound of her voice, or the sincerity behind her desire to care for those in need that often leads to the most cantankerous of spirits to relax.
Khamaith is a lover, not a fighter. Even when she is old enough to fly, aggression and anger will not drive her; love and endless amounts of caring will. This queen has yet to meet a dragon she doesn't like, or a color she spurns. She loves all within her Weyr, and will do whatever she can to make sure they know she cares. Helpful, perhaps to an annoying degree, Khamaith just wants them to know that she's there for them, and perhaps, be loved endlessly in return.
Though she is a sweet gold, she can be easily flattered, and in turn, perhaps more manipulated. She will be easily pleased by any dragon or rider that butters her up. Her caring nature, and desire to be helpful, can cause trouble among any dragons or riders that wish to use her. Her rider will need to keep an eye out on Khamaith to make sure she's not getting in with the wrong sort of crowd. Thankfully, though, Khamaith is sweet but not stupid; and as she grows, she will learn how to hold her own against those that wish to use her.
Khamaith is also a less active queen than some. Due to her love of napping, she'll have a tendency to prefer more sedentary activities. This means her rider is going to have to really try to encourage her to stay active, and that will get harder and harder as the gold gets bigger. Talking, cuddling, lounging, and sunning will always be high on Khamaith's list of favorite things.
Additional Notes: Khamaith will enjoy rising, but will tend toward shorter flights. Not because she's not interested in the fine gentlemen suitors, but because, quite frankly, she would much rather be curled up and cuddled than wasting precious energy in the air. Thankfully, she knows to fly high up, and quick, so the clutch sizes should not suffer.
During Threadfall, her stamina is on point, but her rider will need to keep Khamaith from cutting corners out of sheer laziness. She will have a tendency to pop between closer to the ground than she should, if her rider allows, or hurrying through work so she can go back and sun.
When she does clutch, she will be a happy mother. Clutching suits her well.
Origin of Name: Khamaith derives her name from one of the Greek word "khamaimelon", which means "earth apple". It's was given the name due to its sweet, apple scented leaves.
Inspiration: Khamaith is based on chamomile herbal tea! Unlike green or black tea, chamomile tea actually comes, not from a tree but from a daisy-like plant. Plants in this family produce tea that is most commonly known for its relaxing, sleep-inducing properties. A flavonoid, chrysin, found in the plant is partially responsible for its reputation as a sleep aid.
Additionally, this is an incredibly popular tea found all over the world, and has been used for medicinal purposes for thousands of years. Studies have found that German and Roman varieties of chamomile tend to have the strongest concentrations of beneficial compounds and nutrients that can be imparted to those who drink this popular tea on a regular basis.
The Light Purple Swirly Egg A large egg near the back of the clutch.
Why Me? There are many strong willed women out there, but Khamaith wanted one that exuded nothing but warmth. That is when she found Ezyzu. There is hope that the two might compliment one another, and bring balance into one anthers life. When Ezyzu is at her hottest, like a dragon's flame, there is hope that Khamaith's calm will cool her to reason. There is no need to come to blows, no need to use harsh words. Khamaith will keep her rider in check, and be a soothing influence on Ezyzu. Khamaith will be there to remind her to slow down, and to take some time to enjoy the moment. On the flips die, when this queen is cutting corners, or taking the easy way out, there is no doubt that Ezyzu will be firm and keep Khamaith on the right path, without being too severe. Such harshness is not something this queen handles well -- when someone is too firm a hand with her, this queen is known to flinch and wilt. Khamaith doesn't do well with severe individuals, and will need her riders maternal support, and warmth, to help lift her up when she is rebuked too harshly.
Together, these two make a perfect match. Ezyzu has a desire to mother the Weyr, and Khamaith thinks that's a perfectly reasonable role. Perhaps, instead of heading the kitchens, she can help keep the weyrfolk in line with the duties of a queen rider. There are certainly enough of them to go around! At the end of the day, Khamaith will keep her sociable rider near and dear to her sleepy heart. She will be her best-friend, her companion, her bondmate, and together, they will care for their people and their Weyr.
Clutch History
3576.06.28 - CLOSED Khamaith x Turoth 26 Eggs 1 gold / 3 bronzes / 4 browns / 6 blues / 10 greens / 2 whites Nashwa & gold Ilaorunth :: Western Weyr :: Meepfur R'in & bronze Demodeth :: Western Weyr :: smerdle Zh'gan & bronze Manahahtath :: Western Weyr :: Samuel Carlin NPC Bronze 1 A'mor & brown Kahveth :: Western Weyr :: faesinger Ke'res & brown Rossoth :: Western Weyr :: Sweet Symmetry NPC Brown 1 NPC Brown 2 Aerden & blue Tianxiath :: Western Weyr :: Tsunake R'xa & blue Isteth :: Western Weyr :: Mr Cheri Sivu & blue Haitanth :: Western Weyr :: Spockat Ty'nan & blue Chinanazith :: Western Weyr :: tatterpixie NPC Blue 1 NPC Blue 2 B'den & green Riojath :: Western Weyr :: magnadearel Fahn & green Alenciath :: Western Weyr :: demon_pachabel Lyfrocier & green Guarath :: Western Weyr :: Zaikt Niviora & green Sauzath :: Western Weyr :: Prism Shine R'thell & green Triesteth :: Western Weyr :: Uta V'ime & green Rhodonth :: Western Weyr :: SilverLutz V'ox & green Curacaoth :: Western Weyr :: stella cinere NPC Green 1 NPC Green 2 NPC Green 3 Etansi & white Quinineth :: Western Weyr :: Hattaki NPC White 1
Family Amiari of green Cloveth - Prism Shine - Mother, Greenrider at Western. Ylzure - Adoptable - Sire, Unaffiliated Bronzerider. She isn’t aware of his existence beyond name T'mor of brown Phylideth - demon_pachabel - Stepfather, brownrider at Western. Happily accepts him as the dad she hasn't had for many turns. Aranali of Blue Kolosoth - Hattaki - Older (half) brother at Western, 29 Ky'ess of blue Hiraeth - Prism Shine - Halfbrother by way of father, bluerider at High Reaches Weyr. Iridyn - Prism Shine - WIP twin ??? - demon_pachabel - WIP twin Nonami of green Negoncath - Prism Shine - (Half) Sibling, weyrling at Western Kalari - NPC - (Half) Sister, 3 Taimi - NPC - Newborn Brother, twin of Amiamor Amiamor - NPC - Newborn Sister, twin of Taimi
Clutch Siblings
3574.04.07 - Maiden Flight Susurinth x Cordrath 28 Eggs 1 gold / 3 bronzes / 3 browns / 9 blues / 11 greens / 1 white Ezyzu & Gold Khamaith :: Western Weyr :: Prism shine Kambri & Bronze Moseleth :: Western Weyr :: ~Kiana_Nala~ Jagmund & Bronze Lishanth :: Western Weyr :: ChaosTheories :: Deceased Z'ke & Bronze Chonth :: High Reaches Weyr :: Dizzy_Kat G'rey & Brown Karhath :: High Reaches Weyr :: Kitsune Mistress Nyoko Luiciand & Brown Aryath :: High Reaches Weyr :: faesinger Nazik & Brown Caykuth :: Western Weyr :: stella cinere Adar & Blue Yinth :: High Reaches Weyr :: Avid_RPer18 Dorame & Blue Heichath :: High Reaches Weyr :: Z o m b i k ii Dr'cul & Blue Harneth :: High Reaches Weyr :: BastetAmun Erastan & Blue Aspalath :: Western Weyr :: Sinders Path N'ran & Blue Khukith :: Western Weyr :: tatterpixie T'laq & Blue Nandith :: High Reaches Weyr :: Meepfur Trissa & Blue Broleith :: Western Weyr :: SilverLutz Viionyx & Blue Miehrath :: Western Weyr :: sariraii Z'ri & Blue Talmaith :: Western Weyr :: Mr Cheri Adairan & Green Anxith :: High Reaches Weyr :: DarkHikari Belgian & Green Molihuth :: High Reaches Weyr :: Peppermint Coffee Farensil & Green Zhenth :: High Reaches Weyr :: Ruhane Chiisai Kellyn & Green Hesith :: Western Weyr :: Malikztiah Ankhwave Liaven & Green Sarbath :: Western Weyr :: Hattaki Noska & green Feslegenth :: High Reaches Weyr :: Princess_Feylin Raelin & Green Saith :: High Reaches Weyr :: medigel :: Deceased R'ose & Green Sahrawith :: High Reaches Weyr :: houllow Rylen & Green Aghamorth :: Western Weyr :: Andranis S'eran & Green Fujiath :: Western Weyr :: Zaikt Valineaux & Green Zhuchath :: High Reaches Weyr :: Strickenized Alya & White Baihath :: Western Weyr :: Tsunake
Relationships X'ael of blue Cucuaranath - Hattaki - The love of Ezyzu's life, even if it took her a while to realize it
Firelizards
Art by demon_pachabel Art by Zaikt
Prism Shine
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Posted: Thu Sep 20, 2018 11:35 am
Name: I'lin Age:21 22 Nameday: 3553.11.20 Sex: Male Sexual Orientation: Bisexual Weyr: High Reaches Weyr Rider Rank: Wingrider Previous Rank/Craft: Miningcraft - General Miner Voice Actor:[x] - Bjorn Ironside, Vikings Significant Other: lol
Physical Description: Genetics seemed to be shining on Ielin, especially for a miner’s son. He’s tall--capping off at six foot--with the broad frame to back it up. His strength is built up from years of working in the mines with his parents, and general labor to stay toned. It doesn't help much that it’s soothing to Ielin, so he tended to fall back on labor to keep busy. The shape of his face is sharp, with higher, defined cheekbones. His complexion ranges from a gentle tan to a warm tawny color with some soft gold at his corners. Ielin’s hair is a mix of light and medium browns; rich and full, it’s soft to the touch and a nervous habit to run a hand through it to stick the lochs up some. The hair on the top of his head is kept longer, almost the width of his hand -- it trails down in length, getting shorter the further down and closer to his neck and jaw. It continues down along short sideburns and a neatly kept full beard. It gets a few shades lighter during the summer months and with more time spent in the sun -- all except for his eyebrows, oddly enough. His eyes are a darker, deeper shade of brown than even his hair gets. Dark and deep, like the mouth of an unlit cave -- there may be treasure, but there may also be something waiting to take a bite out of you.
However, there are scars of scuffles and marks made by living littered throughout his body. His shoulders are covered in pinhole scars and little slashes from Timber landing and taking off. They look almost like silvery freckles when he’s shirtless. His hands are covered in little scars, by-products of taking up whittling to keep busy.
Art by demon_pachabel
Personality: At first glance, a few things stick out about Ielin on the surface; hard-working, no-nonsense, and a touch on the sterner side of things. It’s marked Ielin as tough, and a bit unapproachable -- something he’s not entirely quick to try to change.
When he was younger, that was different. Work became less work and more soothing. It was a break from his home life, and a chance to shut off and keep his mind narrowed down to tasks. He’s a hard worker, going until his fingers ache and are stiff at the end of the night. He keeps his head down, goal-oriented mind focused until all tasks are done for the day -- and has no issues baring teeth if someone isn’t holding their end of the workload. This almost more hotheaded approach has led him to get into scrapes and scuffles, but never going beyond. It’s near instinctual at this point, to respond to harsh words and biting words with a square of his shoulders and stand his ground. Harsher authority has him biting his tongue sometimes until it bleeds, grinding teeth to do as he’s told. It’s battle-picking at his finest -- battles with his father learned to be head-on matches, while ones that can eventually lead him to gain something are often approached with quiet agreeance--but never quite acceptance. It’s just a stepping stone to reach his goals, after all.
However, there is still some small flicker of the older Ielin -- the one that was happy before his mother’s death and his father’s heavy drinking. It comes out so few times, when he got some alone time with Timber. It’s soft and nurturing, however that side so rarely is seen by anyone -- and still often gets twisted into knots. Ielin has trouble properly expressing emotion in general -- nevermind someone that’s actually gone through the trouble of actually befriending him. Then it gets.. a bit difficult. Ie tends to be on the possessive side -- with so few possessions and friendly faces, he clings to them like he can protect them from a world that ripped everything from him in the span of a turn.
Positive Trait List Hard worker, determined, attentive, calculating Negative Trait List Jaded, self-preservation, possessive
History: Ielin was born as the only son and child to a pair of miners, his mother Kissa and his father Vosin, at Crom Hold after many attempts and nil results. The married couple had begun to wonder if a child might not be in their future -- until winter when they would have their first and only child -- Ielin. His boyhood was sweet and gentle, though there would only be the three of them, it suited just fine. His days spent playing with his father’s brown firelizard Timber. Never had they felt lacking by only the three of them, and Ie grew up in a loving homestead. Ie began to work with his father in the mines, learning to find his place with the miners. With time and building muscle, he began to thoroughly enjoy following in his parents footsteps.
A little over after Ielin turned fourteen, there was a collapse in the mines -- an expedition that Kissa had been a part of. There had been no survivors, and the happy family of three was suddenly down to a disjointed two. Ielin kept his head down, throwing himself into work as they suddenly were down an income. Vosin, however, never quite recovered from his wife’s death. Drink helped make lonely nights disappear, and soon alcohol became a third hand. He stopped going to work in favor for staying pacified -- something that struck a chord with Ielin, as the teenager was working until he nearly dropped from exhaustion. It led to many fights, and the rise of a drunken Vosin’s ire. The softer side of Ielin that had been nurtured for twelve turns shut down, hiding behind walls built by life crashing around his ears.
That ire would end up being his downfall. After a bender that had Ielin’s father disappearing for days on end, he would end up disappearing. Rumors circulated as days spread on for weeks and months--until the man and his old firelizard disappeared for good. Part of Ielin, the tiny fragment of a boy who’d been happy with his parents, hoped that his father had found a caravan to hitch onto and hadn’t found a more likely end in a ditch.
The summer after he had turned 18 had provided his way out of a very lonely existence working in the mines. A green dragon had found great interest in him, happy to take him along back to High Reaches to stand for candidacy.
Other: He whittles, and while he doesn’t have good social skills--sometimes he likes to leave crude, quick carvings for people to find in their things.
Physical Description: Although small of stature, Pellereth certainly has the body of an athlete. There is no mistaking the corded muscle that holds close to a slender frame. He is sturdy, compact, and has his moments in the looks department. A bit of an average boy, but who says appearances are everything?
Personality: This courageous bronze has been a hell raiser from the start. He is extremely opinionated, and rushes to voice that opinion whenever he feels it necessary. Spoiler: he always feels that it's necessary. He doesn't appreciate those who think that bullying others can win them the day, and will be a staunch protector and defender of the small. Pellereth does not have the best opinion of the hierarchy at his home Weyr, although he certainly respects those in charge on a personal and professional level. He just doesn't feel that it's fair or right to judge someone by the color of their hide.
Certainly he has any number of siblings and cousins who are a disgrace to their color, while others of a seemingly lesser birth are a true credit to their kind. His sense of justice cannot stomach the current state of affairs, but that doesn't mean that he would just upend everything to change the world. He will, however, bend or break rules when and where it suits him. ... How typical of a bronze, really. But he feels entitled to break rules when they are so clearly wrong.
He has a powerful need to nurture and protect those who are in need of assistance, and he will provide the strong, wide wings that they require - if he cannot shelter them, then he will stand before whatever threats might lurk, ready and willing to both denounce such cowardice and to fight if necessary. For Pellereth is constantly vigilant, a trait he must have learned in the egg, while sharing the sand with so many schemers. He cannot abide cruelty, and will direct his true hatred toward those who display it.
Of course, Pellereth is far from perfect, and has several... weak spots. For one thing, he's terribly bad at being charming. He tries so hard, but he also fails equally hard. He's just simply an awkward young male, and doesn't possess the silver tongues that a number of his brothers have. It will be up to others to see past that to the true-hearted bronze who lurks beneath such a guise. For he is unwavering in his loyalty and utter devotion, when it has been secured. Unfortunately, he's also quite a jealous beast, and does not at all like to share.
Origin of Name: Pellerath is actually taken from the incantation, Expelliarmus. It is from the Latin pellere, meaning to drive. The spell can be translated as ex out pellere to drive arma weapon. In other words, to drive out a weapon, or to disarm someone.
Inspiration: Expelliarmus
Expelliarmus, the incantation for the disarming charm, is recognizable first by its red light. The strength of the spell can be gleaned by the power of the light expelled from the wand. Some believe that this charm was created by Merlin himself, though that is only one going theory. Certainly, it has been known to be used throughout Wizarding history, and is particularly effective during wizard duels. One famous practitioner of the disarming charm is Harry Potter, for whom the charm became his signature spell. The strength of his disarming charm was such that through the bond Priori Incantatem between his wand and Lord Voldemort's he was able to reflect the killing curse.
Additional Notes: Pellereth will never like or appreciate Caderath. He despises what the dragon stands for, and will always be his deadly enemy. Apart from that, while he distrusts some of his siblings and cousins, he does not have strong feelings one way or the other. Except, of course, for the beautiful green ladies! The golden Queens might have his eye from time to time, and he has been known to take note of a choice fellow or two. Really, he's just... awkward where love is concerned, and doesn't even know where to start. Plenty of room for discovery in the future!
Egg: A large striped tan egg who both shelters and leans against several others. This egg is not here to play around, thank you.
Why Me? Ielin is the hero that Pellereth needs, although Pellereth is, in his own view, less than what his rider deserves. He knew in his hearts that Ielin was and would be his own, for all that several of his clutchmates had caught the other's eye. In the end, they are both noble in their rough hewn way, filling in all of the empty places inside where there was no one before to be their perfect partner. Ielin need never again fear that there is no one who might understand him, or be there for him. Pellereth will be his truest and best friend, and cannot wait to discover what adventures they might embark on.
Family Kissa - Mother (Deceased) Vosin - Father (Deceased)
Relationships
Firelizards
Posted: Thu Sep 20, 2018 11:37 am
Name: Sam’kel Age:2223 24 Nameday: 3551.12.27 Sex: Male Sexual Orientation: Bisexual (Leans heavily towards men) Weyr: High Reaches Weyr Craft: Harper (Gitar) Rank: Wingrider in Trespassers Wing Voice Actor:[x] - Male 1 Boss, Saints Row 3 Significant Other: K'lar of blue Mnereth (Tsunake)
Physical Description: Overall, Sam’kel is a rather.. plain man. He stands just about five and a half feet tall, a gentle tan on his skin from living a more outdoor lifestyle as a dragonrider. But years spent living in Harperhall have prevented his skin from tanning more than a few subtle shades -- or burn so easily still. A crop of short hair sits on his head, kept very short on the sides while the top is near the width of his hand--spiked forward with natural cowlicks in varying shades of brown and blonde. There’s a patch on the right side of his head where the hair doesn’t grow right from one scar almost a good six inches from the top of his ear and coasting back to his nape. Sam’kel tries to keep his hair grown out enough to cover it, but in some lights or angles it is noticeable. The scar continues, skips and stutters across his eyebrow and up his forehead while similar-looking scars rain down his neck and barely into his chest. His right eyebrow is broken, the hair unable to grow back. Beneath are a set of rather sad, muddy hazel eyes. They’re too expressive, especially when his voice fails him. His fingers are calloused from turns worth of dedicated guitar-playing.
Personality: At his core, Sam’kel is kind. He’s a gentle soul who wants to do good onto others. Generous to a fault, he’d gladly give his last meal or the shirt off his back if someone needed it--and do so with the same soft, fringe sad smile again and again. He’s dependable, a creature of habit that wants to appease people around him. If you need something done? Just have to ask. Need help? He’s got your back. It unfortunately leads to Sam’kel getting taken advantage of quite a bit, especially so during candidacy and weyrlinghood. Yet Sam’kel is selfless to a fault, prefering to give and help in favor of helping himself.
Yet his selfless nature isn’t without fault. Sam’kel has quite a self-depreciative streak that runs through him. His looks aren’t terrible, but he considers himself quite forgettable. While he loves Kinitarth very much, he knows he’s of little use besides wing padding. He isn’t going to be saving Pern single-handedly or anything. His giving nature is a by-product of this harsh streak, believing he can help others even if it means never quite doing anything to serve himself.
A huge influence in Sam’kel is how utterly romantic he is. A hopeless romantic at heart, he believes the best in everyone around him (but not himself). His heart turns to romantic ideals, remembering great love stories to heart to placate himself and his own heartache. He gives good advice, tuned into a rather emotional side of himself. Yet stalls when it comes to his own feelings.. Or feelings that may be turned on him.
Positive Trait List Romantic, Dependable, Generous, Kind Negative Trait List Pragmatic, Selfless, Self-Depreciative
History: Sam’kel, born Samorakel, grew up raised in Harper Hall as a dumped orphan. If there were any records of where Sam had come from, or who his parents or even family might be, he was never informed of anything. This gap of knowledge, with the combined knowing he was dumped with nothing to go on, would shape Samorakel into the fragile, selfless mess into adulthood. Knowing that his family cared so little about him that no shred was left to go off to find them? Hurt a growing child as he learned how to be a person.
Samorakel was shoehorned into remedial classes to see if he had any sort of penchant of talent for anything -- and to everyone’s surprise, he took to the gitar at an early age. While he had to grow into his hands to properly play it, Samorakel adjusted and learned to improve--playing from his lap until he grew bigger.
When he was in his early tweens, Samorakel had an accident. Hurrying on his way through the Hall with gitar in hand, Sam had slipped down a flight of stairs. While no bones had been broken in the nasty tumble down the stairs, his instrument had shattered. The sharp pieces, one in hand, carved up his face, down his neck and just barely on his chest. It wasn’t deep enough to be life threatening, yet deep enough to scar and leave him told avoid using his voice for a while. He was given another guitar, this one more worn and with a deeper sound. It helped still his twitchy fingers, to just play when he couldn’t do much else. Oftentimes Sam would just sit and play, losing himself to the melody and finding he somehow gained a crowd to just listen.
It was through these healing sessions that Sam would meet Farimell. Newly brought in and a bit younger than Sam, it was quite easy to get along with the rather quiet kid. Oftentimes he found himself playing just because they were near, and as the turns went on they ended up becoming the inspiration for a few melodies. He learned to adapt to Farimell’s tastes, finding some of his favorite moments of wasted time were just leaning against each other while his fingers idly plucked. While he found Farimell had a stutter, Samorakel learned that his music oftentimes helped soften its effect, occasionally quieting it. It made his heart leap that he could help his friend, and helped that tiny ember slowly grow from gentle warmth to affection.
It wouldn’t be until after Samorakel was searched that he would realize he was in love with Farimell. Distance had certainly helped the heart grow fonder, when Sam had realized that his life had revolved so heavily around his friend. The hatching had been imminent, and Sam had planned to leave after the hatching. Fate, however, had different plans when a sweet little blue had looked at him with complete adoration, and Samorakel had become Sam’kel.
Weyrlinghood had been hard, with his attention split. He was caught between his two loves, but had buckled in with responsibility. It didn’t quite stop Sam from writing Farimell letters, so desperate to keep a line of contact. Yet as Kinitarth grew and graduated, with the firm plan to ask his friend to join him in High Reaches, he got a letter about how Farimell had been searched… to Western Weyr. While he was happy for his friend, his stomach felt like a pit. Yet he went to see the hatching, delighted to witness as his friend was chosen and committed the name F’ell to memory. But it was a bittersweet happiness; another step had been cemented in fate making the wedge between them further. His flame still burns strong, even in the face of losing touch with F’ell and threadfall returning to rain down hell upon them all.
Other: Sam’kel loves to just sit and strum his guitar. The addition of F'ell was done with the overly wonderful Houllow's permission <3
Name: Kinitarth Age:34 5 Hatchday: 3571.06.01 Color: Blue Size: 23’ Sexuality: Bisexual, Homoromantic Voice Actor:[x] - Dorian Pavus, Dragon Age Inquisition Significant Other: Brown Neirinth, of F'nar (Hattaki)
Physical Description: Kinitarth is very fragile for a blue. He runs on the tail end of the average blue size, and could even be called dainty. He cuts a rather slim profile, down to delicate wings and legs, but his wings are a rather impressive size and sharp on the ends. It makes for easy gliding, but the shape often leads to him being able to cut sharper corners (especially when he isn’t quite paying attention to them). Kinitarth’s hide had been rather lucky, staying scarless up until this point. But with threadfall only beginning, it likely won't stay like that for long.
Personality: Kinitarth is a rather mild blue. He accepts his place in life, filling wing strength and spending his time in other mild pursuits. Sketching, especially in a sand table Sam’kel made for their weyr, often keeps Kini occupied on off hours. Sometimes it’s watching the clouds go by, and openly calling out the shapes he sees. An artistic soul that was brought to another, Kinitarth will sometimes just lay and listen, and let color bloom in his mind as the melody plays. Often he tries to not broadcast his color shows, yet sometimes they slip by to neighboring dragons.
He has no illusions of grandeur, knowing to keep his place in the pecking order. Yet he’s a rather amicable blue, who tries for decent conversation to make long days go by quicker. He has a deep love of all dragons, and admires all colors quite openly. Kinitarth is a quick fighter, and despite his small size is a good asset to his fighting wing. His fighting spirit is strong, determined to keep his home (and his besotted rider) safe. Having hatched as a rather independent artist, Sam’kel’s pining has had little to no effect on the blue. He’s rather happy to keep his rider safe from threadfall, and watch as the ‘love story’ plays out.
Physical Description: Keris, while she is not the largest of figures, makes certain she stands out--when need be. She is a short thing, barely clearing 5’. Her figure is slim but curvy, with thicker hips that give her a sashay to her walk. While she doesn’t look quite imposing, she’s got rather wiry muscle, and she delights in showing when someone asks for a deep tissue massage just how strong she is. Her hair is a lovely blue-black, falling in waves down past her shoulders. Towards the ends, about the length of her hand, is bleached, where she has fun putting in extravagant colors. These colors are also in a chunk of bleached color that framed the right side of her face. She is rather pale, but that lends itself to a rather indoors type of lifestyle. While she got a lot of features of her father, her eyes she got from her mother -- a bright fiery amber that never quite show her emotions, when when she puts some of her hand down. Her skin is also very soft, using various massage oils in her profession as well as various lotions to keep her skin supple (especially as she prepares to combat stretch marks).
Personality: Turns of navigating through social circles and a controlling father has helped Keris develop into a chessplayer of a person. She is poised, holding back even when she wants to crack and shatter. It wouldn’t do to let the world see her hand, and even when she’s losing her temper and wants to throw a metaphorical tea cup, she’ll take a sip and keep conventional talk going. Keris takes precautions before making a move, analyzing the pieces in front of her and how things might possibly go--and nudge them in a way that she might benefit. A touch manipulative, but her reasoning is that if someone allows themself to be steered in a different way, well.. The weak willed are none the more observant. Extroverted to a fault, never hesitating to put herself in a conversation if she might benefit from it.
Art by demon_pachabel
Her life experiences have left a mar on her mentally. A controlling ‘father’ who sold her to the highest bidder and a (now) ex-fiance who had rolled with her looks and nothing of her personality, none of her goals have left her with a distaste of men--near to the point of minor misandry. Not to the point of pure hatred--but certainly a distrust of men. She carries a quiet anger for those who would use her, yet hidden behind a well-practiced smile. But this anger only carries to humans, as her time among dragons (and a friendly, sweet brown in particular) have left her with a warmer opinion of dragons than she once held after turns of having never been searched weigh her down.
Yet there is a side to her that few rarely see, for Keris is always on guard. She has started to soften slightly since arriving at High Reaches, a gentleness that she thought had shriveled up and died turns ago. She finds herself offering rub downs for free, a tender hand on her stomach as it starts to swell. Perhaps it is due to hormones, perhaps not. It’s something that shifts her slightly to the side, unsure of herself a tad for once.
Positive Trait List Calculating, Extroverted, Goal-Setter, Poised Negative Trait List Waningly Misandric, Manipulative, Cynical
History: Keris comes from a rather complicated home. She is the daughter and sole child of a lovely masseuse mother and a smithee man--or so the man believes. Despite many wives and attempts, he has never fathered another child before or after Keris--because she is not his. Her mother wrote to a courtesan--a handsome man with a darling dragon, her mother used to sigh--and had some quiet help giving her husband the child he desired. He not-so-secretly blamed her for the drought, moving on to other women with the same results. Keris grew up with complicated feelings--knowing she was different blood from this man who called himself her father, but never acted the part. It had been rather okay in her little eyes, as it meant she could spend more time with her mother. She would begin to learn her mother’s craft directly from her, how to give the right pressure, look for the pressure points to not hurt someone, to soothe and gentle in ways words could not.
It would be into her twelfth turn that her mother would turn ill--and suddenly Keris’ world was shrinking with it. Before passing, Keris learned of her actual parentage--a bluerider courtesan by the name of E’ros of Amoranth--to seek him when (and only when) she was safe. So this information is nestled, safe, in her heart. A man she’s never met that was her real father, as she began the long dancing game of chess without her mother--and living with the father who viewed her as his only heir and mealticket.
As Keris’ craft began to expand, learning from other journeyman masseuses to keep honing her skills, she began to have more important clientele--ones her father was quick to take advantage of. Parties, schmoozing important people to get his foot in the door elsewhere--the image Keris began to mirror if to make her state of life better and less about social climbing. Her heart began to close off as she reached fourteen and climbed higher--and with every dragon that passed, passed her by as well. Unsearched, unnecessary-- something her father had been always unashamed about bringing up whenever wingsails left the hold, or they left as invited guests to a hatching. It hardened her heart, with the growing distaste to hatred of her father.
When she turned twenty, he came to her not with a proposition but a promise--by her twenty-fifth turn, she would be wed. It was unspoken about the monetary gain he would earn from it, as he desired nothing else. No other children, he put all his effort into her to fetch highest price at market--and Keris began to wrack her brain for some possible way to escape her situation. While she could try to contact someone she had never met, she had been determined to abide her promise to her mother. So she sank her attention into charming handsome riders, men who would fall for a massage and a happier end--until she met Ulix. It couldn’t have been more perfect timing, as her twenty-fifth turn had come, and she had been bearing down on a wedding to a man who viewed her as a pretty little doll. The rider was everything she had been waiting for. While he was her passage to a new life, at High Reaches--he helped her with one better. While Keris had never considered herself the mothering type, she found herself with child just before her departure--a metaphorical spit in the face of an old life and a marriage she did not want, especially to a father who could not father children.
Other: -She is a confirmed child of E’ros -Has a lovely gold flitter named Carica that acts as much of a smooze as her (And a lovely gift from Tsu <3)
Name: Kiadrath Age: Hatchling Hatchday: 3576.05.02 - Esurienth x Phylideth Color: Green Size: 28' Sexuality: ??? Voice Actor: Significant Other:
Physical Description: A colossal dragon, Kiadrath is a perfectly imperfect balance of her parents. Her wing span is massive and wide, enormous fans to help carry her bulky, heavy set frame. A more barrel carriage gives her bulk to her silhouette, easily lifted by well-toned wings. Thick legs help her carry stride well, as a shortened tail and thinner neck make her look elegant from afar -- only to see the solid stability up close. Her headknobs are longer than average, tapering to a sleek point; while Kiadrath's muzzle is shorter and blunt and can give her a more gruff appearance.
Personality: A quiet sort of dragon, Kiadrath is the sort to keep to her own sort of company and does her best to not wear her hearts on her shoulders. She has feelings, of course -- but it's easier to push aside her own to help those who need help; be it her rider, dragons, or any others. However, not to say that she welcomes being a doormat. Cross her, Kiadrath still grows angry. She'll forgive, no doubt. The Weyr doesn't run smoothly if there are grudges in the wings, after all. But hardly will she forget.
While Kiadrath puts actions to affect rather than pretty words or flowery phrases, she's extremely susceptible to those in distress or prone to high emotions -- leaving her quite open to being twisted about and used. Flights will be a concerted trial and error to not get whipped around by a partner's flowery phrases and wilting promises come morning. No, what stands firmest in her mind is others who show their mettle, not tell and brag about it like dragging around a dead carcass.
She has a mildly covetous eye -- she sees things she like: pretty dragons, nice sunning spots, a spot up the chain of leadership in a wing, a particularly appealing meal on legs; yet Kiadrath is not the sort to bully her way into obtaining. Rather, she would rather use her wits to try and achieve her desires through meaningful ways. Maneuver and show her prowess to a potential partner in a flight, appeal to a dragon eyeing her meal of choice with an offer to catch a similar one for them in exchange, appeal to share a ledge if they might both fit. Kiadrath certainly doesn't mind playing the long game for what she may desire, for the wait can be worth it in the end.
Additional Notes: -Kiadrath's flame is sharp and quick. Quick bursts of flame are this dragon's specialty! While maintaining a longer stream will have been her bane all during flaming lessons. -Flights are what Kiadrath lives for. Though poised on the ground, she gives 110% once up in the air. Gold or Green, they will eagerly chase with gusto and hearts racing for competition -- though finding some company in the event she loses isn't out of the question. She will have a bit of a notion as a tail chaser as she seems to enjoy testing and trying; however, once she's found herself a mate, there could be no more of a loyal dragon than in Kiadrath. It will be the ladies that always catch her attention first, but there is always a chance that a male might catch a roving attention. -There's a love in Kiadrath for water, however it's the stillness of small lakes that draw her in. The Weyrlake is nice, but on an off day, her hearts are alight at finding some quiet, untouched body of water to soak in the atmosphere.
Why Me: Keris, darling, from the moment you walked in, Kiadrath knew you were hers -- she only had to reach you all the way up in the stands. From the moment your eyes met, no longer will the world feel quite so scary, no longer will you feel so alone. That directionless mire suddenly has a sharp compass in the form of Kiadrath, who will keep you on the straight and true. Yet there is love -- a love so deep that it drowns out the heartache of a heavy life. It fills in the cracks and voids that have worn down your heart with the strongest bond known to Pern. Such terrible past transgressions seem much farther away -- never forgotten, darling, but they no longer ache like such thorny vices. An approach to men won't be quite so abrasive, for they are units in the grand scheme of the Weyr. They must all work together, and an ease will come to Keris when dealing with men. They are here, now; Western Weyr is their home now, and there is a future of vast potential for both of them.
Keris and Kiadrath are two peas in a pod; for they are both the quiet watchers who wait for their opportunity to arise. A step forward is taken by both rider and dragon, for they are the strength of one another. Kiadrath's love is all-encompassing, yet never does Keris need to fret that covetous attitude at keeping her away from everything -- She is hers, just as she is Hers, and nothing could ever come between that.
Family ♦ E'ros of blue Amoranth (Uta) - Blood Father ♦ Keryiax (NPC) - Son
Relationships
Firelizards
Posted: Thu Sep 20, 2018 11:41 am
Name: K’vos Age:262728 29 Nameday: 3547.07.24 Sex: Female Sexual Orientation: Ladies Weyr: High Reaches Weyr Craft: Weavercraft - Dressmaker Apprentice (with side dabbling in dye) Rank: Wingrider in Trespassers Wing Voice Actor:[x] - Chloe, Detroit Become Human Song:[x] - Shatter Me, Lindsey Stirling, Lzzy Hale Significant Other: Cheza of green Zurath (Deceased) (NPC)
Physical Description: From birth, K’vos has never cut an impressive figure -- or a standard figure, at that. Genetics certainly weren’t kind to the young dressmaker. She’s a bit short and thin, having more athletic muscle build up over time. K’vos’ build is rather flat, with a smaller chest and thin hips. Her skin is a pale, sensitive color thanks in part to her albinism. Yet she’s learned to cover with with looser, long sleeves and stronger sun creams to prevent getting too harsh of a sunburn. Her hair is a pale white, spanning from the short pixie cut she wears up to her eyebrows and eyelashes. Yet she’s learned to dye her hair to protect her sensitive scalp, from using natural dyes such as klah to other fanciful colors that look more off a dragon’s hide or off their eyes than any natural-growing hair. Her eyes are a very pale blue, sensitive to bright sunlight. Yet she’s normally seen with a pair of specially-crafted glasses or goggles to help shield them from the sunlight.
Personality: From a young age, K’vos was instilled a very business-like demeanor. She is a hard worker, detail-oriented to a fault. Yet she takes pride in keeping herself open and approachable, if someone needed a dress or just someone to talk to. Every little nuance needs filled and completed if it’s specified, no matter the size of the request. It’s left her a bit of a perfectionist complex that was only further established by her rather weaker body -- needing something to be perfect, where she is not. Whether it's in her craft, dragon riding, or personal matters, she wants to fill things out to a T so she knows they are cared for as fully expected. But this drive for everything to be perfect has left K’vos with a biting sense of anxiety and worry. What if this wont be perfect, and what if they don’t like it. What if it’s not good enough… What if she isn’t good enough.
Her sense of anxiety has a tendency for K’vos to shy away from the limelight. If she can’t be sure she’s going to be flawless, why would she take that light? She would much rather watch someone from her place on the sideline shine, much like she had with her bright Weyrmate. This doesn’t mean she is hands-off, oh no. Quite opposite, K’vos is a rather loving woman. Always having dreams of having a large family and mothering a large flock, the shock of not being able to give birth had been a hard one on her. Another flaw to add to her growing list. Yet, Cheza gave her the wonder that is Chezuri, and perhaps somewhere down the road may foster.
Positive Trait List: Detail-oriented, Perfectionist, Personable, Motherly Negative Trait List: Wallflower, Anxious, Hard on herself
History: Kurivos was born to a pair of very loving parents in Weavercrafthall. She was the fourth child, with a sister and two brothers before her, and eventually a brother after her. She was the frailest of the five siblings, with her mother having a very difficult pregnancy and getting sick constantly the entire time. She was a pale, fragile little thing in her rich, healthy family. Kurivos’ hair was pale amongst darker shades, eyes a sensitive blue. Her parents found out her skin burned very easily, and had to learn very quickly just how glass-like their second daughter was. A lot of skin cream and clothing needed to keep the harmful sun away from her easily-burnt form. The first few years were spent with half-caught breaths as if she might shatter at the slightest notion, and worry that they’d lose this precious daughter after such trials and tribulations.
Yet, Kurivos defied everyone’s expectations. While she was still sensitive, she began to grow into a healthier immune system. WHile her skin would always be sensitive, she began to wear more protective suncream, baggy long clothes, wide brimmed hats to make up for this. Her father had commissioned her uncle in glasscraft for protective eyewear, ranging from a pair of goggles to tinted eyewear. She began to take interest in her mother’s craft in dressmaking, learning under her tutelage to begin making dresses. It was indoors, making and designing such lovely pieces--though she began at only learning to hem and fix. Her father was into dyecraft, and imparted some of his knowledge onto her as well. While she leaned more to dressmaking, she would take what she learned from him onward. The biggest piece was the inspiration to try out dyeing her own hair, that was such a pale white that looked more a dragon hide color than on a young girl’s head. The dyes would provide her with natural coverage, and protect her fragile scalp as well -- and as she lacked the proper pigment, held any colors it took rather well, be they natural or more fanciful.
Three months after she had turned fourteen, well into her apprenticeship as a dressmaker, she was invited to come along to High Reaches Weyr on a delivery. With a hatching impending, there were important orders that were to be filled. Yet, with the hatching days away, they had been invited to stay to watch such a special honor. What a privilege it had been, with Kurivos watching from her mother’s side as eggs shattered and babies found their intendeds. Yet, there had been one on the sands that wouldn’t find his. The blue had snapped and snarled, barking at any candidate or hatchling that came near him. Yet it wasn’t until his eyes finally took notice of the stands above him that Kurivos suddenly found those small eyes found hers, and a whirlwind of emotions hit her all at once because why was His all the way up there when he had been looking for her down there and could she please come feed her Slistalth? The change was.. dramatic. Where she was ecstatic, her heart racing as she near tore through the stands to reach Hers, it was with a finality that her life was set to change. There would be no going back home, for she now had a new home at High Reaches Weyr. It was with a heavy heart that she bade goodbye to her family, and faced Weyrlinghood head on with no prior experience or knowledge. Yet it was daunting, Slistalth’s drive would push her to excel and catch up to her other weyrlings. It was through his confidence that she hyphenated her name, and Kurivos to become K’vos. At graduation, her parents gifted her with a firelizard egg, and would hatch into a sweet little blue she would name River. He was a sweetheart, and would help relaying letters and keeping in touch with her family.
It was sometime during her weyrlinghood that it was noticed that K’vos’ body never quite reached its full maturity. Where nature eventually took course with it’s monthly cycles, K’vos’ never did. It’s an odd suspicion that her albinism was to blame, or just even worse luck on her genetics. But she was declared infertile, and any hope of having a family as big and as loving as her own was quickly squashed. She tried to be happy, yet it was obvious that it bothered her. Depression nipped as she grew, with a lack of willing to reach other interpersonally any more than friendly associations. Slistalth seemed to mirror this, his own reluctance to chase after rising females and keeping most everyone at friendly arm’s distance.
Yet, eventually someone would get through her meager defenses. A bright candidate, weyrborn that made K’vos’ heart stutter. Cheza helped to breathe lightness into both of their lives. They entered a sweet, gentle romance, taking comfort in each other when they were able to spend some minutes together. Sometimes just looking over K’vos’ renewed interest in making new dresses, or a stolen few candlemarks going on a flight together with Slistalth. A lot of time they spent talking about futures, about the possibilities. Yet that was happily put on hold as Cheza was found by an equally sweet and wonderful green named Zurath. Time spent together was more friendly and less romantic, but still cherished. Slistalth himself seemed to renew as he grew to know the friendly little green, and had even become more… friendly with others, though in his own ways.
As they moved into senior weyrlinghood and gained the privilege, things had happily resumed between them. By the time Cheza and Zurath had rapidly approached graduation, K’vos was utterly besotted with her mate. A bright woman she was happy to watch from the side and shine in the light. Zurath had risen shortly after graduation, and for the first time since his long, self-appointed disinterest in chasing -- Slistalth had flown after her, and had won. The pair were utterly besotted, devoted mates to such amazing, spirited ladies.
Threadfall had come from nowhere, but they had been prepared. High Reaches had given them all the training to be prepared to fight in the face of the threat. It had been daunting, terrifying, but they rose competently to fight the threat. It had been nerve wracking, waiting for word from K’vos’ family, but word eventually reached them that they all had been safe.
The decision to start a family had come from Cheza, throwing back to old talks when she was a candidate about families. It had been tearful but full of happiness, long talks about family and duty with the return of the parasite, and with the help of a dear friend, Cheza had found herself heavy with their first child. K’vos had been smitten from the announcement, doting over her mate as months progressed on. Slistalth and Zurath had been ecstatic, so gently nosing that growing belly and talking about their hatchling. In the fall of 3572, after an easy delivery, they welcomed Chezuri into the world. He was tiny but perfect, cozy in both of his moms care.
Life had been good. Caring for their son, living life together. Having friends to lean on, especially when an off day was spent as a romantic getaway. There was gentle talk of letting time pass before trying for their second child, wanting to have a large family together.
At least, life had been good until the terrible threadfall when K’vos lost half of her world. Cheza and Zurath’s sacrifice hadn’t been a surprise, for the pair loved and admired their mother and weyrwoman. While no fault could be parted on such a noble sacrifice, it left K’vos with an empty weyr, and a son to raise without her weyrmate.
Name: Slistalth Age:1314 15 Hatchday: 3561.10.13 Color: Blue Size: 32’ Sexuality: Demisexual, Heteroromantic Voice Actor:[x] - Luther, Detroit: Become Human Significant Other: Green Zurath (Deceased) (NPC)
Physical Description: By no means is Slistalth a handsome blue -- and he’s perfectly fine if you think like that. He reaches near the max of blue length, though it looks rather like he was stretched a bit thin. His build doesn't match his size--all sharp edges and dangerous looking points, and though he looks underweight, he is in quite perfect health. Yet with his smaller body and longer extremities, it gives him more of an advantage in the air -- if he were to ever use it other than fighting thread anymore.
His main body is a mottled span of medium icy blues, and if he were to ever hold still in the ocean waters, he may just disappear from view. His wingsails are a wide gradient, starting at a sky blue at the tops and working down to ripples of royal blues. Loops of a mid-tone blue spread from his wing thumb joints, flowering down the sails as a striking layer on the darker shifting colors. The last remarkable thing is Slistalth’s head. It's more pointed than some of his brothers and sisters, as his head knobs tend to look rather pointed from some angles. His eyes are drawn almost into ovals, and with his expressive mouth almost looks like a permanent scowl. It gives him a fierce look, to match his rather fierce personality.
Yet while he is normally a very glistening blue, since the fall that robbed him of his weyrmate, Slistalth’s hide has yet to recover from it’s greyed hue. Misery and heartbreak run deep even as time marches on, and worry has begun to mount for his health.
Personality: While Slistalth’s body looks more carved out of ice, his personality is nothing but pure fire. He is loud and passionate, with a burning passion behind whatever he throws his underweight self behind. For those that don’t know him well, he simply comes off as angry as his more angular look gives him -- for his loud voice and boisterous personality do lend quite well to it. Yet that’s not true to the case, or not completely. He simply has a passion for what he believes in, for what he likes. There’s also a healthy dose of social awkwardness that gets near bulldozed out in his attempts to converse with others. His bluntness and straightforwardness might often be mistaken as angry and rude, when in fact his mind just loops a bit on how to properly express what he means. He counterbalances K’vos’ more quiet and wallflower tendency with making himself heard. It has gotten him in a spot of trouble here and again, especially once he was first filling in a wing position -- a mouthy comment about a position change here, a suggestion because wouldn’t his one wingmember’s flame length be more useful there has gotten himself in quite a bit of trouble, but age and maturity have helped tempered a lot of those notions down--at least, vocalizing them and especially so bluntly.
Salty and brash, Slistalth seemed to forever just be a mouthy brat. Yet his passion-filled hearts have found other ways to push his unending energy to drive in other directions. He encourages others, even if it seems more berating sometimes rather than encouraging. But he’s trying, with good intentions, even if it needs read between the lines. Interacting with others is.. very hard for him, when he wants what’s best but sometimes tends to shove a paw in his mouth in expressing it.
The most exposed and sweetness that lurks in Slistalth has ever been drawn forth by four individuals--K’vos, for certain. His rider knows how to ease the loops of his mind and suss out what her beloved blue really means. His beloved Zurath, his friendly little sprite that could see his intentions and what he meant to say even when he could never properly say it. The third, subsequently, being Cheza--the wonderful woman who made them smile again, that made his rider feel on top of the world. Yet last is his little hatchling, Chezuri, that he and Zurath both cooed over from belly to babe. That teeny bundle helped to quench the fires and help him gain a softer, warmer tone, and often Slistalth speaks to the babe.
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Prism Shine
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Posted: Thu Sep 20, 2018 11:41 am
Name: Nonami Age:1415 16 Nameday: 3560.07.03 Sex: Agender Sexual Orientation: ??? Weyr: Western Weyr Rider Rank: Candidate Previous Rank/Craft: Dabbling in Baking Craft Voice Actor: Significant Other: B'jor, of Brown Mesikath (Spockat)
Physical Description: For such a young age, Nonami can be so easily overlooked. They’re a touch on the plain side, a wallflower amongst their peers. A teeny copper thing standing at barely 5’2”, their build is slight, but some lean muscle that is stronger than they appear. Their But if there could be one word to summarize Nonami’s overall appearance, it would be mousy. Their hair falls down to their mid back, a soft pale brown that reflects their mother’s shade closely. It looks almost washed out in color. Bangs fall over their eyes, hiding the bright blue-green gaze from the world. Nonami’s dress style typically leans more to baggy, soft clothes. Even in the hot sweltering summers, they prefer clothes that can be so easily hidden in. Due to their penchant for baking craft, at most times spots and smudges of flour can be found on them.
Personality: For coming from two very outgoing and confident parents, Nonami is a shockingly introverted person. To a fault, Nonami is a very sweet individual. Their mother raised them in her coda; to be kind onto others, always keep arms open wide for anyone who may need it. They are selfless, always willing to give whatever is on hand whenever someone needs something. Sometimes that only thing they can give is a warm shoulder and some freshly baked good. Pies make for excellent comfort food, after all. Beneath that shyer exterior, Nonami is a rather affectionate person. They want to love the world, even if it’s rather.. Intimidating.
Yet Nonami has some massive shoes to fill--between a radiant mother, a master courtesan of a father, and a goldrider half-sister, they are nervous for the world. It’s left them rather.. Unsure of themselves a lot of the time. They try, oh do they try -- but insecurity bites hard, and often times their attempts at taking a step towards progress or being a bigger voice often end in cringing back into that internal shell. Hesitation has often led them to shying away from bigger things, unsure if they’ll be wanted or needed.
It’s a long road, but they want to help people. They want to be able to Impress their lovely, unique dragon, and be able to help defend Pern.
Positive Trait List Sweet, Selfless, Affectionate Negative Trait List Meek, Insecure, Hesitant
Impression Effect: Nonami will always be a timid creature, but they will find themselves standing just a bit taller, just a bit prouder, just a bit more independent than they were before Negoncath found them. A new confidence will wrap around them like a shroud from this day forward. Meek and shy as they might be, Negoncath accepts them implicitly. The world might be a scary place, but it's less so now that they've found Theirs.
History: Nonami was born as a product of a flight, the fifth of six biological children their mother would have (so far), to Amiari of green Cloveth and E’ros of blue Amoranth in Western Weyr. A quiet baby, they never cried much, and often times it left Amiari always checking if Nonami actually needed something and just wasn’t being vocal about it. Life growing in the Weyr during the peaceful turns was quiet, gentle. They spent most time with their mother and the gaggle of siblings and foster siblings. Cloveth, their mother’s dragon, was also a preferred playmate, for the green was always so friendly and loved being covered in climbing children.
Yet a lot of their time, especially after their eighth turn day, was spent wandering down again and again to the lower caverns with their older half sister. Ezyzu would show Nonami how to work around the kitchen when it was empty, and was the one who began to introduce a fierce love of baking and baked goods. While Ezyzu was a good teacher, they were eventually turned over to the bakers, who taught them things their older sister did not.
As they approached their tenth turn, they began to question their gender designation. It didn’t feel.. right. Neither did the other. Gender in itself never sat right with Nonami, and while it bothered them to have pronouns that didn’t feel right, their shyness often led them to never say anything for a long time. It wouldn’t be until thread returned, and they had to watch with bated breath and tears in their eyes with their siblings (and the newest in their eldest sibling’s arms) as Amiari and Cloveth arrived back at Western on a golden dragon’s back after being battered down by thread. The stress of almost losing their mother made everything explode from their mouth at Amiari’s bedside, the flow of tears that couldn’t quite stop. Their mother had gently shushed them, gathering Nonami in her arms as much as she could. The reassurances were gentle and roughly-voiced, but thorough. Throughout her recovery, Amiari helped her child feel safe and secure--in neutral pronouns and dressage that made them feel comfortable.
Nonami began to bloom finally, feeling comfortable and just a bit more confident. Finally able to enter candidacy after the hatching that their sister impressed to, they’re excited and nervous to finally be able to step onto the sands.
Other: Despite being majorly raised by Amiari, Nonami very much loves their father and has always been openly encouraged by their mother to keep in contact. They send letters and gifts in the form of tightly wound baked goods -- and looks forward to each and every visit.
Name: Negoncath Age: 1 Hatchday: 3575.06.12 Color: Green Size: 20' Sexuality: ? Mate: Brown Mesikath, of B'jor (Spockat) Voice Actor:
Physical Attributes: Negoncath is small for a green. Everything about her is just a little delicate, though she is known to have a slightly bigger and flatter head than some of her fellows. Her headknobs are also a bit larger and fatter than most, giving her a somewhat peculiar appearance--but the rest of her is small, and slim, and trim.
Her wings are long and broad; she is not always the best at being a speed demon, but she can glide effortlessly, and tends to use the wind and its thermals to carry her high and far. Her flame is also quite potent.
Personality: Negoncath is an absolute sweetheart, and that is the first thing that any might find. This small green has nothing but honey laced within her words, and every word is genuine. Negativity doesn't seem to exist within this darling, and she can find the best in every personality that crosses her way. This green, no matter how frustrated, tense, or upset she might be, will never say a harsh word against another; though she might wilt when she is distressed, she knows that cruel or harsh words from others likely were spoken out a moment of pain, and thus, tries to counter by treating those most cruel, the most gently. If ever there was a dragon who might see the softer side of life, it would be Negoncath.
Her words, compliments, and gentility aren't just lip-service. No, she is a green who is far too sincere to speak half-truths or lies. She means what she says, and says everything as delicately as she can. Unfortunately, this can get on then last nerve of some individuals. She is sweet, but could also be described as cloying; sometimes, there is such a thing as too much honey, and this green missed the memo. Especially as she ages, her sweet sentiments might become trying on others; her compliments are seemingly endless, but not every statement needs to be dripping with adoration, awe, or kindness; not every statement has to be excessively sentimental.
And with Negoncath, it absolutely is. Even her rider will not be sparred from this sweet green's sentimentality and oozing adoration. In fact, this green will be her riders greatest source of support; if ever they are in doubt or feeling down or upset, Negoncath will be there to sing their praises morning, noon, and night.
Negoncath is a dedicated and devoted green. She loves her rider, her Weyr, and isn't afraid to face the Enemy. She knows her place--even if greens can rise up, she would not wish it. She, more or less, follows the instinctual order and hierarchy of colors; she respects metallics for the shine on their hide, browns and blues are well above her, and whites are to be encouraged and looked after as delicate things--never-mind, some might well be able to outfly her! This green will be the best she can be for the betterment of her Weyr, and knows that they are given orders, rules, and restrictions for reasons. She's naturally a pushover, and doesn't stand up for herself when someone more important (or more metallic) might happen to boss her around. She's an easy target, or can be, but her sweet nature means she would never dare speak out against them.
Life can be a scary and dangerous place, after all, and Negoncath moves through it with utmost care and caution. She truly believes her Wingleaders and Weyr have her best intentions at heart, and therefor, would not dare to lift a claw against them. She isn't the sort of dragon who causes waves, and happily rolls over as soon as there's any ounce of contention. Rest assured, even when upset or disappointed, this green refuses to speak an ill word to anyone.
Additional Notes: Negoncath is a bit more delicate, and will wear out faster than some of her siblings of similar size and color. Her rider will need to keep an extra eye on her as Negoncath likely won't be forthcoming about anything that seems off or amiss.
When it comes to flights, Negoncath isn't the sort to wait. She will rise when it is time, and even if she has a preferred favorite, will simply abide by the rules of the flight-- the strongest, fastest, smartest, or luckiest will win her. Those are the rules, after all, nevermind if her rider says she can bend them.
Negoncath prefers warm, dry, sunny days and tends to loathe rainy days.
Purple and White Swirl Egg: A small egg that exudes nothing but warmth and love.
Why Me? Nonami (Prism Shine)
Nonami and Negoncath are two peas in a pod. To start, Negoncath is naturally a cautious creature, always wanting to go through life playing it safe. She is a green who has no ambitions besides taking care of Hers, doing her Wing proud, and ensuring that she is the best-green-she-can-be. Let others fight over politics, she would much rather live life gently and quietly than with confrontation and stress. That is, in part, what drew her to Nonami.
Nonami is a gentle and meek spirit, and one that Negoncath knows they can depend upon to accept the green as she is, fully. They don't have to be ambitious to be happy; they don't have to make waves to be heard or validated. They can simply be themselves, and that in itself is enough, even as Nonami is to this green. Never again need Nonami be insecure or unsure of their place, for their place is with this green, as a future defender of Pern. Should Nonami feel down, Negoncath will always be there telling them how beautiful they are, how terribly clever, how amazing they are. Additionally, when Nonami is hesitant to assert themselves, or take action, Negoncath's dedicated hearts will come in handy. Should Hers need help making a decision or facing down a fear, Negoncath will be the sweetest and dearest form of encouragement, constantly there to help aid, to be firm (in her fashion), but never to push hard or force.
Nonami will find a green who soaks up all of their affections, and will be ever loving in return. When life gets hard, Negoncath will be there to help shield Nonami with sweet words and endless love; when life goes right, Nonami will have a green praising them. When Negoncath finds her own hearts slighted, she will lean on Nonami and take comfort in Nonami's endless love. Honestly, the only person in the world Negconath treasures praise from is Hers... and she will do whatever she can to keep Nonami happy. Though they might seem like a match that could stagnate, Negoncath is still a fighting green, and she will be there to ensure that Nonami and she are ready to do their duty. They may have tender hearts, but that doesn't make them any less potent a match, or potent Threadfighters. Love, sweetness, and tenderness can conquer all, and Nonami and this green will prove such a feat daily!
At the end of the day, the Weyr will never find more selfless and sweet hearts than in these two. If given a chance, they will be capable, devoted wingriders, and be a coveted asset to any wing.
Impression:
Quote:
Purple & White Swirl Egg, out of no where, seemed to surprise itself as quite suddenly the egg's very top popped off. A small green dragon blinked out at the world, eyes wide, and gave a startled, almost apologetic cheep. She... she ducked her head bashfully back into her egg, trying to hide just a moment longer. She had wanted out but... Suddenly, quite suddenly, she felt very small indeed.
Quote:
The small Purple and White Swirl green finally lifted her head back out of her shell. Her eyes whirled a mix of blue-green-yellow, and she glanced between the form of her mother, the bulk of her father, and then all the Candidates.
There were so many feelings... So many...thoughts.
Leaning forward, the front half of her shell broke against her weight, sending the green honking in alarm as she rolled most ungracefully out of her egg. She tried to spread her wings, but only wound up more tangled... and cried piteously. Oh dear, oh dear... What a right mess she'd made, and she couldn't, quite, get herself untangled.
Halp! She creeled with worry, stepping upon her caught wing, even as she buried her poor snoot into the sand. This wasn't right at all, oh no! Would anyone be her hero?
Quote:
The little green stared up at Melhaika, giving a grateful and thankful croon as the stranger helped. Her eyes whirled a bright blue-green, and she absolutely radiated nothing but gratitude as her errant wing was untangled.
Oh...what a hero.
Though she didn't immediately speak, she rubbed against the other, giving a small trumpet--thought it certainly wasn't from Impression. Oh! A true hero, right on these very Stands. How good you are to have helped! I won't forget you, and shall be sure to tell mine of such a brave, and miraculous rescue! Oh, the green was absolutely awestruck, and her words weren't at all fake; she truly was amazed by this Act Of Great Kindness During Her Time Of Exceptional Need.
Only a few minutes out of the shell, and already she needed a little help! My oh my... The little green new she had to find Hers, but she wanted to be sure that Melhaika's good deed was recognized for what it was!
Such a good Candidate. Such a Nice Young Man. Though it was sweet, this little green was nothing but pure.
Lafemy was noted--though she did wilt just a little at his gentle reproach. She had hurt herself... but.... she would clearly need to do better. Oh... Oh dear.
Quote:
One moment she was praising a hero, and the next, she was pushed hard out of the way by one of her sisters. She creeled in surprise, collapsing into a heap as she lost her footing in the soft sands.
Oh dear, oh no! This was just... How could she. How could she do such a horrible thing? Upsetting her sister, when she had only meant to be do good!
The small green creeled with despair, even as she lay fallen in the sands. She was certain her leg was bruised, and she didn't dare to lift herself up. Oh, life was so hard... So terribly hard. And yet... Creeling with distress, she reached out to the one being who might be able to help her. The one being she needed, if only she might find them.
Nonami! Dearest, most wonderful, most adorable heart. Your Negoncath has fallen. I am afraid I have done wrong, and I... I need you, oh precious one. You, who are my everything, you who are so great. I did not need the other one, for it is, and will always only be, You. Still, the green realized that they should at least make an attempt--her sister, as well as the fall, had surprised the infant more than anything.
Struggling once more to get up, the little one creel softly. I need you. Oh, how she wished to look into their eyes, and surround them with nothing but sweet affection and love.
Quote:
The sight of the healer was a bit of a welcome one, for while they could still put some weight on their foot, it wasn’t exactly a healthy walking stride. There’s an arm around them, and Nonami leans slightly per his instructions, and oh, that certainly was much better. Irony being it had to be their bad leg from when they tumbled down the stairs, but at least with the pressure off, they can hope to get it taken care of to.. To…
A touch, a voice of a dragon they had never felt before, calling… their name? Their gaze was far away, hearing the sweetest voice call to them, need them -- needed them--
“She needs me,” It was more a gasp, a cry for one who needed them as they’d never been needed before. They turned in Fivudel’s grasp, worming away from the healer’s grasp to stumble and stagger (with no help thanks to an injured leg) past Xanael and other candidates until they see her.
She was still in a heap, struggling to get up in the sands beneath her, but Nonami only had to see the soft, pale colors of her hide to know that was their Negoncath. Those eyes, a slow-whirling rainbow tinged a worried yellow, were like nothing Nonami had ever imagined, and their heart was suddenly full. Where doubts had sunk in like tunnelsnake fangs were suddenly released. The doubts that had hung over their head since half a turn ago, if they were truly what would make a good rider and partner to a dragon, if they were making such a mistake.. Their heart was free from these nibbling anxieties. Instead, there was only love. Love of a little green who poured both of her hearts across their tender new bond.
As Nonami stepped forward, mind too preoccupied by the flood of warmth and adoration to notice the pain of their leg much, Negoncath creeled softly once more.
I need you.
“And you have me.” Perhaps the heat of the sands was getting to them, for suddenly the little green’s hide was beginning to blur a touch -- no, those were just tears, to be scuffed away with the back of their hand. “As I have you.”
Always. Finally, Nonami was able to reach her side, hands reaching out confidently to stroke her cheeks. Negoncath pressed into their palms, and the candidate -- no, weyrling! -- laughed, gently moving to help their dearest, sweetest, perfect dragon to stand before making their (slow, careful) way off the sands. Taking care of Negoncath was first priority… and then an apology to Fivudal and proper attention to their leg.
Family Amiari of Green Cloveth - Prism Shine - Mom, Rider at Western E’ros of Blue Amoranth - Uta - Father, Master Courtesan T'mor of Brown Phylideth - demon_pachabel - Dad, Wingleader at Western Aranali of Blue Kolosoth - Hattaki - Older Brother, Bluerider at Western, 29 Ezyzu of Gold Khamaith - Prism Shine - Older Sister, Goldrider at Western Iridyn - Prism Shine - Older sibling, between 15-24 (WIP) (UNNAMED NPC) - Adoptable - Older sibling, between 15-24 Kalari - NPC - Younger sister, 3
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Firelizards
Posted: Thu Sep 20, 2018 11:43 am
Name: Amiari Age:4950 51 Nameday: 3525.05.12 Sex: Female Sexual Orientation: <3 Weyr: Western Weyr Rider Rank: Wingrider Previous Rank/Craft: Courtesan Hall -- Dancer Journeyman Voice Actor:[x] - Autumn Blaze, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic Significant Other: T'mor, of brown Phyliadeth (demon_pachabel)
Physical Description: Amiari looks and breathes confidence. She’s a born motherly type, from her personality down to her appearance. Her skin is a warm bronze, standing a medium 5’6” and confidence in every inch. Willowy and lively, movement comes easy to her. Long, earthy locks fall to her waist, usually pulled back in buns or ponytails -- or done up in plaits, beads, and feathers if she’s feeling rather showy. Even after having six kids, her form is curvy and fit. Wide hips carried on dancing feet. The wind is free with this one, her bright green eyes always smiling or laughing in the perpetual happiness that radiates from her. Two beauty marks dot her cheek below her right eye. Whenever she’s being a good rider or good mom, she’s dressed down -- but give her the chance to dress up and she’ll be there looking like a star. She even takes paints to her slithering thread scars that race down her shoulder and side, down her thigh as well. Months upon months of rehab never held her down from walking--nevermind dancing again.
Personality: Amiari is nothing short of a loving woman. She dances through life, easy and gentle. She has a fierce compassionate side to her--for she loves so deeply. Her Weyr, her dragon, her kids--nothing stops her from embracing everything that she can. Her arms or shoulder is open, if someone should need a shoulder or hug. A mother to her core, she can’t ignore a child to a fault--should they need anything, be hungry -- Faranth help her if they’re crying. It’s caused her to step on some toes, but Amiari is very compulsive and need driven--especially if someone needs her.
Art by demon_pachabel
Yet Amiari is also on the flightier side. She breezes but also flutters--avoiding longer-lasting relationships with gentle let-downs and friendly smiles. It’s not to say she can’t make friendships, oh no. But relationships aren’t quite the thing she’s ever looked for, ever since her heart was broken so many turns ago. Yet it doesn’t stop her from enjoying flights so eagerly with a dragon that is a touch rise-happy, and all the better for the occasional friends-with-benefits. She’s sweet, kind, and loving to any that want her attention, but less-so on the mark to be tied down. It’s left an impression on her to treat herself with a bit of self respect, and treats herself with small things--even if she ends up sharing them with her kids. Baked goods, treats, new garments, oftentimes some of this wealth gets shared around even if her intentions had been rather hedonist at heart.
A dancer at heart, Amiari has learned to sway and weave with what life throws at her. Thread, months of injury rehab? Turned into grounded kid-bonding time. First unplanned pregnancy? The beginning of one of the best joys life has given her.
Positive Trait List Compassionate, Loving, Adaptable, Generous Negative Trait List Flighty, Gamophobe, Compulsive, Hedonist
History: Amiari was born in mid spring to a loving pair of riders at Western Weyr. She was a bright, happy child from the start, never shy about smiling or being around strangers. Who are strangers when the Weyr is your family? Bright and super friendly, she was always happy when there was a celebration and dancing to be had. Yet her parents noticed she had a penchant and passion, she was sent to Courtesan Hall to learn to be a dancer. It was a privilege and an honor, and while Amiari missed out on turns worth of standing for clutches, she learned her craft and buckled down for something she was passionate about.
She would walk the tables when she was just into her seventeenth turn, and made her way back to Western Weyr as a proud Journeyman Dancer. Taking her training with her, she was happy to jump back into Weyr life and able to spread what she had learned. She took up the mantle of a candidate happily, though she had also turned her sights on what other avenues she could bring enrichment to Western--for she had all but assumed she would age out eventually, and wanted to bring wealth in other ways than defending Pern.
A tiny spring green dragon begged to differ, for she sashayed into Amiari’s life so happily. Amiari was Cloveth’s, just as Cloveth was hers.
They tackled weyrlinghood together, putting all their might into learning all they could--while enjoying the most out of life. It was through their senior weyrlinghood that Amiari had met someone that she might have loved, met through wanting to learn how to dance. Their twisting dance lasted well after graduation, but not long after. She was dropped like a bad habit, and the greenrider put on the bravest face she could--until she rolled her ankle and landed in the infirmary and on the ground for a few weeks. It was during this time that she learned she was pregnant with her first child, the child of her former lover.
Yet despite her heartache, she eagerly awaited meeting her first child--and fell in love with motherhood. While Amiari wasn’t entirely eager to give her heart away again, she gave it to the perfect bundle in her arms--the first of many. Six biological children and many, many fosters would make her life more complete, each and every one getting all her heart could give--even if it meant her love life was nothing more than a flitter in the wind.
It was but a few short turns after her sixth child’s arrival that she was finally able to rise to meet threadfall for the first time--and it ended about as poorly as she could have lived through. A massive clump collided into her’s and Cloveth’s side, down her left side and continuing into Cloveth’s. They had to be caught, and it was months upon months to recover again. Crutched walking lead to walking, led to running, lead to dancing. Slowly she was herself, reassuring her kids that she was okay, that they were okay -- and thankful she lived to see another day with her beautiful children.
She watches as they grow from the sidelines--as Ezyzu grows with her little golden girl, as Nonami gets ready to stand for their first hatching. It’s all Amiari can do to prepare her children for their future.
Physical Description: Cloveth is constantly moving, even if it’s just the gentle sway of her head and neck. Full of constantly flittery energy, the only time she’s ever not constantly moving is when she’s sound asleep--even if a light sleep, Cloveth shuffles and kicks. Her hide is a bright spring green, grassy and bright. She is just a bit bigger than the average green, with wide wingsails and carry this dancing girl across the sky to kiss the clouds. Threadscars mar her left side, down her shoulder where her rider had sat and trailing down her chest and foreleg. Deep ugly scars that never weigh her down, for she is still able to move freely after so much time spent recovering.
Personality: Cloveth is a happy girl to a fault!! Where others might find this unending wave of sunshine and rainbows bothersome, Cloveth is rather oblivious to it all. She is an eternal hatchling it seems, for she makes time to play--especially with her rider’s collected clutch. All the tiny kids give Cloveth a run for her marks, for the silly green is never happier to be covered in laughing children. She is gentle, always making more trills and cheeps than any other notes out of her, almost like a large bird.
Like her rider, Cloveth is a flighty thing. Sweet and kind, and always happy to cuddle up with any lovely dragon of any color, her hearts are as free as the breeze. While she gives attention to any who wish it from her, she has yet to let herself be caught by any other than in the air. She likes to dance in the air, but unlike Amiari, has not quite sold off never having a mate. She is just like her breeze of a rider--have fun trying to nail down the wind.
Flights are a thing Cloveth most enjoys. Dancing in the air, kissing clouds with her wings, caressing her suitors with the gentlest of praise.
Family Aranali of Blue Kolosoth - Hattaki - Rider of Blue Kolosoth, first born Ezyzu of gold Khamaith - Prism Shine - Rider of Gold Khamaith, second child (UNNAMED NPC) - Adoptable - Third born child, between 15-24 (UNNAMED NPC) - Adoptable - Fourth born, between 15-24 Nonami - Prism Shine - Fifth born, Rider of Green Cloveth Kalari - NPC - Youngest, sixth child, 7
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Prism Shine
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Posted: Thu Sep 20, 2018 11:44 am
"There should have been a better farewell. But in the end, there never is. And we take what meagre scraps we can find." -Richard K. Morgan
Name: Cavera Age:21 22 Nameday: 3553.01.01 Deathday: 3575.08.06 Sex: Female Sexual Orientation: Heterosexual Weyr: High Reaches Weyr Craft: Jeweler Journeyman Rank: Jr Weyrling Voice Actor:[X] - Aerith, Final Fantasy VII: Advent Children Significant Other: None
Name: Aviforth Age: Weyrling Hatchday: 3574.11.20 Deathday: 3575.08.06 Color: Blue Size: 33' Sexuality: Omnisexual Mate: None Voice Actor:[X] - Jack Harkness, Doctor Who, Torchwood
Died Between during their first solo Between lesson on their return trip home.
Physical Description: A gentleness radiates from this small jeweler. Her build is rather average, while standing at a short 4’11” -- its clear genetics were a bit kind as if she were taller, she might look a bit lanky and thin. As is, her form is well rounded and soft for her height, perfect in it’s own way. A soft bit of weight gathers at her stomach and hips, though not too unflattering if she gave half a glance at making herself look good. Cavera’s style of dressing is rather loose and not too flattering--choosing comfort over style. However she does own a nice gather best dress or two, even if she rarely wears them even at gathers.
Long brown locks fall to her shoulders, mostly straight with a slight curl. A rather plain brown, yet in the sun they warm up with a gentle reddish hue. They frame her face well; large, kind greyed blue eyes that peek from behind the curtain. Despite the rather doe-ish naive appearance, there’s a quiet strength behind them--warm and inviting like you have known her for a long time even at just meeting her. Mountain life and an indoors lifestyle have led to Cavera having a very pale appearance. Kissed by golden freckles and darker beauty marks, she easily burns in too much sun exposure. Wind burn often leads to her cheeks and button nose appearing rather rosy and sometimes chapped.
Her hands are gently calloused as well, though she takes to a skin care regiment so that way her hands and face don’t crack from wind and work. It leads to have softer skin; gentle and warm as her personality.
Personality: At her core, Cavera is a romantic.
Raised on nothing but old tales of romance, matches made though they shouldn’t have, it caught her from a young age. Nevermind that the core of her stories centered around a love of Lessa’s tales at a young age. It rooted in her a core concept that a handsome searchrider would sweep her off her feet to a Weyr, where she would meet the other love of her life on the hot sands. Love will find a way, no matter how far or wide it may have to go--or how forward or back in time.
Yet those very stories helped instill not just a large sense of romanticism, but also the stories she falls back on when she isn’t sure. For what would someone so sure of themself and brave do? Even when she’s scared, she recalls tales and old stories of those who stood up for what was right. Surely she could do the same? Even if it’s more to a bully and less a raging lord holder. Even if the bully is nasty, and harsh words lead her to crying in a closed quarter later. The harshest word leaves her flinching, a punch may leave her bruised or bleeding, but it doesn’t stop her from standing up straight to protect someone else.
Such a romantic heart has led to Cavera being rather selfless. She’d rather give someone a project she was hoping to fetch half a mark--maybe even a whole mark if she dared think it was decent enough work!--for free because they desperately forgot an anniversary or a nameday gift for a friend. It’s left her with a tendency to be taken advantage of, for the littlest, weakest stories she will believe in. Surely someone wouldn’t lie about such a thing. Surely! They just keep forgetting nameday gifts for all their friends. No one would lie to her. Cavera sees the good in people, and can get rather blind to the duplicitous nature some may have.
Cavera’s naivety and her thin-skin has bled into self-depreciating mental state. The decimation of Telgar has left her fragile, losing family, friends-- it’s left her previously fragile state almost brittle. For while it is so easily she is taken advantage of, she also takes to heart what people say. Even if it’s veiled words to lower her self confidence. For why would such a silly dreamer with par skills at jewelry be picked by a dragon? Yet she keeps her head up, and makes sure to smile and do her best every day.
While Cavera likes to make new trinkets, she also has a mild obsession with fixing old, broken jewelry. She throws herself into her craft, eager to learn and toy. Broken trinkets were good ones for her to practice on when she first began her apprenticeship. Why throw something away when it can be fixed? Everything deserves a chance, after all. Even broken little things.
Positive Trait List Gentle, Romantic, Altruistic, Brave Negative Trait List Naive, Thin-Skinned, Self-defeatist
History: In the wee hours of the day after turnover, Cavera was born to a besotted and exhausted pair of parents at Smithcrafthall. She had been expected to be born near a sevenday before then, and then perhaps on turnover. But the early candlemarks before the suns would rise, she finally arrived on her own accord. Her mother was a tinkerer--fostering a deep love of tinkering and toying within Cavera from an early age. Her father was a blacksmith--a gentle giant of a man who adored his only daughter and child. He was the one who lulled Cavera to sleep at night with sweet tales of old, namely fostering the love of Lessa in Cavera’s heart. They led by example, wanting their child to grow knowing her own importance--even if they could never quite fill the cracks in her armor.
She grew loved, the only child her parents would have. At the age of 11, she accepted an apprenticeship to become a jeweler. Making lovely little pieces that made people’s eyes light up, or wear with pride on shirts, loose around necks, adorning bags? Filled her with pride. She wanted to learn all that she could, and Cavera threw herself into her work--wanting to learn everything she ever could. Her childhood was quiet and normal. Turns of her learning more and more like an eager sponge. A happy life with her family, making an odd friend or two while she proved herself worthy to learn under a watchful eye.
Everything was normal, until hell rained down upon them.
Thread came, and decimated the region. Her parents, in the altruistic way they lived their lives, had died much in the same way. Trying their best to pull people to safety, rescue people in the heat of stampeding people and silvery death falling from above. They both succumbed to their injuries, and left Cavera an orphan. Two turns of mourning, rebuilding, trying to heal. She lost track of friends, not knowing if they got to safety or were among the count of undescernable deceased. Shortly before she turned 21, she walked the tables--smiling a bit hollowly. While she has no physical scars, the mental scars from deep. Yet she tries to keep a straight face, smile warmly. Be an anchor for everyone else while she tries to find her own place in Pern.
Physical Attributes: He’s a very fluid blue. He’s long, limber without being seen as lanky. Aviforth’s wings are large without being cumbersome, and this dragon always seems to have a mastery of his form, even when goofing around. Aviforth takes full advantage of his sleek form, for he is an active dragon. He sashays when he walks, and his wings are always in movement--using them more like fans as he dances through life. Once he’s able to fly, those massive fans will always be going, for his rider will have a hard time ever getting him back on the ground.
Personality: Excuse me, coming through -- the party is here, baby! Aviforth vyes to be the center of attention. He’s an attention hog from the get-go, wanting the spotlight to be on him. From the bright chipperness of his personality, to the fluidity of his body -- he’s here baby, come check him out! However, he’s not a completely selfish dragon, and doesn’t mind dragging someone into the spotlight, or sharing it when need be. Come share the light and dance with him, he doesn’t quite mind! Quite, being the operative word. Life is a party, why not enjoy it?
Aviforth radiates cheer out of every inch of his silky hide-covered body. There’s so much negativity between thread and everything else, why does everyone feel so negative about life? He’s there to breathe fun into everything. Games, happy chatter -- he’s there, Aviforth knows just what to do. Yet it often leads to him dancing and side-stepping around responsibility. He’s definitely not a dragon who has his eyes on the social ladder, and that’s perfectly fine by him! But chores and lessons will be an absolute bore, as will wing drills--and has a rather brattish take on them. Why fly a certain way when the sky is so limitless? He wants to be as free as a bird, not confined down to such limited space!
With a masterful control of his body, Aviforth is quite proud of his class clown title. He isn’t quite the smartest of his siblings and cousins, or at the very least seems to not learn his lessons. Why pay attention when he can show off for his siblings in how fun trying to stand on only his front two feet can be? Oh, a somersault! Let’s do that again, it gained some laughs! He loves to make someone happy! Playful at his core, it will take a lot of patience and gentle handling to find a balance for Aviforth--that there is time for play, but also needing to make time for work. It will be a very fine line to hammer down, for Aviforth’s sensitive sense of self wilts as he’s pressured to shape up--and will need gentle guidance to find that he doesn’t have to quite give up who he is just to get what’s needed done.
As he grows, Aviforth will find that everyone is pretty. Scars? Overweight? Missing bits? Nope! Everyone is pretty in his mind, for everyone is worth celebrating. Flirting will come a bit easier as he grows and matures, and finds his slinky body even more useful to cause dragons to stutter--often using his more playful, affectionate nature to brush up alongside a dragon, for Aviforth has always been a cuddler. From Golds down to Whites never escape his gaze, and he can always find something pleasing about any dragon.
Additional Notes: Aviforth is a quirky dragon at his core. Out of his shell, he’s dancing to the beat of his own drum. His wings are wide and used more as an expressional show of whatever he’s feeling. Harpers will always have the biggest fan in Aviforth--especially ones that play more upbeat tunes! Flights are one thing this dragon enjoys -- flying and dragons to flirt with? The best of both worlds. Yet his eyes stray to all sides of every flight, for he appreciates dragons of all colors.
Origin of Name: Derived from a combination of the latin word avid for “bird” and forma for “shape”.
Inspiration: Avifors is the transfiguration spell that transforms the target into a singular bird or into a flock of birds -- occasionally into a flock of bats, as well. The spell is vivid burst of blue light.
Theme Song:[x] - Hot Wings (I Wanna Party) - Anne Hathaway, Jamie Foxx, Will.i.am
Egg: Wispy Blue Egg
Why Me? Oh, Cavera! Sweet, dear Cavera. He has waited so long for you. Aviforth is the Court Jester to your Queenly Court--for when a frown may grace your kind face or the tears may fall, he is here to coax a smile from the saddest of moods in any way that he can. He will always catch you before you fall, for he is the most reliable dance partner you could ever hope for -- and you will never feel alone again.
He is here to fly your dreams to the moons, yet will need your more grounded nature to make sure he comes back down to Pern. For his more vibrant personality will gain him some side eyes and negative remarks, and he will need that inner strength to remember to always be yourself, no matter what may be said.
Family ♦ Rizdax (Hattaki) - Found Brother
Relationships
Firelizards
RP Logs x - You're Alive!! [Rizdax & Cavera][PRP] x - Disney and Harry Potter Touching x - Revelio and Open Sesame! Double Clutch Hatching!
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Made by Zaikt
Posted: Thu Sep 20, 2018 12:03 pm
Art by demon_pachabel
Name:Y’qua Age:24 25 Nameday: 3550.12.03 Sex: T*male Sexual Orientation: Eh... Weyr: High Reaches Weyr Craft: Archivist Apprentice Rank: Wingrider in Tsunami Wing Voice Actor: Significant Other: V'gar, of green Ngawanth (Hattaki)
Physical Description: Y’qua doesn’t, by any means, cut any impressive figure for a dragonrider, and that’s perfectly fine for him! He has an overly thin form, with just a bit of a curve to his hips. His chest is rather small to begin with, making binding easier. His facial features are rather sharp, with a rather cut jaw-line and sharp chin and nose. Y’qua’s nose is crooked from being broken as a child, a result of when he was more bitey and unsure about himself and the appendage never set quite right. He has a rather messy undercut, kept shaved on the sides and a floof of dirty blonde hair on top. His eyes are a more soft brown, much like a cup of klah with too much milk added. When he was young, his eyesight started to go blurry, and thus needs a pair of crafted glasses for his regular day-to-day routines to see properly. Having since impressed Heimdath, he had a pair of goggles made to allow him to see in the air without worry of losing his glasses due to wind. The skin on his knuckles is rough and scarred from fighting as a child, though he tries to use creams to soften the scars.
Personality: Y’qua is an.. interesting person. He’s more of an introvert, even from a young age. He was never a personable sort, prefering to keep to books and scrolls over his peer group. Given that he was designated the wrong gender at birth, he grew up as a rather bitey child -- something that would carry over even into his budding adulthood. Y’qua is a sarcastic person within his own peers, when goaded it’s easy for him to toss a barb or word full of teeth at one in his weyrling class. He wants to be alone, rather skirting around free time with his classmates in favor of time spent with Heimdath and pouring over latest texts he was able to get from the archives. Any time spent with large crowds, that isn’t focused aspects of riding like drills or classes, is taxing on him and leaves him even more brusque.
Yet he isn’t one to skirt his duties or responsibilities -- rather, he enjoys his classes and drills. Anything new to learn he soaks up eagerly, and is never quite shy about asking a question to understand something. Even if he’s annoyed with current company, he is driven to complete a task to completion. Yet he grows impatient with his peers, especially if he has to sharding explain something that really seems.. so simple.
There is a budding fire in Y’qua, quick to rise temper -- especially if someone wants to jab at his gender. While that has tempered out some with age, it’s still quite the sore spot if someone presses on it. His squawking has left a big target on his back for bullying, even if it never goes beyond much teasing for reaction’s sake. But it leaves him hurt and aching for solitude in Heimdath’s company, preferring to once again be alone in favor of company that just.. doesn’t understand, and never will understand.
Positive Trait List Observant, Inquisitive, Task-oriented, Sarcastic Negative Trait List Quick-to-anger, Introverted, Impatient, Misunderstood
History: Yilequa was born as a result of flightlust aftermath in High Reaches Weyr. He was told he was dropped by his mother but named first. It would be a driving force for his special interest in arches, and from the moment he was old enough to be allowed, would spend hours upon hours pouring over archives and family lineages trying to find any sort of relation that his name may have come from, but every search would always come up empty.
Raised in the creche with a gender designation that never sat quite right, Yilequa would prove to be a rather feral child whenever he was called anything but what he wanted. Feminine pronouns and more frilly dressage never sat well, and when he was shy of ten, Yilequa finally declared himself a he. Any of the other creche children that didn’t respect that was found on the receiving end of a rather scrappy young Yilequa -- biting, punching, until he was sat down that he could not keep on fighting the Weyr with tooth and nail. Scars were forming, with the youth just on the edge of eligibility for candidacy. Faced with the dilemma of carrying on and not having a chance at candidacy, or clean up and face such an honor -- Yilequa cleaned up his act.
Candidacy from the start was a hard shift. While he was learned, and eager to learn even more -- it became apparent that he wasn’t quite like his other peers. There was a bit of a disconnect, some eager to learn, some not -- some not as bright. It was almost a bit of a let down. The jeers never quite stopped, but Yilequa learned to trade one weapon for another--where he had used his fists and teeth, he now used words. Scathing remarks helped glaze over the wounds left by others, even if he retreated to lick them in private and scrub tears off his face. Between lessons and chores, he traded time others spent together on more academic pursuits. Yilequa spent time pouring over lineages and family histories, trying to find his own missing link and always coming up empty. Yet, once those ended, he would pour over other tomes and documents, eventually beginning to learn how to care for them as the turns grew on. Sixteen clutches came and went, all dragons passing him by.
Turns would pass, and as Yilequa would face the possibility of aging out, the inevitable happened.
Uridith and Takarath’s latest clutch hatched on a morning, twenty-two eggs that yielded twenty three dragons.Yilequa had thought it to be seventeen under his belt, until in the later portion of the hatching, he felt more than saw the little green sitting near the back of the clutch. His Heimdath had wanted to wait-- to watch and make sure all her siblings were seen off safely, but hunger drew her from her silent, watchful post, so if he wouldn't mind..? Yilequa, now Y’qua, had seen to it swiftly, if off to the side.
Other: Y'qua takes up sketching from time to time. Nothing good, but sometimes he gets inspired.
Name:Heimdath Age:12 3 Hatchday: 3573.07.06 Color: Green Size: 20’ Sexuality: Demisexual Voice Actor: Song:[x] - Overwhelmed, Royal and the Serpent Significant Other: --
Physical Attributes: Heimdath, at first glance, does not look like a fit dragon. Running on the smaller side of the average, she has a thicker torso with gangly limbs, giving her a gaunt, underfed appearance. Yet she is quite healthy and eats regularly -- her frame is just not meant to keep up with the more stronger ones of her siblings. Her eyes are more rounded, and giving her tendencies to sit back and observe, give her an odd Watcher feel. Her tail is long but a bit crooked. Threadscore laces across her left shoulder, gentle and not terribly deep.
Personality This dragon is not one for the spotlight, to be sure. Heimdath is a rather solitary dragon, preferring to stay back and observe the going-ons of dragons around her. This self-made seclusion is usually time taken to reflect upon herself or her rider, sometimes even things that did not particularly include her but happened around her. A time for reflection is never truly wasted, for she may suss out what happened and what may have gone better -- and feel that she had been made all the better for it. It is not unusual to see Heimdath rather stoically staring off into space, lost to the inner workings of her mind rather than be attuned to what was around her.
She often tries to give advice on her reflections, for what good it may do when what happened may have happened.. Not entirely recently. As she grows older, her reflections may not take so long, however as she grows it definitely takes time for her to suss out better answers for what may happen.
This attitude, especially wanting to give these little pieces of advice out (and most definitely finding out it had been so belatedly given), often lead her to shy away from his peers. Its then that her self-made alone time becomes rather isolated, and Heimdath begins to feel rather lonely. While she will always have Y’qua, there will always be a part of Heimdath that yearns for dragon companionship that understands her.
The one dragon that seems to utterly bring Heimdath to the light is her Sun of a brother, Aurinkoth. Her pensive states are always broken easily whenever the blue is around, and all the better for it. She stays more in the presence, and oftentimes draws inspiration from her sunny blue for an outlook.
Inspiration: The Hermit Origin of Name: In the Vikings version of the Tarot, The Hermit is represented by Heimdallr standing watch at the edge of Asgard, awaiting the signs of Ragnarok. Heimdallr is also known as the Watchman of the Norse Gods.
Additional Notes: Heimdath’s tail is a tad crooked, with the fork of her tail always raising a bit as if holding something up. A small nod to the Hermit card, as it is always seen holding the lantern with the six-pointed star, a symbol of wisdom. Her flame length is quite extended, but she has trouble maintaining a distance for a set amount of time. Flights will forever be a tricky thing for her, for she likes her peace and solitude as chances to reflect -- yet she yearns for companionship to share such reflection and ideas with. Spurned chasing will often result in a few days of little responses from Heimdath as she looks in on what she could have done better. Yet when it comes to rising herself, Heimdath will tend to put it off until she no longer can. Her hearts soaring and yearning to fill the void of loneliness.
Why Me: Oh, Yilequa. It will be okay. Your Heimdath knows what it’s like to not quite fit in, but yearn for it. Where Yilequa uses scathing remarks to keep people away, Heimdath offers odd advice that yields the same result -- a self-made sentencing into social exile. Yet if there were a dragon that could understand that wanting of companionship, of wanting friends and people who understood, it is Heimdath. When people become too much and they need a hideaway, Yilequa will have a comfort in Heimdath always. They can reflect together, learning what they need to to keep each other happy -- and one day use their skills to help.
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Prism Shine
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Posted: Tue Oct 16, 2018 8:28 pm
Name: Wa'ren Age:5960 61 Nameday: 3515.02.14 Sex: Male Sexual Orientation: Bisexual Weyr: High Reaches Weyr Craft: Lumberjack Rank: Wingrider in Trespassers Wing Voice Actor: Significant Other: J'er, of Blue Cyliodath (Spockat)
Physical Description: For being middle-aged, Wa’ren has taken exceptional care of himself. He’s a mountain of a man, just shy of 6’10”. His body is incredibly athletic, built from turns of working as a lumberjack to over four decades as a rider. Broad shoulders taper down some into a slimmer torso and hips, with strong arms and legs. Tattoos race up from his wrists to his elbows, eclectic designs he got when he was a younger, dumber kid. However he maintains them well into middle age, determined to not let them look abysmal even as a mistake.
Scars litter his body--smaller ones, larger ones. Most of these are from his time as a lumberjack, from trees falling where they shouldn’t have to little slips and nicks. A large gash or a scar stretches across his shoulder and down his chest from standing as a candidate.
His face is more rectangular; where there’s a small bit of dark black in his hair is being chased out by white. His hair is usually pulled back, short and choppy. It continues down into a somewhat maintained beard and mustache--more salt and pepper than his mostly grey hair. There’s a large scar that wraps around the left side of Wa’ren’s face, claws that break up his eyebrow, nicked the top of his ear off. Where his eye was is usually covered in an eyepatch whenever he can’t be bothered with the glass replacement that was made for him. Despite this, his other eye is a bright, warm brown, that shines with the warmth of the gentle giant as his smile does.
Personality: This mountain of a man is best known for as a shield, both in physicality and his personality.
Wa’ren is a protector. Even from a young age, the need to protect his younger brother fostered into a protective need to make sure that everyone in his care is Okay. Even if it means protecting themselves against a lie and things may hurt. There’s comfort in the truth, even if it stings. Whether it be the physical act of protecting by carrying someone from a harmful situation or body blocking, or gentle words more befitting a spooked runner foal. He would rather put others before himself, and it has led to a mixed bag of results--from earning a firelizard egg to heavy scars and losing his eye. If you are among Wa’ren’s circle, he will always make an effort to make sure you are okay -- even at the cost of himself.
His protective nature ever extended into fatherhood. While he never expected to become a father, it’s certainly ramped up his protective nature. He’s found a tenderness in himself when it comes to younger people, and even if they’re strangers, it leads to a sense of wanting to make sure they’re okay. Wa’ren is a natural father, and even with his tour across pern to find his brother, considers himself a good father. He dropped everything at a moment’s notice whenever a hatching occurred, and cheered on his kids when they impressed.
Yet, he tends to get a bit fixated on things. Finding his brother and spending turns on the road looking for Re’indt, and it only being Caironairth who was besotted with a High Reaches green that allowed himself to give up on the chase of his brother. While he loves his kids, it’s still an empty hole in his chest that he had to give up on Re’indt once more. When Wa’ren sets his goals on something, he wants to see it through to the end.
Yet there’s a bit of a romantic in Wa’ren, though even in middle-age is more stumbling and new. While not the best smooth-talker, he certainly takes note of cute people he’s met. These long turns have begun to wear on him, and the craving for companionship has started to set in with the blooming of warmth beside Caironairth’s.
Yet his mindset is a bit more traditional, he’s had his views challenged enough that he tries to keep his mind more open. His daughter impressed a white, after all. His need to protect his daughter heavily outweighs his teachings, even if sometimes he has to catch his own thoughts.
Positive Trait List Dedicated, Protective, Fatherly Negative Trait List Tunnel-visioned, Old-Fashioned (but learning), Self-sacrificing
History: Wa’ren is born as Wahadren the first born to a pair of lumberjacks in a cothold outside of Lemos Hold in the later winter months. He came out the near spitting image of his mother, dark hair and bright brown eyes. It would be five turns after that his younger brother, Readeindt is born--with their father’s blonde hair and blue eyes, oddly enough. Even with the age gap and the such difference of appearances, the pair grew up thick as thieves. Even when their father took them on as apprentices to start working at clearing trees and brush, whatever the pair could handle, they did so with grins and playful banter.
They grew up happy and loved as the only sons and children of their parents. Up until a searchrider arrived when Wahadren was almost 15 to claim the kid as a candidate for High Reaches Weyr--and for the first time since Readeindt’s birth, the pair were separated.
It was a heavy weight on Waradren, writing to his brother as often as he could. His family had been present when he’d stood for the first time. But the clutch had been a bit unpredictable, and Wahadren had missed the screaming green who had charged right for him. Her bulk and surprise attack had kept him from trying to get up, as her claws sant into him. She’d carved a gash from his chest up to his shoulder. Just as her teeth were poised, determined to sink into his throat -- a bugle had sounded before a large brown had headbutted the green off of him, standing overtop the dazed and bleeding candidate. Wings spread, head low, eyes whirling red as the hatchling tried to cover him as best as he could until the green had turned her warpath elsewhere. The brown had to be coaxed off of him, before those rainbows had settled on Wahadren--and he could feel how apologetic Caironairth was for the rough treatment of his sister, but His had needed protecting. Impression was made, and Wahadren was now Wa’ren.
Yet it made the rift wider when he didn’t have as much time to write letters home, and the correspondence dwindled until they stopped for years.
While Wa’ren was more focused on drills and throwing himself into his new life, everything else slipped to the wayside. He found out turns after it had happened that Readeindt was searched at 18 to Benden Weyr and had impressed to a bronze named Alderith, and his brother now Re’indt. Wa’ren tried for turns to send letters to his brother once more, but they were always answered. He’d come to find out that his brother had left Benden, and had yet to travel to a new Weyr.
Despite all his roots in High Reaches, including flight-product kids that he adored, he’d broken away from his home in some desperate attempt to find Re’indt. It would be many turns on the open road, trying so desperately to find his brother. Wa’ren would return to the Weyr to watch his kids stand, and always write. Open communication was necessary, for while he had no mate, he loved his children so dearly. It would be on the open road, taking odd jobs to earn marks to survive, that he would gain a firelizard egg. Hot in his hands that would hatch merely days later into the sleek beautiful gold. He’d named her Glimmer, for how even a gold she seemed to sparkle and shine with each little movement.
Towards the end of his stint on the road, he’d been escorting a caravan when there’s been an attack by wild felines. One had gotten close, too close, and slashed at Wa’ren’s face when he'd thrown himself between the big cat and a defenseless man. It cost him his eye and the top of his ear, but he’d survived the encounter. Yet turns upon turns of being on the open road finally were weighing on Wa’ren as he adjusted to losing an eye. His brother may have been gone, might be dead for all he knew. The longing for home sank in deep.
Other:
Name: Caironairth Age:4445 46 Hatchday: 3530.08.25 Color: Brown Size: 42' Sexuality: Greyace Voice Actor: Significant Other: Blue Cyliodath, of J'er (Spockat)
Physical Description: This titan of a brown is massive. Clocking at max brown size, his wings are long and wide--giving way to an impression this boy is even bigger. He’s evenly distributed with longer legs, giving way to a grace when he walks. Caironairth’s frame is trim and well toned, the turns gone by having not added on the extra weight. His hide is, however, littered in scars--from hunting felines, rough and tumble flights, to the latest threadscore. The biggest is the threadscore blitz of a scar up his right shoulder and down across his chest, as well as a stray thread that had gotten him across the left side of his face--somehow missing his eye, even if he sometimes squints it from the tightened skin.
Personality: At his core, Caironaith is a protector. Were it up to this dragon, he would scorch the skies of thread cleared so no one may hurt. Sometimes on a more aggrieved note, he may even wish to sacrifice himself to protect those he loves so that they may no longer hurt. Those that have earned Caironairth’s favor have earned a valiant friend who would do whatever it took to keep you safe and happy.
He cares deeply, perhaps sometimes too much--even if it might not always show itself in it’s best mark. His hearts are too large in his barrel chest, Wa’ren used to tease him. Yet it seems true, for when he loves, he loves with all his might. While someone may mess up, or even attempt to cross him or his loved ones, Caironairth is easy to forgive--but hard to forget. Hurt his loved ones and show you are sorry, he’ll accept it. However, the side eye to make sure the mistake is not repeated is harder to let go.
His speech is a bit slow, as all his movements are. While he is a large dragon, he’s had turns of learning to relax and take his time. Each movement is done with assurance, for he makes sure it is the one needed to take. It’s an easy gentleness to him that gives off a sense of security. Curl up beneath a wing or in his claws, and not a muscle would move until he is relieved of his (usually lovingly self-assigned) watch duty.
Yet his eyes always turn to the bigger problems, so smaller ones often get a rather blunt solution. It often takes a gentle nudge of remembrance that even the smaller things should not be sweat off, as smaller problems build up the same as larger ones hurt.
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Posted: Tue Oct 16, 2018 9:13 pm
Name: Zi'aso Age:2728 29 Nameday: 3547.07.15 Sex: Male Sexual Orientation: Omnisexual, Polyromantic Weyr: Western Weyr Rider Rank: Wingrider of Flame's Fury Wing Previous Rank/Craft: Vintner - Mixologist Apprentice, Dessert Specialist dabbling Voice Actor:[x] - Elio, Call My By Your Name Significant Other:Everyone :thinking:
Physical Description: If one could take the general tones of a swiftpawed feline and throw them into a person, Zi’aso would reflect that too well. He’s tall and long--standing at a solid 6’. Yet for as long as he is, he’s the right shade of graceful rather than lanky. His muscle is all lean, athletic build. Zi’aso is strong, even if he doesn’t seem it. His face is a bit angular, looking more like a feline’s or even a more-founded dragon face, with cheekbones that aren’t overly sharp yet still standing out. He’s on the paler side of tones, with a mess of dusky matte black hair that falls to his nape in wild, loose curls. It helps frame his rather mischievous green-hazel eyes that are always watching, calculating. A smattering of freckles highlights his face, soft enough that in certain lights they may be invisible. Zi’s nose is a bit crooked, broken from being in the wrong place, wrong bed, or saying the wrong thing. A casual, boyish smile that borders more on wolfish just helps reinforce his charm.
Art by tatterpixie
Should Zi ever take his shirt off, all down his back is tattooed very lovingly by his .. friend he transferred from Ista with, Q’dosh. His back is varying shades of green. Three stripes run from his hairline down to his tailbone. Swiftpaw spots spread out on both sides of his spine, spreading out until they start to get to the front of his chest. While these are his only tattoos, Zi’aso isn’t completely against possibly getting more.
Zi carries himself with confidence, with a swagger and a hip pop that make him stand out, and try to highlight his best quality -- his body, in his own mind at least.
Personality: At his best, Zi’aso is a fun-loving guy. He prefers to fill a room, drawing attention to him like a lightning rod. Since he was young, this outgoing man has always drawn people to him. The eldest of four siblings certainly didn’t tamper down any sense of responsibility, instead just inflated his ego. It helped foster a bit more of a party boy attitude in him, with a devil-may-care smile to shrug off the bigger things in life.
His varied knowledge in alcohol has led to using it to his best advantages. Why not use it where he could best benefit from it? Mixing drinks to suit each person’s tastes, down to guessing their personality from their preferences has become a bit of a game. Something to wow people and help get a foot in the door. It’s this combination with his dabbling on what flavors pair well with certain desserts that has led him to becoming a bit of a trick pony -- working to get on the good sides of anyone he can to charm himself into their good graces, and sometimes into their bed.
A boyish smile and charming personality to get close to someone like the schmooze he’s become. Buttering someone up just to get that bit ahead in life. He’d rather try to get himself into the pockets of as many people as he can. After all, why not keep a possibility to heave himself up when he can? This habit is only further reinforced by his impressing a green, and strives to carve any niche he can to keep her safe --himself is rather secondary.
Yet, despite what a name or reputation he has made for himself, any would be surprised to find that Zi’aso is an affectionate lover. Those that don’t mind his open, prowling ways are still subject to Zi returning to give affection, steal a kiss or a roll in the sheets. A hedonist at heart, he likes to return to his comforts -- alcohol and sex right at the top. He’s not a bad man, and any that are caught in his web are certainly never left without the knowledge that he does roam, and while he does care, nailing Zi down is nil impossible.
Positive Trait List Lover, Charming, Extroverted Negative Trait List Hedonist, Advantageous, Irresponsible
History: Zi’aso was born Ziriaso to a married couple on a vineyard cothold in the Benden area. The first of his siblings, with two brothers and a sister following after a few turns of being the only child. He grew up happy and healthy, and unfortunately spoiled. Ziriaso craved the attention, so when he learned he wouldn’t be the only He was almost six turns before his mother became pregnant again -- with two more following just shortly after. But this new responsibility of siblings did nothing to squander the only-child mentality, and stole the spotlight from his siblings.
That isn’t to say that he doesn’t love them, or wouldn’t break someone’s face for insulting his baby siblings -- no. Just give credit where it’s due, please and thank you.
When he was nearly seventeen, Ziriaso had begged his parents to allow him to seek apprenticeship at Vintnerhall. The red vineyard only held his attention so much--he wanted to learn, wanted to grow his skills! He began his apprenticeship with a mixologist, learning to blend alcohols and drinks together to make mixed drinks to soothe any palette. Yet, still unsatisfied in his craving of knowledge and skills, he began a lowkey relationship with a dessert specialist--learning the keys of the trade while also helping to keep someone’s bed warm at night.
He honed his skills, learning all he could--and in turn using those skills to sharpen his charisma and flirt with a good population of the Hall (it was during this time his nose had been broken twice, yet Ziriaso never fessed up who assaulted him) at least until he turned 21. A search dragon from Ista had arrived, looking for any candidates to stand for the hatching, and had found Ziriaso willing.
Tiernoth was the sweetest green, mild mannered even straight from the shell. Ziriaso became Zi’aso, and suddenly his life had a new meaning. While his schmoozing ways had benefited him--he was determined to use this to make any advantages in his life--and Tiernoth’s. Weyrlinghood breezed by, as Zi had a good hand on the reins to make sure he stayed in line.
But his free time was spent cozying up to anyone who would return his interested gaze, particularly his fellow clutch riders. But no one could have expected thread (at least, no one that was outside High Reaches, after all.) Ista had been heavily affected, and the pair did all they could to help repair their home. But with the transfer of Tiernoth’s clutchtwin Turanth and his rider Q’dosh to Western Weyr, it hadn’t taken much to convince Zi to transfer after them. For his green near craved to be close to her brother, and who was Zi to deny her anything on Pern?
Name: Tiernoth Age:56 7 Hatchday: 3569.02.14 Color: Green Size: 25' Sexuality: Um.. boys...? Maybe...? Voice Actor: Significant Other: Blue Turanth, of Q'dosh (Tatterpixie)
Physical Description: The bulk of this lovely green is a mid emerald color. Yet when you get closer to her extremities, they shine like jewels. A lighter spring green shimmers in bands across her wingsails and tail before shattering into glimmering dust. This same shade trails down her nose bridge, and speckles up her feet. She is an average-sized green, mostly correct in her proportions save for a long, whip-like tail. Yet the way this demure girl carries herself, you’d never think she was on the larger side of average.
Personality: Tiernoth is a very soft, sweet green. Demure in nature, she is an introvert at heart. While it doesn’t manifest itself into social anxiety, it is clear she often tries her hardest to not be a burden on anyone or any dragon around her. She does her job, but mildly frets that she is taking up more space than necessary. She is the polar opposite to her rider, quiet in his loud--gentle to his charm.
Due to her soft nature and tendency to make herself as small as possible, Tiernoth has a bad habit of repressing her flights until absolutely necessary--despite encouragement from her rider that it’s certainly okay. Therefor her risings are utterly unpredictable and more on the wild side, as she can not hold them back any longer. But once they’re done, she’ll hide in her weyr for a few days until the memory fades as much of her wild tear in the air--or, as much as a threadfighting dragon can, anyway.
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Posted: Sat Jun 27, 2020 8:40 pm
Name: Tuelarua Age:23 24 Nameday: 3551.10.02 Sex: Female Sexual Orientation: Who really knows! Weyr: High Reaches Weyr Rider Rank: Sr Weyrling Previous Rank/Craft: Candidate, Painter Voice Actor: Significant Other: --
Physical Description: For a tiny stature, Tuela packs a lot of warmth. She’s a tiny thing, standing just barely 4’8”. Her stature for her size is appropriate. Thin limbs and a tiny torso, with the majority of her pale body being lanky limbs. She looks more like a toothpick than a real person, as if the slightest bit of pressure would snap her in half. Yet her face is more heart-shaped, and even thinner cheeks doesn’t stop a warmth from thriving in what should look like a gaunt face. Her eyes are an interesting hazel blend, and in the right light can often look like some strange violet and gold. Yet they are a soft green and mid blue in true reality. Her hair is a coppery red, falling down to her mid-back in a straight curtain--yet it’s often tied up in some looped ponytail to keep it from her face. A smattering of freckles covers her entire body, and sometimes the thinnest lines of paint connect them from Tuela connecting her own dots.
Personality: This girl, at her core, is a soft, gentle soul.
Her terrifying start at life has helped to temper out her personality. A rough, early start at Nabol helped Tuela to learn the important things in life--family, friends, waking up to see the sun rise again. Every day is lived to the fullest extent that Tuelarua can. She throws herself into working hard so that she may earn marks to fuel her hobby and passion. In the face of a hard world, she stayed soft and kind. Living in High Reaches Hold, she often sees other refugees filtering in from Nabol. Tuelarua could never pass by someone struggling without helping in some manner--offering fruit in her hands, helping them move something, or simply sit by someone’s side as the feeling of freedom set in. Yet despite her willingness to help other Nabol refugees, a fear runs deep in her. While her memories are fuzzy, she does have a scare of being forced back to Nabol Hold. Her own bleak memories as well as the slight changes she sometimes saw in her father--the new scars, missing eye, when his laugh dwindled, or when the light sometimes didn’t reach his eyes like it used to--made her terrified to be taken back. Yet her tenderhearted nature tries to override this fear, wanting to help those in need.
Creativity runs through her in spades. Turns spent honing in on her self-taught painting skills have helped her see the world in a new light. Tuela looks at the world around her in a romantic light, seeing what might be beyond just the skyline, or a smattering of trees. A healthy imagination gives way to the possibility of painting what cannot be directly copied. Yet it does take it’s toll on her. Mental gymnastics with an overactive imagination sometimes lead the way to a soft tiredness, as if she’s spent too much energy on mental tasks like she would physical ones. It never stops her from doing what needs done, yet it does give her a perpetually soft, dreamy look to her eyes. Sometimes this overactive imagination gives way to feeding on her fears of being taken back to Nabol, and sleep doesn’t come easy when the shadows hide her terrors.
When meeting someone new, she can be a tad slow to trust. While Tuelarua is friendly and sweet to those that approach her, actually getting to know her can take some time. Yet this soft, sweet painter may be worth the effort -- if one is willing to get to know her.
Positive Trait List: Tenderhearted, hard worker, lives every day to the fullest, creative Negative Trait List: Overactive Imagination, Fearful, Slow to trust
History: Early life for Tuelarua was never easy, even if the memories are a touch foggy for her now. She was born to a pair of miners--a gentle mother named Arua and a smiling, happy father named Luet--in the fringe of Nabol Hold. They slaved away in the mines, saving up any scrap of a mark that they could. Yet they feared for their daughter growing up in such an environment. They stashed and saved away marks until they could pay for a rider to transport Tuelarua and her mother. The massive brown ferried them away in the dead of night, taken safely to High Reaches Hold when she was just about to turn 11. Her father stayed behind while her mother made a life for them working on the docks. It wouldn’t be until Tuelarua was nearly 14 that her father finally saved enough marks, under the watchful eye after hi family escaped, that he would join them as well. He was missing an eye and had a myriad of scars all over his body that hadn’t been there before, but he was home.
With both of her parents home and making a good, well-earned living working on the docks, they released Tuelarua from her obligation of working with them if she so desired. While she kept her position, the marks she earned instead went into a hobby. She bought her first set of paints when she was 16, and began to teach herself how to paint. Now, when not working, she can be seen scuttling around the Hold to find some sight to paint.
Even the return of thread had inspired her--while she hadn’t seen true thread-fighting, she sketched what few dragons she had seen visiting the hold now and again with jaws wide, flame billowing from their mouths. A romanticized projection, yet it was one of her favorite pieces she has painted thus far. The chance to go to a Weyr and be able to see a dragon truly up close, to see them honestly fight thread--and perhaps a chance to Impress a dragon, herself? It can only be described as a dream, but one she thinks of fondly.
Name: Palouseth Age: Weyrling Hatchday: 3576.01.09 - Zenobiath x Aresoth - Maiden Flight Color: Green Size: 23’ Sexuality: ??? Voice Actor: Significant Other: --
Physical Attributes: Palouseth is a well proportioned Green. She has a tall, lanky elegance about her, complete with long legs, broad barrel, and an elegant neck. Her face has a bit of a flatter nose-bridge, and her headknobs are a bit short, but she seems to be rather content with this. Her tail is mid-length, and very whiplike. This female's eyes will frequently be found whirling blue with contentment, and it is rare day indeed when they completely wash out into other, warmer colors. Her wings are large, in comparison to her body, making her maneuvering a bit easier in the air.
Personality: One thing you can be sure of is that Palouseth is almost unflappable. Even in the face of new and dangerous situations, this green seems to have a rather steady and calm approach to everything. Nothing really spooks her, or drives her to fear. Rather, she tries to analyze the situation just enough to make sure her Rider stays safe. All the same, she can be a bit too passive about things. She tends to avoid confrontation, or getting angry, and if her Rider isn't careful, this Green will be a bit of a doormat. Everything's alright by her, and it's difficult for her to get any kind of worked up about anything. She tends to be as even-keel as they come, even when something is terribly upsetting to everyone else.
She will never let Hers down, no matter what. After all, they are one of a kind, and her bond to them is the most important! She will be an asset to any Wing, duty-bound and happy to follow orders. It's not hard to teach this Green new things, as she seems to love being able to please. However, Palouseth won't take on anything without an order or some direction. She's incredibly passive, and prefers letting others tell her which way to go, and how to go about things. Even her own emotions will remain passive, never too high or low, just content to be as it is.
Palouseth is extremely bright, and often will pick up on new orders and tricks within Weyrling lessons, or wing drills, with little to no trouble. She likes to learn, especially in the context of training, and will happily follow instruction and do her best to get it perfect the first time. The little Green has a natural tendency to hide behind whoever's in charge, which mostly tends to be Hers, and not really press forward of her own volition. She won't actively seek out the company of others, tending to bond specifically to Hers, but she doesn't mind the company if it's there. Naturally, she's a bit shyer, and takes longer to talk to others, since she gets a bit anxious if she's encouraged to engage, even when she wants to.
The biggest problem that her Rider will face with this Green is the fact that she will always throw herself headlong in to work. If you ask her to do something, Palouseth will do it with out any question, and keep going until she's stopped. She wants so badly to please Hers, and to work, that she will often disregard her own well-being. Strained wings, broken nails, anything, all are easily forgotten in favor of what she's been asked. Her Rider might have to curb this early, since it will only grow as a drive as the Green gets older, especially as an adult in a Wing.
Additional Notes: Palouseth is a green who is rarely passionate about flights or particular about who catches her. It's not that she can't form passionate or strong relationships, she just tends to go so much with the flow of things, that it would take quite a spectacular dragon indeed to stand out among the crowd. Until she finds this amazing one (if she ever finds him or or her at all) Palouseth is more than happy to simply let fate dictate a winner, as opposed to choosing herself.
Impression Effect: Never again will Tuelarua ever have night terrors. She will be blessed with wonderful sleep, and dreams that are nearly always pleasant. As such, she will be endowed with an extra burst of energy upon waking, for Palouseth shall shield and guard her nights. +10 to stamina.
Written by MaraRune Colored by MaraRune
Origin of Name: Originally, the Appaloosa were named for the Palouse river by which the original people who bred them. It was from this name that, over time, the Appaloosa name came to be. Palouseth's name is derived from that same river.
Inspiration: Appaloosa
The Appaloosa is an American horse breed best known for its colorful spotted coat pattern. There is a wide range of body types within the breed, stemming from the influence of multiple breeds of horses throughout its history. Each horse's color pattern is genetically the result of various spotting patterns overlaid on top of one of several recognized base coat colors.
Artwork depicting prehistoric horses with leopard spotting exists in prehistoric cave paintings in Europe. Images of domesticated horses with leopard spotting patterns appeared in artwork from Ancient Greece and Han dynasty China through the early modern period. In North America, the Nez Perce people of what today is the United States Pacific Northwest developed the original American breed. Settlers once referred to these spotted horses as the "Palouse horse", possibly after the Palouse River, which ran through the heart of Nez Perce country. Gradually, the name evolved into "Appaloosa".
The Nez Perce lost most of their horses after the Nez Perce War in 1877, and the breed fell into decline for several decades. A small number of dedicated breeders preserved the Appaloosa as a distinct breed until the Appaloosa Horse Club (ApHC) was formed as the breed registry in 1938. The modern breed maintains bloodlines tracing to the foundation bloodstock of the registry; its partially open stud book allows the addition of some Thoroughbred, American Quarter Horse and Arabian blood.
Gingerbread Egg: A large egg.
Why Me? Gentle Tuelarua, it is your kind soul that shone brightly to Palouseth as she searched among the Candidates for her one true rider. As unflappable as she might be, Palouseth is nevertheless shy, and tends to put others before herself. They are both hardworkers, and will no doubt shine in Weyrling training. Those fears and sorrows will be soothed away by the most pure love that anyone might ever hope to know. Tuelarua will offer Palouseth her creativity, which will in turn be matched by Palouseth's intelligence. Neither will ever need fear being alone... ever again.
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Posted: Sat Jun 27, 2020 8:52 pm
Name: Bisera Age: 47 Nameday: 3529.06.02 Sex: Female Sexual Orientation: Handwave??? Good Luck lmao Weyr: Traveller (Aligned to Western Weyr) Rider Rank: Mercenary Previous Rank/Craft: Assassin (Dancer/Escort) Voice Actor:[x] - Yennefer of Vengerberg, Netflix's The Witcher Significant Other: Unnie, of Brown Lunulath (demon_pachabel)
Physical Description: Standing on the shorter side, an inch shy of a standard 5’, Bisera doesn’t quite put off an intimidating air -- and it’s one that she uses to her advantage. Bisera’s frame is quite slim and thin, with athletic muscle that doesn’t give too much defining shape. Yet her hips are a bit shapely, and her curves are still padded enough that she can use them to her advantage. With a sweet, heart-shaped face and wide, pale blue eyes, she can play up the sweet, innocent look quite well. Yet for as wide and innocent her eyes look, she’s always got some form of mask up--good luck trying to see behind it. Her hair is a dusky shade, some muddled color between grey and brown in the daylight that with a bit of fussing can shine like starlight. The gently curling locks are kept in a long undercut, with the sides shaved close to her skull. The rest of her hair is in layered lengths reaching down to her waist, making times when she needs to dress herself up nice for a job easier to style it--yet also hide it up in a bun into a riding helmet. A tattoo runs down the length of Bisera’s left to her knee, a pair of crescent moons that bloom into paisley curls and tears as it drips down to the end.
In terms of dressing, Bisera goes for more darker shades. While she’ll wear looser, fetching style of clothing for being on someone’s arm for a night, her personal choice in clothing is a bit tighter. Darker shades of black and deep gold to match Hers, with small splashes of white and silver.
Personality: Bisera is a woman of many masks. Growing up as she and her twin were sent to courtesan hall to learn, she learned quickly to hide just who she was from anyone--a mask for work, for the friends and people around her, and even a mask for even her own sister. They slip and exchange one for another with ease if need be, depending on what they may come upon.
Bisera is a gruff woman as soon as some of the masks begin to slip free. Gone is the sweet and innocent escort, removed is the quiet, poised dancer. At her core, Bisera is a guarded, calculating woman. Bisera’s upbringing has led for her to carry multiple masks, and the true self hidden away. It is not too much of a challenge to befriend her, but to get close to Bisera? That is the true challenge. To get close is to have a weakness, a possibility to be hurt once again--so she has not allowed many to get into that small, coveted selection.
Her training as an assassin has allowed for her emotions to be a bit compartmentalized. For what good is an emotional killer? Combine this with how prickly and bitey Bisera can be, and it certainly perpetuates rumors and thinking that she has no empathy--and perhaps that Adenuith chose wrong. Yet that couldn’t be further from the truth. Deep into the sharp exterior lies a heart of gold. She isn’t just some trained killer for hire, with a flash of a mark she’d willingly do anything. Rather, she’s quite picky about jobs--only if someone really needs to die, or if someone just needs a talk. It tends to give a cynical point, and to a point it is true. For there are jobs she’s taken purely for the marks, yet there are others she takes or declines purely for the root of the matter. Compassion goes into her decisions to take a job or not, even if it may not seem so. It also leads to taking in stray, unaffiliated riders and folk--even if she snarks about making sure everyone carries their own weight, none are turned away unless they prove problematic. A spare bedroll and a close spot to where Adenuith prefers her cuddle pile to keep warm are always provided.
Those who are in her care--not just in her inner circle--will have a willful woman watching over them. Bisera has so few left in her life that she is quite protective of those who get into her good graces. While Bisera is not the best at expressing it openly, in private someone may find that she has her small ways. A caress of knuckles, a smile with less mockery and more genuine feeling.There’s love down in her ooey-gooey heart, even if few know where to find it. Especially her faire that Adenuith keeps as company, for Bisera will often take smaller portions for meals to make sure there’s enough food to go around if rations are starting to look thinner. Steps are measured, and with a band in tow, she needs to be cautious about their movements, about their food--whole livelihoods. Guilt has lead her to making her own sorts, though it started as just a small collective. Jacira no longer wanting anything to do with her, and her family at home gone to thread, she began collecting in strays to look after in her own way. This is her family, after she “lost” her last remaining family member. She’ll protect them no matter what.
Positive Trait List Adaptive, Compassionate, Protective, Altruistic Negative Trait List Guarded, Guilted, Sharp-tongued, Cynical
History: In the crisp early summer morning, a pair of twins was born to a trio of parents. Bisera and her twin sister Jacira were the proud product to their two mothers--Jisin and Iraba, and their father Basi. Though two had been a surprise, they grew up loved and never wanting for anything--though with the bolstered ego of being the loving product of two stunning courtesans and a lovely harper. They grew up as thick as thieves, being the only product of their parents and the darlings of their family. Where there was one, the other was not far behind.
At a tender age, Bisera and Jacira were sent to courtesan hall to learn, taking to apprenticeship at 11. They took to the craft like fish to water, yet Bisera attracted another eye. Her ability to slip into masks, to hide away earnest feeling caught her teachers eyes--especially when she approached her mid to later teen years. For she was a kind child, yet her detachment to the moment led to her one day being detoured away from a class to interview in a quieter room. Less inviting, more secretive. She was tapped into learning the ways to be an assassin. Her eyes always remained quite wide, innocent, naive; as her body grew into more gentle curves and cleavage to use as a distraction.
Yet it came with the caveat; secrecy included silence on all aspects of her life--including Jacira.
It was the start of a downfall, for it wasn’t long before Jacira noticed Bisera’s absences. It began a long road of discord between the two, as Bisera had to hide her true course of studies from her one confidant in life. Yet as they grew into their professions, the divide only grew.
Bisera found it quite easy to compartmentalize her new profession and her life in two separate categories. At the age of twenty, her first mark died quietly of poison in his wine after Bisera had been on his arm with eyelashes fluttering sweetly all evening. What horrors that could have followed from taking another life were stashed away, for what was different about her killing a life for a beast butchered for being a nuisance? It equated out in her mind, and helped her to sleep at night--long after she walked the tables and into more contracts.
When Bisera was 21, she had taken an escort job to grow closer to a skeezy fifth-off in line to head a minor cothold. A clutch had been laid at Igen Weyr, so she would be his escort for seeing such an interesting and unusual event. The hatching, despite the rather barebones and harsh environment, went without much of a hitch. Until an egg near exploded, shell shrapnel went skittering across the hot sands as the little golden queen shrieked her entrance to the world. Her hide was deep gold, attracting the attention of the gathered female candidates for such a high-spirited queen. Even Bisera sat up a bit from where she was, curious and feeling oddly pulled by such a display. Yet the lady had no interest in the quivering candidates gathered before her. She knocked them out of the way with ease before the rest followed suit, her gaze instead scanning the crowd angrily.
Why in Pern’s name are you up there? The voice is nothing short of a barking order, and less of a question. Bisera found herself rising as those red whirling eyes found hers, staggering her way down the stands as she couldn’t break eye contact with the demanding dragon baby. Up there. Not down here. With me. Why.
The pressure, the newly forged link between them, had Bisera reeling a moment, and she found herself momentarily panicked. Here was this perfect little dragon, looking the world impatient with her--but at her. Claiming her as Hers. But the blood on her hands is thick, and Bisera swallows thickly as she stared at the little creature in front of her--when had she reached the sands? “You deserve someone more pure -- surely one of these girls would be better suited.”
The queen, anger and fear swirling in her eyes, popped up onto her backlegs and roared into Bisera’s unflinching face. Did your Adeniuth stutter?! You are Mine, as I am Yours. It matters not what you did, only that we are together now. The anger bled out into the impression rainbows, yet the fearful white still edged around her eyes. Her tone had lost it’s rage, softening into almost pleading as she feared the rejection.
Bisera gathered Adeniuth into her arms, holding her tight. For they were One.
Yet for their start at Igen Weyr, they would not stay there. Western would claim the clutch, and the newly settled pair found themselves taking strides through weyrlinghood head on. Even with a rocky start, Bisera and Adeniuth grew close to one another. The young woman felt more certain her queen had not picked wrong. But once time came for graduation, restlessness was swapped for lessons and classes. With a drive to do something, they made to leave Western Weyr. Yet, with the foresight of Adeniuth’s ability to clutch in mind, they vowed their loyalty to Western--for the sands were hot, and there would be no shortage of candidates. It gave them a safe haven to return to, and Bisera was loathe to admit that she viewed Western Weyr as her new home.
She made several attempts to visit her sister, though each time she was left for want. Shut down, Bisera’s attempts to visit Jacira became more scattered until she finally stopped trying to visit.
As Bisera made to go back to her profession, taking on jobs where she could--her morality began to change. Where she used to take on any case that she could, she shifted more to take a job here or there. Was there a good reason someone wanted her to deal with someone? Morality was an odd shift, though welcome with such a change in life. Life on the road became more complicated, however, when Adeniuth began to collect people and dragons--turning a solo act into a travelling band of companions, with people always coming and going.
It was on one of her return trips to Western Weyr that someone caught her eye -- a brownrider by the name of Unnie. She had her own machinations to take care of, but the distinct redhead always caught her eye whenever she breezed through. Yet it would be later on that the pair would meet again--fully fledged riders on the open road. With safety in numbers, Bisera invited the pair into their group and have been (travelling) together ever since.
With the return of thread, their group has vastly diminished. Dragons returning to Weyrs to fight thread, and neither Bisera or Adeniuth could fault them for it. Word came from Bisera’s home that all three of her parents had not survived thread, lives gone to the old enemy’s return. But the complicated feelings that brought about were placed in a box, one that Bisera has yet to open and deal with. Yet they continue on their path, until the call to fly has them circling closer to Western.
Name: Adeniuth Age: 26 Hatchday: 3549.07.20 - Hemaronth x Gionth Color: Gold Size: 50' Sexuality: Favored Flavor Voice Actor:[x] - Saphira, Eragon Significant Other: Brown Lunulath, of Unnie (demon_pachabel)
Physical Description: The flower that blooms from adversity is the loveliest, and certainly that is quite true about Adeniuth. She is a lovely, darker gold. For her fierce start to life in the hostile Igen climate to growing into the dragon she is today on the Western coast, Adeniuth holds herself properly. She is finely built, well toned and groomed. Wide wings that she drapes over dragons in her care. Her front legs are longer than her stronger backlegs. Yet she’s a bit thinner around the middle, if for having to sometimes share the meal wealth. Adeniuth knows she needs to take immaculate care of herself--not only for her own survival, but to give her future children the best chance at life.
Personality: This dragon is not opposed to doing what it takes to getting a job done--no matter the hurt feelings. If there’s a direct way to get things done, she will do so. It makes her admirable of those who do it, though she also sometimes gets mystified with her rider’s slow dance to get a job done. A sharp word may hurt someone’s feelings, but if it keeps her group safe, she can amend for it later. Yet she is not a harsh dragon at heart, just rather blunt and up front about her views, even if they aren’t the kindest.
Adeniuth is a collector of sorts--to an almost covetous degree. What’s hers is Hers--no matter if they may stray. Her rider was hers, and never would she allow Bisera to dissuade her to have another, less worthy. The very same, though to a lesser degree, applies to the humans and dragons that cross their path and float in and out of their inner circle of a travelling group. Even dragons or people that they have not seen for a while, have moved on and found mates, Adeniuth will forever have a small stamp and call them hers. It’s not to a overly possessive degree, where she will even be happy for them to find happiness. Yet she cannot quite help claiming what she can in some small way--for a dragon who has little to claim anything she may to call her own. She will always welcome anyone into her arms, even if it may take a while to get from an acquaintance to a trusted friend.
One trait that runs deep in Adeniuth that she shares with her dearest rider is that affection is a fickle beast. She shows it in odd ways, like an oddly-tossed compliment, or a jab at doing something a bit better. It leads to believe that she isn’t that motherly of a queen dragon. No doubt that she’s been overheard now and again as she gets nesty at Western that she ought to have Bisera charge Western for each egg that graces their sands. But it’s all talk--for she loves her children, her golden and green sisters at Western and would never be so earnestly crass. Though she may have cracked on Igen sands, she considers herself Western-born.
Yet for as odd of ways as Adeniuth is at speaking her affection, she tends to be more physical in her expressions. Cuddles are her favorite, as much as she enjoys lounging in a puddle of other dragons--whether to sleep or soak in the afternoon sun.
Clutch History
3553.03.17 Adeniuth x Tariloth - Maiden Flight 25 Eggs 0 gold / 4 bronzes / 3 browns / 8 blues / 10 greens ??? & bronze ??? :: ??? :: Deceased ??? & blue ??? :: ??? :: Deceased ??? & green ??? :: ??? :: Deceased ??? & green ??? :: ??? :: Deceased
3558.01.13 Adeniuth x Sorath 23 Eggs 1 gold / 1 bronzes / 2 browns / 8 blues / 11 greens ??? & bronze ??? :: ??? :: Deceased ??? & brown ??? :: ??? :: Deceased ??? & blue ??? :: ??? :: Deceased ??? & green ??? :: ??? :: Deceased ??? & green ??? :: ??? :: Deceased
3561.04.23 Adeniuth x Caiprith (brown) 18 Eggs 0 gold / 1 bronze / 3 browns / 6 blues / 8 greens Tsuyat & bronze Yudueth :: Western Weyr :: Hattaki ??? & green ??? :: ??? :: Deceased ??? & green ??? :: ??? :: Deceased
3565.08.08 Adeniuth x Jibasth (brown) 23 Eggs 1 gold / 2 bronzes / 3 browns / 7 blues / 9 greens / 1 white L'rua and blue Invenirth :: Western Weyr :: Prism Shine ??? & blue ??? :: ??? :: Deceased ??? & blue ??? :: ??? :: Deceased ??? & white ??? :: ??? :: Deceased
3573.02.19 Adeniuth x Lunulath (brown) 23 Eggs 0 gold / 3 bronzes / 5 browns / 6 blues / 7 greens / 2 whites ??? & brown ??? :: ??? :: Deceased ??? & blue ??? :: ??? :: Deceased ??? & blue ??? :: ??? :: Deceased ??? & green ??? :: ??? :: Deceased
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Posted: Sat Jun 27, 2020 9:22 pm
Name: Cortun Age:3839 40 Nameday: 3536.08.12 Sex: Male Sexual Orientation: Shrug Weyr: Western Weyr Rider Rank: Wingleader of Star’s Flame Previous Rank/Craft: Wingrider, Shopkeeper Voice Actor: Significant Other: Xela, of Green Cubath (demon_pachabel)
Physical Description: At at average height, Cortun doesn’t stand out much. A coppery tan on a vaguely angular face. His hair is a wild array of near untamable locks, thick and gingery that hang past his shoulders. Bangs fringe into his view, falling just over the bottom of his dark hickory eyes -- it’s a constant battle with swatting them out of his view, and only properly braided into his hair for threadfall. Even when contained up in a ponytail, his hair likes to star out in wild directions. Another face in the crowd, he does his best to stand out in other ways--his merit and personality where his regular face tends to blend in. His hands have minor burns here and there, nips from broken glass working at the storefront. His clothes are often stained with chalkdust, ink, graphite -- anything he can get his hands on when something strikes and he’s able to write it down. For this, some of the calluses in his hands seem permanently stained black--for whenever he can scrub them nearly clean, they’re only dirtied once more.
Personality: At an early age, he was an early riser--shops open bright and early to take advantage of every second, after all, and he takes every advantage of all hours of the day since then. He sees things in a more calculating way, of how to get the most efficiency out of a task or job. Yet from the time Cortun’s eyes snap open in the morning to when they stubbornly drift shut in the late hours of the evening, his mind is in a constant state of work. Restlessness runs deep in Cortun, his mind fidgeting with concepts and ideas. It tumbles into the desire to sleep less, for would he have potentially more time to work if only he didn’t need rest? Yet the sirensong of bed, his eyelids, or the cradle of Menyherth’s forearms claims him to rest, so that he’s refreshed for the day. He’s no use to anyone if he’s sleep starved, after all. His never seem to be able to stop; gesturing as he talks, fidget with his sleeves, picking things off his clothes. However, once he’s in the air, all the restlessness bleeds away. He’s centered, calm -- and until he steps back onto the ground once more, the maelstrom is at bay.
His personal weyr is full of chalkboards and papers--a cluttered orchestrated chaos of a mess that only he seems to make sense of. From everything to wing patterns to charting his day off to be the most productive. It’s a downside to his drive is for his mind to wander if something is not particularly holding his attention--time for a scratch out and rewrite. His mind stays on task for his duties, mind. But his off duty is spent bouncing from task to task, covering himself in chalk dust again and again as he bounces between ideas and diagrams. Cortun tries to push himself to out-do himself--a lingering pressure on his mind that he needs to be the best he can be. Middle Child syndrome has certainly filled him with a harsh anxiety to constantly prove his worth.
In times when he gets lost, or there’s too much going on in his mind that not even Menyherth can make sense of, there’s an escape that Cortun goes back to. A chess set is usually set up on it’s own tiny table that he picks at both sides from; an activity that helps to calm and center himself. It goes back to growing up in his family’s shop, playing the long candlemarks away with his grandfather while learning how to think ahead of the game. His grandfather’s teachings stuck firm--do good onto the world, expect nothing in return. However, sometimes his tactics do not pan out for the best. He catches himself trying to find the quickest route to find a solution, for wouldn’t the quickest route be the best? Why not jump up an extra few pounds when working out? Start throwing his hat in for higher up wing positions immediately? Shouldn’t he tell someone if he had feelings outright? But seeing your work suddenly topple over from a rushed base-levelling versus doing the right steps to ensure the piece can sit properly after cooling. Yet instinct is hard to abjure, as can be witnessed by many crossed-out chalk boards before he can wash them clean again. It doesn’t stop the knee-jerk reactions while up in the air, however a calming presence in Menyherth’s fury at thread helps to stay a wild move or call while in formation.
Taking that to heart, he puts himself out to his fullest. It fuels his passion for Western, to which he owes everything. Western gave him the chance as, a middle child, to prove himself instead of being the oldest, reliable sibling or the star of a baby that his younger sibling is. He became a dragonrider, the first in his family to ever do anything. But above all else, Western gave him Menyherth. Combined with his dragon’s fiery passion, Cortun will always support his home. This passion bled into his fellow werylings, and eventually into his wingriders. They became his family-in-arms against thread, and for anyone who would ever want or need it, they would find a familial warmth in Cortun.
Positive Trait List Industrious, Passionate, Tacticial Negative Trait List Anxious, Expedient, Restless
History: The middle child of three, he tended to be on the more forgotten side of his family of artists from Rivercrest Hold. Not the eldest or the baby, his grandfather took the lost child under his wing--oftentimes having him help out with the storefront when his father and eldest brother were working on newest glass products to sell. Yet whenever he and his grandfather were without work to do, they often played on a pretty little chessboard. The wisened member of the family taught him the ways to approach life--to do the best for others, even without expecting much from them in return. It strengthened Cortun into a model citizen, even if his siblings called him boring.
Yet when his older brother was searched, everything changed for Cortun. Literally.
They arrived at Western to watch him stand in front of a large clutch, yet destiny would not pick the eldest for once. It was a smaller egg that had been smashed open by the weight of another falling on top of another. The little white came into the world screaming, disgruntled and unhappy with all the candidates around them. The only time on the sands that they weren’t utterly cranky was the arrival of a golden sister, who had those bright facets captivated until she had impressed. Only then did they turn their attention to not the candidates but the stands--and picked Cortun out of the crowd.
The mocking voice in Cortun’s head nearly had him rocked off his axis. Because why was he up there, when Menyherth needed him down with him? They had much to do, after all.
Cortun had never run so fast in his life, for at the age of seventeen, he became a rider--and the first in his family at something.
The pair worked in equal cohesion, striving to excel at lessons. The only distraction during lessons came in the form of Neliath, for Menyherth there was only the glimmering hide of his beloved sister. The world could melt away -- and eventually, it would.
Thread came back to the planet with a vengeance, and both Cortun and Menyherth rose to meet it eagerly. Menyherth’s sleek form made it easy to slip and streak to catch the stray clumps that even agile greens sometimes missed--and even bodyblocked a shot to save a wingmate. Yet their sights were set on rising through the ranks. Shortened stamina of a white be damned--with good ‘seconds, they were determined to prove themselves able to stand among Western’s best at the helm to protect Pern.
Physical Description: Capping out at max size, Menyherth is a built dragon. At hatching, his size was nothing to take note -- but give a decade or two of dedicated work outs, muscle tone developed. He works and strives to be the best he can be, working out so that he can last even an extra few precious seconds in the air with thread having returned. Long legs and a sleek neck give them an added bit of height -- for he takes every little smidgen he can stake claim to.
Personality: Pern is not prepared for this dragon -- or so Menyherth has believed ever since he emerged onto the sands all those turns ago. Size and stamina be damned, he’ll live until the last moment proving that his mark on Pern will be everlasting. Western is his home, where they’ll take his last breaths defending it against thread. Would it be, Menyherth would attempt to convince one that his blood is blue, not green -- patriotism runs deep and hard in this little white.
While Western is not the traditionalist hotspot that, say, High Reaches is, Menyherth is sensitive over his social standing. There’s a drive, a heavy pressure to rise to the top that they can. Yet it’s never quite enough. Dissatisfaction is a haunt over his shoulder, an impossible thing that bites to keep rising to the top. Getting a compliment during weyrlinghood from the master? Not enough. Having a successful fall and not being hurt? Not enough, someone else in their wing was. Wingleader? Well…
Menyherth is a near vainful white, yet he has the substance to try and back up every word. Since hatching, he strives to better himself -- building up to extra workouts so as to not diminish his limited stamina, and instead seek to increase what he can even by the tiniest of fractions. There’s no illusion in his mind he can ever hope to last a full fall with nothing short of killing himself, but it does not stop him from trying to work towards it. He has an eye for detail, one that lends itself well for threadfall -- equipped with a sharp mind and a lithe body.
