[Western] Bolstering the Ranks! Open!

[Dea and #Teddy#]

Dea and #Teddy#

Name: Edalla
Age: 31
Sex: Female
Sexual Orientation: Straight
Weyr: Western Weyr
Rider Rank: Wingrider
Previous Rank/Craft: Apprentice Runner Trainer
Physical Description: Edalla may not be super short, but she is still considered short standing at just five feet. She weighs about 102 lbs, the right amount of muscles in her legs and arms. She has copper red hair that when it is down, goes to mid way down her back. Her hair is in loose curls, that makes for beautiful waves of hair and her bangs are feathered to either side. Usually, she has her hair in a braided bun secured to the top of her head. She only has her hair down when she is at her weyr or someone convinces her to do so at a feast. Her eyes are a stunning sapphire blue color.
Personality: Growing up with mostly brothers, Edalla had to learn that she had to make things happen. It doesn't help that she is only five feet, so she is always determined to show height does not matter. She throws herself into everything she does, whether it is being the best she can in the air or knowing all she can to bring out the best in their Weyr. This is one woman who won't let her size or anything else stand in her way. If there is something she wants, you better believe that she will make it happen. Nothing and no one will get in her way. If she finds herself in a pickle, she will not give up until she makes her way out of it. This can sometimes come across as her being pushy, since she will not take no for an answer. If someone isn't going to listen to her, then she is going to make them listen. She will keep pressing until someone takes her seriously or does things the way she wants them to be done.

To that end, her determination has led to her being very resourceful, knowing how to think on her feet. She is always looking for new and better ways to do something, whether it is dealing with Thread or organizing her weyr. She loves being able to come up with ways to accomplish things with the materials she has on hand. It has come in handy plenty of times during Threadfall, such as when she has had to plug up a hole in her firestone bag or adjust her straps in mid flight. She always has more than one plan in mind, in case her original one fails. It also helps that she makes sure to be as knowledgeable about her environment and those who make up the world around her. She makes it a point to acquire information about everyone from their leaders down to the drudges. She also works on learning everything about every creature, plant, and craft that she comes in contact with. This woman believes that people never stop learning and you never know when it might come in handy. She will watch like a hawk when the healers are working on a fellow rider or as her wingleader is giving instructions on how they will handle thread that day. Then she takes all she learns and puts it into practice, when the need arises.

Having been looked down on for various reasons, Edalla tends to put on a very frigid front. She will stare someone down with just a look, until she gets them to back off. She isn't very open with her feelings in public, preferring to keep them hidden. It makes her seem very stiff and rigid, like she forgot how to have a good time. Her eyes tend to bore into people, making them feel like they are always being watched. She is someone who is very strict, she will not tolerate people not doing what they are supposed to. This is a woman who takes things very seriously, you better not be screwing around in her presence when you should be working. There are lives at stake and she isn't going to let anyone get away with not pulling their weight. She doesn't care what excuses you may give, when their leaders say something should be done, you better do it. If someone has time to be running their mouth, then she feels they have time to be oiling their dragon. Or someone just tried to pull a bone headed aerial move that could have killed another person, then she will make sure her their leaders provide a lecture.

Edalla is not a woman you want to cross, anger being an emotion she has no trouble expressing anywhere (though she does know when to curb it around her superiors). She has a temper that will knock you flat on your backside, so be wary about getting her upset. They say big things come in small packages and so it is with her in the case of her anger. This is a storm that will not relent until she has made you pay or you have seen the error in your ways. If someone so much as talks about her size or about her dragon, you better believe she is going to give them an earful. No one disrespects her and even less get away with doing so to Moilath. She will make life a living nightmare for anyone who even looks at her the wrong way. Though she may not resort to violence except when absolutely necessary, it doesn't mean that her temper is any less cutting. A person may find it better to be hit than whatever she comes up with for making someone sorry for ticking her off.

Those who can get through her walls and storms, will find that she really is a caring person. She wants the best for everyone, so that is part of the reason she is so hard on others. If someone isn't paying attention to what they are doing, they could wind up hurt or killed, she doesn't want that. She may have to fight for things she wants or needs, but she will do the same for those she cares about too. As much as her brothers may bug her sometimes, she loves them with everything she has. So some may see her as a vicious person, she is alright with it, if it keeps people safe. And around those she cares about, she can be light hearted, you just have to earn her softer side. She knows how to tease and laugh with those close to her, if people are willing to find a way into her heart. No where will you find that softness more than when she is with her dragon. Moilath is her heart and she would do just about anything for that gentle green of her's.
Positive Trait List Determined, Resourceful, Knowledgeable, Caring, playful
Negative Trait List Frigid, explosive temper, strict, pushy
History: Edalla is the second youngest child to a kitchen worker mother and a bronze rider father in Western Weyr. Since her parents have always been hard workers, Edalla was determined to make them proud. Even though she is the shortest of her family and gets teased by her older brothers, she knows her family is always there for her. She started out as any young child, trying to not be in the shadow of her older siblings, full of a playful spirit. Then when she was eight and decided that she wanted to be a trainer of runners, people laughed at her. Some joked that the runner would be training her, instead of the other way around. The little girl was hurt and with tears streaming down her face, headed home. She was even teased about that too, saying how she was a typical girl.

When she got home, she told her family what happened and they told her everything would be alright. Edalla still couldn't understand why people thought it was so funny about what she wanted to do. It was one thing for her brothers to tease her, she knew they wouldn't do it maliciously, that it was always with love. These others, they didn't know her and that made her tears finally turn into anger. She vowed to make those who laughed at her about what she wanted to do eat those words. If that is how people were going to be, then she would just learn to hide her emotions. With her family, she would be like the girl they knew, but others..she would make them work for it.

With determination lighting her way and her parents' blessings, young Edalla went to Keroon to become a runner trainer. Despite the teasing of others, she put everything she could into learning how to help make sure runners could be used for all sorts of tasks or for racing. It was something she enjoyed doing, it gave her a sense of purpose and it was wonderful for her. For her, it was something she could show she was good at, despite being on the shorter side. She continued her studies until she was fourteen and returned to Western Weyr to become a candidate. Like with her training runners, she found some people poking fun at her size, telling her to make sure a dragon doesn't step on her. She didn't let it show that it bothered her, but she knew she would have the last laugh.

It took two turns of her standing, but soon came the day that would change her life. There on the sands was a beautiful green, who looked so delicate and graceful. She felt the green would get a very special rider, she just knew it. However, she didn't have time to see where the green chose to go first, because she soon found a very angry dragon barreling towards where she was standing with some of the other candidates. She wasn't sure which candidate thought something wrong, but she soon found herself on the ground, having to protect her vital organs. That was when suddenly a gentle voice filled her head, asking her brother to please let go with his teeth and claws. With some help from their mother, the bronze finally relented and the green rushed to the young woman's side and nuzzled her, making sure she was still alive. As Edalla looked at the green, she saw the most gorgeous rainbow eyes she could imagine. She had seen impressions before, but she was not prepared for the sweet mind that soon connected to her own. It took healers coming to get her to remind her she had been hurt. Joined by her new green, she waited to be stitched up, refusing to pass out. No, she would not worry her precious green, not for anything.

The next few weeks were spent in the infirmary, on the mend from the hatchling attack. Thankfully, Moilath gave her company and a few people did bring her the homework from classes. The young woman still bears the scars from that day, but it was worth it in finding her dragon and making a few friends. The next turn found her pouring herself in her studies, she wouldn't let anyone laugh at her for being such easy prey for one of the babies dragons. She would learn everything she could to be the best rider she could and maybe make sure she was never caught unaware again. When they finally graduated, she gave all that determination to the wing she was assigned to. She stays in touch with the friends she made during Weyrling training.
Other: Nothing at the moment

DRAGON
Name: Moilath
Age: 15
Color: Green
Size: 26'
Physical Description: Moilath is a very delicate, her movements very precise. She has long features, which gives her a very elegant profile that gets her noticed. Her stamina may not be as great as others, but it is decent for those of her color. Where she really shines, however, is her dexterity and speed. She has no problems making sharp turns and making sure she isn't so easily caught.
Personality: Moilath is a gentle green, who will always have a kind word for anyone who crosses her path. If you ever need a spot to cry on, please feel free to use her soft hide. She will let anyone come to her who needs help, willing to give any advice she can. She doesn't care who you are, if you have troubles, she wants to aid you. However, she is usually hesitant on what she sees as interfering. So it is usually best to approach her if you need her, instead of the other way around. She tends to worry to her rider when she sees someone upset, until the woman relents and tells the person to come over to talk. Her uncertainty can also be seen in fighting thread, though she does so want to help everyone stay safe. It takes Edalla's assurance that she is doing a wonderful job, for the green to feel a little better about everything.

Moilath is an optimist, believing there is always a silver lining to every situation. She loves sharing her sunshine with others, showing them that the world isn't as bleak as it can seem. She also is very loyal and devoted, which is shown the most with her rider. She is always there to let her rider know that she is amazing, not to let anyone tell her differently. Anything the woman wants, the green is more than willing to do. She may be scared sometimes, but if her rider needs her, she will do what she can for her.

However, it also makes the green very lonely when her rider or those she cares about have to be away from her, even if for just a short bit. She will bombard Edalla's mind (or anyone close to her) with questions, making sure they are alright and to see how long they will be. If she can, she will always bring a dragon she is close to along or call them to her, just so she has someone to lean against. It can get a little grating, but those who know her, know to be ready for such things.
Dragon Art or Proof of Obtainment: (cute Toothless placeholder)  

[Prism Shine]

Prism Shine

Content Warning: History contains nongraphic genital mutilation

Name: Amrit
Age: 34
Sex: Male
Sexual Orientation: WELL………..
Weyr: Western Weyr
Rider Rank: Wingrider
Previous Rank/Craft: Harper Apprentice
Physical Description: Amrit looks anything but a stereotypical bronzerider. His stature is smaller, standing roughly 4’7”. His body is strong, yet you wouldn’t know it by a first glance. He has a pillowy body type due to lack of testosterone, that no matter the turns of vigorous exercise even before impressing to Chirakumath have ever eliminated. Despite his size and softness, he’s quite strong. For he has to be, yet his own resolve to be better than most take him at first glance has needled him to try to be better, constantly. He’s quite tan, a bronzen shade from all his work outside. His face is softer, a smudged blend of masculine and softer, almost feminine ones as well. A more defined chin with softer cheeks, thin eyebrows and not a single hair of beard growth to be seen. Deep matte black locks fall about to his ears, though he slicks it back against his head to stay out of soft, puppy-like green eyes help to cover his fine hairline. Large scars drag up his front, starting from below the belt line and ending somewhere by his collarbone from his youth--dragging marks from where he slid down the ging tree. Small, freckle-like scars line his body from the subsequent fall into the needlethorn bush after the slip from the tree. This incident has left Amrit scarred for life--growing without testosterone and unable to sire children. Likewise, his voice is on the upper range, and has always sung a beautiful soprano, even when his peers grew out of the range.

Personality: From a young age, Amrit has always lived and breathed adventure. The adventurous spirit has left him always seeking the next big adventure--whether it’s climbing the cliff sides and trees in his youth, or on the back of his colossal Chirakumath. He grew out of the spunk and spitfire of his youth after his accident. It turned him into a softer boy, though with that desire to go see the world still firmly planted.

To a fault, Amrit is kind. With such a big reality check on the value of his life leaving him bare to the world, it set the boy down a path of a humbler nature. With such low self confidence from his injury and taunting of his peers, he became quite diffident into his adult years. Shyness bleeds into his tendency to stay away from people. Life at a Weyr certainly doesn’t make a good mode to stay away, but while he stays around to fulfill his wing duties and whatever else may be needed of him--just don’t expect him to be overly social outside of those social requirements. When he is around people, though, one would never assume he’d rather be anywhere else. He is kind to a fault, rolling into his gentle, humble nature. Yet the man inside is shaking, nervous for the company or coming off odd. Past bullying left Amrit extremely sensitive, for even the littlest tease might leave the rider drying his tears into Chirakumath’s broad chest.

Somewhere inside the tender, nervous rider blooms a romantic soul, however. While he is not the conventional “man”, nor will he ever be in his own thinking (and Chirakumath’s protests), it doesn’t stop him from eagerly consuming romance novel after romance novel that feeds into the gentlest of dreams -- sweeping damsels off their feet, wooing gentlemen with the kindest words. Things he could never do, but dreams are sweet, aren’t they?

Positive Trait List Adventurous, Kind, Humble, Romantic
Negative Trait List Nervous, Diffident, Oversensitive, Reclusive

History: Amrit was born in the warm spring to a pair of loving parents in Ista Hold. He grew as any boy would; an adventurous spitfire, craving adventure. He grew up running around with a group of rather callous boys, always daring each other to wilder and wilder stunts. But one such day, Amrit had been dared to climb a ging tree while the needlethorn bushes were still fully needled. But he was young and stupid, and in the face of his friends--he couldn’t just back down. The youth climbed the tree, making it almost near the top before his footing slipped. His front skidded down the rough bark, tearing shirt and skin alike before he fell into the needlethorn bush below.

He wouldn’t be found until almost evening by a passerby, as his friends had left him for dead.

The local healer and surgeon did the best they could, but they could not restore Amrit to his natural state as he was before. Full of holes and healing wounds, between those and his emasculation, Amrit felt as if he’d been sucker punched by life. Perhaps he had, for it took him the better part of a turn to fully heal. His friends had abandoned him, turned their backs on the healing boy. Suddenly alone, feeling so incomplete as he healed, Amrit fell into a depression at such a tender age.

Yet it would be his mother’s doing that he found a better sense of purpose. He was introduced to the local harper journeyman, who took him under his wing. Amrit grew into a softer person--gone was the firecracker, and in was the warmth of a hearth. He learned to not just sing, but smile again. Singing became his escape, with a sweet soprano that never left him even as it broke in some of the harper’s other pupils.

The fall of his 14th turn, a searchrider appeared at the hold, for a golden queen had risen and they had need of candidates. Amrit had been picked out of the crowd--but so had his best friend, or former. Ziril, now older, stronger, more developed, sank his talons into the younger, softer boy. The months leading up to the hatching were brutal for Amrit, who in all his humble nature, never spoke up about the tormenting.

Yet came hatching day. The candidates scrambled into position, bowing deep to the mother and father. Amrit was excited, nervous to stand for his first hatching--if trying to avoid his former friend. Yet Ziril constantly moved in front of him, with a jeer of any dragon that thought that Amrit was worthy should see a real candidate first. Yet when a bronze hatched on the sands, large in size--everyone held their breath. First out, yet the large bronze would take until the near end to finally find his rider. The bronze--the sole bronze of the clutch--made all the boys puff up in pride. For they were worthy of such a bronze. The only glimmering hide of the bunch. They could align themselves in his patient attitude of waiting until his siblings hatched, agree as he turned to croon encouragement to every member of his growing family a good morning and a safe passage. He was every boy’s dream--yet as he approached Ziril, he stared up at the boy as he stuck his chest out a bit proudly.

Until the bronze sneezed quite purposefully, broadcasting to everyone around him to hear--

You’re in my way. Move.

Ziril, dumbfounded, scuttled out of the way as the bronze easily loped to stand in front of Amrit. There you are. I thought that dimwit would block my view of you all hatching, Mine, so I made him move. Your Chirakumath has no patience for those who would keep me from you.

Amrit, for his brief stint at Ista, would be known as A’rit, was utterly floored. For didn’t this perfect dragon want a better, actual man? Yet Chirakumath would want nothing to do with it--for His was His, even if Amrit needed to come to terms with it.

Weyrlinghood would fly by for the pair, and although Amrit worked on his self confidence, it was still lacking. Once fully graduated, they took to the skies to see what Pern had to offer. Yet they were ultimately drawn to Western for a fresher start--and Amrit dropped his abbreviated name. They would be waiting in the wings for when thread had returned, and meet it eagerly.

Other: Beware sharp objects, yo

DRAGON
Name: Chirakumath
Age: 19
Color: Bronze (Or Brown)
Size: 46’ (Or 42’ )
Physical Description: This dragon is certainly a specimen of his color. Clocking out at max size, Chirakumath is a very strong boy. A barrel chest and strong wings keep him up in the air with ease. His limbs are thicker and sturdier, which in his youth was troublesome. Yet once he’d reached his full size and stride, he found his grace. Chirakumath is a bit heavier round the middle, but it certainly doesn’t slow him down.

Personality: This boy is nothing but a damn flirt. Chirakumath sees all, and certainly enjoys all. Oh, a pretty green is rising? Oh, what a lovely gold sunning herself. Ladies are his true passion, for he will bend over backwards to impress any lady dragon that he sees. Well, whites may take some time to garner his attention--not for anything but Chirakumath just simply… not be able to tell right away if some lovely dragon is female or male. Oops. But he is all about the ladies. Really. He has no interest in males--certainly doesn’t admire a blue’s zippiness, or a sturdy brown’s wingspan, or a fellow bronze’s sheen. Certainly.

He’s not the smartest dragon, that is true. The notion of Big, Dumb Bronze seems made for him. Yet where that may offend a prouder king’s sensibilities, Chirakumath just can’t be bothered to care. So he’s dumb, oh well. He can still sear thread, still chase after rising females. The social ladder isn’t for him, though one might assume with how he spouts rather pathetic compliments or fetches a meal just so a pretty queen doesn’t have to dirty her talons with the catch.

His easy going manner carries over to his friends, for it’s certainly not hard to get along with Chirakumath. For the Istan easiness has leeched its way into his soul. Oh, new dragon to the Weyr? Why not show them the best spot on the beach where the warm air and cool water feel so completely balanced. A dragon’s not having a good day? He’s got a shoulder, or at the least nudges them up in the air to come fly and forget their problems.

When it comes to love, Chirakumath is a hard dragon to nail down. He is a romantic soul--no thanks to long evenings with his little pillow of a rider reading romance novels to him--, but he does adore everyone. It may also be hard in that he makes it no little secret how he adores hatchlings, and would love to have a clutch of them to call his own. Any dragon that may choose to call Chirakumath their own may have to contend with his desire to be a father. But should a gold take his fancy? He would chase no other. It’s a complicated matter for the otherwise dumb dragon, as he craves love but also family.

Dragon Art or Proof of Obtainment: ¯_(ツ)_/¯  

[stella cinere]

stella cinere

Name: Ga’bie
Age: 30
Sex: Male
Sexual Orientation: Homosexual
Weyr: Western Weyr
Rider Rank: Rider
Previous Rank/Craft: Courtesan Journeyman - Entertainer
Physical Description:

Ga'bie is slender, petite, and slightly shorter than average with blonde to almost white hair with a hint of soft curls to frame a doll like face that end at his chin. He has a pair of jewel blue like eyes, round like a doe with soft pink lips and cheeks to match. Particular to his figure he tends keeps himself rather lean while avoiding too much muscle to make him to masculine. He tends to lean towards softer fabrics such as lace or silk with elaborate leather boots that reach his knees with acceptable level of heel. He tends to lean more to white, black or pink colors with eccentric gold accents. While being a rider means spending more time in pants or leggings Ga'bie will add his own touches his clothes and prefer to wear dresses when the occasion allows him to.

Personality:

Center of the attention is where you can find Ga’bie, used to having the spotlight and having a few admirers and fans that wanted his attention whenever they could afford it or become a client of his. He can easily join in any conversation and doesn’t hold back from meeting strangers, and will immediately introduce himself others if he doesn’t know or hasn’t meant someone. This doesn’t mean he is always the most pleasant person to talk to but it doesn’t stop him from chatting or having a presences about him in a conversation. While he loves to talk whenever he can but not only can he be rather sarcastic at times but blunt and sharp tongued like a knife depending on the situation. He has no barriers in saying exactly how he feels and what is on his mind. If he doesn’t like you, you will know, if he thinks something his hideous then you will most certainly hear him. Even if you are down, heartbroken, things aren’t working in your favor he will tell you the fact-of-the matter and not dare to sugar coat it.

Ga’bie doesn’t have a lot of people he considers true friends (not fans or admirers from his courtesan days) but those he does make he cherishes and will go to the ends of the earth for. If someone insults, harms, etc Ga’bie will immediately come to the aid no questions asked and no reservations if who is in the right or in the wrong, all that matters to him is that he is there for them and no one has right to put them down for any reason. If you do something Ga’bie disagrees with, doesn’t like, doesn’t approve of it and so forth not only will you hear about it but he will do whatever he can to fight you on the matter. He has a bit of a quick temper and no issue going from cheerful to angry in a minute and will easily pick a fight if need be and rather passionate in his opinions about topics.

Attention to details, studying the wants and needs of a person, interaction with dragons, even the slightest indication in expression change, Ga’bie tends to observe on others. At one point it meant earning extra money from a client to avoiding being smacked across the face by his parents but now he simply uses as a conversation tactic. The same detail is put into his looks and appearance, having singed clothes, holes, dirt are all things he tries to avoid and while fighting thread tends to ruin his best intentions it doesn’t stop him from putting his best on.

Positive Trait List Loyal, Outgoing, Passionate
Negative Trait List Blunt, Stubborn, Vain
History:
Ga’bie was born to a large but rather poor family in Nabol, finding himself squeezed in between older and younger siblings and quite unimpressed by his parents in his younger years. His mother hated how pretty he looked despite being born a son, her jealousy was only fueled his father who hated the fact that he didn’t look like him in anyway. They found his only purpose to be some sort of stress relief when things were not going their way, if they felt bored with their day or simply needed something to abuse they would find him. Food was also scarce in general, either he as force to share what he had with the rest or they simply didn’t have anything to eat. Fortune smiled on day on them, or so the family thought when a man offered a few coins, some scrap money for booze and one less month to feed as Ga’bi was taken away to live the rest of his life in a brothel.

Despite initially not wanting to be there and trying to escape his new prison Ga'bie found it to be somewhat better than living at home and quickly adjusted to improve his own living situation to something of worth. It didn't take long for his small bit of fame to amount and he was quite popular, earning a bit of a reputation among a few of the riders. It worked in his benefit, he learned more about riders, weyrs and what was outside of Nabol while they enjoyed his company. Earning enough money he bought his passage to Western Hold, to the Courtesan Hall to learn more and while the owner of the brothel finally agreed with some sort of promise of him returning Ga’bie had no intention of returning. It wasn’t long after reaching Journeyman status that two riders appeared on a search for those with potential to become riders and facing thread, a way to escape the life he had entirely and go to something new and finally something of his own choice.

Becoming a candidate was rough at first, it was different training from a courtesan and even more so something he was less familiar but it didn’t stop Ga’bie from doing whatever he could to become a rider. A handful of impressions went by and he wasn’t fortunate enough and the window of eligibility slowly started to close as he faced his last chance on the sands. It was there he met Lilialeth, helping her out of her shell that she was trapped in as the rest of the candidates ignored her sweet plea.
Other: Anything else you want to add?

DRAGON
Name:Lilialeth
Age: 4 Turns
Color: White (Bronze maybe if unavailable, will adjust to fit better )
Size: 13.5’
Physical Description: A small and delicate white, Lilialeth is a picture of elegance in a white, large wings and slender neck and tail. Much like Ga’bie she tends to spoil herself in preening and keeping great care of her hide.
Personality: Much like Ga’bie Lilialeth is quite proud of her almost pure white to faint shimmer appearance, however unlike him she is frightfully shy and bears little self confidence in herself when it comes to other dragons and their riders. Despite being raised in the Western Weyr worries that due to being a white she won’t always be accepted or allowed to fit in with others due to the stigimated of being a white. Ga’bie luckily has enough confidence for them both and constantly gives her encouragement and does whatever he can to help her break out of her proverbial shell that she retreats to when she gets overwhelmed. The few friends she is able to make and open up to she adores, being a kind soul she always tries to encourage them and cheers for them even if in a quiet voice barely heard from the sidelines.

She likes pretty things and tends to collect things she finds that are white, such as shells and stones that she likes to stash away like a private treasure. Her favorite hobbies is getting preened and oiled by Ga’bie and singing when she thinks no one is around to hear her.
Dragon Art or Proof of Obtainment: ONE DAY, LIVING IN THE SUN, GIVE ME ONE DAY OUT THERE, ALL I ASK IS ONE TO HOLD FOREVER.  

[baby_gwing]

baby_gwing

Name: B’az
Age: 29
Sex: Male
Sexual Orientation: Bisexual
Weyr: Western Weyr
Rider Rank: Rider
Previous Rank/Craft: Healer
Physical Description: B’az has messy blond hair and cerulean blue eyes. He is slightly built and tends to keep to himself outside of any official business that requires him to interact with others.
Personality: Ever since his days as a healer, B’az has always been content with playing a supportive role. He did not see any need for himself to be in the limelight so long as he did his part so that others could achieve the goals that were set out for them. Although B’az has grown distant and moody since the tragedy that befell his mate Mel a year ago, his responsible and kind nature still drives him to do everything within his means for those around him though he remains stubborn in denying that he has a problem and that he needs to seek help for it when it comes to his own matters.
Positive Trait List Helpful, responsible, kind
Negative Trait List Distant, stubborn, moody
History: Life for B’az had always been smooth sailing. Coming from a family of healers, he was diligent in his studies and next in line to take over the family business when the surprise impression happened with Luminath tentatively approaching and then reaching out to him while he was on standby at the stands for healer duties. As fate would have it, B’az became fast friends with a spirited young lady Mel during his days as a young rider in training at the barracks. They spent much of their time together enjoying each other’s company but it was shortly after B’az proposed to her when tragedy struck during their first battle as full fledged riders against threadfall. Mel went out fighting with her bonded but they never came back. It could have been the thread that got them. Or perhaps they panicked when they went between and lost their way there. For an entire year B’az waited but there was no answer while he was reduced to a mere shadow of his former self.
Other: Nope


DRAGON
Name: Luminath
Age: 5
Color: White (alt bronze?)
Size: 17’
Physical Description: A medium-sized dragon with blue soulful eyes and white that shimmered akin to freshly fallen snow. She is quick, nimble and graceful in her every movement.
Personality: Luminath is a peace-loving dragon who enjoys nothing more than to follow B’az around and be his best little helper as he goes about his duties. She is sweet, sensitive and thoughtful. A true delight to have around though it frustrates her to no end seeing the slump that her bonded is currently going through as a result of his loss yet nothing she does seems to be getting through to him.
Dragon Art or Proof of Obtainment: NA  

[medigel]

medigel

Name: Zallea
Age: 25
Sex: Female
Sexual Orientation: Opportunitysexual
Weyr: Western Weyr
Rider Rank: Wingrider
Previous Rank/Craft: Pirate
Physical Description: 5'7". Round jawed, bright green eyes. A small button nose, lips that are often pursed with the upper lip colored darker. Metallic eye shadow. Black, somewhat frizzy hair that has been shaved into a mohawk. Piercings in her ears and septum, a necklace with a few pieces of Illyriath's shell about her neck. Toned arms and thighs, built a bit thicker. Probably sporting at least one bruise somewhere.
Personality: Zallea is...a personality. A stereotypical pirate who's proud to be a stereotype, she is stubborn, opinionated, and happy to take advantage of those in a better situation than she is. She never seems to run out of energy, but she's not always on "High": sometimes it's best to just kick back and drink, after all, and maybe talk a little s**t. Athletically built, she loves to workout and show off if someone is watching, even if it endangers her.

In spite of her background, she's happy to try playing the hero role out. Zallea enacts stories that she loves to embellish for any willing ear about her exploits, and she's eager to add to them while at Western. Though used to working in a group, she prefers to do her own thing separate to the majority when available, as it allows her to flex her resourceful mind and put the spotlight on her. "Meathead" is one way to describe her, though don't let her catch you saying so, or she or her green might set themselves on you. She might do stupid things in the name of being cool, but that doesn't mean she is stupid, thanks.
Positive Trait List vivacious, hard working, creative
Negative Trait List Conniving, rebellious, attention-seeking
History: Born the b*****d daughter of a sea captain's widow, Zallea has always been working: to prove herself to absolutely anyone that so much as looked at her wrong, to support her mother and siblings, and to just not be bored while standing around and doing nothing. Her dad's old crew let her on when she was old enough to properly threaten to strangle them with a complex knot, and she lived a high seas life for many turns. It wasn't always fun and games, and more than once she did get captured by guards. It was in fact during one such march to the cells that a dragon stopped them to say she was a candidate.

It...didn't exactly stop them from incarcerating her for a few days anyway, but the call had been accepted with an over-enthusiastic, No yeah I totally want to do the dragon thing and not be stuck behind bars please thanks.

Any plans of eventually escaping Western were thrown out the window when her beautiful green broke out of her shell. Partners in crime, they managed to not completely fail out of graduating with the rest of their class and are now happily plotting their next great move.
Other: Probably looks like the Pern version of a punk rock woman. She and her green are eyeing windleader positions and might even go for a seat on the council if they ever got enough support, which, good luck with that.

DRAGON
Name: Illyriath (Named for Teuta of Illyria, one of the oldest recorded rulers to sanction piracy as a lawful act in defense of her state!)
Age: 7
Color: Green
Size: 28'
Physical Description: The largest a green can get, Illyriath is simultaneously a powerhouse and a speedster. Always one to keep herself in peak condition, it's not uncommon to see the green practicing maneuvers both taught and unorthodox, constantly pushing her limits to keep up with even the smaller browns and bronzes. Despite her size and fierceness, she can also turn a coquettish, batting eye, a feline in draconic hide. Her claws, appropriately for the metaphor, are particularly long.
Personality: Illyriath is your savior, your hero, your villain, your damsel in distress, as long as you are hers. Passionate is an understatement for the green who, though not always a loud presence, certainly has an aura about her that demands attention. Had she been a gold, she might have been a terror for Western Weyr; as it is, she is only a notably clever, creative green with aspirations beyond her usual station in Pern.

A rebel at heart, it's hard for Illyriath to take orders from anyone, sometimes even her rider. She has the utmost confidence in her tactics, her beliefs, and her gut instincts, and to call it into question is a stab at her pride she won't stand for. 1v1 her right now! Illyriath is a Thread fighting machine who only accepts the best for her company. She is colorblind and may sometimes nag browns and bronzes specifically to get a chance to put them in their place. (Which is of course under her command, if they have anything remotely worthy.)

Despite her fierce attitude, she loves greatly and is just as likely to play games as she is to pick fights. Sure, she might manipulate some of the more gullible dragons while doing so, but she knows best. And she's going to make sure all of West learns.
Dragon Art or Proof of Obtainment:
 

[Sweet Symmetry]

Sweet Symmetry

Edited 1/1: Dragon name changed from Aleyath to Sihrseth.

Name: Arkhesia
Age: 52
Sex: Female
Sexual Orientation: Heterosexual
Weyr: Western Weyr
Rider Rank: Wingrider
Previous Rank/Craft: JM Harper - Cartographer/Illustrator

Physical Description:
A petite woman, whose slender, 5’2 frame stands in a willowy testament to the effects of time on gracious beauty; Arkhesia is a lovely lady entering the summery Turns of middle age. There is a lean amount of muscle on long limbs, smattered by freckles and pale scars from her adventures across Pern. Long legs, combined with the gentle pace she sets more often than not, gives her gait a flowing quality.

Her heart-shaped face is framed by just-below-shoulder length waves of a soft, burnished copper, which have been threaded with silver over the Turns. Ark has a rather rounded nose, prone to burning and full of freckles, which spread across her rosy, dimpled cheeks. Her smile, enhanced by delicate, bow-shaped lips of pale pink, brings a sunny light to her face even in the coldest, darkest of times. She is quite fair-skinned. Large, round eyes are a deep blue, and little aging crinkles line the edges.

With a dress sense that leans towards the practical and mundane, Arkhesia doesn’t go out of her way to stand out. Sure, for Gathers or Feasts, she might find a nice blouse and a ruffled skirt, but she is a woman who dons her leathers with pride. Work- be it cataloguing flora in her spare time, or drilling for Fall- comes first, and for that the practical is more than sufficient. Her prized possession is a small green brooch, shaped like a dragon, gifted to her by her mother after her Impression. She carries it on her at all times, as a good luck charm.


Personality:
Not all appearances are deceiving, and such is the case of Arkhesia: she is a genuinely tender soul with a kind heart and a sunny disposition. She has a little bit of a genial grandmother look about her- as like to spring cookies on some unsuspecting passersby as to spring upon her dragon and prepare for Threadfall. Ark possesses that quintessential goodness that naturally endears her to others: she is absolutely no threat to anybody whatsoever, which is exactly the way she likes it.

Despite Turns of of maturity and experience, Arkhesia lives her life in the belief that people are naturally wholesome and good. Naive to her very core, she trusts everyone she meets. Woe befall those who do shatter that illusion! Not from her, for she would never dare speak or do anything badly against another; but Sihrseth won’t stand for it. Don’t hurt her rider. Don’t even think insulting things about her rider. Arkhesia is the kind of woman who depends on the kindness and goodness of others- for she cannot survive in a world where others do not treat her the way she treats them. It’s just unthinkable.

Ark is not a hapless, helpless little old lady though. She is used to living rugged, surviving on the land and making do with what little is available to her. For a few decades, she only had herself and Sihrseth for company, and loved almost every moment of it. Though she has a stable sense of self and a good amount of self-esteem, she can’t help but shake the feeling that people don’t quite understand her. Or maybe she doesn’t understand them? It’s just so complicated sometimes. Yes, being alone is much simpler- plants and maps don’t talk back, you see. Given the choice in conversation, she would rather sit back, drink tea, and listen or watch as others gossip or debate things. She’s the kind of woman who would rather let her actions speak for her. Ark also has many stories to share- but none that she will boast about; the same cannot be said for Sihrseth, who will embellish any tale, often pushing her rider to share their anecdotes with others.

She is a bright, vivacious lady with an endless curiosity in the world around her. She has spent many, many Turns charting Pern to the best of her abilities, and performing odd jobs in exchange for food and shelter when needed. She has a quiet, worldly air about her that gives her the appearance of being wise- which she is, for the most part. Drama and politics, she doesn’t understand all too well- but she has good problem-solving abilities, and is surprisingly resourceful. With a wellspring of life experiences to draw from, Arkhesia never struggles for a solution, even if she must turn on the quirky-creative in doing so.

Sweet, intuitive and compassionate, Arkhesia goes out of her way to help make a positive difference in someone’s day. Though she understands the need to feel emotion, she doesn’t like seeing others sad, and will attempt to help them to the best of her efforts. She is respectful of boundaries, and will not pry, but is more than happy to offer her ears if need be. For the most part, she makes sure not to stand out too much, to simply be a pillar others may lean on in times of need.

Despite her wanderlust and desire to see the world, Arkhesia dislikes being placed in danger, and internalises a great deal of fretting that she hides behind a mask of serenity. She has a great deal of nerves when it comes to Threadfall- even after so many Turns of being a rider. She is afraid of risking herself emotionally, too, and can seem a little distant- especially in matters of the heart. She is the type of woman to dip her toe into the water and decide that it’s just not worth the risk. Ark relies heavily on Sihrseth’s presence to soothe her fractious nerves, and for an extra dose of courage: she understands her duty to Pern- but it doesn’t make facing death an easier thing.


Positive Trait List Self-reliant - Tender-hearted - Sunny
Negative Trait List Naive - Worryguts - Passive

History:
Born in Southern Boll to Aerysa, a Journeyman weaver, and Telken, a blacksmith, Ark was a much beloved only-child due to complications following her birth. She had an idyllic childhood. She was quiet as a youngster, but not teased or ostracised. She had a few close friends and developed a love for her little world- especially plants. When she was old enough to apprentice, her parents gave her her leave to choose something of her own desire- there was no pressure to follow in their footsteps.

Her handwriting and artistic skills drew the Harper’s eye, and she was encouraged to pursue the Harpercraft if she wanted to keep improving in her art. Arkhesia moved to Fort Harper Hall. It took her a few months to adjust to the total lifestyle change, and she acclimatised well to her more scribe-like duties. Once again, easy friendships were forged, though she found herself drawn to the charm of the natural world more so than the people who inhabited it. She walked the tables at eighteen, and received her first posting to a minor Hold in Fort territories, where she taught holdbrats and continued a personal project of cataloguing local flora.

Though approached by suitors, Arkhesia did not feel especially pressured to settle down. Her parents were happy with her choice and craft progress, and she considered taking a posting at Southern Boll to be closer to them. At age twenty-six, she was invited to attend a hatching at Ista Weyr by an aging Weyrwoman, who wanted her dragon’s supposedly last clutch immortalised in sketches. Ark was thrilled to oblige- it felt like a huge honour to be personally called upon by such an important lady.

Her life changed during this hatching, for as she sketched furiously, eyes dancing over the twelve eggs, a gentle, impatient mind poked her thoughts. That’s a nice doodle! Mind if I take a look? And suddenly, her lap was filled with a comically large dragon head, rainbow eyes staring up into her own blue. What? Is there a piece of eggshell on my face? Oh, I’m Sihrseth, by the way.

Ark reeled, as their two minds collided and bound themselves to each other. Nothing would ever be the same again. She hadn’t realised what had been missing from her life- until that moment, when Sihrseth filled every empty corner, pushing all of her secret dreams and desires to the forefront of her mind. There was a whole world out there, waiting to be seen! A whole sky to touch! There was so much for them to do! Oh, and it would be amazing!

So, from soft Harper to weyrling, to rider, Ark’s journeys with Sihrseth filled the pages of personal diaries. Some stories were recounted in letters to her parents, who were, at first, surprised to learn of her abrupt career change- then delighted, for who could be happier or prouder than parents seeing their child happy and fulfilled? The much beloved brooch was given and then guarded, still kept on Ark’s person to this day.

The pair flourished- Arkhesia coming into her own as an independent, strong-willed young woman, and Sihrseth learning how to manage authority and structure without losing her fierce individuality in the process. Sure, there was only a skeleton crew stationed at Igen, but the twelve months of weyrlinghood reinforced an idea of structure in their lives, and taught them the essentials of being dragon and rider together.

As soon as they were able to, they left the confines of the Weyr and ventured out across Pern. Ark wasn’t truly a Harper anymore- not officially, at any rate, but neither did they have a desire to tie themselves to the traditional High Reaches. The Southern continent was tempting, and they made some forays into the tropical jungles, using Monaco Bay as a base of operations. They made frequent returns to Southern Boll, so that Ark could visit her parents, and continued to travel, Sihrseth loving every moment of adventure, and Arkhesia taking her time to document her findings on the world around them.

In her mid-thirties, Aerysa and Telken proposed venturing westward and establishing a new cothold of their own, with a few other interested families. Having a dragonrider to help would make the whole project infinitely easier, and Ark could not refuse. Even Sihrseth revelled at the prospect of exploring a whole new continent- and that just sealed the deal for the young woman.

They spent a couple of Turns helping her parents with the logistics of establishing a cothold, offering protection in negotiations with those who might wish to encroach upon their small piece of land. Technically, they were beholden to Whitecliff Weyrhold- producing jewellery, fine clothing and ornate metal pieces- but were far enough removed from civilisation to feel truly alone and isolated. The greenpair used the cothold as yet another starting point in their adventures.

One such day brought a rain of silver on the horizon, and Sihrseth’s eyes turned red with savage anger. Ark recognised the devastating Thread from the Harper stories she had curated. They winked Between, returning to the cothold in the time it takes to cough thrice, and ordered everyone aboard. They fled to Western with the cotholds inhabitants, and a few of their most prized possessions, as Thread fell.

There was no more cothold after that. Thread had ruined it.

But Ark’s folks were alive- and the families that had come along were alive too- mostly extended family members, and some more adventuresome crafters. She delivered them to Whitecliff, where they live to this day.

As for Ark and Sihrseth, well… with the return of Thread, they integrated Western Weyr and its fighting Wings, willing- or with some hesitation, in Ark’s case- to put their lives on the line to defend Pern.


Other: A keen eye for detail and an amazing hand for illustration spurred Ark to pursue cartography, amongst other things. She has a passion for illustrating books on Pernese plant-life. The pair’s weyr contains diaries and journals, both of their lives and research Ark has conducted.


DRAGON

Name: Sihrseth
Age: 26
Color: Green
Size: 26’

Physical Description:
A stocky creature, well-built, but with a penchant for speed and acrobatic tricks. Her head is a touch larger than average, with shorter headknobs that curl ever so slightly. Sihrseth is a force of nature, and quite restless to boot. She has a tendency to fidget and huff a little if required to sit still.

Personality:
Hot-headed, impetuous and entirely devoted to her and her rider’s desires, Sihrseth may, at first, seem quite unreliable and unruly. She needs a firm, guiding hand to put her in line with her fellow fighting dragons- and Ark is the right woman for the job. Her gentle scolding and soft warmth has a way of cutting through Sihrseth’s most passionate heat, reaching a logical, reasonable part deep inside that folds to her rider’s will. Sihrseth is passionate and excitable, yes, but she is not completely without reason. She respects those who earn her approval and loyalty- and nobody is more marvellous than her Arkhesia.

Though labelled rebellious and possibly even trouble-making, Sihrseth has a good heart and great devotion to her duty. She does not like tradition in any sense of the word- and believes herself perfectly equal to any other dragon, both in competence and power. Why should a Queen outrank her, just because she might clutch shiny little eggs? Why- has that Queen seen all of Pern? Has that Queen fought off evil furry creatures in the dead of night? Tricksy little things that tried to eat her rider? No. Exactly. That Queen can’t breathe fire. That bronze isn’t as fast. That blue only wished it was as good as her at aiming. Sihrseth isn’t conceited so much as surly and very independent. She can do anything she sets her mind to, all right?

She is a wily lover, and may struggle to settle on a single mate for a lifetime. She likes the spiciness of change and the temptation of ‘new’. Sihrseth is drawn to the more adventurous and bold, preferring a dragon who will match both her temper and wit. She can be sassy and blunt, but mostly she’s just headstrong, and takes a little bit of time adjusting to new company. Like her rider, she prefers very little company, content with Ark until she draws her last.

With a sweet, child-like passion for stories (especially heroic tales of adventure), Sihrseth is a creative, free-spirited kind of dragon who will very rarely settle down. She can be a little judgemental of her slower, more ponderous kin, but in her hearts she truly wants to see a united and safe Pern- where everyone is free to be who they really are, and not have to follow the path walked by others. She won’t speak harshly of them- at least, not to their faces. She might complain a little bit to Ark, but Sihrseth knows she has to toe the line. It’s the only way to save the world, right?

Dragon Art or Proof of Obtainment: Sihrseth is a distant shadow, racing through the skies.  

[Princess_Feylin]

Princess_Feylin

Name: Csinda
Age: 27
Sex: female
Sexual Orientation:
Weyr: Western Weyr
Rider Rank: wingrider
Previous Rank/Craft: weyrbrat
Physical Description: Csinda's height is not conspicuous, but after a lifetime in the Weyr her physique more closely resembles that of a well-muscled fourteen-turn-old boy than a nearly-thirty-turn-old woman. She is badly scarred by thread and has a pronounced limp on the ground as a result of a deep slash she received in an aerial collision during her first threadfall. Since it doesn't hinder her riding ability, she doesn't mind it much, and chooses instead to use it as an excuse to take indulgently long soaks in the baths. She keeps her dark hair less than half an inch long and her dark eyes seem to be narrowed in a perpetual squint against the suns, which gives her frequent smiles extra brilliance.
Personality:
Csinda is not fearless, but it would be hard to discern what sorts of things frighten her when you consider that she'll brave thread and public censure with the same determination. That's probably a good thing, considering she's a dragonrider with a mouth on her, and likely to see plenty of both over the course of her life. She will face any danger and run any risk, confident that things will work out in some way, even if it means that future-Csinda will have some difficulties.

Frankly, she doesn't give much thought to future-Csinda most of the time. Not when she gets drunk and has to go to morning workouts and drills hungover. Not when she gets drunk and does her best to goad people into brawls. Not when she gets drunk and takes on idiotic bets. Basically, not when she gets drunk, which is a more frequent occurrence than it should be. However, since Tijuth enjoys the second-hand buzz and lassitude that comes from Csinda's drunkenness, the dragon has never made any attempt to stop her rider's self-destructive alcoholism.

Even sober, Csinda has always liked a fight, but has never been one to bear a grudge. She's happy to share a drink with someone with whom she was trading blows minutes before, and will truly consider the matter over and done with. Her open-mind makes it easy for her to imagine others' points of view, and easy to get over disagreements and disappointments. People who hold grudges after a fight - especially a physical one - baffle her. She loves the days when her wing holds martial drills and combat training.
Positive Trait List: open-minded; brave; optimistic
Negative Trait List: bellicose; impetuous; alcoholic
History:
Born to a pair of lower caverns workers in Western and raised in the creche, Csinda had a typical childhood, though she definitely got into more fights than the average child, many of which were ill-considered. On the other hand, she somehow managed to avoid making too many enemies, as the fights she got into were more like out-of-hand wrestling matches or mock-battles than attempts to hurt or humiliate anyone. She went the entire turn before she was deemed old enough to be a candidate on her best behavior, and all the turns of her candidacy keeping out of fights and acting with a level of care and consideration which nearly drove her to distraction. It was a good thing she Impressed Tijuth when she did, because she was nearly ready to burst with the effort of containing herself all the time.

Tijuth was slow to Impress, returning again and again to examine a quartet of candidates until the pressure became too much for her and she looked away in distress. Then her anxious yellow gaze fell on Csinda and she knew that she hadn't been able to choose between the other four because none of them were Csinda.

They had a rough time as weyrlings and spent their first half-turn on a wing on semi-probation. Not so much because of Csinda's reckless behavior, but because it was hard even for their instructors to gauge how well they (well, Tijuth) truly understood the material, and how ready they were to be on a wing. Eventually they proved themselves and were taken off probation and the routine of training and drilling was fine for them.

When thread began to fall for real, things were less fine. Tijuth was not mentally prepared, despite her genetic urge to destroy thread, and her panic got both of them injured when she collided with another dragon and their mutual flailing drew enough blood that Tijuth was grounded, partly in punishment and partly because she'd absolutely taken the worst of it in their accidental tangle. The next time they flew, Tijuth's refusal to go between in order to avoid a potential recurrence of the last time meant they both got badly scored and spent yet another long stretch recovering.

Funnily enough, Csinda started drinking long before that, but only socially. It was already a bit more than that a few turns before thread began to fall again, but they didn't notice any problems.
Other: Csinda's going to need to deal with her drinking problem, but right now she doesn't see it as a problem.

DRAGON
Name: Tijuth (taken from the Yoruba word for "shy," tiju)
Age: 14 turns
Color: green
Size: 24'
Physical Description: It is neither her size nor her conformation that make her stand out, but her extensive scarring due to a pair of unfortunate events during the earliest threadfalls wherein she was accidentally clawed when she messed up formation to avoid a clump of thread and emerged from between right next to another dragon and their wings got tangled. In the first threadfall after her recovery she was so afraid of repeating her mistake that she refused to go between at all and both she and her rider ended up severely scored.
Personality: Afraid to put herself forward in most situations, Tijuth is easily overlooked, which is fine by her. If no one notices her, no one will notice when she messes up. Which she absolutely will, because Tijuth's anxiety about making mistakes often causes her fears to become self-fulfilling prophecies. This makes her come across as fairly incompetent - another one of her fears - and forms a vicious cycle.

Tijuth is a very, very focused dragon. Focused to the point of fixation. She will agonize over decisions, constantly second-, third-, and seventy sixth-guessing herself until the moment has long passed or she simply throws caution to the wind and acts. When she does this, it's as if she hadn't just spent an age considering every possibility and angle of a situation, and instead threw herself into fortune's claws, certain that whatever decision she made would be the wrong one anyway, so it's best left to chance.

The frustrating part of all this, at least for those who know Tijuth and care about her, is that the green is neither careless nor incompetent. She knows all of the regulations, all of the best practices, and everything else she ought to know, but her self-doubt cripples her when it comes to demonstrating her mastery. If she wasn't so very self-effacing, Tijuth might make a fine instructor, but her tendency to fixate to the exclusion of all else makes that an impossibility.

It isn't all nerves and insecurity in Tijuth's head, however. The green, though very quiet around just about everyone, has a wide streak of sarcasm and a gift for seeing the humor in situations not involving her own errors. She can actually find humor in her own peccadilloes, too, but it takes time for her to reach the point where such things become sources of entertainment rather than embarrassment. At any rate, anyone who happens to overhear the comments she can't quite keep to herself will find themselves in stitches.
Dragon Art or Proof of Obtainment: emotion_dowant  

[Tsunake]

Tsunake

Name: M’lus (formerly Malus)
Age: 70 Turns
Sex: Male
Sexual Orientation: ???
Weyr: Western Weyr
Rider Rank: Wingrider
Previous Rank/Craft: Mercenary
Physical Description: M’lus is a big man, though he certainly is not the tallest of men. His broad shoulders and barrel chest give him more than enough presence. He has a weathered face with a broken nose, large calloused hands, dark eyes, and dark hair that has turned red from being sunbleached. There is little one would dare to try and insult M’lus about when it comes to his well kept appearance.

Personality: An intimidating specimen of a man, M’lus is an individual that practically seems to radiate ‘don’t talk to me’. Indeed, he prefers to keep people at arm’s length, and that suits him just fine. He’s used to people behaving a certain way--specifically, treating his dragon a certain way. As a result, he seems to have little interest in making friends...and is quick to raise his brows at those who look like they may cause trouble. Though he may be unfriendly, he is not aggressive and will not drive someone anyway with force. He is always cordial, if antisocial. He’s a man who judges a book by its cover, and it’ll take a bit of work to convince him of someone’s good intentions once he’s decided otherwise. Perhaps ironically, he himself is a man with many layers--but most people don’t often realize that due to his standoffish nature.

Underneath his stern demeanor, the man is a gentle sort. Children and animals soften him up immediately, and it isn’t uncommon to find him some place quiet with a few younglings perched on his knee, regaling them with stories. M’lus is naturally drawn to those who are both innocent and vulnerable, unconsciously seeing himself as a protector. This means he becomes a little invested in those who catch his attention, and M’lus might try and steer them out of harm’s way… whether they want his assistance or not. Those that manage to worm their way into his good graces will quickly learn that while he isn’t a soft man, he is both understanding and considerate--and will go out of his way for those few special people.

Unfortunately, if he has decided that someone is worth his friendship or protection, he isn’t eager to let them leave again. Though he isn’t physically clingy, even small signs of these close bonds beginning to stray away are enough to make his hackles raising. He will likely check on these people a bit more aggressively than usually. He doesn’t want to lose what few friendships he has.

M’lus is not a man who is easily rattled, and someone you can depend on in any sort of crisis. While he may not always have the solutions, he’s a source of reason and confident in his ability to reach a satisfactory conclusion. He can sometimes be slow to change his course, especially when it’s something that’s worked for him in the past, but he is reliable in any position he’s placed in. He will never lead himself or those who rely on him intentionally into danger.

Positive Trait List Gentle, Steady, Kind
Negative Trait List Possessive, Standoffish, Judgemental

History: Malus grew up in a family who specialized in training bodyguards for those who could afford it. Specifically, their children were raised to be the perfect weapons, assigned to a person until death. Extremely supportive, his family raised Malus with love and affection, just as his other siblings were. As a result, he was quite close to his family… and so, when coming into his prime, his parents had to break the news to him that there was no client available for him. It was common protocol that children were promised to a clients before they were of age. Not just anyone would be accepted as a candidate for one of these bodyguards, after all. Malus, to say the least, was a little shocked. He had been training his entire life for this purpose… and now, unexpectedly, he had a freedom that he hadn’t expected.

During this free time, Malus was encouraged to attend a Hatching at High Reaches, and did so mostly out of curiosity. He never expected that his entire life would be turned upside-down, as a result. A big, awkward bronze spilled onto the sands about halfway through the event, and an appreciative murmur rippled through the crowd at his size and color. Though initially the hatchling scrambled to his feet and cheerfully bounded through the gathered Candidates, the bronze’s good humor quickly faded to unease and alarm. He was unable to find his match, slowly becoming more and more unsure of himself. The longer he failed to find his lifemate, the higher the chances were that he might disappear between.

Despairingly, the hatchling eventually cried out to everyone. Malus! Garganth is lonely…. Please don’t hide…

He could feel the dragon’s terror, and instinctively, Malus--M’lus--found himself knocking people over in the stands as he impatiently pushed through to reach Garganth. He was a dragonrider now… and little did he know, his bodyguard training would be put to good use. It was quickly apparent that Garganth, though a sweet and loyal creature, was not nearly as smart as his fellows. It was all too easy to make a target out of the huge bronze, and M’lus found himself protecting his tender hearted beast from not only his fellow Weyrlings, but other riders who were disappointed in Garganth’s lack of ambition and spirit. Bronzes, after all, had certain standards they were held to, and Garganth fell abysmally short of them all. They were scorned and mocked, with Garganth being considered “a flying herdbeast”.

Angry with the treatment his dragon was forced to endure, M’lus left High Reaches a few Turns after they had graduated Weyrling training. They lived as mercenaries for a long time, taking on jobs mostly consisting of protecting traders and traveling caravans. It was good, honest work, and for a time, the pair were happy. Turns went on, and eventually M’lus was aware that Garganth was becoming increasingly more lonely. The big bronze missed the company of other dragons, though he’d never insist on returning to a Weyr--not when he knew how content His was. But M’lus had long ago thought himself as a bodyguard to Garganth, and would do anything for the bronze’s happiness.

About twenty Turns before Thread’s return, the pair tentatively headed to Western Weyr. Though High Reaches had sneered and scoffed at the way the Weyr handled its politics and color hierarchy, M’lus thought it would be the perfect fit for them. Indeed, Garganth was more than happy to follow direction, regardless of the color of their hide. Though Thread’s return was devastating, Garganth fought valiantly against the silver scourge with an intensity that surprised even M’lus.

Western has been a home to them more than High Reaches ever was, and both dragon and man have sworn to serve as long as they can keep fighting… and they have many more Turns ahead of them.

Other: Anything else you want to add?

DRAGON
Name: Garganth
Age: 44 Turns (Zamiath and Baloth’s first clutch)
Color: Bronze
Size: 46’
Physical Description: A massive, scarred brute of a beast. Old injuries have left his teeth snaggled and protruding, which only lends to the appearance that he’s quite savage.
Personality: Upon first meeting Garganth, he appears to be a silent, taciturn dragon. He speaks in very short sentences, if he deigns to reply to anyone at all, and is always watching carefully. Those who are perceptive might realize that the dragon appears uncomfortable with new people. In truth, the large dragon is used to being made fun of, and has come to expect it from anyone who he doesn’t know to be nice. Though a maximum sized bronze, Garganth, to put it lightly, is a simple creature. Being shelled at High Reaches meant that there were certain expectations placed upon him upon hatching.

It quickly became apparent that Garganth had no desire to be a leader. He was clumsy and cheerful, but easily fooled and manipulated. He had no drive or ambition, and was content to fill his days happily playing with others. Abstract concepts and ideas were beyond him, and in most ways, Garganth was little more than a child. His feelings are prone to being hurt when he’s mocked, and he will silently withdraw into himself. On the other hand, it is extremely easy to gain his trust and loyalty with a little kindness, and it would never even occur to Garganth that someone might have less than honorable intentions.

Garganth will never shy from a challenge, however, especially if it seems dangerous. Threadfall has roused a fierce, fighting spirit within him, and he eagerly rises to the task every time. The big beast will never do anything half-heartedly, after all--even if sometimes he needs a bit of help understanding! He is deeply devoted to M’lus and will do anything his rider asks.

Dragon Art or Proof of Obtainment: /eyes emoji
 

[Smerdle]

Smerdle

RIDER

Name: R'dan

Age: 25 (3549.11.07)

Sex: Male

Sexual Orientation: Pansexual and prudish, minus a few specific situations I could name, but I won't

Weyr: Western Weyr

Rider Rank: Wingrider

Previous Rank/Craft: Heir of Durun Hold

Physical Description:
• 6'3"
  
• Light brown skin (a #dda680 to #c18e6a situation, for my future reference)
  
• Bright red hair, cut erratically and poofy like a lion's mane
  
• Beard
  
• Light green eyes
  
• Muscular build
  
• Scars: neck, hands, shoulder, etc. Threadscore, hatching sands, general mayhem.
  
• Functional clothing with flair, tastefully minimal because he thinks Western is disgustingly warm
  
• Cleans up well, if you don't mind his hair

Personality: No matter how invested he might be, R'dan usually manages to give off the air of someone who has better things to do. His default expression leans toward disinterest, even irritation, and when paired with his physique, he can make an intimidating first impression. Fortunately, it doesn't take long for him to laugh or smile, his unfettered grins most often stemming from the promise of a dangerous challenge. He's not exactly reckless (he leaves that to his dragon), but he does enjoy taking on the tasks that others shy away from and coming out mostly intact on the other side. And roughhousing. He likes that too.

Despite his tendency toward controlled chaos, R'dan was on track to become the head of Durun Hold, once upon a time, and he was quite well suited for it. He is a fair and objective man, if a little brusque about it all, and he has a noble bearing befitting the Holder he might have been.

Positive Trait List: protective, fair, regal
Negative Trait List: combative, gruff, masochistic

History: Durun Hold was only ever a Hold in name. A tiny, somewhat transitory commune in the treacherous and frozen north, it was made up of about six stubborn families who thought themselves trailblazers, but were actually just a little weird. The toughest of them were Zerah ahd Wharn, explorers with loud mouths and good ideas. They were the obvious choices to make decisions for the group when it decided to settle, and their eventual son was groomed to succeed them.

Rhodan was generally a lot quieter than his parents growing up, but that only served to force people to listen more closely. It made him seem smarter too, as silence often does. He had grown rather self-important by the time his parents first brought him to a proper Hold, but seeing how High Reaches operated soon cured him of that. Rhodan grew into the traits that got him respect from his fellows, never forgetting how his betters behaved either.

At eighteen, curious to see more of the outside world, he suggested that he act as Durun's ambassador, seeking out larger Holds to open serious trade relations with. Two years later, while on a routine trip to Ista, he was Searched to Western. Durun fell apart after that, the families that comprised the "Hold" going their separate ways now that their future had gotten himself weyr-ed up. No one really missed the place, in fact, most didn't even know it had existed at all.

Other: nup

DRAGON

Name: Feleveth

Age: 3 (possibly 3571.08.22 Sheyoth x Minoth)

Color: White (Green)

Size: 15' (24')

Physical Description: On paper, Fel is of an average length for her color, but in person the first thing one might notice is just how unconventionally long her tail is. It is a dexterous instrument, making up for her squat limbs and body while in flight but doing her no favors on the ground. She runs a little like a hopping rabbit, though she doesn't seem to mind.

Personality: Feleveth knew from the moment that she spilled onto the sands that R'dan was the rider for her. When she wants to jump off of something high, he's there to tell her when to spread her wings. When she wants to hop Between on a whim, he makes sure they know where they're going. She is a happy dragon, keen to lift spirits and make everyone feel welcome, but she can be rather dim too, almost to the point of endangering her existence. She says what is on her mind, and while her thoughts are generally positive, she has been known to ruffle some feathers when her opinions aren't that flattering.


Positive Trait List: adventurous, good-humored, welcoming
Negative Trait List: impulsive, blunt, literal-minded

Dragon Art or Proof of Obtainment: nay

 

[ShortGreen]

ShortGreen

Name: Toffie
Age: 19
Sex: Female
Sexual Orientation: Heterosexual in theory, she has yet to show much practical interest.
Weyr: Western Weyr
Rider Rank: Wingrider
Previous Rank/Craft: Tanner/Leatherworker

Physical Description: Looking at Toffie is pretty much like looking into some sort of warm, comforting hearth-fire complete with bubbling pot of klah, ready and waiting for you to sit down a spell. Her skin is an even golden-hued tan that will go even more golden after a bout of sun worship. It is fairly resistant to blushes. Her hair is likewise shades of gold and copper and tawny topaz, a massive silken riot of corkscrews and curls that reaches mid-back. Not that most people realize this as she regularly keeps it controlled in braids and loops and such. Her goggles help in this task and she has been known to go to bed wearing them accidentally/on purpose because she can’t be bothered to untangle the goggles from her hair. The only cool thing about her is her eyes which are a strikingly pale blue, large and rounded and clear. Stubby, dark lashes edge them and they are topped with dark, arched eyebrows set a bit crookedly. One eyebrow is a bit higher than the other and this, combined with her natural wide-eyed gaze, translates into a look that is frequently interpreted as bemused disbelief. Her face is heart-shaped with softly rounded cheeks and a pointed, stubborn little chin. A few reckless freckles scatter over her button nose. Her lips are thin and her mouth wide but, seeing as how it rarely stays still between smiles and grimaces and talking and laughter, no one judges much. Body-wise, Toffie appears to be topping out at a lanky five foot nine-ish with lots of leg and very little curve. At least, she thinks she has stopped growing. There is not a spare bit of fat on her, all long lines and lean muscle, with the agility and flexibility of someone who was born to be a dancer. Her hands are just as nimble and ever-moving with callouses from her leatherwork, careless mishandling of things, small burns and marks. Her dragon will proudly defend his claim that she has the best touch EVER and always knows just where and how to scratch.

Toffie has all of the fashion-sense of a coat rack and tends towards earth tones for her fitted trousers and loose-cut tunics with mid-length sleeves. She favors sturdy, high-laced boots and butter-soft waist-cinches and retains enough skill to make repairs to all of her own leather goods. When she is feeling fancy, she admits to a weakness for the color blue and has a treasured dress of that color given to her by her mother (and much altered to fit her growing frame). She always wears a small carved blue stone pendant on a leather thong around her neck; it was a gift from her favorite sister.

Personality: Toffie is the epitome of “what you see is what you get.” There are no ulterior motives to this woman, no hidden agendas, no secrets or even lies. To most people’s amusement and shock, she is exactly as cheerful and uncomplicated and friendly as she seems. Her optimism has yet to come up against something that defeats it. With every fiber of her being, she believes that hard work and pulling-together can defeat any barriers and it throws her off stride when she comes up against something that takes longer than she thinks it should to conquer. Pessimists and nay-sayers confuse her and those who shirk duty will raise her temper faster than few other things. While she is all for individuality (in fact, she loves meeting all varieties of people) and curious to a fault, she places high importance on teamwork and doing what you are supposed to do. To her mind, it is all about survival and she wants everyone to survive – in as solid comfort as possible, to boot. She has absolutely no patience for slackers or selfish people. This is a point on which she will not waver. Her stubborn nature manifests most noticeably in her belief system and moral code. However, she also gets herself set on a course of action and sticks to it, deaf to the cautious words of others. If she is wholly and utterly convinced of her right-ness in a situation, she is an immovable object and it best to go around her rather than work with her.

Toffie is built open and honest to a fault, bleeding into outright tactlessness on a regular basis. She says what she thinks and it is only by years of practice (and cuffs to the side of her head) that she can manage to prevent her foot from finding its way into her mouth (about half the time). Her filter is a bit askew, you see, and her own skin as thicker than triple layer wherry-hide so she doesn’t always realize how her words can hit. She never ever means anything malicious by her words. In fact, she is beyond guilty and upset when her thoughtless observations hurt someone’s feelings and will go to any lengths to make it up to the injured party. Her generous soul demands it. She hates pain and suffering and darkness and strives mightily to dispel as much of it as she can – through gifts and jokes and smiles and being the sort of solidly loyal friend we all should be lucky to have.

Her devotion, once given, is unwavering. What started as loyalty to her family has since grown into loyalty for her fellow riders plus the accompanying staff and residents of the Weyr. She loves hard and will put the physical needs of those she adores ahead of her own without thinking. A part of her is aware that this could be detrimental to her well-being and, in the case of fighting Thread, downright deadly but she shrugs the risk off as just something you do for your people. It boils down to a practical fact of life for her; she is under no illusions about the life expectancy of a dragon rider. She is, however, determined to do her best and protect to her utmost. She feels great honor at being Chosen and does not want to let anyone down. Any natural talent she possesses is viewed as a gift and treated with respect. This humility stands her in good stead when questions arise about her relatively young age and her big brown dragon and how DARE she?

Luckily for her, Toffie has a quick mind and an adaptive streak a mile wide. She learned her initial leatherworking trade easily and has taken to dragonriding like it was breathing, enabling her to work variations on a theme in both cases. She can improvise at the drop of a hat and calculates options fast enough that it often seems she dives into problems without thinking. Rest assured that she doesn’t. She always thinks. It is just that she thinks as fast as her body movies, most times, and her intelligence combines with her straight-ahead thought process to make things happen awfully fast around her. Toffie, unfortunately, suffers from impatience as a result and always wants to go-go-go. She restrains herself as best she can and, to her credit, her impatience rarely translates into temper but she often forgets that others don’t move or learn or think as fast as she does. She tries to combat her discomfort with standing still by multi-tasking. It sometimes works.

Positive Trait List cheerful, humble, loyal
Negative Trait List tactless, impatient, stubborn

History: Born the youngest of a (by Hold standards) unusually large family that totalled two parents and nine children, Toffie grew up used to squirming her way to the table and making herself heard in Igen Hold. She also grew up knowing how to work hard and be practical, learned traits that balanced out her buoyant and endless energy. Her father was ranked a Craftsmaster of Tannercraft and her mother worked in the kitchens while keeping serene and unruffled control of her brood.

At age 10, her father realized that they had to do something about this bouncing ball of energy and, since she already seemed fascinated by his work, brought her into the Tannercraft Hall for formal apprenticeship. The other kids were all settled out to foster and/or apprentice and here was little Toffie, driving them all bonkers. So it made sense. She took to it with joy and a natural talent. She liked the detail work and the usefulness of it all and so actually would settle into one place to learn. With all kids occupied and contributing to society now, the family thrived even as it spread away from Igen Hold. About half stayed put but the others started to roam, including one of Toffie’s unmarried sisters who became a journeyman Healer. When she returned, she told all sorts of fascinating stories about other people and places and, best of all to Toffie’s curious mind, dragons.

A bit of a hiccup to the family’s easy-going life happened when a Benden dragonrider showed up at a Gather shortly after Toffie’s 15th Nameday. Excited to see one of the beasts so close, Toffie managed to sidle her way up to the big brown for a closer look. The rider spotted her and was all set to shoo her off when he paused, exchanged looks with his dragon, and then burst into laughter when the dragon rumbled before twisting his head and delivering a gentle shove to the snooping girl. The rider promptly went to have a talk with her parents and, by the end of Gather, Toffie was on her way back to Benden with them. She had been Searched and her parents were not at all happy about it. Toffie herself was ready to see what it was all about and tried to comfort them that, maybe, she wouldn’t be Chosen, after all.

Unfortunately for them Toffie was Chosen during her very first time on the sands. A roly poly, somewhat uncoordinated brown tumbled to her feet and it was love at first sight. Her life changed completely when training began. She was delighted and happy, despite the flack the Weyrs got from the Holds for being “drains” and “leeches.” Toffie also spent a lot of time ignoring mutters and gossip about her, a mere gangly female, Impressing on a mighty brown. Vanoth helped a lot with that, though. He gave her such undisguised love and adoration that she could easily focus her attention on him. Their bond grew tighter and Toffie would curl up next to him anytime she faced a bout of insomnia.

Then, as Vanoth reached full growth, the skies turned and the Red Star returned. Thread had come once more and, with it, death abounded. The Holds panicked, livelihoods crashed, people died. To this day, Toffie is reluctant to talk about her own personal losses in that first Turn of Thread. While both of her parents and most of the rest of the huge clan survived, she lost her journeyman sister who was between Holds at the time, another sister, one of her brothers and his entire family (wife and two children), two brother-in-laws, and two other nieces. The loss of her Healercraft sister hurt her particularly hard; they were close and she was the only sibling who seemed to understand Toffie’s love for her new life. The tragedies served to focus Toffie even more on her training and work. She quickly became known as a fierce fighter and she and Vanoth worked like a perfect pair.

Slightly less than a Turn ago, Western put out a call for volunteers to move to their growing weyr. Toffie barely hesitated and up her hand went. She and Vanoth were ready for the next adventure.

Other: If her father hadn’t set her to the Tannercraft, chances were good that some entertainer would have snatched her up. For all that she is tall and lanky, Toffie has a natural talent for movement and can dance anyone into the ground and then some. Plus she can bend in all sorts of fascinating ways. Her stamina is also the stuff of gossip/legend. She has bouts of insomnia that hit her every 15-20 nights; she can function well enough after those few nights without sleep but she gets more impatient and snappish. She keeps her own riding gear in fine repair and decorates it with patterns from her own mind. If she likes you, chances are good you’ll get leather gifts as well. Other riders regularly beg her to do repairs to their leathers.

DRAGON
Name: Vanoth
Age: 3
Color: Brown
Size: 37 feet
Physical Description: Simply put, Vanoth is a massive brute of a brown. Deep-chested and about as stocky as a dragon can get, he defaults to crouching on his massive haunches like some overgrown herding-dog. His wings are gentle points, hardly a proper taper at all. His head is a strong wedge-shape in balance with the rest of his large frame. Overall, he is a lighter brown color with flecks of darker brown/amber mixed through his skin like subtle lowlights. He is very grateful to Toffie to keeping him well-oiled, scritched, and loved even if he has next to no vanity.

He has very impressive brute strength and, through steady drills with Toffie, he is getting the hang of agility (it doesn’t come naturally to him). Unfortunately, he is still liable to step on something breakable if he does not pay attention to his feet at all times. Delicacy does not come easily to him but he tries very hard and achieves his best results when he relaxes into a sort of mirror-state with Toffie, mimicking her natural grace and body-awareness.

Personality: A surprisingly good match for Toffie, Vanoth is about as placid and even-keeled as a dragon can get without slipping into a coma. Nothing much rattles him - not even his constantly fidgeting rider - possibly because one of her little fidgets is scratching him and his favorite thing in the world is getting lovely scritches. He is intelligent in a steady sort of way, not very enterprising or inventive but practical in getting the job done. He does not think out of the box; that is what Toffie is for, really. His sense of humor runs along the lines of Dad Jokes which no one but himself and newly-shelled dragons find amusing. He doesn’t care if you don’t laugh, luckily. He requires no audience; if anything, Vanoth is an introvert with a tolerance for the noisy Rest Of The World.

He has no temper to speak of nor any ability to hold a grudge. If he could remember a slight, that is, because Vanoth has a rather short memory span - even for a dragon. He believes in his rider with all of his heart and tends to look upon her like a doting and indulgent uncle, amused by her antics. He gets along with other dragons and fire lizards and most beasts, in general. On the other end, though, he really hates being crowded and will show a modicum of temper when forced into a tight space or hemmed in by too many other bodies.

Dragon Art or Proof of Obtainment: n/a