L'iv
Name: L'iv
Age: 42
Gender: Female
Craft/Rank: Secondary Warden
Appearance: How L'iv's genetics (an enormously stout but very short father, and a tall, slim, dour mother) conspired to produce her is a mystery - but not one L'iv has any interest in questioning. To question it would imply that she doesn't like it - and she does. She really, really does.
L'iv is tall, standing roughly a handspan above the average for women at five feet, nine inches. She's not thin - there's too much muscle on her, for starters - but as she's gotten older, fat and muscle have evened into sleek, solid curves that scream "Female" at the tops of their lungs. Maybe a good word for it is 'stacked' - L'iv has inherited her father's tendency to put on weight, which she combats with an obsessive exercise regimen. She's never going to have a flat stomach, but her bust and hips are attractively broad, and she's fit under the softness. She's fair of complexion, with light skin that burns before tanning nut-brown, cold blue eyes, and platinum blonde hair.
The hair is a vanity; L'iv wears it to the base of her shoulderblades, usually braided and worn twisted around her head when she's working. She dresses practically, in her guard uniform when on-duty and in flight leathers or dark, easy-to-clean clothes when not. She's not particularly comfortable with color, but will wear dark blues if she gets the chance. She does not, ever, wear skirts. You can't do anything in skirts, and so L'iv simply ignores them. She does, however, like sleeveless shirts, fitted trousers, and anything that shows off her musculature. She works hard for those biceps and calves, so why not show them off?
Personality: L'iv is one of those women who knows what she wants, how she wants it, and isn't afraid to go out and get it for herself. There's no such thing as impossible to this vicious spitfire, and her drive to get it done is matched only by her pride and her obsession with making sure everything falls into place the way she wants it. The day she Impressed brown, she made a decision about how her life was going to be and has not once gone back on it for anything or anyone. To L'iv, getting the job done is more important than anything else. She doesn't care what happens to other people, as long as she completes her tasks. Collateral damage is collateral damage - even when that collateral damage is physical or mental harm to other people.
Her confidence is infectious and her ability to make people shut up unparalleled. This isn't because she's any kind of natural leader - it's because she's honed her ability to yell louder than everyone else in the room. She likes being in charge of situations, preferring the feeling of control. Given a chance, she will take the lead, whether it's by shouting over everyone else or simply doing it. She's not good at sharing the spotlight, and tends to squabble with other strong personalities, but she is unflinchingly confident in herself. But there's a difference between taking pride in your actions and being arrogant, and L'iv is the latter. She knows she's good at what she does and has allowed this to solidify into a sort of physical presence of pride.
When L'iv has an opinion, it doesn't change. She will take a stance, and she will continue that stance regardless of what happens around her. She's strong in the face of dissent, unswayed by pressures, and unafraid to fight for what she believes in. She simply doesn't argue, ignoring anyone who tries and pushing right on ahead. She knows she's right, why should she waste time?Needless to say, she doesn't admit she's wrong. Once she makes a decision, she sticks to it, even when proven she's not in the right. It goes right along with sticking to your guns - you refuse to back down even when you know you ought to. She also doesn't apologize.
She plans ahead. It's what she's good at. L'iv makes an effort to be one step ahead of everyone around her - whether it's in a fight against felines, keeping the prisoners out of trouble, or simply washing her dragon. She knows where she wants to be - and what she has to do to get there. Planning her day step-by-step, and changing the plans at the drop of a hat, comes easily to her, but she tends to flounder without a plan. Everything she does, she does according to an order that she builds in her head. She's adaptable, of course, but she's not spontaneous. She needs to have time to think, and while she can think on her feet if she has to, she doesn't like it.
And she doesn't deal well with her autonomy and control being taken away, whether by unexpected events or unexpected authority. Things have to go her way. She doesn't like being subject to other people's whims, doesn't like rules, doesn't like surprises. In fact, she hates all of these things. The best way to get on L'iv's bad side is to throw such a wrench in her plans that she can't possibly work around it without scrapping her plan for the rest of the day. And you don't want to be on her bad side. L'iv is vicious, vindictive, and extremely nasty when threatened. She doesn't buy into backbiting and passive-aggression, though. L'iv doesn't have time to be passive-aggressive; she's too busy being flat-out aggressive. She prefers conflicts she can settle physically, because there's just something immensely satisfying about bludgeoning your problems into submission.
There are limits, of course. L'iv maintains a rigid personal code of behavior - don't start fights unless what you get out of it is better than what you had before, don't fight anyone obviously weaker than you unless they're offering a real threat, and don't ever back down from a fight if someone else starts it. Don't fight dirty unless your personal safety is threatened. It's not exactly perfect - and is probably why she got sent to Warden's - but it works for her. Aggression controls people just as easily as being their friend - and moreso, because people intimidated by you don't talk back.
Everything L'iv does, she does with a sort of calculated awareness. She's remarkably good at manipulating her own reactions, rarely responding emotionally to things that happen around her with any kind of passion. It's hard for her to empathize with other people - she tends to dissociate herself from them, because it's easier to be in charge than to relate. It makes her difficult to talk to, and often standoffish. She doesn't have time for other people's problems, and will thank you for not bringing them up. She looks out for number one to an astonishing degree, and friendships that don't further her goals tend to get ignored. She occasionally gets attached to people, of course, but if it stopped being beneficial to her to have those attachments, she'd drop them in a New York minute.
Needless to say, she has few friends. Those she does make, though, can count on L'iv to be fiercely, relentlessly loyal. Once she has decided someone is hers, they are hers forever, and she will fight to the death to keep them. This is partly because L'iv views other people as her territory and possessions, but also partly because she's too sharding stubborn to ever renege on her friendships. She likes what she likes, and she will keep liking it...and nobody, nobody can take it away from her. Romance is...similar. L'iv doesn't believe in emotional relationships, but she is glad to bed those men she takes a shine to. She tends to be interested in aggressive, type-A personalities, because people who don't dish it out and fight back are boring. If she can steamroll a man, she's done. Her lasting friendships tend to be the same way: she sticks with fellow dominant personalities, unless she ends up hating them, instead.
History: L'iv's family has a tradition of dragonriding excellence that spans generations. Bred at Benden Weyr from Ruathan stock, the line had a history of producing exemplary riders - bronzes in the men, the occasional gold in the women, with the occasional puffed-up hint dropped by some of the older members that they were descended from Lessa and F'lar themselves. It was only a rumor, of course, and probably one started by the family, but...you never know. With Flightsex and the way things in the Weyrs were..well, there are syllables in the names of a few older family members that might be testament to their origins. Of course, they might just as easily be a coincidence. The trick is realizing that it doesn't matter whether or not your yarn is true, as long as you tell it well.
Long story short, dragonriding was in young Livye's blood. Her mother was a greenrider, her father a bronzerider, and despite the whole 'dragon' thing, they found plenty of time to spawn. There was no question in their minds that Livye and her four siblings (three sisters, one brother) were intended to Impress. They were raised in the straps, so to speak, taught prodigious family pride alongside all the stories of their lineage, and the stories of their family's actual deeds, as well. When the Dragon Watch was founded, Livye's father was among the first volunteers, though her mother had long since retired to the role of housewife - a role that consisted of a great deal of work. Managing a household of five children was not easy, particularly when three were opinionated girls and one was a rambunctious boy (the youngest girl was pleasant and sweet, the good child, so to speak), but all were well-cared-for, none of them sent to the creche. They learned dragons, history, and those things that would be expected of Weyrlings. Particular attention was turned to Livye, eldest of the group.
She was intended to Impress gold. Her parents had raised her knowing and understanding the responsibilities of the Weyrwoman, and they had every intent of Livye adding to their impressive family line by bringing home a gold. Livye, of course, would have been delighted with anything. And when she was sixteen and a gold egg was laid at Benden for the first time since she had begun Standing, Livye was thrown on the Sands with the appropriate pomp and circumstance. She had gone through the motions, touched the gold egg, bowed and scraped to everything. And for a brief and shining moment, when that egg burst open, Livye really, genuinely thought the dragon was going to come to her. It would have been a perfectly terrible match. The gold had no sense of propriety or pomp and hatched halfway through the clutch, bursting from her shell screaming and lashing out at everything. She nearly killed one of her siblings and knocked down half the line of boys before realizing she wasn't even in the right row of Candidates. She put her teeth straight through one boy's arm, ripped one's Achilles tendon, and then nearly killed a girl who got too close.
And then she went for Livye. The girl thought she could handle herself when the gold came toward her. She had read the stories - she knew how Ramoth had been Impressed. And when a gold of Ramoth's get came toward her, she honestly thought she could handle it. She was ready. She would have died in an attempt to force-Impress Thorianith when the gold came for her, eyes whirling a red that never turned to rainbow.
And then a brown put himself between Livye and the gold, his sudden appearance all but unnoticed by everyone around him, and announced that his name was Howlith and that had been a very poorly planned maneuver indeed, if L'iv didn't object to his saying so. L'iv did object to the critique on her plan (it had been a good plan, all things considered), but she didn't object to the brown's presence startling off the gold, when she realized that Thorianith had eyes only for mauling, until she charged into the stands and ripped some fallen Candidate's little sister out of the arms of her parents. Howlith seemed to be perfectly content with the situation, though, and led a staring L'iv sedately to the Weyrlings' tables.
It was the start of a partnership that only got stronger. L'iv was ambitious - fierce and awful and unafraid to start fight, she butted heads with many of her fellow weyrling class, particularly as a female brownrider. But after the first few fights (and the first few weeks of no sleep and double latrine duty), she began to settle down and fall into the rhythms of the Weyr. She still fought anyone who implied she or her dragon was somehow less than others, but it was quietly, with words or a single, well-placed punch in the dark where nobody could pin it on her. And Howlith might have sighed at the latter, but he never told her to stop. They both knew - in Benden, they'd have to fend for themselves.
Which was why L'iv was determined to get out of Benden and follow in her father's footsteps. At eighteen, when Howlith was two years old, she was selected into training for the still-relatively-new Dragon Watch.
The training took longer than it should have. When L'iv was nineteen, her brother (who had Impressed bronze a year after her) entered the training program, and he was tapped into a Watch-wing a turn later. L'iv was left training and standing for another turn on trumped-up charges based on her gender and her dragon's color (or possibly because of "attitude problems" or even more possibly because of a combination of both). It stung, to watch L'ex and his dragon passed before her, but it redoubled her determination to prove herself. She and Howlith worked impossibly hard, wildly surpassing their peers, and when L'iv was twenty-one, she was finally tapped by a Watchrider. She had made it at last.
From there, she cut a clear course through the ranks, learning quickly who she had to be a sycophant to, and who she had to shamelessly manipulate in order to get where she deserved to be. Not where she wanted, not where she thought she should be, where she deserved. L'iv learned the system early, and learned that the only way to earn something as a woman in the Watch was to demand it, shamelessly. And when that didn't work, she was to go out and get it. Howlith might not always have approved of her means, but the ends certainly seemed to justify them, more or less. And if L'iv left the occasional addled wingleader in her way on her climb to the top, well. She was just doing what she needed to do to get what should rightfully have been hers, had the system not been rigged.
Though her work initially took her away from Benden, she returned to her old stomping grounds a few turns later, joining the Watch delegate there and keeping an eye on everyone and everything. She was wingthird by the time she was thirty-two. And by the time she was thirty-seven, she was wingsecond to a man who no doubt had promoted her as much for what she had to offer outside the wing as what she had to offer within it. Not that L'iv was interested in giving that up. Her one bargaining chip was going to be just that - and three turns later when it seemed that wingleader might just be ready to step down, she made him a deal. He could have what he wanted, if he arranged that when he retired, she would take over his wing.
It seemed a bit much to be demanded, especially by a woman, even if her prospects were good and her record spotless. And the wingleader was taken aback. He might not have said anything, initially, but L'iv decided to thicken the plot. One of Benden's golds had been looking...well, a bit shinier than usual. And if Weyrwoman had been denied L'iv, then she was certainly not going to pass up the opportunity for Weyrleader. When the gold took to the sky, Howlith went after her. He didn't win, but L'iv's wingleader went to his superior, told him about L'iv's offer, and implied that perhaps it was time for a certain uppity element to be...well, relieved of service.
Clearly the demand for Wingleadership, coupled with the undeniably bold move that had been Howlith's chase after the gold, was too much for the Watch to handle. L'iv was sent to Warden's Weyr a month later, with all the requisite paperwork and none of the accolades she deserved as a competent watchrider. That mattered little to her; within half a year at Warden's she had solidified a squad of her own, and hand-picked her second-in-command. She was fond of C'ross, in her own way; she liked his attitude, his obedience, and his drive to get things done. C'ross respected her, and after a while their relationship became a mutual outlet for frustrations. It started with sparring, the simple act of pounding on each other until they felt better. That never stopped. It just...progressed, until not all of the brisk physical activity in which they were engaging was appropriate for the outside world. Strictly proprietary, of course, no feelings attached. L'iv had no time for feelings, and C'ross...well, he was what he was. But he supported her, and that was what mattered.
She was not present at either the "incident" with Brakiheth's death, nor the Hatching. But L'iv is not stupid. She knows what has happened, and what is happening. And M'onk's time is beginning to end. L'iv is not quite reckless enough to help it along, but she can see things falling into place. With her recent promotion into the spot formerly held by Warden V'tyai, things suddenly look...possible. But L'iv is patient. She has waited this long for power, and she can wait longer. Taking a throne by assassination is not a good way to earn the loyalty of your inferiors. No, she will let the storm pass, and when it comes time to rebuild, she will be there. She has her own eyes on the inside, her own loyal friends. And life isn't easy - you have to work for what you want. But all it takes is time and a little patience.
It's quite simple, really.
Other stuff: Her relationship with Squadsecond C'ross, she would insist, is strictly proprietary. This is largely because L'iv doesn't have feelings.
Howlith
Name: Howlith
Color: Brown
Age: 26
Appearance: Howlith is kind of an odd-looking specimen of his color. His base color isn’t brown so much as cream; he’s a very light beige, with undertones of yellow and grey, and he’s just shy of the lightest a brown can go before it’s not really properly brown anymore. Overlaid on that, however, is a striking pattern of rich, dark chocolate brown over his back, his limbs, and his wing-membranes. These lines, like veins of dark ore running through pale stone, spiderweb out erratically – crossing, overlapping one another, and sometimes fading out into patches of lighter brown. It gives him a very distinctive look like polished marble.
In terms of build, however, it’s clear that Howlith favors function and performance over attractiveness. The overall impression he gives off is one of power balanced with athleticism; Howlith is big and solid, but not the largest of the browns, nor excessively musclebound. The brown is not the most extreme in any category. He just flies, and he flies well. He’s not going to outmaneuver blues or outlast bronzes and that’s not any particular concern for him. Rather, he moves with all the crisp precision of a flawless drillmaster, and he inspires the same in those dragons in his wing.
He has an unusually short, blunt head and neck and small eyes under heavy eyeridges: the kind of face that has occasionally earned him unfavorable comparisons to a wher. His headknobs and tail are likewise short and blunt, although Howlith would just sensibly observe that this leaves him with few clear vulnerable points or places to grab if it should ever come down to a fight. Not that he intends to be fighting his fellow dragons in earnest – but you never know when it will become necessary, ma’am. Best to consider the possibility.
Personality: Howlith, put in the most simple terms possible, is L’iv’s second in command. And that is precisely how he wants his life to be. Some dragons demand a relationship of peers, a give and take where both dragon and rider participate equally. That isn’t really Howlith’s style. He looks to his rider to be told where they’re headed. From there, he commits himself completely to sorting out the logistics of Point A to Point B. His rider tends to see people close to her as territory rather than equals, and Howlith is quite content with the knowledge that no one can ever usurp his place at L’iv’s right hand. However high she climbs, Howlith will be one rung behind her, there to give her a boost and catch her if she starts to slip.
This is not to say, however, that Howlith is a doormat. He is, in fact, a remarkably dominant personality. He’s just less dominant than L’iv. The brown is almost obsessively organized, and he likes everything – and everyone – to know their place. He is respectful, even deferent to those higher than him… and with those beneath him, he demands absolute respect and obedience. (Incidentally – when he says ‘beneath him’, he means it. Howlith is fully of the opinion that he and L’iv are leaders because they deserve to be and they’ve earned it, and he’s got zero sympathy for sullen, uppity greenriders who aren’t satisfied with their place.) He’s not afraid to throw his weight around and dish out some physical intimidation to make the less disciplined dragons fall in line, either. If he has to kick some tail, then he will kick some tail, and he won’t feel bad about it afterwards, either. Why? Because now you’ve learned something. Namely, not to sass Howlith.
That said, Howlith takes his code of conduct very seriously. His rider is L’iv or – more frequently – ma’am. She is not “mine” or “love” or any other term of endearment. Howlith loves her. He loves her more than he’ll ever love any female. But he respects her too much to demean her with diminutives. Likewise, on the rare occasion he feels the need to contradict one of her orders, he tends to be impeccably polite: ma’am. Ma’am, that’s the Weyrleader. I think you may want to rethink this course of action. He will speak up when he thinks that she’s digging herself into a hole – especially if that hole is about to turn into a latrine – but Howlith will not act against L’iv’s direct command. Ever. Even if it kills him.
Howlith may come across as something of a workaholic hardass, and… well, that’s because he is. But that’s not the only side of him. He’s actually very pleasant and even courteous to other dragons and riders, provided that no one is actively challenging his authority or sassing his rider. In the hands of a less ambitious rider, he might have even made a good weyrlingmaster, in a… very strict kind of way. Howlith tends to be vaguely paternal towards younger dragons, in that slightly stiff and grudgingly fond sort of way. He enjoys friendly discussion of tactics and strategy, and he has excellent spatial reasoning and grasp of three-dimensional visualization, which makes him great at suggesting variations on a formation on the fly. He’s certainly never going to be his wing’s best friend, but he isn’t a hellish drill sergeant screaming at them constantly, either.
Incidentally, his rider’s sexual proclivities are none of his business. No, really. He doesn’t want to know, ma’am. Please don’t tell him. He certainly doesn’t disapprove of L’iv having a sex life, but by the golden egg, he does not want a blow-by-blow. He will occasionally rise and chase a female when he feels like L’iv might want him to – either because the female is gold and therefore might confer power, or when he just senses that she might need to take out her frustrations on her wingsecond and needs a convenient excuse to do so. The rest of the time he pretends that sex doesn't exist.
