Name: G’non
(Formerly - Gannon)Age: 44
Gender: Male
Sexual Preference: Heterosexual
Rank: Wingrider
Former Craft: Harper
Personality: G’non is a man who is devoted to his passions. Ever fond of playing music, one of his main ideas to unwind is to play his guitar, hum, or sing to himself to or to whoever may be listening/in attendance. He loves his kids and his weyrmate with everything he has. Protective and fretful over his children, the bluerider wants the best for them and you can bet without a doubt that every single gray hair upon his head comes from his kids. Willing to go above and beyond for those closest to him, G’non readily makes himself available to his dearest friends, his children, whoever may have need of him. Either being an innate trait or perhaps coming from his time in the Harperhall and his interest in teaching, he’s a knowledgeable fellow, virtually always ready to offer up advice, a shoulder to lean on, or an ear to borrow. When a topic that strikes his passions, he has been known to go on at length in heated rants until either his point has been made or he runs out of steam.
The bluerider, time and time again, has shown his devotion and loyalty to those close to him, stubbornly standing his ground, be it simply patiently or doggedly waiting for them or even in the face of authority a time or two in the past. G’non remains as curious, playful, and creative as he was in his youth in the Harperhall. At the present, he is comfortable with himself, his role, and his life. He has a beautiful weyrmate that has been a friend to him through thick and thin for a long time, four amazing kids that continue to amaze him and make him proud, and just so much. Sure, he may not always get around as well as he’d like to and sometimes things can get a bit rough, but the paternal rider is just about as happy as a man can be.
Physical Description: G’non stands in at around five foot seven and a half, with an average, compact build. His skin would tend toward a degree of fairness if he spent more time indoors, but he’s a fellow who enjoys his fresh air and, though his leg can occasionally give him trouble, doing the various things that bring him joy and satisfaction. Such being the case, the ex-Harper tends to sport a light tan pretty much always. He’s got soft, lightly hooded brown eyes. The rider tends to wear his wildly wavy, messy blond hair a little long, at the very least long enough to pull into a ponytail at the base of his skull should he choose to do so. It can be noted that he is beginning to gray at his temples and there are signs of wrinkles beginning to form at the corners of his eyes and at his forehead. G’non is a very emotive man, so such developments aren’t too much of a surprise for him. He smiles easily and often if he can help it.
His clothing choices tend towards neutral and earth tone shades, but his time as a Harper’s apprentice has made him extremely partial to blues. (Besides, blue in all its various tones and shades is a pretty solid, stand up color, in his opinion anyway.) He’ll deviate from his norms occasionally, but not often. A standard for him in his clothes is that they are sturdy, comfortable, and easy to move in.
For all his time as a rider, working the drills, fighting thread, and so on, he isn’t unmarred. The bluerider has his own share of scars, like his bondmate. His most notable and probably his worst injury to date was when he caught a falling cluster of thread to his right thigh. It scarred it pretty significantly and had him off of his feet for quite a while, limping and using a cane for assistance for a time after that. That was a few turns back and he is able to walk around unaided now, though that doesn’t stop his old injury from causing him some twinges and pain every so often. G’non has a few scattered lighter, less significant scars other places, but nothing else of serious note.
History: G’non was born Gannon to the Harperhall of two young harpers. From his earliest memories, his days were filled with music and learning. The youngster loved it, helping when he could, playing around, observing, and just having a grand old time in the hall dedicated to what he considered to be probably the best craft out there. Eager to learn and a drive to do so, when he came of age at nine, the boy apprenticed outright. Nine turns old couldn’t have come soon enough for him. Having always had an interest in the guitar, it quickly became his instrument of choice. Early in his apprenticeship he became playmates with a girl of his age named Antara. Time wore on and Antara grew interested in him. Being horrendous at keeping secrets and dropping easy to read ‘tells’, it wasn’t long before Gannon picked up on her interest and the two began to date. At seventeen, Gannon was Searched by an Istan search rider. Having grown to care deeply for his young lady love, he was hesitant and debated on simply staying in Fort so that they could stay together. She encouraged him to go. After much discussion, the teen agreed, saying that when and if he should Impress, he would write to her straight away. Besides, if he didn’t impress, he could always return to Fort, to her, and fall back on the Harperhall.
Not long after his arrival, the senior Queen at the time rose and produced a clutch. Gannon went through the touching and stood on the Sands when the time came that the eggs began to hatch. In his first time standing, he Impressed to blue Torvarth, becoming G’non. The boy was speechless and felt a sort of elation that he hadn’t expected. That night, after the hatching feast, the newly minted weyrling sat down and wrote a letter back home to Fort. Patiently, he waited for a response, but none came, even after a couple of letters. Time continued on and G’non graduated from Weyrling lessons to become a wingrider. Worry and ache had taken a place in his heart. He had met and become friends with a young greenrider names Io. She stuck by him, encouraged, soothed, and kicked his butt when the need arose. It was several Turns before he felt healed and whole enough to open himself up to romantic attachment. When he was ready for such a relationship, Io was there as she always had been for him. Tentatively at first, the two began seeing each other. It wasn’t long before they realized the depth of the feelings they had for each other. They became weyrmates, going on to have their first child together, a daughter they named Iona. When she was weaned, the girl was sent to the crèche and a few turns later a son followed, Ionan. Like his elder sister, once the boy was weaned, he was sent to live in the crèche. Not long after this, Thread returned. In that fight, Io caught a tangled cluster of thread to her upper right arm. G’non had been trying to make his way closer on Torvarth when it happened. He didn’t hear if Io screamed, but the shriek that Fiorith, her bondmate, gave cut through him to his marrow. The green went between and G’non seemed to forget to breathe at that moment. It wasn’t any time at all before Io and Fiorith came back, but all was not well. With the return, the green seemed to be having trouble, almost freefalling a small distance before getting her wings out to come into a landing. Swooping low, G’non was met with a sight that chilled him to the bone. A smear of red ran down over the green’s shoulder and Io was slumped forward limply. G’non’s wingleader saw what was going on and had his dragon send Torvarth the okay for G’non to rush to see to Io, the threadfall was slowing considerably and things were in control. He can’t recall a time where he dove sharper or quicker than that moment. Dismounting, he rushed to his weyrmate. She was pale and semi-conscious, though he couldn’t seem to get her to focus on anything. Her arm was just gone! The healers arrived quickly and Io was hastily ushered to the healer hall. With the threat of the thread addressed, G’non tried to do his best to reassure the distressing green, all the while his own mind was just racing with thoughts and fears of what was going on. He scarcely slept a wink for the next few days until Io came through. Fortunately, she didn’t remember the bulk of the ordeal, though for a month or so after she would sometimes wake up in the night, breathing raggedly, clutching herself, before going out to check on Fiorith. G’non learned that though she didn’t recall much, Fiorith’s cry still echoed in her memory and it pained her so.
The time afterward was a time of learning and readjusting for the weyrmates. What could she still do, what did she need help with? Working with each other, they came to find what worked for them and that became the new norm. It was difficult sometimes but they grew and learned together. He felt blessed that his weyrmate lived, that the mother of his kids survived. G’non was awed by her strength and perseverance. Life continued onward with the bluerider getting a Thread related injury of his own, though not nearly as earth shattering as his weyrmate’s. Eventually, through fate or happenstance and a little meddling from someone, G’non discovered that he had another son, his first in actuality, living right there in Ista. T’rel, then a wingsecond, was his son with Antara. It was a huge discovery, but one that G’non embraced into his life. Io, too, was welcoming of the young man, accepting him essentially as though he were a son of her own. Iona went on to Impress a dragon of her own, Ionan was still living the weyrbrat life, and more recently the pair brought another daughter into the world, little Naoni. Both riders agreed that she would be their last. Their family was wonderful and felt complete, two sons and two daughters. With their bondmates ever there, what more could they possibly ask for?
Talents: Playing guitar, singing, being a mentor/father figure.
Notes: Owner of the Gold flit, Little Wing.
Dragon:
Name: Torvarth
Age: 27
Color: Blue [
These blues specifically]
Physical Description: On the smaller side for a blue, Torvarth is a handsomely built dragon, well proportioned for maneuverability. His hide is for the most part a mix of varying lighter blues, the middling of these hues being the base tone while the lightest colors fade up from his neck, underbelly, and the underside of his tail, the darker being flecking and speckling across his upper portions. The membranes of his wings are predominantly the lightest of his blues while the trailing edge bears darker speckling. Here and there upon his body are telltale threadscore scars from his numerous years of fighting thread.
Personality: Just about as friendly as a dragon could be, this blue really does have a love of interacting with others. Torvarth is a sweet, loving dragon who is very affectionate with His and those that fall into the realm of close fondness for dragon and rider, family, friends, curious and friendly folks, you name it. Welcoming of friendliness or affection from kids or other people, Torvarth is very gentle and deliberate with his interactions. This sort of deliberateness can also be seen simply when he moves around or in the air. He’s a deft, capable flyer, agile. This lighthearted dragon tends to let most things just roll off his ride, but, for the rare thing that does get him down or under his skin, he has been known to wallow or sulk a bit, seeking out solace from His until the offense is forgotten. On the flip side of things, when the light on his feet blue is practically bubbling with gaiety or enthusiasm, he has occasionally been observed trotting, almost cantering at times.
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