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Name: Valeska
Age: 34
Gender: Female
Sexual Orientation: If it doesn’t have boobs, then Valeska is politely disinterested.
Former/secondary Craft: n/a
Rank: Wingrider

History: Valeska was born at Ista Weyr, to a bronzeriding father V’sol and a journeyman weaver mother Rana. Her younger sister Solana was born a few turns later. Despite the usual stereotype of the philandering dragonrider, the little family was actually a rather stable one; it helped that her father's bronze was not the type to go chasing after any dragon but a gold, and thus Flights were few and far between. Both human and rider were very much alike: stern, serious, old-fashioned, by-the-book, and fiercely principled. Do things right or don't do them at all, was what got hammered into young Valeska’s head.

It was little surprise when V’sol voluntarily accepted a transfer to Benden when Valeska was nine. The Benden leaders had the right idea, he said. Finally, someone stepping up and doing what's right for Pern. The girl was just old enough to remember her father's teachings clearly; Solana, several turns younger, cried for weeks. Assurances were made that he would visit regularly, that really it was a miracle that a dragonrider had remained part of the family for so long... And at first that was the case. Then the bronzerider began to let work eat his free time more and more, and absences between the brief visits grew longer and longer.

Valeska, for her part, quietly moved on. She showed something of a knack for the technical crafts. She considered the Ancientcraft, even with the AIVAS-inspired crafts losing their innovation and falling out of the public eye, but ultimately it proved more frustrating than rewarding. Instead she ended up in the guards: she had some simple self-defense training, courtesy of her father, and the work was both hard enough to keep her fit and necessary enough to be satisfying. She would have happily continued on there indefinitely... If it hadn't been for the searchdragon.

It was during one of Valeska’s brief returns home to Ista Weyr when she ran into the green and her rider by chance. The green was excited, very excited - declared her a potential Candidate, told her of eggs on the sands, urged her to stand. The excitement only grew when the young woman admitted to being the daughter of G'sol, who was still remembered at Ista as a well-respected bronzerider even turns after his transfer. Valeska was reluctant to leave her post... but she knew what was expected of her. She stood for the clutch.

When a stunningly handsome blue spilled out onto the hatching sands, turned whirling rainbow eyes towards Valeska - it seemed like fate. She would follow in her father's footsteps. Of course she would. Only Valeska could hear the cool, cynical, amused voice in her head telling her that was wherryshit.

Rheth was... frequently trouble, his sharp tongue getting the both of them into scrapes, but raw talent and nerve managed to pull them through, and the young rider built up a record of distinguished service and general badassery. Still, Valeska was no carbon copy. Even from the beginning, she was a little wilder, a little more inclined to push the boundaries of the rules. Pay evil until evil, as she would put it. Never to the point of serious violence, of course - she would fight in self-defense, or if someone resisted, but she kept control.

Regardless, her unorthodox and occasionally reckless methods earned her reprimands as often as they earned her accolades – and being a female rider of a male fighting dragon wasn’t exactly a bonus in that equation. She was ultimately drafted under the command of a wingleader with likeminded tendencies - one of the rare female brownriders permitted to lead a wing on raw charisma and talent alone. The whole wing, composed of hand-picked 'difficult' riders who could nonetheless get the job done, fast became thick as thieves. Say what you like about them, the little group worked. They got the job done.

At one point, Valeska received a message while her wing was in the middle of an important mission, far from Ista. Rana, her mother, had fallen ill, and Solana had returned to Ista to stay with her. Both of the family riders had been contacted. Neither one came home. Valeska and her sister had... something of a falling-out over that one. She apologized, did her best to atone for it... or at least to try to explain why. Regardless, the relationship between the siblings has been a cold and bittersweet one since.

Valeska remembers the first Threadfall. She remembers watching the Wingleader's brown tumble crazily across the sky, only to vanish between. She still has no idea what happened - whether it was the dragon or the rider who went first. She doesn't want to know. Also, she was kind of busy with a face full of smoldering ash while Rheth screamed in her head.

She spent some time in recovery - less than she probably should have, as she was back on the job as soon as the healers put her face more-or-less back the way it ought to be. While in recovery, she met someone else: bronzerider Sa'nil of Zenoth, recently struck deaf in a terrible accident. Both of them were still recovering, from scars both physical and metaphorical, and while their circumstances were vastly different, there was an immediate understanding between them. Valeska did her best to learn the Pernese sign language that Sa'nil was developing, assisting him in vocabulary and solidifying the bond between the two scarred riders. It was useful both for communicating with the deaf bronzerider and for making herself understood to the healers when it hurt too much to speak out loud - and in return Sa'nil gave the aimless rider a sense of purpose... something she'd lost since her previous wingleader's death.

Turns out, the formerly tight-knit wing drifted apart with their leader's death. They transferred off to other weyrs around Pern - and Valeska, with no desire to look back, carved herself out a new niche to keep from spiraling back into depression. She and Rheth stuck with Zenoth for a while. The reprimands for "excessive force" came back with greater frequency. She was less of a rising star and more of a liability now. Ultimately it was Valeska’s choice to move to the Wherholds; she didn’t join them until well after the hostile takeover itself was over, but before the most recent round of espionage and sabotage exchanged with Trine. Thus she didn’t fight in the Revolution itself, being still well out of the way at the time, but was already fairly established before the renewed hostilities closed Benden and Malvren’s borders.

Description: Valeska is pretty much a rock. Fairly short at only five foot four, she is nonetheless broad in both shoulder and hip, in a way that doesn’t imply fat so much as tank. She’s got very little in the way of breasts, which she downplays even more with sensible binding when necessary. Because hey, sometimes when you’re toting a bow they get in the way. For her build she is surprisingly light on her feet, with a soft step and a steady tread that can quickly turn into an all-out sprint as needed. Calling her acrobatic would be outright wrong, but she moves with the quick, calm purpose of a trained guard.

Both her skin and her hair are virtually the same color of nut-brown. The skin started off ambiguously tan and the hair started off ash-brown, and then sun darkened the one and lightened the other until they more or less turned into a wash of sameness. She keeps that hair about shoulder-length, either tucked behind her ears or pulled back into a tight runnertail to stay out of her face. Only her eyes break the monotony: a surprisingly light shade of clear grey-blue, bright and frequently glimmering with good humor.

There is a hefty burn scar along her right cheek, going from ear along her jaw down to her neck. It wasn’t Thread - not directly - but rather a clump of ash that got blown back into her face off the draft of another dragon’s wings. It took a long time to heal, and usually Valeska wears it with pride unless she has a specific reason to cover it. When she does need to be a bit more anonymous, though, she prefers high-collared jackets, scarves, or anything that will cover the lower jaw.

Personality: Valeska is a bundle of surprises. Upon first impression, you see this fierce-looking, shortbow-toting, scarred-up dragonrider in a Wherholder's uniform? You would not be insane to think "oh god I should be running." But then she opens her mouth and out comes this light, charming mezzo-soprano voice, and it becomes immediately obvious that you've got nothing to worry about from this ex-guard. She is polite, generally amiable, and possessed of a witty sense of humor. Once you get past the less-than-ideal surface, she’s a really great companion.

Unless you're opposed to the wherholder’s cause. In which case... well, you can still run if you like. She enjoys a challenge.

She tried to be a good cop. Well, mostly. Valeska is unswervingly loyal to her leaders; it was ingrained in her from a young age to respect authority and uphold the laws of Pern. This isn’t to say she won’t question an incompetent superior, because she will – Valeska values freedom and personal choice as much as she values respect and honor, which is the whole reason she joined the Revolution. But at the same time, she’s selfless enough to not think twice about putting herself in harm’s way for someone else’s sake. She's not a leader, but a strong right-hand man… err, lady. Unfortunately, she tends to put almost too much faith in people at times, and finds betrayal personally devastating. She can hold grudges for a long time, but she will also blame herself for any failures, letting the weight of Pern rest on her shoulders until it crushes her.

It's her overenthusiastic vigilante tendencies that sometimes get the better of her. When something really gets under her skin, she's perfectly capable of pursuing it beyond justice and into the realm of vengeance, and at time her callous ruthlessness towards more traditional bronze- and goldriders can be - troubling. The lack of a solid justice system on Pern both frustrates and enables her. On the one hand, dragonriders are the be-all end-all on Pern. They are police, judge, and jury all rolled up into one. On the other hand, corruption exists and the well-connected can still easily slip through the cracks; one of the greatest appeals of the Revolution to her eyes is the way that it makes dragonriders responsible to someone other than just their fellow dragonriders and whatever Lord Holder they have to pretend to pacify. Her instinctive tendency is to see the world in terms of black and white: it takes effort for her to deal with shades of grey.

On a mission, Valeska tends to be the one cracking jokes in the middle of a crisis. It's just how she copes - as long as she keeps the outward appearance of being unruffled and in control, she can keep going no matter how bad the odds look. She's also one tenacious b***h. See those scars on her jaw? Yeah. She got back up and returned to duty as soon as the healers put her face back together.

Other: She is a terrifyingly good shot with a shortbow. She’s also unbelievably bad at flirting. Really. Words cannot express the awesome quantities of DERP that come out of her whenever a beautiful woman enters the picture.

Dragon
Name: Rheth
Age: 16
Colour: Blue
Size: Above Average
Build: Very Slim
Description: Image!

Rheth is long and whippy for a blue, he is speed and stamina combined, though he lacks the raw strength of some of his color. He has the body of a distance runner, lean muscles are etched into the cool blue of his hide. While he doesn't have the quick bursts of speed seen in the smaller blues and greens he will catch up eventually. This boy doesn't have an ounce of fat, and he can fly all day without tiring. There's an elegant serpentine quality to him: long slender body, neck, and tail with relatively short limbs and a smoothly triangular shape to his head. He looks streamlined, a creature made to slip through air currents like they were water. His hide is a delicious shade of liquid blue, emphasized by a dappling of lighter-colored spots interspersed with vertical stripes.

Personality: Rheth is a cynic. He calls things like he sees them, and his vision is excellent. Rheth considers the niceties of society to be ridiculous, and tosses them to the four winds. Council, Wingleader, Weyrleader, makes no difference to Rheth, if your idea is foolish he'll make sure you know. Rheth is not cruel in his honesty, and he takes no pleasure in his words, but if they need saying, he's gonna be the one to say them. His mouth has earned Valeska extra duty on more than one occasion.

This honesty extends to his rider, as he attempts to act as a counter balance to his rider's selflessness and unwavering trust. He always goes for the counterpoint, playing devil's advocate in an attempt to get Valeska to see both sides of the coin. Rheth tries to keep Valeska's heroic tendencies from getting out of hand, lest they both end up heading between in a handbasket. For all his cynicism and snarkiness Rheth would go to the moons and back for his rider, all the while telling her how crazy the whole situation was. Rheth is no gentleman, but he does have an honorable streak.

Rheth is a hit with the ladies, even without trying he's just smooth. Human or dragon, he has a sweet and sincere line for all of them. He can charm with a glance, and make a girl go weak with a lazy flick of his tail. When not quipping about the foolishness of the establishment he can be found in the company of some pretty little thing. It's the bad boy aura.

Why these two together? Valeska needs an ally who can see the shades of grey. The cowboy cop needs someone to tell her she's still mortal. Rheth is that someone. He is the balance that brings his rider back to center. He is the voice that chuckles at those ill-timed jokes, knowing they are the tool that keeps her calm and focused. Rheth knows when to prod, and when to leave well enough alone. When to remind his rider she cannot save everyone, and when to follow her into the thick of things. Now, if only he can keep his mouth shut during inspections.

Other: n/a

Fixed!