Handler:
Name: Mikhail
Age: 24
Gender: Male
Sexual Orientation: He's never found someone he can tolerate.
Former/secondary Craft: N/A
Rank: Journeyman Wherhandler
History: Mikhail's goal in life was to never amount to anything. He aimed for mediocrity.
Then he got Mikhask.
He was born at Kazvan Hold, to Kazvan Holders whose family had lived there since Kazvan Hold was founded. They weren't anything in particular - not the way some families were predominantly Smiths, or Tanners, or Beastcrafters. They were just...Holders. Some of them went into crafts, of course, if they had the talent, but for the most part, they worked. They tended fields or did artisan work or maintained the grounds, whatever needed to be done, they did it. There weren't a lot of high-ranking individuals in Mikhail's family, but there were plenty of hard workers. They subscribed to a "Work hard, play hard" mentality, though, and while many of the family had to be up at the crack of dawn to do things, family occasions were loud, and boisterous, and fun. Mikhail was born into a group of people who washed dishes because someone needed to do it, and then went out and got roaring drunk as soon as the chores were done. He was a surprisingly quiet boy initially, the sort of kid who stays a little bit on the fringes and talks quietly to his cousins while the majority of people played games.
Since Mikhail's family didn't contain much in the way of specialists, Mikhail never bothered to become a crafter, or even really looked into it beyond the cursory lessons given by the Hold Harper. He wasn't good at anything in particular, and though he liked reading, he wasn't exactly the sort of fellow to jump at the chance to go anywhere. He liked it where he was, and though he sometimes wondered a little idly if riding a dragon or handling a wher like the miners did would be exciting, it wasn’t something he really cared about. Instead, he settled into a comfortable routine of “work hard, party had, don’t give a single wherry’s a** about what happens to people who aren’t me.” It went surprisingly well.
His life was surprisingly boring; Mikhail did nothing in particular, and nothing in particular continued happening to him. Right up until a gold wher arrived at Kazvan and wher Candidates were suddenly desperately in demand. Mikhail was mildly interested, and when he informed a 'handler of this, they snapped him up immediately. Training was brief but thorough, and when he was twenty-two, Mikhail was shoved onto the Sands and told to convince the gold wher to give him an egg. He did this primarily by staring awkwardly at her until she told him to go away and shoved an egg at him. So he took it, and tended it, and it hatched into Mikhask. Mikhail was a wherhandler, and the full weight of that responsibility crashed down on him like the weight of a gold dragon.
Initially, the Revolution seemed to more or less go on around him. Nobody really cared about the kitchen folk when it came to terrorizing the Wherholders or dragonriders; what were you going to do with the washerwomen? It wasn't like they had any major clout in the Hold. But then Mikhail and his blue were summoned to Malvren to make up for numbers lost in the initial conflict - it became readily apparent that Mikhask wasn't exactly the sort of wher anyone wanted fighting for them, though, and he stayed out of the worst of the conflict. There were casualties, of course, and Mikhail blames the dragonriders for the loss of two of his cousins and his uncle's crippled leg, all of which happened in the initial Wherholder fighting, but the mess blew itself out and a tentative quiet fell over Malvren. For a time.
The abrasiveness didn't come out until after he the Revolution. Suddenly ripped from his life of comfortable mediocrity and thrown into a confusing world where everyone was constantly shouting at or threatening him, Mikhail learned to scream back just as loudly. When it turned out that his wher had smarts approximately equivalent to a bag of hammers, that only aggravated it. He perfected the art of flying off the handle, and then proceeded to lose it whenever things went wrong. It kept him out of the worst of the Wherholder conflicts, and basically prevented him from being dragged into the ugly political mess that was the Revolution. Mikhail had no interest in anything other than keeping his life relatively normal, and that was hard enough with just Mikhask; adding anything more to the complications would have been unacceptable. Mikhail went out of his way to fly under the radar, and it mostly worked.
Most recently, he has managed to stay completely out of the politics surrounding the raids. The fact that the dragonriders at Trine attacked and killed a gold wher sucks, of course, but frankly, the Wherholders are a society of dicks, and so are the dragonriders – so who’s really surprised that all of this happened? Then again, if it doesn't directly concern Mikhail, he never cared about it to begin with, anyway.
He cared about the poisoned food, though. That just wasn’t cool.
Description: Mikhail's not particularly offensive to look at. In some lights, some people may even be generous enough to call him cute. Realistically, he's average, the sort of face people wouldn't recognize if they saw him in a crowd. He's not tall, standing at only five feet, eight inches, and his build isn't anything to write home about. In fact, Mikhail's a little bit on the heavy side. He's not out-of-shape - because a wherhandler has to be able to do protracted heavy lifting and hold his own in a fight, and also because Mikhail spends an unreasonable amount of time bodily dragging Mikhask around - but he's got the paunch of someone who drinks heavily, eats whatever he feels like, and doesn't see any reason to exercise outside of what he does for his job. His face is round, boyish for someone his age, and he wears oval-lensed spectacles.
He's fair of complexion, not that odd for someone of Northern descent and compounded by the fact that he's practically allergic to daylight, with brown eyes and a head of ferociously curly light brown hair. He crops the hair short enough that it won't obstruct his vision, and then crams it under knitted hats to keep the elements out. Mikhail hates weather. It's not unusual to see him in long sleeves, even in the summer, and he's one of those people who bundles up unreasonably every time he has to go outside in any season that's not summer, and then complains about the cold the whole time. He wears gloves almost constantly - either fur-lined, fur-trimmed things in the snow, or heavy leather work gloves for whenever he's chasing Mikhask again. He's also, courtesy of his wher, the pasty white that comes of being largely nocturnal. When exposed to sun, he burns. And then peels. And then burns again.
Personality:
Strengths:
- Honest: If Mikhail says something, he means it. Whether this is telling someone they’re a sack of wherrycrap or letting them know that he appreciates them tends to be up for grabs at any given time, but Mikhail tells the truth. Lying for any reason other than extreme survival circumstances seems to be beyond him.
Hardworking: Mikhail gets work done. He doesn’t like slacking off, and doesn’t like having things hanging over his head, so when he’s assigned tasks, you can bet your a** he does them, and does them well. He grew up in a family where working hard was the necessary precedent to partying hard, and Mikhail doesn’t believe you can stop to enjoy yourself if you still have work hanging over your head.
Reliable: Right along with the “hardworking” and “honesty” bits, Mikhail doesn’t make promises he can’t keep. It’s probably the most genuinely good thing about him – if he tells someone he’s going to do something, then by Faranth, he’s going to do it, and nothing is going to stop him. He doesn’t make promises readily, but if he’s made one, he will keep it.
Neutral: When the Wherholder conflict cropped up, Mikhail pretty much stayed out of it. He has no interest in fighting or killing anyone, and though his argumentative tendencies are probably better-suited to the Wherholders than the Weyr, he thinks both groups are being unreasonable and should stop doing insane things like killing each other and organizing gladiator fights between prisoners and keeping people in suspended cages. In his opinion, it’s all wherryshit.
Self-Motivated: What Mikhail does, he does because he wants himself to be the best he can be. He doesn’t need outside forces telling him he’s doing good work or a good person – he tends to disregard the voices of authority in general – and generally what matters to Mikhail is that he thinks the job was done well. As far as other people go, they can go fly themselves if they think he needs constant pats on the back.
- Abrasive: Mikhail has a low, bordering on nonexistent, bullshit tolerance and a tendency to call it as he sees it - without mincing words. The idea of lying for politeness has not occurred to Mikhail. He tells people how he feels, and if that upsets them, then it upsets them. Mikhail learned how to fistfight ages ago, if someone punches them, Mikhail will kick them in the balls. That's how things work.
Impulsive: Mikhail rarely stops to think about his actions when he’s starting fights or cussing someone out. He lets his mouth run off before he thinks, and generally lets the consequences fall where they will. He doesn’t exactly deal well with punishment.
Sore Loser: When it comes to competition, Mikhail takes perceived unfairnesses pretty badly. He is an incredibly sore loser when it comes to what he sees as inequalities. If he's up against someone in a competition and he loses because he's genuinely not as skilled as the other person, then that's his own fault, and Mikhail accepts that relatively gracefully. But if it’s factors other than personal skill, expect a torrent of rage.
Anti-Authoritarian: Mikhail has...problems with authority. He has told his superiors to shove it before, has no problem cussing out anyone (if the Lord Holder got in his way, Mikhail would cuss out the Lord Holder), and generally doesn't have a filter. If his commander says something and the something is stupid, he's pretty likely to get nothing but a, "Go fly yourself!" in response.
Complainer: Mikhail doesn’t like most things – and he wants other people to know he doesn’t like them, either. He’s loud and relentless when he complains, and it’s something he does whether there’s someone around to listen or not. He seems to genuinely enjoy griping, even when it’s getting on the last nerves of the people around him – and he doesn’t care if it bothers other people.
As far as first impressions go, most people get the idea that at some point, the entire world offered Mikhail a personal offense, and he has yet to get over it. Mikhail goes into every day with his shoulders hunched, ready to start screaming at whatever new annoyance has come into his life. He's cynical, sarcastic, easily-annoyed, and, frankly, the sort of person who seems to enjoy the cathartic act of screaming his head off at someone or something. Doesn't matter if it's a person, a dragon, a wher, or a piece of leather, if it gets in Mikhail's way it will get screamed at. He's not afraid to fight dirty, and he's not afraid to start trouble. It makes him hard to work with. He doesn't really care. He's hardest on other people, but he takes his own failings very seriously as well, getting seriously frustrated when he can't do things he thinks he should be able to.
The ******** attitude isn't a constant thing, though. Mikhail is actually capable of settling down and having a good time. He's got a sarcastic sense of humor, and he's surprisingly book-smart for someone who never bothered studying anything meaningful. Mikhail likes reading, and would be surprisingly willing to sit down and chat with someone about books...if it weren't for the fact that he can't stand most people. There are a select few in Mikhail's life that he can handle, and it takes a long time for someone to move out of "I can't stand you get out" territory and into "I guess you aren't the worst thing that's ever happened to me" territory. He's not a positive man, and expects the worst of just about everyone. The abrasiveness and tendency to fly off the handle mean he's not approachable, but luckily, what he lacks is generally present in Mikhask. The blue wher is friendly enough for the pair of them, and when Mikhask enters a situation, Mikhail is significantly less likely to direct his anger at the people around him and significantly more likely to direct it at Mikhask while simultaneously apologizing for whatever it was that Mikhask just did.
He doesn't flirt. Flirting takes too much energy and people are stupid anyway. Mikhail is pretty much as far from romantic as you can get. People flirting with him will be met with derision, but he's surprisingly amenable to dinner invitations. Usually because it means he can mooch food off someone. He doesn't get serious with people, though. He's a wherhandler, and Mikhask takes up pretty much every waking minute of his time. He doesn't have the energy to expend any time, physical effort, or emotion on another living being.
His relationship with Mikhask is...complicated. Mikhail hates Mikhask. Mikhask is oblivious, blithe, completely untrainable, and just about the least useful animal in existence. Mikhask's existence makes every second of Mikhail's life hell. But at the same time, Mikhask is his wher, and Mikhask loves him. And as much as Mikhail grumbles and screams and cusses and hits him, somewhere deep down he really is fond of the little blue guy. Mikhail never wanted a wher, and the idea of having one of the huge awful human-eating sorts that needs constant training and is expected to go into battle? That's not really Mikhail's speed. At least with Mikhask, Mikhail never has to worry about his wher wandering off and eating kids. Mikhask wouldn't hurt a fly, and Mikhail likes it better that way. Not that he'd ever admit it out loud. When people are looking, Mikhail does everything he can to come off as cold and professional and uncaring and annoyed by Mikhask's stupidity. In private, though, Mikhask gets scritches and affection. Sometimes they wrestle. Sometimes Mikhail consents to sit still and read while Mikhask flops on him. And anyone who badmouths Mikhask gets Mikhail screaming in their face.
But that's not to say he doesn't think Mikhask is a sharding idiot. Because he is. He's just Mikhail's sharding idiot. Now shut up.
Other:
Wher
Name: Mikhask
Age: 2
Colour: Blue
Description: [Adult]
As far as whers go, Mikhask is honestly quite pretty. He's definitely not the squash-faced, toothy monster that some of his counterparts are. In fact, his muzzle is quite long, with a convex nose, enormous nostrils, and a mouth that turns up slightly at the end. Mikhask always looks like he's smiling pleasantly. He's on the small side for a blue, and there's no weight or bulk to back it up. Mikhask is skinny, with disproportionately long legs for his size. Lacking muscle tone and not particularly conditioned, he's narrow, with sloping shoulders, weak hindquarters, and conformation that generally implies he's never going to be particularly useful as a fighter. He makes up for it by being fast and maneuverable, balancing with aid from a long, whiplike tail.
Notably, he wears a thick, thick collar with his name stamped on it (he insisted on that). This can theoretically be clipped to a thick leather lead, which can theoretically tether Mikhask to things...but unless that thing is actually a solid wall....well, it's safe to assume that sometimes Mikhask wanders around dragging crates or carts or occasionally large poles. The inside of the collar, in barely-legible etching, reads, "If found, please return to Mikhail, bluehandler, Malvren."
Personality: Mikhask...tries hard. Presumably. This is more or less the most generous thing that can be said about him.
It's not necessarily that he's stupid, really. There are occasional glimmers in this wher that indicate that he's probably a little bit brighter than he lets on. It's just that....common sense is not something Mikhask is good at. Mikhask can get lost in a one-room building. Mikhask goes through the world with a sort of blithe abandon and disregard for consequences and his surroundings that regularly gets him into trouble. It's not that he's not smart so much as it is that...well, he's...really, really oblivious. Every thought that passes through Mikhask’s head seems like a good idea at the time. Mikhask really, genuinely believes that what he is doing is a good idea. He just...has no real conception of consequences. Cause and effect are lost on Mikhask. There's also no real way to control him. Regardless of Mikhail's orders, Mikhask will more or less do whatever he pleases. He has a bad tendency to wander off, frequently into bizarre or dangerous situations, and if it weren't for Mikhail running after him and grabbing him and hauling him off, he would probably walk off a cliff or into a gold's den.
He loves Mikhail. A lot. He really, really loves Mikhail. Mikhask follows his handler in a sort of sweet, quiet-natured, desperate puppydog way. He wants Mikhail's approval - or at the very least, he wants Mikhail to not be so mad at him all the time. Again, he tries. He tries really hard. But bringing dead things or pretty stones or really anything in large numbers to Mikhail generally only garners annoyance. But Mikhask isn't one to sulk (that might actually be outside of his emotional capacity). He just keeps trying. He might be a little sad after a particularly angry tirade from Mikhail, but it's not going to stop him from continuing right on attempting to make him happy. He's also remarkably physically affectionate, and will flop bonelessly on top of just about anyone, if the mood strikes him. Since he's a sharding wher, this can be a little much. Mikhail usually fixes it by hitting him until he goes away, but other people really generally just have to tell him to go away. Sometimes they have to do it several times, but usually Mikhask gets the picture. If he doesn't, try hitting him. It usually works.
Most whers are not particularly chatty, especially not with strangers. Mikhask is not most whers. He keeps up a constant stream of noise, both mental and physical, almost everywhere he goes. The out-loud sounds don't really indicate anything: little whistles and croons and chirps and growls, generally not sounds that have any particular meaning beyond letting everyone know where Mikhask is. Think of it like someone humming absently to themselves in the marketplace. Internally, though, Mikhask talks. A lot. He's not necessarily looking for feedback, but he is perfectly willing to narrate every thought that crosses his head, no matter how stupid or nonsensical. He strings words together in ways that mean next to nothing, and can be remarkably hard to understand. He's also inclined to get into other people's business, usually by shouting things at them or following them around and commentating everything. He doesn't have a filter, and doesn't always realize the "volume" of his voice - Mikhask has a tendency to broadcast to everyone around him. Human, wher, dragon, doesn't really matter. Mikhask just likes talking.
Of note - Mikhask has chased twice and lost both times. Neither time was something he had initially intended to do, and the second time he got confused mid-way through, ended up running after a handful of wherry feathers, and got himself stuck in a barrel.
Other: He means well. He really does.
