Age: 38
Sex: Male
Sexual Orientation: THE STRAIGHTEST MAN TO EVER STRAIGHT (gay)
Weyr: High Reaches Weyr
Rank: Wingrider
Previous Rank/Craft: N/A -- Resident Toady & Proud Sniveling Bootlicker
Physical Description: F'vel is a High Reaches native, and he looks the part. He has long, thick black hair that he often keeps braided and tied up. His skin is pale but a little bit ruddy; natural pink and reds tend to give him color when he's frustrated, upset, embarrassed. or feeling any strong emotion. His eyes are large, dark blue enough to almost look black, and he sports a few scars from scuffles in his youth. He stands about 5'10", and while he does have broad shoulders, he's a bit more trim and thin. Thick brows, usually some sort of stubble, and a glower that's known to turn into a sneer is his usual expression, though he's also known to show kinder sides to the right rider -- usually those of bronze or gold rank. He's serious, attractive in his own rugged way, and always looking to please those higher up.
Personality: F'vel is a yes man, through and through. This man was born to be a lackey, a sidekick, the comic relief. In every way this man is number one at always being number two, and that will never change. He's smart, but not necessarily smart enough to compete with the top of the class; he's clever enough to manage when a situation becomes sticky, but not enough to excel when the reigns of responsibility are foisted solely on him long term. He'd much rather someone else give him orders, set him in a direction, and take that extra ounce of responsibility; if someone else takes the first step toward danger he'll be right behind them!
F'vel's the sort of man who needs reassurance, but only of the superficial variety; extra confirmation here, or knowledge that this is indeed what needs to be done. He can think for himself in the spur of the moment, but F'vel would much prefer if someone wiser, and more clever, was there to help lead the way. He is entirely someone that wold be clearly in the support role; leave him without direction for too long and F'vel tends to get nervous, or suddenly a bit uncertain. But leave him with a plan, especially a plan signed off by a trusted Leader, and he'll do whatever he can to ensure his part gets done.
In that respect, F'vel is a good rider. When someone higher up gives him an assignment, he will pour his lifeblood into making sure it gets done. F'vel grew up understanding the chain of command, and he lives and breathes by it every day. He also expects everyone else beneath him to live and breathe by it, too. Impertinence and disrespect will not be tolerated, and he is quick to put others in their place if they start getting out of line.
This brownrider likes to hero-worship. He has looked up to the bronze and gold riders of the Weyr since he was a boy. Though he had always dreamed of impressing a bronze, he has slowly accepted his fate as that of a brownrider. He loves to watch their swagger, he believes they truly are without fault and flaw. They were chosen by the most clever and most powerful dragons in the clutches. Almost all Pern was created solely by bronze and gold riders. How could places like Western be so blind as to not see the natural order? Looking back in records, isn't it the gold and bronze riders that save Pern? Weren't Ramoth and Mnementh, Faranth and Carenath, Orlith and Holth, the saviors of Pern? Not to mention all the Weyrwomen and Weyrleaders and Wingleaders of old. And what do they have in common but metallic dragons!? It is a metallic riders destiny to become something great.... Chromatic riders, he knows, rarely make history.
The exception, of course, being F'nor and Canth.
F'vel has always had a dream to be as well regarded by a Wingleader, or better yet Weyrleader, like that Wingsecond pair. They knew their place, and they served well. With his brown in his life, he understood that was as far as he'd go.... but maybe, just maybe, that's okay.
This brownrider is definitely part of "the group". He tries to make friends only with other brown- or bronze riders. Blue and green riders, while he's cordial to them, and relatively polite, he seems to have no trouble using them when someone has to take the fall, or delegating tasks to them. That is their life's purpose. They are the foot soldier, the ones on the front line, and their numbers allow them to be a bit more expendable. There will always be more green riders to make up any lost in Thread. Honestly, if their riders were worth more, they would have Impressed to something far more prestigious. That doesn't mean he doesn't like them, nor does that mean he wants thYes, he is colorist, but he isn't necessary cold or cruel. Strict, bigoted, sure... and at this point in his life, he's likely ostracized himself from some of the green and blue riders that fellow brown and bronze riders are the only ones who might accept him. And even then, they usually are just ones part of "the group".
F'vel is loyal, and will happily take on any task asked of him, provided it comes from the top. There is no duty to small, or an ask too great, from those who rank him.
History: Fennivel was born and raised at High Reaches Weyr. His father was a green rider, much to his shame, and his mother had the gall to not Impress at all. So it was, Fennivel grew up a weyrbrat, but one who didn't necessarily see the good sides of the Weyr.
Some of his friends came from riders of more prestigious rank, and the young boy couldn't help but admire them, just like everyone else in the Weyr seemed to. He grew up with stars in his eyes, hoping that maybe, just maybe, he'd Impress a bronze. His circle of friends often included other boys and girls of prestigious rank, or at least whose parents held prestigious colors, and this rubbed off on Fennivel in the worst ways. As he aged, he began to realize where his parents stood -- and he in his own right -- stood. He didn't want to Impress a green. No, when Fennivel dreamed, he dreamed of glittering hide. He would be the son to break the mold!
While he did love his parents, his father was often busy with his green; and his mother busy with drudgery. This kept them away from Fennivel more often than not, and meant Fennivel grew up primarily in the creche. For the most part, he was a good child, but he had always been a bit too eager to please those with power, and more than a bit too concerned about rank and position. He might have had more friends if he'd not cared what others thought about him befriending certain group... and concerned himself less with what other could do for him!
As the Turns went on, his father became more and more of a humiliation to the rank-sensitive boy. His father often got in trouble with his Wingleaders for defending his green too loudly, or starting some sort of fight over his position. F'vel had a few friends who had ranking bronze rider fathers... and he feared that he would lose their precious friendship if his father's trouble hung over him. So, as he aged, he spent less and less time with his father, avoided his requests to see him or visit, and even began to talk poorly about him behind his back. Why wouldn't his father just hush up and accept his lot. Why would he continue to deviate from the expectations of the Weyr? It wasn't as if the Weyr treated him terribly -- was it so important for his father to rise up and cause such public scenes?
Surely, his father was a fool, and F'vel tried hard to break away from any association with him. He was not like his father. He would not be trouble. There were ranks born and bred into the blood of the dragon -- was it so wrong to follow that natural hierarchy? So intent on getting in with the sons and daughters of the upper ups, and finding prestige among the lot of them, he turned on his family, and lost any loyalty he felt for them. They were embarrassments, and spoiled F'vel wanted something more out of life then they could provide.
Thankfully, F'vel did not have to worry about his shameful father for too long. No, when the young man was 11 Turns old, his father eventually got kicked out -- much to his shame and humiliation. On the one hand, the young man was devastated -- what would this do to his reputation. He already knew his father had been nothing but trouble, and now he'd been kicked out. His mother wound up going with his father to Western Weyr, and though they took his two smaller brothers, F'vel refused to go with. He was staying at High Reaches.
The Turn's passed, and at Turn 14 he stood for his first clutch. He did not Impress, but that was just fine for him. To get the perfect bronze would take time. . . Except, the dragon that found him was not a bronze. At Turn 16 he Impressed a brown -- which was both a delight and a disappointment. Yezmanth understood, though. The brown couldn't help but promise F'vel that he would help him achieve his goals -- and they could both admire the gorgeous bronzes of the Weyr. Though the brown was sorry for not being the sort of dragon F'vel dreamed of, he promised to make up for it, and be the best brown to ever brown.
They would become Wingsecond's one day, just like F'nor and Canth, and serve the bronze and gold riders of the Weyr to the best of their ability.
Honestly, Yezmanth and F'vel were a perfect match. He finally felt a connection with another who understood him perfectly -- the way the Weyr should run, his place in the Weyr (which, if he were perfectly honest with himself, being a brown rider relieved him of some responsibility he had feared obtaining) and a dragon's true calling. Yezmanth understood everything about F'vel, from his concerns about what others thought of him, and his absolute love of the traditional strong, intelligent, clever, bronze rider. To say both Yezmanth and F'vel were obsessed was an under statement -- no, Impression only made F'vel's desires worse, for now he had a brown dragon to back up his beliefs.
For Turn's, F'vel and Yezmanth became cogs in the wheel. They were particularly smitten with their fellow clutch bronze riders, and did their best to befriend them. They were hard workers, but did tend to have attitudes around those of "lesser" colors, or around those who had no dragons at all! F'vel fell into the same sort of circles he ran with as a child -- those who were prestigious and wore their rank proudly and loudly.
Though he is nothing more than a toady, F'vel likes to think his friends like him for more than his ability to be a yes-man. Surely, he does good work getting them what they want; and to be sure, F'vel has some "friends" who use him just as they might use anyone else beneath them. So long as they are of bronze or gold rank, he doesn't mind, and takes it all in stride. He has such an unhealthy relationship with some of his fellow weyrfolk, that he wouldn't know a sincere friendship if it walked up and hit him.
He's not a particularly popular brown rider, though no wing can say a word against his work ethic.
Other: He may or may not be painfully in love with some of the bronze riders of the Weyr. (Possibly K'ienn? Z'tir? D'mon? Y'mar? Be still his beating heart.) Not that he'd ever admit it. Nope. Nada. Nothing to see here.
DRAGON
Name: Yezmanth
Age: 22
Color: Brown
Size: 37'
Physical Description:
Personality: Yezmanth is just like his rider -- in love with all the metallics of the Weyr, and certain greens and blues are only meant to be useful however the other dragons of the Weyr need them to be. That said, he is a squish sort of brown -- he rolls over as soon as a bronze or gold looks even a smidgen irate, and tends to make a good scapegoat for those who need a scratching post. He gets along best with some of his fellow browns, though he also has no trouble looking down his pretty snout at browns who have delusions of grandeur or squawk about equality, blah, blah, blah. Yezmanth is a yesman all the way through, and while he has dreams of someday being tapped into a Wing as a Wingsecond, he will happily serve until that day comes. He follows the bronzes of the Weyr around with a secret love sickness, and only chases the golds of junior weyrwomen -- he would never, ever try for a Senior Queen, or even that of a Weyrwoman Second! Mostly, though, he tends to chase greens, and secretly aches for the attention of a proud bronze
Like his rider, he understands his place. He doesn't begrudge F'vel for desiring a bronze, even as he himself wishes he could have been graced with a little sparkle and shine. At the end of the day, though, Yezmanth is happy with his position -- being brown is perfect.
