Age: 33
Sex: Female
Sexual Orientation: Bisexual
Weyr: Originally High Reaches Weyr, currently Weyrless
Rider Rank: Explorer/Mercenary
Previous Rank/Craft: Hired guard, bit work, general drudgery
Positive Trait List Creative, fearless, unfailingly loyal
Negative Trait List Self-absorbed, reckless, proud, combative
Physical Description: Is’men is a stick of a woman, thin and wiry and just a touch malnourished. A hard, active life and slim food rations have stripped just about every inch of 'soft' from her body, though a hint of femininity has survived in small breasts and the ghost of hips. Taller than most women and composed entirely of slim muscles, Is’men packs a wallop and is more than capable of holding her own in a scrap, for all that she weighs about half as much as her usual opponents. She is quick and flexible and moves with the fluid grace of a jungle cat, each step confident and powerful and poised.
Is’men has olive skin and light brown, almond eyes set in a heart-shaped face. Her head is kept impeccably shaven, and her hair (which should be a dull brown) rarely manages more than a prickly fuzz over her skull before she trims it away again. Her excuses for this "style" vary as wildly as her tales of her origins, but the truth probably has something to do with the sizeable knot of a scar to the back and right of her skull, which tails into a point behind her ear. Is’men moves through life in loose riding gear and oiled leather body armor and values the heft this attire adds to her appearance as much as the protection it provides.
Personality: Is’men is loud, cocky, opinionated, and unbelievably stubborn. She is not a compassionate person, has little need for the emotional well-being of others, and even her dearest friends are likely to be met with jarring words of get-up-and-deal-with-it on their down days. Is’men calls things as she sees them, with little regard for who they might upset or offend. If the sissy couldn't handle it, he should toughen up and is better for it. She is a drama-whore and a living troll; if life is dull, she finds a way to make it more interesting. Is’men can't just walk into a room; she saunters in and turns it upside-down. Any attention is good attention, and life can always be more exciting. Is’men takes what she wants when she wants it, and the eyes of a crowd are no exception.
She's a teller of tales, and man, does she have some whoppers. Is’men is always quick to supplement her own experiences with fanciful lies in the retellings. With the unconventional hobbies and habits she maintains, it can be very difficult to tell which of her stories have actually occurred and which Is’men is only hoping will occur. She's an adventurer and a daredevil, always up for a dare or a challenge. She enjoys the road less traveled and goes out of her way to find new experiences. Is’men never takes the same path twice, and is somewhat unreliable for it. Why walk around the block when she could go over the rooftop? Agile and athletic, she is always climbing or tumbling or leaping off of something.
It is no great surprise, then, that most attempts to sit her down and drill an education into her skull have met with only frustration for both teacher and student. Is’men is a smart girl--not brilliant, but capable--but to this day remains largely illiterate despite the best efforts of several tutors. She is undoubtedly dyslexic; Is’men has a fair vocabulary and can usually get her point across in her own heavily-phonetic writing, but reading all but the simplest of words is a serious chore. This is a sore point and has led to Is’men viewing the extensively-educated with bitterness and distrust.
She does not--and probably will not ever--understand the value in a good day's labor. She is not a lazy person. Indeed, it can be difficult to stop her from moving. She simply feels that most socially-regulated chores are largely unnecessary, and why should she waste her time on them when she can manage perfectly well without them? Restless soul that she is, however, she will accomplish what's asked of her provided that at least one of four conditions are met: a) she can be convinced of the necessity of the task; b) the task is of greater interest than whatever else she might be doing at the time; c) there’s a huge payout; or d) the request (or instruction) comes from someone who she deeply respects.
Respect does not come quickly with this girl. 'Authority issues' might be something of an understatement. Is’men will not, under any circumstances, follow the instruction of a superior just because that person has been appointed to a position above her. Oh, sure, she may follow the petty orders because they make sense, but she'll be quick to voice her own opinions on the matter and--did you just take a tone with her? Actions speak much, much louder than words where Is’men is concerned, and results buy loyalty--eventually.
Once won, her loyalty is unwavering and does not fade. Her leader could slaughter a minor holding and eat a bag of kittens and Is’men would blindly insist that his mission was well-meant. (The hold was harboring a drug trad, perhaps, and the kittens were actually trained assassins and would have killed them all in their sleep! That he ate them, well...He was being practical, conserving resources.) This loyalty extends to her circle of friends, but the blindness is not so quick to accompany it. Is’men will be quick to admit when a friend is making terrible choices and may even call him a numbwit herself, but she won't abandon his side for it. She's possessive of people; once she's taken someone under her wing--or been sheltered under someone else's--that person is tied to her, and she is not quick to surrender that bond.
This possessive loyalty settles people into something of a 'hierarchy of friendship' in Is’men's mind. It's common knowledge that Is’men will fight with anything that moves; this most certainly includes her friends. Mess with someone higher on the hierarchy than you, and Is’men will take you out. Mess with Is’men herself and your a** is grass. She is proud, very proud, with a short fuse that can only be settled explosively, but she is not so proud that she will not admit defeat when it occurs. Is’men knows when she's been whipped--and, likewise, knows when to ease up on her opponent before his own stubbornness carries a fight too far. In the end, a thrashing on either side often solves a great deal, and forgiveness comes quickly. A fight will never override a friendship, where Is’men is concerned.
Beneath all of the brawn and bluster, there's a young woman hiding somewhere. And not hiding particularly well. Is’men definitely has her feminine side and embraces it gladly as her life allows. She's fond of soft and silky and shiny, enjoys being pampered and spoiled. Gather gowns are admired with no little amount of envy. The opportunity to doll herself up would be wholehearted embraced. She's vain, in a practical way, and very fond of her own appearance. Opportunities to flaunt it are always indulged in, and any teasing from her peers that may accompany a makeover is returned good-naturedly. Is’men likes to enjoy herself, and when she's gotten it into her mind that she's going to do just that, very little can distract her for long. That's all she wants out of life, really, no major request: To see everything, to do everything, and to enjoy every moment of it.
History: Is’men is the eldest daughter of the young Lord Holder of Ista, his pride and joy and, once, his heir. In a tragic twist of fate, she was shipwrecked during a lengthy sea voyage to visit her dear uncle Rolfando at his stake in coastal Ruatha. For days she was tossed about by the angry ocean, clinging to shipfish--no, huge, aquatic trundlebugs for her very life, until a wayward beam from the decimated ship struck her over the head and she blacked out! ("But, you must've been days from the ship by the--" "Who's tellin' tha story, you'r me?") Her poor, tiny, storm-ravaged body was flung from wave to wave--("What happened to the trundlebu--"WHAP)--until, suddenly, the clouds opened up and, half-drowned, she was rescued by a trading vessel en route for Southern Boll. The rest, as they say, is history.
Ish. The story varies wildly with each retelling and, most often, is completely different from the story before. Is’men spent her youth traveling with a band of traders until her very own auntie sold her off as a personal slave in Bitra, or she was abandoned in the Telgar forests as a baby and raised by wild felines. Whatever the true story is, the world will never hear it from her lips. In reality, the early years were far from spectacular. A little, ancient cothold whose veins had nearly run dry, desperately attempting to remain competitive among the rough Nabolese mines; a large family, a tussle of older brothers; inattentive parents caught up in the burdens of debt then fracturing to poverty and shame and drink. Lives were hard and sharp and brief, and were stolen away by dust-blackened lungs or tunnel collapses before one’s children were grown. By the age of eight, the young Isemena had come to recognize the bleak future laid out for her; by ten, she had found her way out.
He was an older gentleman, a greenrider by Impression, silvery-grey and gruff. His dragon, a bland, grayed forest green, was stocky and square; she was not a pretty beast, and he was not a handsome man, but they fit each other very well, and they were happy. He was an independent agent, largely a courier, whose business dealings carried him between the debt-holding Nabol proper and the little hill holds that served it. As one of the few visitors to Isemena’s little hold, he immediately became the focus of fascination and, soon, obsession. The little girl had an uncanny knack for appearing as if from between only moments after he and his green had landed. She would follow him doggedly, skirting chores to pepper him with questions about his travels and wild stories about her own, imagined ones. To the unending bemusement of the greenrider, she would occasionally offer him little, childish gifts of flower crowns and shiny pebbles, as if he were a dear crush—and one day, she finally popped the question: Could she be his apprentice?
She made a strong case—well, a pathetic little sight. Regardless, his beloved green, heart aflutter, had wholeheartedly accepted the proposal before he could blink, and then there was no defeating the pair of them. Thus followed negotiations with the parents—grateful for one less mouth, reluctant for one lost worker, concerned for slimy ulterior motives, hopeful for a better future for their child, and distracted, distracted, distracted. A bargain was struck, and at the tender age of ten turns Isemena became a Dragonrider’s apprentice. The rider had treated her like an adult from the moment he met her and was more than happy to let her take care of herself where she could, and Isemena liked that about him; she liked to think of herself as Adult and Capable and Independent. The greenrider was never a father to her, but gradually, very gradually, he became a friend.
The years wound by with Isemena first a not-so-silent shadow, then a more and more competent assistant, then—to the greenrider’s grumbling disapprovals—to something of a smuggler in her own right. Morals lost to the youth and excitement of her ever-changing life, Isemena, ferried by the nomadic life of her greenrider, garnered a reputation for being able to acquire whatever a buyer might want if the price was high enough, especially if that buyer traded in information. Frivolous games of slight-of-hand around campfires became pickpocketing, then catburglary. Hunting for nightly meals escalated to clacking wooden swords, then real ones. Isemena was quick and slim and acrobatic, able to climb anything in two beats and tuck herself away in nooks that no grown adult could hope to hide in. She was a decent enough spy for short-term watches, even better when it came to stealing maps and documented trade schedules--and escaping over the rooftops with them on the occasions when she was discovered. Fear was a thrill and a successful theft had a flavor all its own; Is’men loved the life, for all that the risks surrounding it evaded her sensibilities.
When she was nineteen, these risks caught up with her when a deal gone bad resulted in the death of her greenriding companion and his devoted green. Isemena felt the loss keenly—and shortly thereafter even more so, for she had lost not only her friends but her way of life. A series of trades, bribes, and swindles saw her back to Nabol proper, but without the reliable transport of her green sister, Isemena’s old business dealings could not be sustained. She found some success in the “information business” and supplemented with bit work when she could, until at 21 she was among those hired to escort a trading caravan between Nabol and High Reaches, with a brief stopover at the Weyr.
Brief became short-term when, upon the invitation of a very pushy brown dragon, Isemena broke contract to Stand for an upcoming Hatching, then long-term when her wager was rewarded by the arrival of a boisterous brick of a blue into her life, then life-in-prison as blue and rider raged against the confines of Weyrlinghood and the strict social order of High Reaches Weyr. Out of sheer spite, she took the honorific of Is’men halfway into her first turn of weyrlinghood and refused to respond to anything else. By the end of that same turn, she and Ingenith were relegated indefinitely to latrine duty as the Weyrlingmaster scrambled to control behavior that fluctuated from lackadaisical to combative to openly insubordinate and malicious. The pair graduated—or were graduated as the Weyrlingmaster washed his hands of them—and left High Reaches the very next day.
In the turns since, Is’men has rekindled her connections and improved upon her art, and she and Ingenith are well known to the blacker markets of Pern, if always greeted with some caution. She has also reconnected with many other riders who have fled the weyr, including goldrider Aishe, a friend of her High Reaches turns and graduate of her own weyrling class who occasionally employs Is’men and Ingenith as extra muscle. She does not live to excess and, as far as anyone knows, has no permanent residence, instead trading to sustain the travels and adventures that make up her days with her bold blue. Buy her a drink, and she’ll tell you all about them.
Other: Serious sweet tooth, easily persuaded by candy.
DRAGON
Name: Ingenith
Age: 12 (Eveleth x Thistreth, HR 3562)
Color: Blue
Size: 24’, but a heavyweight.
Physical Description: Ingenith is huge! No, he just thinks he is, and that's probably enough. As a cruel twist of nature, this fighter is actually incredibly small in stature, and will always be that way. Built like a brick, he is stocky, with thick legs, a thick tail, a thick neck, and muscle like you wouldn't believe. He is not at all a particularly dexterous blue, but he makes up for that with pure power and stamina. Watch out world, Ingenith will crush you.
Personality: (Originally written by Uta for Sands of Pern, with minor modifications to accommodate new setting/increased age.)
“With confidence, you have won before you have started."
Keeping Ingenith out of trouble is about as easy as keeping water in a sieve. There is a great amount of spirit within this blue and he is drawn towards excitement and adventure. Ingenith is a guaranteed handful. If this blue is not underfoot and seeking adventure and glory, then he is likely stirring trouble simply because he can. This is a dragon who does not like to be bored. He is in constant need of stimulation -- both mentally and physically. The true trouble begins when nothing piques his interest; if he is not given entertainment or adventure, then he will simply have to go out and find it himself.
Unfortunately, what was harmless enough behavior when young tends towards incredibly troublesome as an adult. What do you mean he can't take on all of High Reaches in a show of force? What do you mean he should not try to play hero if Thread falls again? Why can't he try to catch that Queen by his great cunning and surprise her near the end? What do you mean hunting wild whers and felines is not a good idea? To be sure, Ingenith does not shy away by the thought of danger. Especially if he's certain a crowd may be near to witness such a show of force.
Thankfully -- or unfortunately -- Ingenith is an intelligent beast. Incredibly clever--this is part of the reason he gets in to so much trouble! He does not worry about the consequences of his actions, because he has bought in entirely to the belief that he can just as easily get them out of any sticky circumstances. He is strong enough to fight and crush his foes, just as he is clever enough to figure out the most difficult of problems.
Ingenith is not, and will not, be easily intimidated or afraid. . . or talked down.
Is not a more perfect specimen alive? That's right, this blue is rather much in love with himself. He has no problem talking about his perfections, everything he can do. He is wonderful, and if you do not see it, well, he will show you. And if you still do not agree with how wonderful he is? He will spurn you and write you off. That's right, this dragon is highly narcissistic. He enjoys the admiration of others, and certainly keeps those that affirm his wonderfulness nearby. There is nothing one can ask him that he does not know, just as there is nothing he can't do if given some time. His accomplishments are many, and he will be the first to tell you all about them. He is the best, hard stop. His clutch mates, his wing, his Weyr, Pern in general should be proud that they are blessed with such a wonderful creature as he.
Unfortunately, this blue can find himself rather dissatisfied with the results of his endeavors and relationships. Many times his adventures do not turn out as glory-filled as he believed, or his relationships with others do not give him the sort of rapport he desires and craves. Once he's written himself off from a particular task or individual, he will need a lot of encouragement, persuasion, and ego-petting for the blue to agree to fulfill the task, or work civilly with the individual in question.
This has caused problems with leadership, in the Weyr and since. If Ingenith does not believe he is getting the proper consideration and rank he deserves, he is much less inclined to follow direction. If he does not care for designated leaders, he will be especially obstinate and disregard their “opinions”. What do they know, anyway? Clearly he should prove that he was (and is) far superior.
Ingenith enjoys Flights. Any Flight, all Flights, this blue finds it very difficult to abstain from participating. What better way to show off his amazingness than through such feats of strength and cunning? Gold, green, he has little objections. Ingenith has only one goal in mind -- the win. Unfortunately though, unless a green is particularly doting upon his ego, he will likely soon grow bored. He is not the sort to settle permanently and would prefer to have an entire wing of greens in his company, rightfully admiring his sort of wonderful.
Positive Trait List Proud, cunning, physically strong, adventurous
Negative Trait List Narcissistic, easily bored and dissatisfied, self-important
Why Is’men?: It's true that any attention is good attention, and life can always be more exciting -- especially now that Ingenith is in Is’men's life! Oh yes, this blue has claimed Is’men and together, they are going to have a wild time! There is an entire world to explore, and Ingenith will demand much of Is’men's time discovering it. He will be an incredibly demanding and arrogant blue, but Is’men will hopefully but strong willed enough to put her foot down when Ingenith decides to put himself in harms way. He will adore Is’men's stories -- and confirm every one as truth to any nay sayers-- and will find a great love in turning Pern upside down together, especially once they can fly! Is’men will have someone to help keep life fun, a partner who will never betray her trust, will understand her wants and desires as well as stroke her ego..so long as she strokes his. Who needs to follow orders when they can do what they want, when they want, together forever! Putting the two of them together will be much like putting kerosene with fire, so Pern had better watch out!
Dragon Art or Proof of Obtainment:
Inspiration: Hercules was the Roman name for the greatest hero of Greek mythology -- Heracles. Like most authentic heroes, Heracles had a god as one of his parents, being the son of the supreme deity Zeus and a mortal woman. Zeus's queen Hera was jealous of Heracles, and when he was still an infant she sent two snakes to kill him in his crib. Heracles was found prattling delighted baby talk, a strangled serpent in each hand.
When he had come of age and already proved himself an unerring marksman with a bow and arrow, a champion wrestler and the possessor of superhuman strength, Heracles was driven mad by Hera. In a frenzy, he killed his own children. To atone for this crime, he was sentenced to perform a series of tasks, or "Labors", for his cousin Eurystheus, the king of Tiryns and Mycenae. By rights, Hercules should have been king himself, but Hera had tricked her husband Zeus into crowning Eurystheus instead.
The Labors were as follows, of which he did succeed in completing.
1. Slay the Nemean Lion.
2. Slay the nine-headed Lernaean Hydra.
3. Capture the Golden Hind of Artemis.
4. Capture the Erymanthian Boar.
5. Clean the Augean stables in a single day.
6. Slay the Stymphalian Birds.
7. Capture the Cretan Bull.
8. Steal the Mares of Diomedes.
9. Obtain the girdle of Hippolyta, Queen of the Amazons.
10. Obtain the cattle of the monster Geryon.
11. Steal the apples of the Hesperides.
12. Capture and bring back Cerberus.
Heracles had a great many other adventures, in after years as well as in between his Labors. It was poisonous Hydra venom that eventually brought about his demise. He had allowed a centaur to ferry his wife Deianara across a river, and the centaur had attacked her on the other side. Heracles killed him with an arrow, but before he died he told Deinara to keep some of his blood for a love potion. Deinara used some on Heracles' tunic to keep him faithful, little realizing that it had been poisoned with Hydra venom from the arrow. Heracles donned the tunic and died in agony.
Heracles was the only hero to become a full-fledged god upon his demise, but even in his case there was his mortal aspect to be dealt with. By virtue of his spectacular achievements, even by heroic standards, he was given a home on Mount Olympus and a goddess for a wife. But part of him had come not from his father Zeus but from his mortal mother Alcmene, and that part was sent to the Underworld. As a phantasm it eternally roams the Elysian Fields in the company of other heroes.
Origin of Name: Alpha Herculis (α Her, α Herculis) is a multiple star system in the constellation Hercules. It has the traditional name Rasalgethi or Ras Algethi and the Flamsteed designation 64 Herculis.
The traditional name "Head" comes from the fact that in antiquity Hercules was depicted upside down on the constellation maps.
The term Ras al Djathi was appeared in the catalogue of stars in the Calendarium of Al Achsasi al Mouakket, which was translated into Latin as Caput Ingeniculi.
The star is a supergiant, which means that it's much larger and brighter than the Sun. In fact, if Alpha Herculis were at the center of the solar system, it would swallow Mercury, Venus, Earth, and Mars.
Alpha Herculis emits 500 times more visible light than the Sun does. As a result, you can see it with the unaided eye, even though it's about 360 light-years away.
Actually, this star is even more powerful than it looks. That's because the star is fairly cool, so it produces most of its radiation in the form of infrared energy, not visible light.
Alpha Herculis was once powered by the same process that powers the Sun. It "fused" together hydrogen atoms in its core to make heavier helium atoms. But it's used up the hydrogen, so today it's fusing together the helium to make even heavier elements. The change in the star's core set off a sequence of events that caused the star to expand and cool, making it the red supergiant we see today.
