Welcome to my journal, people! I anticipate eventually adding lots and lots of things to this, and I hope you find it an easy-to-navigate, informative guide to my characters!
As far as info goes, each character will have their info sheet copied here once they are made, and will receive tweaks and updates as events come and go. Riders will share a single post with their dragons (because I don't want to have to keep moving posts around) and their banner will be updated too!
On the topic of banners, obviously they will list a character's name and rank, but also location! The background of the banner should shift to reflect if the character resides at Western (green and gold cloudy bg) or High Reaches (windy icy blue bg), or even are holdless (reddish canyons), though that info will also be listed in their profile too, of course.
Please note that the 'Family' section of each profile is strictly IC thoughts and feelings, and in no way is or will be altered by any OOC friendships, and shouldn't be taken personally. Characters listed in red are deceased. Characters listed in gold are PCs. Characters listed in blue are open to adoption. Characters listed in black are NPCs.
**Characters open to adoption are 99% of the time also open to having a name change, so feel free to talk to me about that if you wanna assume the role of one!
For those characters marked 'inactive', they are NOT dead, or slated to die. They are simply not my focus right now. All their plots and pairings are presumed to be preserved and ongoing, but not a major focus right now. If you want to play with one of them, talk to me, and we'll see if it's doable. Having so many characters just means I cannot focus on the mall at once, and rather than play none, I am trying to focus on those I have most muse for just now.
This character is currently inactive. Name: D'mar (from Dolmar) Age: 21 turns Sex: Male Sexual Orientation: Bisexual (he's 100% sure he's heterosexual though) Craft: Courtesan-craft (diplomacy, spycraft; journeyman rank) Rank: Wingrider (Flames Fury Wing) Location: Western Weyr Nameday: 3555.11.04 AL Voice Sample: (•) - Male Wizard, Diablo III Significant Other: None—available. SRGH/????
Physical Description: D'mar is tall and thin, but somehow manages not to look underfed—he is simply at that awkward stage of growth where his body doesn't quite fit together right, and hasn't filled out enough to make the odd size of his limbs seem more sensible. His build, along with his olive-green eyes, mirrored his younger twin's, though there ended the extent of their identicality. In truth they were identical twins, but where Marinel's hair was long, D'mar's taupe-brown locks have been culled, cropped short, and left as barely more than a peach-fuzz of stubble to cap his skull. Marinel was often dirty, scuffed, and tanned from long days roaming in the sunshine; D'mar is upstanding, clean-cut, and (noticeably) paler due to his more reserved, indoors-centric nature. Even if they ever did wear their hair and clothing the same, the twins would still be instantly able to be told apart—Marinel was the perpetually cheerful one, smiling brightly, and D'mar seems to have a constantly displeased expression: an unenjoyable mix of bored, tired, and vaguely nauseated.
D'mar is already creeping past the 6' mark, and is destined to be exceptionally tall once fully grown. Eventually the awkwardness of his limbs will depart, and in its place will be found a strutting confidence; the young man will very much delight in being able to look down his (rather long) nose at others. His whip-thin brows dash fiercely over his eyes, markedly crooked down in a nearly permanent scowl, and are a darker black-brown than his hair. His face is a curious mix that combines still-clinging baby fat and what is soon to be a rather angular, slanted countenance—such mixes are not uncommon in his age-group, but the dramatic differences in where his face is coming form and going to make it seem that much more obvious.
Following the hatching of Vimiath's clutch in 3573.12, and a severe mauling by a hatchling, the young man looks...a healthy bit rougher. Vicious claw marks peek out thought the collar of his shirt, and a few dash down his left arm as low as the elbow. Most of his chest bears scars, and one or two stand out on his hips and upper thighs. Perhaps the worst, or at least the most notable, however, are a number of diagonal scars on his face and head. Raking around the dome of his skull through his short hair, what are clearly gouged from teeth wrap above his left ear and down dangerously close to his left eye. Smaller slices dot his right cheek, down towards his jaw—a reminder of how close he came to having his face literally eaten by a dragon.
Personality: Cleverness, wit, and confidence all mixed well and wrapped in an unfortunately bitter shell of pride and flimsy morals make up the core of D'mar's being. He was raised well (read: wealthy), and had the best education his hold could offer, even before he got into Courtesan-craft Hall. This instilled in him a sense of superiority, of knowing more than his peers, of being outright better than them. He's been prepared all his life to take over his father's role, and known that no one else would do, because no one else could do. Wish a sharp (but critical) eye, a keen mind, and the drive to do everything he put his hand to not just well, but well enough to stand out, he has never, ever been one to leave things half done.
He was born with the ugly gift for being able to give someone a compliment that manages to both sound genuine and scathing at once, and the social cleverness to know how and when and what to say. Always looking down upon, but brilliant at feigning loyalty and respect for those above him. Those skills in particular have kept him both alive and in control of his immediate future since thread's return; his ego and sense of self-worth thriving in the face of challenges met.
What little genuine love he possesses is deeply hidden beneath a veil of distaste and exasperation. It is (or was) reserved for his younger twin and less so for his father. The rare instances he can be found being comforting, encouraging, or generous are all centered around his family...and similarly all are laced with words of displeasure or scolding or sighs, and even a few of the exalting (though false) praises he dishes out for the rest of the world. For the rest of humanity he has little time or care to spend. The majority of them aren't worth note, and those that are seem more suited to being trod underfoot as he presses himself upwards on the ladder of life.
He is willing to do nigh anything to keep himself and his brother (and father to an extent) in comfort and security, though he has yet to perpetrate anything entirely dastardly. Given the choice of an honorable means of making ends meet and a less-than-honorable route, he will nine times out of ten pick the honorable one, if only to be sure that in the eyes of those who might be watching he can be said to be clean. When no one is around to see, the choice becomes less certain. Which will yield greatest profit? Which is the more pleasant road to walk down? Does the dishonorable path involve making misery for those who, for whatever reason, have wronged him? As long as no one knows about the things he does and would do, he is just as likely to dabble in the dark underbelly of life as rise above it.
He is at times petulant, and once given any level of power, he is prone to using it as he sees fit, regardless of the opinions of others. After all, if they knew so much, why was he given the job and not them? No, the power is his, and his to use. And if some people get hurt in the process, well, he's always been apt at covering his tracks with misdirected blame and reasoning that seems sound...
Altogether he is an unsavory, immoral young man, with only the memory of his love for his family and genuine skill at getting things done and done well to redeem him.
History: D'mar and Marinel were originally sons of a prominent family-head in a minor hold of Telgar, of no real importance or renown. To Pern they were essentially no one, but in their own little world they were used to being, if not looked up to, at least known. Life seemed well and in order, and D'mar aspired to take over for his father once he was old enough. Marinel...Marinel could do whatever he liked, since D'mar was certain there was no chance of his kind, if reckless and childish twin usurping his place. Everything was well and proper...until thread returned.
The already small hold was laid utterly barren. It had been a recent construction, more wood than stone, and no one had expected silver death to come streaming from the sky. Probably one or two (un)lucky ones survived the threading, but they went on to later die of exposure in the wilds, or managed to make it to the next nearest hold, only to find it similarly obliterated.
D'mar had begun training under a local journeyman some turns prior, and in preparation to be the best version of himself possible to take over for his father, he talked (or paid, or both) the journeyman into procuring him a spot at the Courtesan Hall. Half a world away and under the jurisdiction of Western Hold, he left his twin, his family behind without a look back. In truth he was a clever, apt student, and utterly devoted to improving himself and networking with those other sons and daughters of prominence in his classes—at least, those sons and daughters devoting themselves to respectable studies, unlike the frivolous perfumers and designers—until the world fell out from under their combined feet.
In the end, he lost no more or less than anyone else, he told himself. Thread fell about a month before he'd suspected he'd be ready to become a journeyman. It took about as long for him to find out what he already knew—that his family, entirely, was gone—and by then thread had come to Western, and with the ravages of their own home and Hold and Hall, that news never really sunk in. He became somewhat quieter for a while, restraining his usually barbed tongue not because of his own pain, but out of grudging respect for his fellow crafters that more keenly felt their losses. Lingering dark circles under his eyes were the only proof of his own mute trauma when he finally joined the ranks of journeyman nearly seven months later.
Exactly one sevenday later he was searched, and after another sevenday of deliberation, he put his back to the Hall to try his luck on the sands. Most people thought he felt the urge to prevent what'd happened to him from happening to anyone else. A few closer confidantes quietly realized that with his family, his history wiped out, even as a journeyman crafter he would be hard-pressed to rebuild the sort of prestigious, comfortable life he'd come to expect and anticipate, and so had looked elsewhere...
Other: He's fantastic with facts and figures, and has good clean handwriting. He had a great head for politics, but he's been so internally shaken up this last turn that he hasn't really paid close attention to news and gossip or anything aside from just surviving, really.
Name: Strigonth Age: 4 Turns Color: Blue Size: 52' Sexuality: Bisexual Hatching day: 3573.12.12 AL Voice Sample: (•) - Kel'thuzad, World of Warcraft/Heroes of the Storm Significant Other: None—available.
Physical Description: Strigonth is more graceful than bulky. He's lithe and as swift on the ground as he is on wing. He isn't as weak or frail as some might assume, and enjoys flying at night the best. Strigonth is interested in both males and females, so long as they know he's the one in charge.
Personality: Strigonth is the sort of blue that instantly draws the eye. He is the dragon who oozes confidence, and one can't help but be drawn to him. This isn't because of his looks -- though he knows he's quite the stunning catch -- but because of his personality. Every step he takes is the right one; every move he makes commands the eye. Even as a Hatchling, this blue will know how to impress a crowd -- the ladies want to know him, and the males want to be him.
Thankfully, Strigonth will be happy to oblige. There's more than enough of him to go around, thank you. Yes, this dragon is he is self-assured and confident. He knows his strengths as well as his weaknesses, and has too much charm to become arrogant. Just because he knows he's a fine dragon doesn't mean he has to flaunt it in others faces -- how rude! No, Strigonth is too polite and seemingly considerate of others to have such imperfections of character. No, much to the irritation of his enemies, Strigonth truly is a gentleman. He doesn't have to flaunt himself like some of his siblings; he doesn't have to shove power and grab for command like Illiandinth or Hessianth. No, Strigonth is too considerate to be so rude.
Call him old fashioned, because he is. He will always treat ladies delicately, no matter their color. They are meant to be cared for, and their place is to be treasured, and perhaps used...but only by him. If a lady is in need, Strigonth will happily sweep in and offer comfort, and might cry insult at those who did her wrong. He is happy to be her hero, even if it's all a ruse. Men will be treated more cordially, but those he finds garish, rude, or insulting ill likely be spurned. He has no time for brutes and monsters... Even as he himself is such a monster.
Yes, do not be fooled by Strigonth's charms, as many will be. This blue has no problem playing victim or hero to get what he wants; and that includes being the very monster he knows himself to be! He knows how to manipulate others so they might do what he asks or needs, and give him the lifestyle he and his rider deserve. When his manipulation doesn't work, or someone stands their ground and refuses to give in, Strigonth is known to take a more forceful and commanding air. He will get what he wants, and he knows well how to tap into the hissing beast and get physical. If charm won't do it, then threats will. And rest assured, Strigonth knows how to threaten without making a scene. You will do what he wants, one way or another.
He is no queen, but weaker willed chromatics might be swayed to do his bidding.
Pros: Charming, Self-Assured, Popular Cons: Manipulative, Old-Fashioned, Commanding
Threadfall Stats: HP: 26/26 Status Effect: None. XP: Target Accuracy: 6 Flame Length: 3 General Stamina: 6 General Agility: 6 Between Accuracy: 5 Pain Resilience: 5 Instinct: 4 Luck: 2
Flight History:
Shelled 3573.12.12 Able to chase 3574.07.12 Record: 0/0 wins
Additional Notes:
Origin of Name: Strigonth's name comes from the Romanian equialent to a vampire, the strigoi. In one of the first documented cases of alleged vampirism, back in 1689, the term used for the creature was strigon... which later evolved into strigoi. The strigoi is the myth and inspiration behind Bram Stoker's Dracula.
Inspiration: This dragon is based on the Vampire. In European mythology, vampires were undead creatures that often visited their loved ones, and caused mayhem, mischief, and death. Early versions of the vampire were ruddy, covered in shrouds, and generally monstrous beasts. Vampires, or at least vampiric like creatures, show up in a multitude of cultures mythologies. Perhaps the earliest known vampiric stories and legends come from southeast Europe back in the 18th Century.
Strigonth is based more on the modern vampire. Modern vampires tend to possess common traits such as drinking of blood, being most active at night and sleeping during the day, casting no shadow or reflection, and having the ability to turn humans into vampires willingly. They tend to be deterred by exposure to garlic and mirrors, require an invitation to enter ones abode, and are vulnerable to sunlight.
To destroy a vampire, there are many different possibilities ranging from decapitation, staking them in the heart, exposing them to sunlight for a substantial length of time, or incinerating their bodies.
Additional Notes: Strigonth is envious of golds due to their power of command. He is both jealous of them, and desirous to control their power. He will do what he can to keep good ties with the queens of the Weyr in hopes they will become his pawns. Strigonth also seems to enjoy the company of Aramath and Sarcoth particularly well.
Furthermore, this blue will love to blood his kills before he eats. He enjoys draining the beasts dry before tearing into their flesh and chowing them down.
Why Me? Loving Dolmar will probably kill the Vampire, but if it's destined to die, it'll take its one true match above any old haphazard pairing. The truth is that Strigonth knows Dolmar inside and out, and not only does he accept him for the scheming social climber that he is, he's right there with him every step of the way. This is not a Blue with low self-esteem. He is the best dragon on Pern, and he is not afraid to prove exactly that. He's well aware of the opportunities afforded to him as a Western Blue, and ready to take every advantage. If his Dolmar is canny, he'll see the advantage too, and prove what a standout pair that they truly are. If there is one area where the Blue shines, it is in his ability to hold sway and influence others, and that will undoubtedly come in handy as they make every effort to climb right to the top.
(•) - [ORP] Firelizard Hatching, Oh My! [All Folks!] (•) - [PRP] An Honest Mistake [Dolmar, Marinel] (•) - [PRP] Drudge Driven to Distraction and Distress [Dol/Serfie] (•) - [PRP] Lunch tales [Mari, Dolly] (•) - [PRP] Best Friends! [Kindu and Dolly!] (•) - [PRP] With Friends Like These... [Dolmar/Cedarian] (•) - [PRP] First Impressions [Vash x Dolmar] (•) - [PRP] Rest Day, Pest Day [Mari, Dolly, flits] (•) - [Semi-ORP] Midnight Escapades [Candidates Only!] (•) - [PRP] Dancing Buddies Reunite [Dolmar and Shahera] (•) - [PRP] Twins and a Plus-One [Dol/Mari/Shahera] (•) - [PRP] Wrong Time, Wrong Place, Wrong Us [Dolmar/Shahera] (•) - [PRP] Sow's Ears & Silk Purses -Serfie/Shahera/Dolmar/Cesare (•) - The Spooky Clutch Touching: Trick or Treat! Open! (•) - It's Now The Monster Mash: The Spooky Clutch Hatching! (•) - [ORP] Fright Night - Spooky Clutch Hatching Feast - Open (•) - [PRP] Sleepless Impressions (Isilje + D'mar) (•) - [PRP] I Am Not Ten (Marinel & Shahera, D'mar too?) (•) - [PRP] D'mar and G'ryl's Eggcelent Adventure [D'mar/G'ryl] (•) - [PRP] A Bridge Not Too Far [Strigonth/Therianth] (•) - [prp] Tug on me (Miche, Tinny, Striggy) (•) - [Spooky Clutch Weyrlings] Fly So High! [Open!] (•) - [PRP] Old, New, Hatchling, and Blue [D'mar/Alya/Drgs] (•) - [ORP] Sunshine and Siestas (•) - [PRP] different strokes [ f'ell + d'mar & dragons] (•) - [PRP] Best Brother(Dragon) Ever (Mari, Dolly, Striggy) (•) - [PRP] Give the Demon His Due (C'sar/Illi/D'mar/Striggy-kins) (•) - [ORP] It's Always Tea Time: Tea Clutch Feast [Open] (•) - [PRP] The Taming of the Prude (Tristram & D'mar) (•) - [PRP] An Overdue Talk [D'mar/Shahera] (•) - [PRP] Doctor Doctor, Give Me The News [D'mar/Tristram]
Family Marinel – Thaliawen – His twin brother, a candidate at Western Weyr. Gredol – Father, deceased (First Fall). Marialla – Mother, deceased (childbirth).
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Posted: Tue Jan 24, 2017 8:35 pm
Name: V'tre (originally Vitre) Age: 19 turns Sex: Male Sexual Orientation: He isn't sure yet. Craft: Smithcraft (Apprentice) Rank: Wingrider (Harbingers Wing) Location: High Reaches Nameday: 3559.01.03 AL Voice Sample: (•) - Art Parkinson (for now!) Significant Other: Dorame (puppy love crush) (Zombiiki) GHSR/????
Physical Description: Faint glossy waves crease V’tre's hair—somewhere between coal black and dark chocolate—and he's let it grow long enough to draw into a long tumbling bundle at the nape of his neck. A few loose bits frame his face, not long enough to hide what is beginning to shift from baby-round cheeks to a strong, square-ish jawline. His large but straight nose rises up to meet almost-bushy black brows, that would look threatening on a man in his mid-30s or 40s, but seem almost a joke on a teenager. Beneath them his eyes are a warm, cheerful brown, undimmed despite the horrors of thread these past months...ahh, the resiliency of youth!
Build-wise he still looks more like a child than a young adult, of course, though from the width of his shoulders and the early musculature of his limbs from smithcrafting, he's probably going to be a very sturdy man one day. He has yet to have much in way of growth spurts, though his voice has started to crack and warble on occasion, so he's hoping that his lingering shortness will soon be a thing of the past.
V’tre lost his right foot and leg to the mid-calf. If you look closely at the scarring on Thanoth’s shoulder, you can see a faintly leg-shaped patch where there is no scarring.
Personality: V’tre is a little spitfire of a boy, if you catch him at the wrong moment. Obviously one of his parents had quite the temper, and at least one of them had just a completely brutal tongue. Perhaps because of his age, he is unfortunately hot-tempered and quick to rouse to anger. Lashing out first with words, and then with fists if he can't get his way, he's always been a bit of...well, a handful. But as angry as he is, he feels the following remorse and guilt just as keenly, and usually manages to come begging for forgiveness in the same day he's decked an age-mate. Despite his live-wire emotions, he is a primarily positive, clever, charming young boy, and the same barbed tongue that could flay a herdbeast's hide can equally hand out compliments like polished silver and silk.
He's a hard-working kid, though he's never had dreams of being a craft master; he has boundless energy, but in the way of persistence—he's not the type to be bouncing all over the place. The only thing that ever really distracts him from his assigned tasks is, of course, gossip. He finds people and their lives fascinating, to the point of distraction. Sadly he doesn't have any of the finesse or skill to put what he learns to good use...but maybe one day, with the right guidance. As things stand, he's unfortunately prone to re-spreading rumors conversationally, and has more than once gotten himself into a pickle because the persons involved have found out that he's the one flapping his gums.
He's also just really starting to notice girls. And boys. He isn't sure yet if either (or any) of them are really...like really extra interesting, buuuut in general he's just suddenly become aware that 'hey people are cool and different in some ways and maaan some of them are like...really nice to look at.' So of course that makes him even more invested in drama and gossip, because noticing people means, sometimes, you get a little shy of them, even though you still want to know more about them.
History: V’tre, frankly, has no idea who his parents are (or were). Rather, he knows who his parents are, but not who sired him, or who gave birth to him. The child of two dragonriders at High Reaches, his life was fairly typical of a traditionally structured weyr's youth. Both parents must obviously have been determined to keep up their eternal watch for thread, because he was raised in the creche from infancy to about five turns of age, at which point he was fostered to a frankly wonderful family in the hold. They never made clear their reasons for wanting to foster him, or why they'd picked him, but as far as he can tell, they've never treated him as anything but their own naturally born child.
The stark and obvious lack of any blood children of their own very probably had something to do with that, he will one day realize.
After a turn or so of adjusting, he began to thrive in his attentive new home. His foster mother was a baker, a short, stout, motherly woman of great skill, and his foster father, a well-off (but by no means wealthy) miner boasted daily about how it was her sweet pies that won his heart, before he'd even laid eyes on the woman herself. They encouraged his budding interest in metals, at first thinking he would be a miner like his foster father, though they were equally happy when he decided it was smithing for him instead. A local apprenticeship was shortly arranged, once he reached his eighth turn-day, and when he was ten turns old, as a family, they took in another foster child—a much younger 'brother', also from the weyr.
So passed turns and turns more, as a happy, "middle-class" family, full of the usual growing pains of a boy entering his teenage years (age-mate fistfights and pilfered pies and all) until the return of thread. Faranth-praised, none of them died in the first fall, but it was frankly terrifying for the lot of them, even though comparatively they were well more ready than most. For a young boy to whom thread had always been a scary bedtime story, though one to be taken very seriously, it was like seeing a scary book villain come to life.
Their household has become much more somber in the months since, though thanks to the growing need for stone, metal, and firestone, both he and his father have been bringing home more marks. His younger 'brother' doesn't understand what's changed, and their foster mother has worked hard to keep the light and smiles the family has shared going strong, but even Vitre can sense that the time for playing is done, and the time for hard work is here. And for the first time he wondered, as he cowered with his foster family beneath their stone and metal hearth, if the screams of scored or betweening dragons above might be those of his birth parents.
Other: He has a pretty rocking singing voice, actually, though he's been too embarrassed to sing since his voice started to change. If he hadn't been tapped to go into smithing first, he might have made a half-decent harper.
Name: Thanoth Age: 4 Color: Green Size: 38' Sexuality: Homosexual, poly AF. Hatching day: 3573.06.23 AL Voice Sample: (•) - Morticia Addams, The Addams Family (1991) Significant Other: Neiveth (lover) (demon_pachabel)—available! She's SUPER POLY!
Physical Description: A lovely, tiny Green with near perfect proportions, Thanoth stands out from the crowd. She is very dark in color overall, and her hide might easily be mistaken for black in the right light. Thanoth is down her right eye and headknob, her right arm almost entirely, and the majority of her right wingsail—it’s really just tatters and strings between what’s left of her wingbones. Scarring covers much of her neck on the right side, and across her chest on that side to her shoulder. She looks like death warmed over—which amuses her almost enough to make it worth it to her.
This Green is full to the brim with love, absolutely accepting of any and all comers initially. However, her appreciation and support are of a quiet sort, not the flashy ostentation of some of her other siblings. When her scorn is earned it is absolute. Do not expect forgiveness from this Green. Your time would be better spent bemoaning water for being wet, or shouting at the darkness. Her regard is precious, and like so many other valuable things, it can fade all too soon. Perhaps her fickleness is due to a knowledge that everything in life changes, and that there is no reason to hold on tightly to something that wishes to drift away. By clinging to the old and rejecting the new, we risk limiting our own growth.
Thanoth does not have any trouble adapting to change, nor moving on from company that does not bring her emotional fulfillment. Woe betide anyone who would tie her down when she's ready to take a different path. They may be met with a sarcastic wit that comes unexpectedly, as her sardonic sense of humor often lurks beneath the surface. She makes such a concerted effort to fit into her environment that she doesn't necessarily want anyone to know the real, hidden Thanoth. She's unafraid to step forward into whatever role or position might best suit her, but she doesn't want to be caught out for the maverick that she truly is.
She loves best of all to share a good joke with anyone who will listen. Unfortunately, her brand of humor isn't for everyone. Although Thanoth thinks it's ever so funny that that runner fell down and knocked over that rider, the parties involved probably didn't. Nor did a Candidate who offended a dragon into kicking them off of the Sands think it was hilarious, but oh Thanoth sure did. She has, as mentioned, a slightly dark sense of humor. It's a little at odds with her surroundings, but she can't help that. Who doesn't love a great sarcastic remark? Well. Probably most everyone, come to think of it.
Thanoth loves, loves, loves to have some great joke to keep from everyone, or to share with them. She can't help but notice all of the goings on around her, and she's inclined to share with her rider, if no one else. She enjoys being a part of a circle of friends, especially if it means having someone to gossip with. Everything in life is a little bit funny, and she has the greatest time rolling along with it. Life at the bottom rung of society would be dull if she couldn't turn it into a game, so that's exactly what she'll do.
Shelled 3573.06.23 Able to rise 3573.13.23 Record: 0/1 recorded wins -3574.06—chased green Neiveth (demon_pachabel) -Maiden flight 3574.13—caught by Green Neiveth (demon_pachabel)
Additional Impression Notes:
Written by Masterharper & Fated Fable Colored by Masterharper Origin of Name: Though the card is not a true representation of death, this little girl's name is based on the greek god of death, Thanatos. Thanatos was represented as being just and gentle, and known to be an inevitable fate.
Additional Notes: She enjoys making the chase particularly difficult for male dragons and loves to cuddle with her sisters. If given a chance, she would chase other Greens. In the egg, Thanoth had an especially close bond to her brother Elzebuth. She finds Veledath to be intriguing, and Aresoth to be hilarious! Truthfully, there's not really any one of her siblings that she dislikes.
Inspiration: The Death card is the thirteenth card of the Major Arcana. In some tarot decks, this card's name is omitted, and it's simply called The Card With No Name. This card doesn't actually represent death or the act of dying. It usually means an end and an increased self-awareness.
Why Me? If there was ever someone who could appreciate Thanoth's unique sense of humor and cutting wit, Vitre comes top of the list every time. While he is still young, he has a lot of growing he can do-- with Thanoth at his side. She adores his clever tongue, and loves all of the trouble that they can get up to! His loyal heart is just what she's looking for. He doesn't seem to want to rise above the rank he's been born into, and that's okay with her, so long as they can have the most fun. They both have a temper, which is definitely something to watch, but at the end of the day, their love for one another will win out. He's just as interested in the latest gossip as she is, and she can't wait to tell him all about it!
(•) – [PRP] Rough and Old, Young and Bold [S'kal/Vitre] (•) – [PRP] Rumor Has It [Vitre/Nebbi] (•) – A Divine Morning: The Tarot Clutch Hatching is Open! (•) – [ORP] A Spread for the Deck: The Tarot Clutch Feast (•) – [PRP] Letters From Home [V'tre/Nebbi] (•) – [PRP] Check In [V'tre + Thanoth/G'lin + Neiveth] (•) – [PRP] A Dance With Death (Nebbi & V'tre) (•) - [SR. WEYRLINGS] A Bloody Deck of Cards [ROUND 4] (•) - [GREENFLIGHT] Hello to you, and ESPECIALLY to you! [FIN~] (•) - [IC]Threadfall: High Reaches - OVER! (•) - [PRP] will name soon (Dorame & V'tre)
Family V'rind – ShinosBee – Is technically his mother, but he has no idea, and has never met her. P'tre – NPC, a weyrless bronzerider who passed through HRW for a gold flight. Vilian – NPC, Newborn helf-sister, at HRW. Thanna – NPC, Newborn helf-sister, at HRW. Gunne – NPC, foster brother at High Reaches Hold, about 11 turns old. Susean – NPC, foster father, a miner at High Reaches Hold. Yllea – NPC, foster mother, a baker at High Reaches Hold.
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ShinosBee
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ShinosBee
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Posted: Thu Jan 26, 2017 7:59 am
This character is currently inactive. Name: V'rind (originally Vilirind) Age: 41 turns Sex: Female Sexual Orientation: Heterosexual Weyr: High Reaches Weyr Rider Rank: Wingrider (Burning Aces Wing) Previous Rank/Craft: Smithcraft (Apprentice) Nameday: 3536.09.07 AL Voice Sample: (•) - Aria T'loak, Mass Effect Significant Other: T'at of Brown Nessuth (weyrmate) (Wish) GSRH/????
Physical Description: V'rind blends flawlessly in with most High Reaches natives, a sure sign that she was bred and born inside the weyr's territory. Her skin is creamy and pale, thanks to long hours spent inside out of the biting winters, though her cheeks are also usually flushed ruddy from exertion or chill from riding. She doesn't seem to freckle, though if you're lucky enough to see her with her clothing off, she isn't without blemish. She wears her threadscore proudly, a sign that she was ready for the silver menace, and lived through it. The wisp-like scarring twists across her upper left arm and shoulder, stopping just above her left breast in the front, and just below her shoulder blade in the back. The scars, though obvious, are also well healed and seem to have not been terribly deep. She prefers blue clothing, and often tries to match her dear dragon; most of her gear is also fur-lined, for extra warmth.
Atop her head is a tumbling mass of coal-black hair. With only the faintest hint of waves, it pools around her neck and shoulders. A few seemingly random braids lace through it here and there, but it is typically left loose to blow in the wind, unless she's in drills or fighting thread. Her eyes are a stormy blue-gray, matching the darker patches on Krah's hide, and typically narrowed in stern suspicion. Her nose is masculine; large and slightly hooked, it broods just off-center between her firm brows. Her lips are thin, often pursed or drawn tight in a frown, but colored enough as to not be totally ugly.
Her build tends towards the stocky—were it not for the rigorous weyr life she would be inclined to be a hefty, if fit, woman. They type you'd imagine lording over a kitchen and scolding a man into fearful submission while bouncing an infant on each hip. A harsh life has trimmed the fat though, leaving behind an unfeminine bundle of muscle. All flat planes and sharp edges, there is little by way of curves left about her. Her hips are wide, but with both belly and thighs clad in hard muscular bulk, it is hard to tell. Her bust is unremarkable as well, though it is enough to continue to identify her as female.
Personality: A fitting match for her dragon, she pairs with him in many areas. Both are stubborn, both firm in their convictions and drives. Thankfully this adds up more to them balancing each other out, as neither will fully surrender to the other. She has a force of will to be reckoned with, as is needed to control the blue. She thrives on gossip, but tends not to pass it on once she's heard it, preferring to hoard it for her own use and knowledge. She is inclined to harshly and rashly judge others, deciding on first sight whom she likes and dislikes; who is probably good in a fight or in bed, and who's a sissy little dim-glow and a coward to boot. It takes a lot to alter these predetermined conclusions about others, though she sometimes is happily surprised when proven wrong.
She struggles to express her deeper feelings to others, though such things as irritation, bravado, and disparaging remarks come through clear as crystal. She isn't terribly romantic, and has yet to meet a man that would even make her think about considering 'settling down' with a weyrmate. She responds best to Krah's moments of waxing poetic, and only when he is in the correct mood can she be made to be soft and loving (thread and tragedy have hardened her heart to most plights).
While she cannot easily tell how she feels, she has no trouble saying what she thinks. She is happy to cut someone down to size, or give praise where it is honestly due. She respects effort and real talent, but unlike her dragon she knows when to suck up bad leadership and keep her head down. The recent return of thread, and the loss of life across Pern has not done much to improve her disposition. She doesn't really have anything against anyone living in any other weyrs, she just thinks they're fools for not being ready, and arse-backwards for not rushing to High Reaches for guidance now that the great enemy has returned.
Pros: Stable, determined, level-headed, honest. Cons: Struggles with her emotions, dominating, passive-aggressive to nearly everyone, impatient, a gossip.
History: V'rind was born in a mining hold near to High Reaches Weyr, beholden to Nabol, but thankfully lacking most of its corruption. Her family had worked as miners and smithies for generations, and so it was assumed she would follow. It was to the mutual surprise and minor dismay of the family when a passing blue come to visit their hold declared that she would do quite well at the weyr. She rejected the offer, but several sevendays later when he returned and reiterated the same desire to see her stand, she gave it more thought. Much deliberation was had—no one in family memory had ever stood for a clutch, let alone ridden aback a dragon—but in the end she decided to give it a try. There was something about the form of the blue dragon that appealed to her, she supposed. With well-crafted muscles and all the strength of stone in their bodies, and the gem-like eyes that whirled so bright...she went. On a whim, she decided to go, and if she did not impress in two turns she would return, intent on not missing too many years of training at the mine.
She arrived at the weyr mere days before the first hatching she would stand for, and the sense of urgency and haste made her clearly uncomfortable. She had no time to even begin to learn about the dragons and their care, and so on the hatching day she all but prayed to not impress. And she did not. No dragon was there for her, to her relief and mild displeasure. Only after it was done did she learn that it could easily be a year more before she could even try to stand, before more eggs were laid. She was fairly certain then that this was all a waste of time, but the food was good, and she'd sworn to stick it out for some time, and so she did.
Her second hatching was near the end of her self-imposed tenure at the weyr, and she felt more than prepared to impress if this time there was an egg for her. She didn't have to wait long. Beating a bronze to the punch by busting the shell moments before him, a blue that seemed to embody her ideal dragon came smashing onto the scene. He watched as his bronze brother, perhaps miffed at being upstaged, trotted towards the candidates...and then with a clear call of challenge, he bowled him over, knocking him to the ground (though not harming him) before storming proudly to V'rind's side. He declared that she was his, that he was Krahsujunth, and that he was far, FAR better than that yellow-bellied bronze.
And so she began her life for real in the weyr. Krahsujunth was ever a handful, willful and bold, demanding to know why this or how that, and why everyone said he was JUST a blue and seemed to be either shocked or angry when he dared to be honest about his 'betters' shortcomings. The turns tempered him and his rider both into a fine pair, though the blue's critical eye on those in power never faded. She became better at controlling him, and the pair actually began to show signs of improvement, to their superiors' pleasure.
Then thread came, and with it news that her family had all but perished. A few had managed to escape into the mines at fall's start, but a cave in had claimed several more. She had little time to worry for them though, as the situation in the weyr was hectic to say the least. Too many people had been unprepared for the return of thread, and even though it was High Reaches, when she'd joined up she hadn't really given the forgotten menace much thought. Now it was too late to back out, and both her and Krahsujunth's stubborn nature would let them consider running off. They would not let this beat them, not now, not ever.
Other: Her talents include manual labor, verbally dressing down those who need it, giving dirty looks that will haunt your waking and sleeping hours, and she can eat anything—has a real stomach of iron.
Name: Krahsujunth Age: 25 turns Color: Blue Size: 66' Sexuality: Goldsexual Hatching day: 3552.08.17 AL Voice Sample: (•) - Tyrael, Diablo III/Heroes of the Storm Significant Other: Gold Fianth (Weyrmates) (Uta)
Physical Description: Krahsujunth is large for a blue, very large (33' in fact!). He isn't as big as your average browns, but smaller ones might find themselves matched by him. His form matches his size, and he is more steel-hard muscle than lanky limbs. His legs are even a shade short; this combined with his impressive physique makes him as strong on the ground as in the air. He walks boldly, broad chest swelling with air and pride. His hands and feet are calloused, and often his claws are scuffed or chipped. His wings are not particularly long, and are perhaps broader than usual—they look either 'fat' or 'impressive', depending on whom you ask. The membrane of the right wing is slightly tattered, revealing injuries long-healed, and he seems unhindered by their no longer perfect edges. He has his own kind of grace in the air, a firm confidence that gives beauty to his otherwise unremarkable straight-line flying.
His tail is supple and powerful, and to be kept in mind during mating flights—he is not above using it like a whip to drive his point home. His neck is as toned as the rest of him, an arching column of banded flesh. His head is strongly formed, tapering from a wide strong brow to a thinner muzzle, typical of the wedge-shaped heads of his kind. An extremely passionate dragon, his face is often the picture of stern determination, as far as dragons go. He has his fair share of scars, both from standard weyr life and battling thread in this most recent turn. One of his tail tips is actually missing a tiny part, and under close inspection, would be revealed to be about two inches shorter than the other tip.
His skin is icy blue, mottled darker on his underside and limbs. Above he grows pale, with wisps of lighter blue blowing over him. In his home skies at High Reaches, he is often nearly impossible to see, especially any time snow is blowing about.
Personality: Pros: Passionate, brave, honorable, loyal. Cons: Merciless, slow to give respect, rebellious to those he doesn't trust or respect, stubborn.
Krahsujunth is a passionate dragon. A fierce dragon. A strong dragon with a will of iron and a spirit of unbending steel. In the face of thread or threat he would gladly give his life for his rider, or those he holds dear. He has a great capacity for respect, and is utterly loyal to those he finds worth his time. On the opposite claw though, that respect will be hard won, and for those who do not meet his standards, he has nothing but scorn to give. He is occasionally a bit of a 'troublemaker', rebelling against wingsecond and wingleader alike during drills if he finds them unfit to lead. His rider must often force a strong hand with him at these times to keep him from getting into it too deep, or from hurting himself or others. More often it is safer to simply shuffle him about in the ranks than force him to stay with a leader he will not get on with—his grudges are potent and long, and very difficult to quell.
Just as he hates with all his spirit, he similarly loves with all his heart. He has a dash of a poet in him, and he enjoys quiet moments alone or with his rider. He is no talker, make no mistake—rather than talk about his feelings he would rather simply feel them in silence. But just because he is hesitant to explain how the rising sun makes his heart swell near to bursting with a mix of love and pride does not mean he does not feel those feelings. With perhaps enough time to mellow, and the right rider to guide and guard him through and from his emotions, he could become a very strong leader. He has no fear of responsibility, and a very good understanding of what is required of him and what those who might find themselves in his care need from their leader.
He also has a firm, and inexplicable, fondness for golds, much more than greens, when it comes to flights. Any time a gold has allowed blues to 'participate', even in jest, he's been there to try to show off.
Threadfall Stats: HP: 33 Status Effect: XP: Target Accuracy: 6 Flame Length: 7 General Stamina: 11 General Agility: 6 Between Accuracy: 6 Pain Resilience: 8 Instinct: 6 Luck: 8
Flight Notes: Strength: Remaining dump points Speed: Tied for highest score with stamina Dexterity: Lowest score Stamina: Tied for highest score with speed Wits: Second highest score
For Fianth Sometimes Krahsujunth writes love poems for Fianth. He's...not super great at it but he tries.
Come sit a while, my golden queen And I shall bask within your mien; For a hundred turns, and one day more, As every day I have before.
No bold great bronze, but only blue Though clouds of thread I would fly through To safeguard every inch of Pern, And hopefully your heart to earn.
Your name I'd write upon the mountains And carve each spire into fountains To light your morn with rainbow-spray.... If only you would look my way.
Or if for rare delights you'd rather I would every day go gather A delicacy of fowl or beast: For you I'd set the finest feast.
The whole of Harper Hall I'd steal, Their endless songs to you to creel, Or to their ballads commit your name, And give you everlasting fame.
In truth I know no deed could hope To bind your heart as if with rope. All hearts to love must be set free Or ever they would long to flee.
So a hundred turns and more I'd wait For just one day to dedicate To sitting here, my golden heart, Until night ushers us apart, And let tomorrow decide what else might start.
Krahsujunth and Fianth "Monochrome" by National Park Radio
Instrumentals X
RP Logs:
(•) - [PRP] Ol' True and Blue [Z'yden/V'rind] (•) - [Semi-PRP]Blue Riders Stick Together[Female Blue Riders] (•) - [PRP] Morning Has Broken [V'rind/Ayd'n/Alumet] (•) - [PRP] Doctor Doctor, Give Me the News [V'rind/Dristan] (•) - [PRP] Physical Frustrations [T'at + V'rind] (•) - [ORP] A Spread for the Deck: The Tarot Clutch Feast (•) - [PRP]Tale as Old as Time, Gold, Would You Be Mine?[Krah/Fia] (•) - [PRP]Meanwhile, in the Darkest Timeline[V'rind/K'ienn/Drgns] (•) - [PRP] Bundle of Joy (and Other Emotions) [V'rind/T'at] (•) - [ORP] A Little Night Music [Open] (•) - [PRP]Timing is Everything (Everything is Terrible)[BABYTIME] (•) - [PRP] Big Brother Little Brother Blue [Krahsujunth/Heichath] (•) - [ORP] It's Always Tea Time: Tea Clutch Feast [Open] (•) - [IC]Threadfall: High Reaches - OVER!
Family
Family T'at – Wish – Her weyrmate, father of her unborn child. V'tre – ShinosBee – Her son with P'tre. Now a rider at her own Weyr, though they are estranged. Vilian – NPC, Newborn daughter with T'at, at the Weyr. Thanna – NPC, Newborn daughter with T'at, at the Weyr. Rindorn – NPC father, a miner at a minor Nabolian hold. Vilianna – NPC mother, a miner at a minor Nabolian hold. Rinna – Tsu – A bluerider, older sister, last seen in their teens, was a miner at a Nabolian hold. Vilforn – NPC, older brother, last seen in their teens, was a miner at a Nabolian hold. Rivian – NPC, older brother, last seen in their teens, was a miner at a Nabolian hold. Vidor – NPC, older brother, last seen in their teens, location unknown. Dorvill – NPC, younger brother, last seen in their teens, location unknown.
🛡🛡
Posted: Thu Jan 26, 2017 8:10 am
Name: Lestenna Age: 32 turns Sex: Female Sexual Orientation: Heterosexual, demiromantic Weyr: High Reaches Weyr Rider Rank: Wingrider (Faranth's Furies) Previous Rank/Craft: N/A Nameday: 3545.10.08 AL Voice Sample: (•) - (Human) Kerrigan, Starcraft/Heroes of the Storm Significant Other: None—lost her mate, unavailable for now.
Physical Description: Lestenna stands proudly tall for a girl, especially one of such obvious working stock—above average height for her gender, though not for Pern as a whole, and aided by almost stubbornly erect posture and shoulders that, when squared, would be the envy of half the males her age, give her an air of being perhaps taller than she really is. She is well-built and muscled, decently proportioned as far as her weight-to-height ratio goes; sadly she is not graced with any kind of feminine form.
Her hair is a nondescript medium brown, and vaguely waved from a life near the sea, as well as genetics. Or rather, it would be if she let it grow. Following the return of thread, when a stray strand wasn't quite dodged in time, her hair was shorn like an ovine, and she has kept it cropped close since; barely four inches long and out of the way, it's revealed a rather round head and unapologetically larger than usual ears. Her nose as well is rather unfeminine—proud and long, it dominates her face and gives it an unfortunately masculine lilt as it juts from between her hard brown eyes and short—if thick—brows. Her one 'redeeming quality' as far as looking feminine, are her naturally pink and shapely lips...when they're not drawn into a tense line or worse, a serious frown. of course.
Her clothing is utilitarian at best; out of style, though properly maintained, and she cares not for flashy pieces or baubles. In a crowd she would be hard to pick out as a rider at all by her attire, let alone a goldrider.
Personality: A hard but fair life reared Lestenna up to be similarly hard but fair. Always striving to show her worth, to be of use, to be helpful, to make her way and an honest living. Life is about your place in it, and earning that place with your own two hands and the deeds you can do. There is pride to be found, and honor, in an honest living, working with one's hands and finding pleasure in whatever your lot in life is. Or at least that's what Lestenna was always told, and believed for sixteen turns of her life. That the world was good, and bettered by those in it who led good lives, and that those who chose the wrong paths, the dark ways and dishonest ones would be found out and reap what they sowed.
Then came famine and outlaws and thread, and things changed. A harsh wake up call shook her, and left the young woman filled with a great well of anger and sorrow, masked beneath disinterest and cheerful keeping-on. She hides her fury well, though occasional cracks in the facade she's made let through glimpses of the passion inside—both good and bad. As great as her anger at the enemies in her life might be, the sorrow of losing friends and family and a gentle way of life, so greatly burns her joy. Still bright, though contained in the face of threats seemingly from all sides, she knows when to keep her feelings in check and when to let them blaze out of control.
She has always liked to think that those who do good will come to good ends, and when thread came she felt that she was vindicated in that belief. But at a price, of course. She's seen friends side with the same invaders that had unsettled their home. Seen them forget, forgive what happened before. The raids. The fighting. While her own convictions remained strong, it was only too clear that those around her were becoming weaker, turning to regard their once-enemies as if they deserved to be among them. Because so many had gone that way, making friends and forgetting their loyalty to the rightful rulers of Hold and Hall, she became increasingly distrustful over the last decade of life. Always one to keep her feelings locked away, and her thoughts close to the vest, she has become even more reluctant to show anything but a (false) face of contentment until she has the measure of a person. If she must wait alone to make her moves, she will. But she will not forget, and when the day comes, she will not forgive those who have wronged her and hers in any way, nor those who have come to love those she would call enemies, or cast aside morals and traditions.
And Faranth have mercy on that day, because she will not.
Pros: Passionate, caring, resilient, hopeful. Cons: Passionate, distrusting, negative, savage when pushed.
History: Born a child of two drudges in a tiny sea-side weyr that grew out of a gathering of weyrless riders a century and a half ago, that Lestenna was both healthy and bright in the creche was something of a welcome surprise. She had as close a relationship with her parents as was normal for a child of her status—more than most rider-born would have, though her loyalty was forged more to the weyr than her parents as individuals. She grew swiftly, and suffered few childhood injuries or illnesses—all in all she was entirely robust, and clever in the way of children who figure out on their own, and all too soon, that there is no tooth wherry or magical being bearing turnover gifts for those scolded into good behavior.
From youth she understood that her parents were drudges, and that they would never be riders like those she had come to adore. She was at once furious with the substandard wages and way of living her parents had been shunted into and at the same time understanding that at least in this weyr they were given this much. In holds or even other, older weyrs things would be even worse, she had been told. As she aged and learned the ways of dragonriders and of Pern and her history, she came rather to be grateful that at least in her weyr everyone had a place and a purpose, and even if things weren't entirely a paradise, they could all be together and do most of what they pleased. The weyr cared for those that would not be able to do elsewhere, and gave them more than could be said anyone else would give. And the weyr had her thanks for that.
With such debts in mind, it became Lestenna's goal to give back to the system somehow. It was the weyr who had her allegiance, and her people, and she understood what they had done for her in offering her to stand for dragonbond, even now in the days where they were no longer needed protectors of Pern. It was an offer she could not begin to think of refusing, especially when she found herself to have no remarkable talents for most crafts. Those that were interesting proved to be those that would lead her away from the weyr for a time, to halls for training. Similarly they often required fees for apprenticing and further training—fees that her parents, with their drudge wages, couldn't possibly save up. No, no, she would become a rider or take to the kitchens or caverns, she told herself. Perhaps the local farmcraft would be glad of her, untrained as she was, for turns of candidate labor would build strong muscles and work ethic.
As most weyrs no longer kept to traditional efforts or tithing, it was not immediately apparent when one of the region's minor, but most productive holds was taken by raiders. A sea-side 'city', it fell easy prey to the combination of sails both on boats and dragons, and the thundering hooves of riders on racerback, and developed swiftly into a rather dangerous, immoral hive. Only when several candidates and a greenrider taking a rest day vacation failed to return was the issue brought to light. A second problem arose months later, when regional crops seemed to fail, leaving some minor holds increasingly dependent on larger holds and the weyr itself to provide. The raiders, unaccustomed as they were to tilling and planting, began roving and taking more and more holds to fill their own bellies. And to Lestenna's ire and horror, boredom and wariness of their own hunger convinced more than a handful of the weyr's riders to abandon their posts and go rogue, or sneak out to live double lives.
Forced to live and work beside these 'rogues' was anathema to her. Some argued that the raiders and their followers knew how to fight and fly better than the weyr, and could help keep people and dragons better fed. Some said that it was survival of the fittest, and might made right. Some pointed out that when a few raider 'stowaways' impressed dragonets at the next clutch, that that meant they couldn't be all that bad.
That, if anything, was the most Lestenna could manage to tolerate (because who was she to gainsay a dragonet's choice?). More and more she felt that the slow decline over centuries from the traditional ways of Pernese life had caused this upheaval. People were beginning to go from arguing to rioting in some holds, and people were starting to get hurt. In her mind, the ancients had the right of it. It made sense to judge a rider by their actions, just like everyone else. Hadn't the weyrs stood in their traditional ways for centuries untold? Hadn't the dragons always fallen in line by color as if it was bred into their very nature? Hadn't it been that same sense of hierarchy that had allowed for the discipline needed to repel thread for so many turns (and what could be a greater triumph than to have finally defeated it)? No one told a dragon it was wrong for who it chose to bond with—why had it suddenly become wrong that blues should look up to browns, and greens to bronzes, and all to golds? The creeping idea of the turmoil that seemed to have come from shaking the order of things refused to be extinguished.
And somewhere along the way, she impressed. Not to a blue, or a green, or even a tiny white. To a gold. As if Pern itself, Faranth beyond, had reached down to tap her on the shoulder and say, "you've got the right of it". There was nothing she could do with a dragonet so young, now when she needed the weyr's resources the most, but already she knew that she would not stand for such treason, such disregard for the same system that had kept them all safe and fed for millennium much longer. She just had to wait until Uridith had grown, and until the time was right.
And so Lestenna maintained a facade of quiet acceptance—she never made friends with those who dabbled on the wrong side of the law, but nor did she rally against them. A time would come though, she was sure, when they would show themselves for the craven power hungry thieves they were. And she would remember all they'd done, and all those who'd sided with them, and she would protect her weyr from them by any means necessary.
And thread returned. And people died. The weyr scrambled to organize, but so did the raider riders, and many felt the call of demand in two directions at once. Both efforts were scattered at best, and neither group escaped without casualties (and a vicious determination that it was the OTHER group that had caused the problem.) A stray thread (and there were so, so many stray threads that day) found her hair and twisted within it as she rose atop Uridith to fight the great and long-forgotten enemy, with weapons they barely had any idea how to use. Only a split second reaction to fling them both between saved the pair. Many of her friends were not so lucky, and when she survived with naught but a freshly shorn head she felt guilt and anger with herself and the weyr itself for the first time. Of course, she reasoned, no one had thought thread would come again. Thread hadn't come for centuries, an eon. Still, it was a bitter pill to see the tattered remnants of the weyr's wings immediately turn to squabbling with the raider riders rather than band together to prepare for the next threadfall.
Realizing that no one wanted to listen to her there, and that there was precious little left to save, she bundled her parents onto Uridith's back, and in three coughs had them all gliding down towards the bowl of High Reaches. Here, she determined, at least were people who knew the truth of the world, and were ready to fight together.
Other: If dedication to a cause is a talent, then count that. The same with knowing when to talk and when to keep her head down. Aside from that? Her memory is keen as a tack, and she is excellent at putting faces to names, and knowing what name goes with what deeds.
Name: Uridith Age: 13 turns Color: Gold Size: 92' Sexuality: Heterosexual Hatching day: 3564.13.11 AL Voice Sample: (•) - Auriel, Diablo III/Heroes of the Storm Significant Other: None.
Physical Description: Uridith is a perfectly formed gold in all ways. She is average size, right down the middle for her color at 92', and has almost exactly proportional portions, making her length for length just what one'd imagine in a gold. Well, as long as one looks at her from the ankles up. Her feet and claws seem over sized, meant for a dragon an obvious shade bigger than herself. Despite the somewhat awkward look they lend, they are useful for walking, giving her an overly easy gait on the ground and making the struggle of walking for such a large dragon that much easier.
Personality: Uridith is a passionate dragon matched to a passionate rider. Born for greatness, she loves all her family, and all her family includes everyone at (or at least, loyal to) High Reaches. She is dotingly kind, and often overprotective of those who are good to her family. This same sense of desire to protect what is hers often becomes overbearing, and rather irritating to those 'blessed' with her protection, but she cares not. As long as they stay safe she will continue to remind them to watch their landings and not chew too fast and not associate with those dangerous rogue types. Even right out telling her that you don't want her doting on you would do no good—her feelings are stronger than the shell she hatched from, and she's sure you're just trying to look out for her in turn. No, no, that's fine, she's a gold, it's her duty and pleasure to mind everyone else.
And yes, she is a gold. And as a gold, she's certain that she knows best (though maybe Lestenna knows a bit more, sometimes) for everyone. And because she's already made up her mind on what she thinks is right, it is infuriatingly hard to change her mind about anything, let alone give her advice that she bothers to listen to. She makes up her mind and then acts on it; more often than not without fully thinking through the long term consequences of her actions, which leaves her seeming dangerously flighty at times. And why shouldn't she act on a thought as soon as it comes to her? What's that? Last time? Oh dear, that had to have been someone else! surely she'd remember if she'd done something so foolish. No, no, it's her job to look out for and protect against that sort of thing, sweetie. Now step back and watch her work!
She has nothing but the best intentions in all of her actions and ideas, she simply needs a firm hand and a mind that can see the long term and big picture to temper and guide her in her role as self-elected protector and 'mother' of the weyr.
When someone she thinks of as under her protection, someone in her family, as it were, is in danger, she becomes a raging golden ball of teeth and claws and (she wishes) fire. It is her job to protect, and her job to fight for her family when it comes to it. There is nothing so frightening and dangerous as a mother protecting her children—and as far as she knows, all of the weyr and its holdings falls into that category. Properly guided, that sort of ferocity could be quite the weapon in some hands.
Shelled 3564.13.11 Able to rise 3565.13.11 -Maiden flight 3566.09—caught by bronze Silmith (NPC) -Rose 3568.07—caught by brown Belinth (AstoriaFallen) -Rose 3570.03—caught by bronze Aelioth (NPC) -Rose 3573.05—caught by bronze Takarath (nilah44)
3568.10.18 Uridith x Belinth (brown - AstoriaFallen) 20 Eggs 0 gold / 1 bronze / 3 brown / 6 blues / 10 greens
3570.06.19 Uridith x Aelioth 15 Eggs 0 gold / 2 bronzes / 2 browns / 5 blues / 6 greens E'mel & Blue Brietath :: High Reaches Weyr :: Played by demon_pachabel
High Reaches Weyr 3573.07.06 Uridith x Takarath 22 Eggs 1 gold / 1 bronze / 3 browns / 7 blues / 11 greens Alumet & gold Zenobiath :: High Reaches Weyr :: Played by -_Wish of Tevarae_- C'ryn & bronze Aresoth :: High Reaches Weyr :: Played by BastetAmun G'ran & brown Elzebuth :: High Reaches Weyr :: Played by Tsunake Le'x & brown Kratoth :: High Reaches Weyr :: Played by Teiha Nadry & brown Menankith :: High Reaches Weyr :: Played by Meepfur R'gan & blue Basanuth :: High Reaches Weyr :: Played by DruidTigeress C'lusi & blue Macuith :: High Reaches Weyr :: Played by Masterharper R'ey & blue Eleusith :: High Reaches Weyr :: Played by Starwberri Stardust Ichta & blue Aurinkoth :: High Reaches Weyr :: Played by demon_pachabel Jynnat & blue Begath :: High Reaches Weyr :: Played by magnadearel NPC Blue 1 NPC Blue 2 Mennick & green Veledath :: High Reaches Weyr :: Played by Melomar Dr'stan & green Cynosuth :: High Reaches Weyr :: Played by Fated Fable Demanthra & green Monath :: High Reaches Weyr :: Played by Dea and #Teddy# V'tre & green Thanoth :: High Reaches Weyr :: Played by ShinosBee R'am & green Lemoth :: High Reaches Weyr :: Played by Peppermint Coffee Ellain & green Varionnith :: High Reaches Weyr :: Played by ChaosTheories Mallan & green Xochith :: High Reaches Weyr :: Played by Revel1984 NPC Green 1 NPC Green 2 NPC Green 3 NPC Green 4
Additional Impression Info
Inspiration: Gold Uridith is based off a constellation, in preferred keeping with the clutch theme. Her constellation is Lupus.
On the constellation Lupus "Lupus is a constellation in the southern sky. Its name is Latin for wolf. Lupus was one of the 48 constellations listed by the 2nd century astronomer Ptolemy, and it remains one of the 88 modern constellations. It lies between Centaurus and Scorpius.
In ancient times, the constellation was considered an asterism within Centaurus, and was considered to have been an arbitrary animal, killed, or about to be killed, on behalf of, or for, Centaurus. It was not separated from Centaurus until Hipparchus of Bithynia named it Therion (meaning beast) in the 200s BCE. No particular animal was associated with it until the Latin translation of Ptolemy's work identified it with the wolf."
On the wolf "Wolves have a long history of association with humans, having been despised and hunted in most agricultural communities due to its attacks on livestock, while conversely being respected by some Native American tribes. It is also sole ancestor of the dog, which was first domesticated in the Middle East, and one of man's most treasured companion animals.
Wolves are social animals, preferring to move withing familial packs, though sometimes multiple families can come together to form unusually large packs. They are territorial animals that often eke out far more territory than is necessary to survive in order to assure steady, abundant food."
Origin of Name: Uridith comes from "UR.IDIM." The Greek constellation [of Lupus] is probably based on the Babylonian figure known as the Mad Dog (UR.IDIM). This was a strange hybrid creature that combined the head and torso of a man with the legs and tail of a lion (the cuneiform sign 'UR' simply refers to a large carnivore; lions, wolves and dogs are all included). It is often found in association with the sun god and another mythical being called the Bison-man, which is supposedly related to the Greek constellation of Centaurus.
Why me?: Uridith and Lestenna make a good match because Lestenna has the focus and drive to guide the little gold to great heights, and similarly Uridith has the love and protective nature to remind Lestenna what is important, and what they want to protect. Without the other, Lestenna could become too callous, too focused on her goals to keep in mind what good parts of herself she'd rather not lose. Similarly, Uridith would wane without a goal, or a focusing hand to guide her. Her good intentions are just that, but doomed to repeat failure without someone seeing the big picture for her.
RP Logs: (•) – [ORP] Waste the day away (•) – [PRP] Dinner and a Show of Force [Lestenna/A'dras] (•) – [GOLD FLIGHT] The Luck of the Draw [CONGRATS TAKARATH!] (•) – [PRP] A Home for the Lost [Lestenna + A'dras + T'at] (•) – [PRP] In This Together, For Now [Lestenna/V'kenti] (•) – A Fortuitous Day: Tarot Clutch Touching Open! (•) – [PRP] Prepare for the Worst [Lestenna/Z'rik] (•) – A Divine Morning: The Tarot Clutch Hatching is Open! (•) – [ORP] A Spread for the Deck: The Tarot Clutch Feast (•) – [PRP] Goodbye is Harder than Hello [Lest/V'kenti] (•) – [PRP] Motherly Affection [Alumet + Lestenna] (•) – [PRP] Acquisitions [Lest/Lucayr/Emori/Dragons] (•) – [PRP] Upward Momentum [Lestenna/V'kenti] (•) – [PRP] Worry and Woe (Zenobiath + Uridith) (•) – [PRP]Big Blue Baby [Uridith/Brieteth] (•) – [IC]Threadfall: High Reaches - OVER! (•) – [PRP] A long and detailed Discussion [V and Les] (•) – [PRP] Begin Again with the Sun [Uridith/Nevidenth]
Family
Family V'kenti – Nilah44 – Her weyrmate, rider of bronze Takarath at High Reaches Weyr, and a wingleader. Lestor – NPC, a drudge at High Reaches Weyr. Tenna – NPC, a drudge at High Reaches Weyr. Lesta – Teiha – Her younger sibling, estranged since before the fall of Ierne Weyrhold, recently come to High Reaches.
🗡🛡
ShinosBee
Nerd
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ShinosBee
Nerd
Offline
Posted: Thu Jan 26, 2017 8:15 am
This character is currently inactive. Name: G'ar (originally Galavar) Age: 36 turns Sex: Male Sexual Orientation: Bisexual Weyr: Western Weyr Rider Rank: Wingrider (Fire Storm Wing) Previous Rank/Craft: Starsmith (journeyman) Nameday: 3541.09.28 AL Voice Sample: (•) - Sun King Avad, Horizon: Zero Dawn Significant Other: K'tos (lovers) (Uta)
Physical Description: G'ar is tall—just over 6' for certain. He would be on the spindly side if given to a more domestic life; perhaps if he'd been only a starsmith, and not also a rider. He has an average amount of muscle, and is unremarkable in terms of physique. His skin is tanned, but less so than some avid sun-worshippers (a semi-nocturnal craft tends to do that, you know.) His eyes are a dark dull color of gray. Rather than laugh lines the beginnings of brow creases are just starting to form on his face, though five turns more and he'll start showing the crow's feet too. His hair is rich, if common brown, and hangs to mid-back. Usually it is twisted up into a tie or ribbon to keep it out of the way, and though it does lend him a slightly feminine look, he refuses to cut it. His expressions are all gentle, muted versions of what is average. His smiles are small and meek; his frowns are the merest crook-down of the corners of his mouth.
All in all he comes off as decently attractive, but mostly unremarkable. A face to get lost in the crowd, but nice enough if you happened to come upon him alone.
He favors long, flowing fabrics for his attire, and often dresses too warm for Western, though it never seems to bother him. His style is a bit traditional, though he is also aware of fashions as they come and go.
Personality: From his candidate days, G'ar has struggled to draw close to anyone, or even to adequately express his feelings. That doesn't necessarily mean he is cruel or cold; in fact, he is nothing but polite and respectful to his peers. He makes good conversation, and works rather well with others...it is the moment where the work is done, where everyone goes back to their weyrs that the walls come up. He is content to linger alone with Marasemeth, appearing only if necessary for meals or special events. Even when intruded upon, he retains his slightly detached style of graciousness.
In his work, he is dedicated and steadfast. He has no fear of hard work, and strives to gain approval for his efforts both from his superiors and within himself. This is a lingering aspect from his candidacy—being left standing time after time, turn after turn, and only finally impressing months before he would have aged out promoted a low self-confidence and a desperate need for approval from others that has only yet begun to dull as Marasemeth has reassured him that he is a good, and strong person. Now in his thirties, it is more a force of habit than born out of genuine self-doubt.
Because it is Marasemeth that has essentially validated his entire existence he is understandably protective of the blue. However, he is so conscious of the danger of losing the blue, so petrified of letting that happen, of being alone again, he frequently goes beyond what is normal or even appropriate with safety measures. He would rather insist that the blue sit quietly with him than let the dragon go be social with other dragons. He argues regularly over if the blue will chase in flights or not. He is like the parent that would rather have his child avoid all scrapes and falls than let the child fall and learn from it. And now that thread has reappeared...
Pros: Dutiful, polite, appreciative, confident in Marasemeth. Cons: Emotionally cold, over-protective, reserved, unsure of anything BUT his dragon.
History: Galavar was born in Monaco Weyr. The first son of a greenrider who could name her rider ancestry back for generations and a once-holder brownrider, he had moderately more contact with his parents (or his father at least) than some. Raised to weyr life, he like so many dreamed of impressing his own partner to soar the skies with. He was a typical child, energetic and open to most anything, and as happy as could be for a long time. Though his parents did not stay together, they did produce a daughter together as well, and Galavar did his best to take care of her and stand in for his increasingly absent parents. Combined with the weyr's existing method of child-rearing, they wanted for little through youth.
Eventually Galavar grew into the age of candidacy. He eagerly joined the crew of white-robed children, and though time and again he was left standing, his confidence stayed firm. At least until his younger sister turned against him. It was simply the reaction of a young, lonely child who couldn't grasp why her big brother best friend suddenly had no time for anything but those stupid dragon eggs, coupled with an already sour, poor attitude. She told him he would never impress, that no dragon would ever want him, that she didn't want him any more, because he'd left left her. Despite repeated attempts to bridge the gap that had formed, he never managed to do it. It was through no fault of his own—he did all he could to re-win her affections, but she had decided that to avoid being left behind again, she would never let him in.
When the day came for his sister to become a candidate, he thought perhaps they might rebond over the shared experience—for he still hadn't impressed. Instead she made a game of tormenting him, teasing him for still not impressing. Reminding him that he had only a few turns left. Eventually he stopped trying, but her taunts continued. That he continued to be passed by made him wonder if in fact she was right. Perhaps the dragons knew he'd abandoned her to stand as candidate, and disagreed. He couldn't know. He did make some plans for the day he aged out. The weyr starsmiths found in him a willing student. If nothing else, he would have that to return to, he comforted himself to think.
The first clutch of his final turn of standing was the turning point. At long last his dragon came. A perfect, wonderful blue. "Just" a blue to some, especially his sister (herself now half through her tenure as candidate and unbonded) but a Faranth-sent blessing and a reaffirmation of his life and choices to him. Though his family relationship suffered the more for it, his own confidence began to grow again—he'd found his life's missing part, and his sister pained him, but life was just so, so good.
Hard work and an eagerness to do well that wasn't as common in those who had impressed in less desperate situations as he had helped him through lessons with ease. He continued to encourage his sister, even as he completed both his weyrling and Starsmith training, and she continued to be nothing but a petty, scathing tunnlesnake to him in return. She belittled him for only impressing a blue, though over the turns not one dragon seemed to give her a second thought.
Eventually it was she who aged out, and despite his pleas for her to stay, she left the weyr, wanting nothing to do with him. Probably she couldn't handle having to be near him after she'd failed in the same way she'd said for so long that he would. His last tie to Monaco, besides being born there, he too left for Western, as a change of pace. Turns later, thread would fall, and he would receive word of her death. Thread and the loss of his family had a peculiar effect on him. He found himself to be almost grateful that his sister had left the world...and felt such shame at that feeling that he hardly noticed the rest of the chaos in the world, taking over his home. Months later he's mostly recovered—as a rider and a starsmith life is too busy to be spent moping. He has determined not to feel badly about his feelings, as she brought them out in him. He loved his sister, once upon a time, but there's no time for love or hate or bitterness any more. He's got a world to save!
Other: He has some of the best, most stunning handwriting you'll ever see.
This character is currently inactive. Name: Marasemeth Age: 15 turns Color: Blue Size: 50' Sexuality: Bisexual, polyromantic Hatching day: 3562.06.04 AL Voice Sample: (•) - Kalecgos, World of Warcraft Significant Other: Brown Minoth (lovers) (Uta)
Physical Description: Gorgeous. Marasemeth is a slightly smaller than average blue, but still respectfully larger than many, or even most greens. His body is a lovely navy blue that pales to more sky blue on his wingsails. His color deepens to near-black on his hind legs and tail. All in all, he's very lovely...and that's even before you count the intricate lines and swirls of pale near-glowing blue that trace from his eyes down the top of his neck, over his back, down his hind legs, and encompass his tail. The twisting markings are striking and unique, lending a sense of elegance to his otherwise plain (if attractive) skin.
Form-wise he is the very picture of draconic anatomy. His body and legs are perfectly formed--the only 'flaws' are dainty claws and a shade-too-large head. His natural neutral expression is also unusual in that he seems to be smiling constantly. It seems odd at first, but those that know him for the happy soul he is would say it looks just right.
Personality: Marasemeth is almost everything G'ar is not. His very nature is outgoing, and he enjoys meeting everyone and finding out daily what everyone around him is up to. He likes to stick his nose into others' business and struggles to realize that sometimes that attention is unwanted or rude. He is always happy to help with whatever troubles he uncovers, but he can never grasp that he himself might be causing some, or making them worse. As far as he knows, it's his job to help, to do right, and he is thoroughly befuddled when his assistance or attention are rejected.
Because he doesn't realize that he's not helping some times, and is so firmly sure that he can help, he comes across as pushy and talkative. No, really, he can help! Just, no, stop! Listen!! He can help! It is up to G'ar to do damage control and reign him in. He only ever apologizes to G'ar, because he can feel the stress it causes his rider through their bond. Of course, his rider can never stay mad at him, and Mara knows he is G'ar's greatest treasure and reason for living. For a day or two, until he forgets, he does try to do better.
Just like he's self-assured, he has total confidence in G'ar. He wishes his rider would make friends—he knows he would be a GREAT friend—but at the same time wouldn't change him for the world.
Threadfall Stats: HP: 25/25 Status Effect: None. XP: Target Accuracy: 12 Flame Length: 6 General Stamina: 6 General Agility: 5 Between Accuracy: 6 Pain Resilience: 7 Instinct: 5 Luck: 4
Flight History:
Shelled 3562.06.04 Able to chase 3563.01.04 Record: 1/2 recorded wins -3567.13—caught green Alcherath -3573.03—chased green Ysalth
Playlist
G'ar X
Marasemeth X
Marasemeth and Altoth X
Instrumentals X
RP Logs (•) – [PRP] Blue's Got the Blues [G'ar/Salva] (•) – [ORP] Spring Fever's Sprung—Green Ysalth's Flight (•) – [PRP] All Work and No Play [G'ar K'tos, & Salva]
Family
Faranie – dawns_aura – His younger sister, supposedly aged-out candidate, location unknown (presumed deceased). Actually a rider at High Reaches. A'ste – NPC, brownrider at Monaco Bay Weyr, deceased (First Fall). Galnia – NPC, greenrider at Monaco Bay Weyr, deceased (betweening accident).
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Posted: Fri Jan 27, 2017 8:18 am
This character is currently inactive. Name: Tyila Age: 26 turns Sex: Female Sexual Orientation: Heterosexual Weyr: High Reaches Weyr Rider Rank: Wingrider (Trespassers Wing) Previous Rank/Craft: Weavercraft, apprentice Nameday: 3551.08.26 AL Voice Sample: (•) - Elisif the Fair, Skyrim Significant Other: T'rel of Green Tyalith (weyrmate) (Thaliawen)
Physical Description: Tylia is a barely budding wisp of a young woman, barely changed since her teenage years. She's small, rail-like, and has a perpetually terrified demeanor. She barely brushes the 5' mark, and seems to have plenty of growing and filling out to do, or would, if she wasn't already done growing. Life on the move, especially in the wilds with her "family", has given her tanned skin that is unmarred by pimple scars of teenage years gone by, though one faint scar traces across her right cheek, just below her eye. Her eyes are wide to match her almost childishly round face, and a typical but pleasant rich brown shade. Her nose and mouth are small in comparison; her brows are often knit in concern or distress. Life as a rover, especially for a child, is difficult, and she will go on to form wrinkles early (though not yet) if she keeps it up. Her limbs are delicate and her fingers thin and fine. Her hair has only the faintest of waves, and is a nondescript dark brown, typical of Pernese. She often wears it tied up in a small bun, as she's done for turns.
She is rather feminine, to the extent that one could be when living with an ever-moving group of outcasts. She enjoys wearing skirts and dresses of light but covering fabrics—she wouldn't dare wear anything that rises past mid-calf. Most of her clothing is inexpertly made, and somewhat clumsily constructed, but it is durable and gets the job done, regardless of its ill state of matching and somewhat worn look. Boots are the order of the day for footwear, and hers match her clothing in being worn, but more than usable. She has very few trinkets or flashy items, though she often has been starstruck by the beautiful things raiders brought back from the holds and weyrs in the past.
Personality: Prior to these recent events of madness she was a cheerful, if shy girl. Soft-spoken and demure, she kept mostly to herself and did her very best to stay out of the way, out of trouble. She rarely if ever complains about anything, and does her best to always do her best, even at tasks that reward no praise. She prefers to avoid conflict than fight it out, and deals with things like bullying by running away and hiding. She isn't likely to tattle; that might only make the bullies angry, after all. She's always felt it better just to keep her head down and do what she's told, and to enjoy not being in trouble and making what friends she could.
Around strangers she's terribly shy; timid and submissive indeed. She hates to upset or anger people, and will do her best to appeal to someone in a non-pushy way. Once she's made a friend she comes out of her shell more and more. She will never be a brave friend, or a bold one, but if you've grown really dear to her she might occasionally hazard giving her real opinion on things, rather than constantly going along with what others want; or maybe if she felt you were trustworthy she might ask your opinion on something. It isn't that she's meant to be a follower forever, she's just too scared of messing up and losing her few friends to dare be more outgoing, even around them. She just wants to be liked and not driven away or get in trouble. So even around her friends she keeps her opinions very close to her vest.
Since the events of late, her world's been turned quite upside down. Both parents dead, and on the run from everyone and everything she'd known all her life, thread falling from the sky for the first time in more or less ever? She's been a breath away from a breakdown for months, though she finally seems to be calming down now that she is safely ensconced in High Reaches (though that of course has brought its own selection of challenges for her.)
History: Her parents left (read: were chased out of) their home hold for some reason she's never been quite sure of. The truth was that her father had been caught rigging betting on fighting whers, and skipped out on too many bets. He and his wife who was just starting to show her pregnancy fled, and eventually come to join a band of holdless. As they'd never been branded exiles, the group thought it safe enough to absorb the tiny family, and off they went into the wilds together. Several months later, as babies are wont to do, Tyila was born.
Her life was fairly normal for a holdless child, moving from place to place and learning to pull her weight around the group. Her parents never had any more children, perhaps thinking one was hard enough to care for in the rugged lifestyle. She managed to live through her youth possibly because of this devoted attention, and was taken under the wing of an old but skilled weaver journeyman, who'd been ousted from his old hold for making the Holder's wife something she found 'clashing', at the age of 12, thanks to her nimble and slender fingers. Barely had she begun to gain skill in the craft when things started heading downhill.
A newcomer, and this one firmly branded an exile, took over leadership of the group. What was originally a band of families just trying to get by quickly became something of a raiding band of pillagers. She saw a wher kill a man before she turned 14 turns old, and held her mother as she bled out, stabbed in the back over a bottle of wine, a turn later. A great many unpleasant things happened to the young girls and boys in their group at that time, and really it was only her perpetually underage appearance, coupled with the ability to go nearly unseen and silent, that spared her that fate.
Eventually things came to a head when a small group of men in the guise of traders gained access to a weyr with eggs on the sands. They stole three, and made it back into the brush before they could be caught. They kept on the move for sevendays after, until at last the eggs hatched. One poor dragonet simply cried out before slipping between, leaving a green and a blue behind. The blue Vigmalath impressed to the son of the group's leader. The green, Mishaath, to Tyila, tearing her from the shadows and putting her in a much unwanted spotlight of attention.
It was a miracle that she managed to survive the next half decade unbroken at all, and she was forced many times into using her dragon to help steal anything from supplies to records to livestock. She hated it so much that when finally a greenrider from High Reaches caught her snooping around near the weyr's pens, she was almost glad. If she died, she wouldn't have to steal and hurt people any more, she thought. But they didn't flame her out of the sky, or sound the alarm. Instead, he introduced himself and his dragon, and slowly over the course of months built the first real friendship she'd ever been party to, aside from that of her dragon's. Together they planned to find a way to help her escape the raiding group. She refused to turn them in or give their location, always meeting her new friend T'rel at known landmarks away from either her group or his weyr. She had no love for her 'family' of brutes, but they HAD given her life, given her food and shelter, given her Mishaath, most of all, and she decided that simply leaving and letting them escape would be enough to pay her debts. She would have to leave her father behind, but he had taken to their aggressive ways too readily for her to waver over that.
Thread precluded her terrified flight from the rogue holdless' camp. It fell the night she had meant to meet T'rel and escape at last, and in the panic of defenseless holdless running and screaming and dying around her, she simply betweened away to the hillside cave they'd meant to meet at. T'rel of course was called to battle thread, and so she waited alone for a full day before he could come for her. By the time they reached High Reaches, she was moments from collapse, and Mishaath looked ready to drop, as did the numerous other refugees from anywhere else on Pern that had been unprepared. Her origins were lost in the planet-wide chaos, and she dove into her new life with gracious and fearful eagerness, determined to both blend in and to work her best to repay this new debt, both to the weyr, and to the man she thought she might come to call weyrmate one day.
Other: She has 100% absolutely no problem taking orders. She actually probably embodies exactly what High Reaches would think a greenrider would be made up of, in some ways.
This character is currently inactive. Name: Mishaath Age: 11 turns Color: Green Size: 37' Sexuality: Asexual, panromantic Hatching day: 3566.06.03 AL Voice Sample: (•) - Alexstraza, World of Warcraft Significant Other: Green Tyalith (weyrmate) (Thaliawen)
Physical Description: She is a little, dainty green beauty with big strong hindquarters, extra long headknobs, and the biggest jewel eyes you've ever seen! She has darker wingsails, and a near-white pale belly, as well as some rather unique markings—the same near-white looks like it's been splashed on her nose, and she's dipped her toes and tailtip into it. The main of her body has a very faint speckling look to it, though of course there's no textural difference.
She looks much larger from behind than from the side or the front, as if her back end was made for a dragon several feet longer than her. Her gait is rather awkward on the ground, but she has speed. Oh boy does she have speed!
Personality: Oh dear, oh my, what is that, and that, and that? From the moment her shell cracked, Mishaath has been filled with a wide-eyed curiosity about the world—one heavily tempered by fear, for the world is just so big and, more often than not, scary! So while she really wants to know what that thing over there is...she'd really rather just watch it, thanks. At least until she knows it's safe! And if it isn't, well, expect her to be making tracks in the opposite direction. Bravery is most certainly not this little green's strong suit, and she grows increasingly anxious without the comforting presence of her bond or a friend.
When she has that comfort, however, Mishaath becomes a cheerful, chatty little green whose mind is always nibbling away at something. Have a problem? She'll happily hear you out, and then offer a heap of advice that she's put together while you were talking. She doesn't know if this advice will work, but...she has ideas! Lots of them! This can work against her in a wing, as it's easy for her to become wrapped up in the minutiae of a particular maneuver and forget that there are other moves in the drill as well. She's in luck that she's extremely quick on the wing, adept at sharp, veering turns that can give whiplash to the unwary—it gives her a chance to catch up if she falls behind.
When it comes to Flights, Mishaath rises often and quickly. While she's attentive to the needs of her rider, she prefers gentler males—bolder, more aggressive dragons intimidate her, and she will shy away.
All in all she's a bright, clever green, but full of nervous energy that can work against her just as easily as it can work for her.
Threadfall Stats: HP: 19 Status Effect: XP: Target Accuracy: 3 Flame Length: 2 General Stamina: 3 General Agility: 17 Between Accuracy: 2 Pain Resilience: 2 Instinct: 2 Luck: 5
Flight History:
Shelled 3566.06.03 Able to rise 3566.10.03 -Maiden flight 3567.02—caught by blue Vigmalath (NPC) -Rose 3568.02—caught by blue Vigmalath (NPC) -Rose 3569.02—caught by blue Vigmalath (NPC) -Rose 3570.02—caught by blue Vigmalath (NPC) -Rose 3571.02—caught by blue Vigmalath (NPC) -Rose 3572.02—caught by blue Vigmalath (NPC) -Rose 3573.12—caught by brown Irath (Shaddaling) -Rose 3574.02—caught by green Tyalith (Thaliawen) -Rose 3575.02—caught by green Tyalith (Thaliawen)
Additional Impression Info:
Inspiration: Scurry, scurry, worry, worry, Like the hare I run about, Busy, busy, in a tizzy, I only hear the voice without. Quiet, hare. Do not despair. The voice within is strong and sure. If you just listen, you'll learn your mission, Be confident and self-assured.
Rabbit energy symbolizes fear and overcoming your limiting beliefs. They are known as guides of the shadow world, which is where all our fears reside. The message of Rabbit may be asking you to examine the fear that is currently holding you back from what you would like to accomplish.
The rabbit totem is an instrument of magic and good luck. Her gifts are spontaneity, alacrity and agility. Likewise, her path guides us to go forward with positive anticipation, for rabbit brings success to all endeavors. Rabbit is also a symbol of reproduction and abundance. The lesson is to create joy and faithfulness within our friendships. Finally, rabbit teaches us to overcome our fears as we take a conscious leap into new territory.
Origin of Name: In Anishinaabe mythology, particularly among the Ojibwa, Nanabozho [nɐˌnɐbʊˈʒʊ] is a spirit, and figures prominently in their storytelling, including the story of the world's creation. Nanabozho is the Ojibwe trickster figure and culture hero (these two archetypes are often combined into a single figure in First Nations mythologies). He plays a similar role as the Saulteaux Wiisagejaak (Cree Wisakedjak). The Algonquin had a similar figure called Ganoozhigaabe (Abenaki Gluskabe).
Nanabozho most often appears in the shape of a rabbit and is characterized as a trickster. In his rabbit form, he is called Mishaabooz ("Great rabbit" or "Hare") or Chi-waabooz ("Big rabbit"). He was sent to Earth by Gitchi Manitou to teach the Ojibwe. One of his first tasks was to name all the plants and animals. Nanabozho is considered to be the founder of Midewiwin. Like the Egyptian god Thoth, he is thought to be the inventor of fishing and hieroglyphs. This deity is a shape-shifter and a cocreator of the world.[2][3] In more recent myths among the Ojibwe, Nanabozho saves the forests from Paul Bunyan. They fought for forty days and nights, and Nanabozho killed Bunyan with a Red Lake walleye.
Written by: Excited Apathy
Why Me? Little Tyila and little Mishaath are indeed a pair made in... well... some sort of incredibly sugary land! Sweet as pie, Mishaath is very much enamored of all of Tyila's good points, and don't you worry, she's not upset that sometimes Tyila feels the need to run away! Running can be good after all! No one wants to get hurt, and she certainly doesn't want to hurt anybody! But maybe, just maybe, together they can learn to be a little stronger. Running isn't bad, but neither is standing up for what they believe in.
(•) – [PRP] Weyrwarming [Tyila/T'rel & Mishaath/Tyalith] (•) – [PRP] A Greyish Hue Bodes Ill [Tyila, Mishaath, and Dristan] (•) – [PRP] Kind and Gentle Friends [Tyila/Seikih] (•) – [PRP] Feast of Sorrows [Tyila/Tass/T'rel] (•) – [PRP] Dragonweavers: Thread and thread [Tyila,Ichta,Dragons] (•) – [GREEN FLIGHT]Today Only! Two For the Price of One! (•) – [PRP] Here's a Title (Tyalith, Mishaath) (•) – [IC]Threadfall: High Reaches - OVER!
Family T'rel – Thali – Her weyrmate, rider of green Tyalith at High Reaches Weyr. Yilav – Father, holdless, presumed dead. Tysha – Mother, holdless, deceased (murdered). Ionan – Thali – T'rel's little brother.
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Posted: Sun Jan 29, 2017 8:53 am
This character is currently inactive. Name: L'an (previously Laflan) Age: 50 turns Sex: Male Sexual Orientation: Bisexual Weyr: Western Weyr Rider Rank: Wingrider (Star Flame Wing) Previous Rank/Craft: Fishercraft (apprentice) Nameday: 3527.13.02 AL Voice Sample: (•) - Raynor, Starcraft/Heroes of the Storm Significant Other: None—available.
Physical Description: Just about everything about L'an comes across as 'sandy'. Strapping even as he's swiftly crested the hill of life, not quite over the hill yet, but nearing his peak or teetering and about to topple; he's got his share of cuts turned scars, and calloused hands with thick fingers. Tan from a life of outdoor activity, his skin has a somewhat gritty texture to it—and he's hairy to boot. From tip to toes, he's covered in thick swatches of brown hair--several shades lighter than the honey-gold locks he sports above. His hair is kept short—not cropped, but several months' worth of growing away from being long enough to tie back. Robust sideburns come close to linking it with a similarly regal goatee that is almost long enough to count as a real beard.
His clothes are utilitarian and plain; rough garments made of sturdy material suited for constant wear and tear, easily replaced and cheap to make. Through the gap of a half-open tunic, beneath the thick weave of chest hair, his tan skin is crossed and creased with tattoos in golden ink to match his hair. They range from stripes to jagged swirls, and don't seem to depict anything particular so much as simply provide an interesting distraction from the otherwise plain (though not at all unenjoyable) lines of his chest and abdomen.
His constant demeanor is one of nonplussed indifference; his lips form up into a thin frown-like line and his leaf-green eyes often are darkened by their half-lidded state (not to mention the shade cast from his bushy, creased brows.) His chin juts a bit—the lingering effect of a minor under bite.
Personality: L'an is an overall less than interested person. No, not less than interesting. Less than interested. He has his interests (sailing, dragons, good food, politics) but beyond devoting most of his free time to them, he shows no passion for them or any other endeavors. He gives his time freely and willingly, and will do a task to completion and well enough to do it right...but he seems to make no emotional connection, neither good nor bad, towards what works he does. He is aware of consequences, aware of the value others place on things he seems unimpressed by, and he has the tact to not offend with his disinterest, but it still seems to give him a slightly strange vibe. Vapid to some, cold to others, or even simply aloof.
Out of that indifference comes both some of his best and worst aspects. He understands fully (on an intellectual level) the drive in others to perfect a craft or skill, and gives his complete support to anyone, especially his dragon, when they express their desire to do so. At the same time, he offers that support regardless of the motive or means others might have. He will stand by, silent, uninterested, but there for whomever, regardless of if they are teaching children to read or training firelizards to attack the faces of someone's enemy.
Of course, that permissive nature often comes back to bite him in the arse, and he's got no trouble apologizing (though the deadpan delivery and lack of genuine regret he backs it with tends to leave people feeling rather shafted.)
Despite his faults, he is a genuine asset in the sky. As close to a Pernese militant as can be found, he will follow orders to the letter, and do his duty at any cost—through danger, injury, and beyond. That's not to say he makes a big deal of it—he approaches wing drills and target practice with the same lackadaisical sense of disinterest as everything else he puts his hand to. But should he do a maneuver wrong, or miss his shot, he'll still be there, doing it over and over to perfection, with the same blasé expression, long after everyone else's tucked in for dinner and called it a day.
History: Born to a seafaring family of four in a seafaring hold on the eastern fringes of the northern half of the world, he spent his early life mending nets and gutting fish. As soon as he reached double digits of age, his father scooped him up from his mother's arms and deposited him on the deck of a ship. He learned to sail, to fish, to haul lines and read the sea and sky for direction. He grew tall and strong in no time at all, and felt sure that one day he would follow along with his father and crew one of the hold's ships under a captain. He would provide the hold, Pern, with food and wares sent by sea.
Of course, the searchriders of Benden had otherwise to say. His parents all but offered him up on a platter to the green that came calling one day—not out of dislike for their child, but rather out of a rare and old-fashioned sense of awe for the great beasts of the sky. Never one to argue, young Laflan went along with it. That Benden had more than her fair share of good wines to be sipped in secret did much to ease any longing he had for the sea.
After a turn or two, clutches rare and few and far between, he found himself staring into rainbow-swirled eyes with many facets, and a weyrling. It was a surprise, but one he accepted. To give up one life he'd loved for a singularly important and precious partner, dripping with egg-goo and speckled with sand, and staring at him with all the love in the world? What could he do but accept it?
He passed his training with flying, if unremarkable colors. He became a wingrider, and more or less just hung around for turns after. A handful of turns more after, when he could count twelve winters spent at Benden, a late-turn storm stole away his family off the coast; father and brother lost at sea, and his mother had withered and died of grief shortly after. The following morning the weyrleader received his request for a transfer. With no reason to keep him—no thread in the sky, more dragons than they could find messages or deliveries or people to transport, L'an's move was approved.
Seven turns he passed at Ista, before transferring again. No record followed him of duties skimped or fights with others. There was no reason for either weyr to be rid of him, but with peace on Pern and naught to do but eke out some semblance of importance with the less and less interested holds, there was similarly no reason to demand he stay. Along the way at his second weyr he did pick up a bit of...cargo. A courtesan at the hold approached him with her infant son, and whether she claimed it was his own, or made some other convincing argument...or maybe L'an was just looking for some form of family now that his own was dead and gone, it didn't matter. He adopted the kid, and has carted him around with him ever since.
His third weyr was Western, and there he remained for many turns before thread came to make his world a bit more interesting. His son, of course, came with him, and though he easily turned over a large portion of the duties of raising him to the weyr's staff, he's kept involved. His door's ever remained open to Wren, and with thread on the horizon again he's found a growing need to see him more and more often.
Other: He used to sail on a crew before he was searched, and has helped out occasionally after he impressed. He can rig up sails in his sleep to this day.
Name: Alcherath Age: 31 turns Color: Green Size: 40' Sexuality: Heterosexual Hatching day: 3545.13.07 AL Voice Sample: (•) - Yu'lon, World of Warcraft Significant Other: Blue Detlath (crush—when she remembers) (Pach)
Physical Description: Alcherath is a bit on the small side for a green, though by no means the tiniest dragon around. Her wispy nature seems to come through in her build as well—she's slender and reedy and looks like she could blow away on a stiff breeze, though that'd actually suit her just fine. Her snout is a bit shorter than usual, giving her the draconic equivalent of a cherubic baby face.
Personality: Introspective, easy-going and a little on the private side, this dragon is a dreamer. Whether with a group of other dragons or alone with her rider, Alcherath is perfectly content. She tends to be a little on the quiet side, not because she is shy, but more because she feels that most of the time nothing needs to be said. She seems a little distant at times, sometimes taking a few minutes to reply to some statement directed at her, and even then seems that she didn’t put as much thought as those few minutes warranted.
In other words, Alcherath is kind of an airhead. She’s a little on the forgetful side, even for a dragon, needing to be reminded several times occasionally, whether it be to be down in the Weyrbowl in a few so that her rider can give her a bath or relay a message from another rider via mindspeak. Or perhaps she just ignores them, more entertained by her own light, distant thoughts than the prospect of a bath. For whatever reason, things tend to be overlooked when it comes to Alcherath.
That being said, Alcherath loves the prospect of flying, especially the concept of flying through clouds. Something about being in the air seems romantic to her. What she doesn’t understand is that clouds are water, and therefore if she flies through clouds, she will probably make her rider a little wet. This thought doesn’t really occur to her, only adding to the concept that she may, in fact, be a little thoughtless at times.
It wouldn’t be far off to say that Alcherath could be a romantic, in a sense, and never seems to worry, or for that matter think about, things that may not be as pleasant as swimming or flying. She sees the world not necessarily through a pair of unique, multi-faced rose-colored glasses.
Threadfall Stats: HP: 20/20 Status Effect: XP: Target Accuracy: 7 Flame Length: 4 General Stamina: 8 General Agility: 18 Between Accuracy: 5 Pain Resilience: 5 Instinct: 5 Luck: 7
Flight History:
Shelled 3545.13.07 Able to rise 3546.07.07 -Maiden flight 3546.07—caught by ??? -3546.10—caught by ??? -3546.13—caught by bronze Garganth (Tsunake) -3547.04—caught by ??? -3547.07—caught by ??? -3547.10—caught by ??? -3547.13—caught by ??? -3548.04—caught by ??? -3548.07—caught by ??? -3548.10—caught by bronze Garganth (Tsunake) -3548.13—caught by ??? -3549.04—caught by ??? -3549.07—caught by ??? -3549.10—caught by ??? -3549.13—caught by ??? -3550.04—caught by ??? -3550.07—caught by ??? -3550.10—caught by ??? -3550.13—caught by ??? -3551.04—caught by ??? -3551.07—caught by ??? -3551.10—caught by ??? -3551.13—caught by ??? -3552.04—caught by ??? -3552.07—caught by ??? -3552.10—caught by ??? -3552.13—caught by ??? -3553.04—caught by ??? -3553.07—caught by ??? -3553.10—caught by ??? -3553.13—caught by ??? -3554.04—caught by ??? -3554.07—caught by ??? -3554.10—caught by ??? -3554.13—caught by ??? -3555.04—caught by ??? -3555.07—caught by ??? -3555.10—caught by ??? -3555.13—caught by ??? -3556.04—caught by ??? -3556.07—caught by blue Mnereth (Tsunake) -3556.10—caught by ??? -3556.13—caught by ??? -3557.04—caught by ??? -3557.07—caught by ??? -3557.10—caught by ??? -3557.13—caught by ??? -3558.04—caught by ??? -3558.07—caught by ??? -3558.10—caught by ??? -3558.13—caught by ??? -3559.04—caught by ??? -3559.07—caught by ??? -3559.10—caught by ??? -3559.13—caught by ??? -3560.04—caught by ??? -3560.07—caught by ??? -3560.10—caught by ??? -3560.13—caught by ??? -3561.04—caught by ??? -3561.07—caught by ??? -3561.10—caught by ??? -3561.13—caught by ??? -3562.04—caught by ??? -3562.07—caught by ??? -3562.10—caught by ??? -3562.13—caught by ??? -3563.04—caught by ??? -3563.07—caught by ??? -3563.10—caught by ??? -3563.13—caught by ??? -3564.04—caught by ??? -3564.07—caught by ??? -3564.10—caught by ??? -3564.13—caught by ??? -3565.04—caught by ??? -3565.07—caught by ??? -3565.10—caught by blue Mnereth (Tsunake) -3565.13—caught by ??? -3565.04—caught by ??? -3565.07—caught by ??? -3565.10—caught by ??? -3565.13—caught by ??? -3566.04—caught by ??? -3566.07—caught by ??? -3566.10—caught by bronze Yffengeth (Teiha) -3566.13—caught by blue Detlath (demon_pachabel) -3567.04—caught by bronze Delfrith (Teiha) -3567.07—caught by ??? -3567.10—caught by ??? -3567.13—caught by blue Marasemeth -3568.04—3568.04—caught by bronze Garganth (Tsunake) -3568.07—caught by ??? -3568.10—caught by ??? -3568.13—caught by ??? -3569.04—caught by bronze Delfrith (Teiha) -3569.07—caught by ??? -3569.10—caught by ??? -3569.13—caught by ??? -3570.04—caught by ??? -3570.07—caught by ??? -3570.10—caught by ??? -3570.13—caught by brown Phylideth (demon_pachabel) -3571.04—caught by ??? -3571.07—caught by brown Auroth (Teiha) -3571.10—caught by ??? -3571.13—caught by ??? -3572.04—caught by brown Auroth (Teiha) -3572.07—caught by brown Phylideth (demon_pachabel) -3572.10—caught by ??? -3572.13—caught by bronze Delfrith (Teiha) -3573.04—caught by ??? -3573.07—caught by blue Detlath (demon_pachabel) -3573.10—caught by brown Teth (houllow) -3573.13—caught by brown Phylideth (demon_pachabel) -3574.04—caught by bronze Nasath -3574.07—caught by ??? -3574.10—caught by brown Auroth (Teiha) -3574.13—caught by ??? -3575.04—caught by ??? -3575.07—caught by ???
Additional Impression Info:
The African Sunset Uh... everyone else gets a pretty paragraph about the animal their egg was based on here, but you're special. Super special. biggrin Your egg was chosen because African sunsets are seriously like the most gorgeous thing ever. But if you want some random copy/paste wikipedia stuff...
Sunset is the daily disappearance of the sun below the horizon as a result of the Earth's rotation. The atmospheric conditions created by the setting of the sun are also commonly referred to as "a sunset". These conditions often appear before and after the precise moment the sun disappears below the horizon, and as a result the term "sunset" in common usage has a substantially looser meaning than in scientific and technical applications. (Description by Nata)
Dreamtime Your dragon is also unique in that she's not based around a specific God or Goddess- she is based on the Australian idea of Dreamtime. In Australian Aboriginal mythology, The Dreaming or Altjeringa (also called the Dreamtime[citation needed]) is a sacred 'once upon a time' time out of time in which ancestral Totemic Spirit Beings formed The Creation.
"Dreaming" is also often used to refer to an individual's or group's set of beliefs or spirituality. For instance, an Indigenous Australian might say that they have Kangaroo Dreaming, or Shark Dreaming, or Honey Ant Dreaming, or any combination of Dreamings pertinent to their "country". However, many Indigenous Australians also refer to the creation time as "The Dreaming". The Dreamtime laid down the patterns of life for the Aboriginal people. "The Dreaming" was the time of creation.
Oh God, Why Me? Laflan needed a push in personality, in one direction or another. He seems grounded as well, which is something dreamy Alcerath needs. She'll help him develop as a person, and he'll keep her from accidentally killing herself.
(•) – [PRP] Fishing For Company [L'an/N'var] (•) – [PRP] Far From The Maddening Crowd [L'an & Finbar] (•) – [PRP] Goldflight Good Times [L'an/Migel]
Family Savol – NPC younger brother, was lost at sea in his late teens and presumed deceased. Volafo – NPC, a sailor, deceased (lost at sea). Lanissa – NPC, deceased (grief). Wren – Wish – Adopted son, currently a candidate at Western Weyr. Lafemy – Thali – Son, unknown to him, fostered to HR. **Probably has several unknown children at Ista or Benden from his time there.
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Posted: Sun Jan 29, 2017 8:54 am
This character is currently inactive. Name: B'tar (Biitar) Age: 36 turns Sex: Male Sexual Orientation: Asexual, demiromantic??? Weyr: None Rider Rank: N/A Previous Rank/Craft: Starcraft (cartographer; apprentice) Nameday: 3541.05.25 AL Voice Sample: (•) - Deacon St. John, Days Gone (Sam Witwer) Significant Other: None—available.
Physical Description: B'tar is rough, muscled, and wiry in the way of people who have been on the move for the last decade. His ever-tanned skin is crossed with scratches and scars, you could probably ask him to explain how he got them all and learn most of the history of his life just listening. Claw marks from an encounter with a feral feline down south, a pair of small pucker-like scars in his left shoulder from arrows up north. More tiny nicks than you could possibly count. He's had a wild, hard, active life, though none of it seems to have slowed him down.
His 5'8" frame is packed with muscle, and his clothing is often unusual, mixed pieces from exotic locations, typically patched or sewn together in order to lengthen their lives before being reduced to rags. He's no weaver, but practice makes perfect, and he's done well enough to not look immediately homeless (though he'd certainly stand out!) if he made one of his rare visits to a hold or weyr.
His hair and eyes are both dark and severe, and most of his head is shorn close, except for a longer streak across the top of his head, pulled into a tangled, frizzy tail at the back. His nose is crooked, broken more than once, and otherwise plump lips have been split by a blade at some point in the past. Miraculously, he still has all his teeth, and against his weather-beaten skin they seem almost unnaturally white.
Personality: B'tar is not mean. He isn't. What he is, however, is completely independent and unwilling to listen to anyone or anything he disagrees with. Curt, cold, and honest to the point of being crass, he speaks his mind and never pulls his punches. And why bother? Odds are he'll never speak to the same person twice in a turn, if ever, and he feels no compulsion to build or maintain relationships with anyone.
He LOVES the outdoors, the wild empty parts of Pern, and obviously has devoted his life to exploring them. While he feels he has no time to spare on talking with people, he'll gladly sit atop Efraath, staring at a sunrise or a gorge or a vast jungle for hours. He has a deep sense of wonder and beauty, and if he had the concept of religion, would say that Pern's natural wild places are his. On Earth, he probably would have been a deep forest ranger, or some other job that took him out into the wilds for months with no contact. His anti-social nature is often confused with introversion or a shallow personality, but it's more that he finds all his social needs are met by Efraath. No one else could understand him as well, and he doesn't think he needs to explain himself otherwise.
So he loves nature, but he also thrives in it. Turns and turns of life on the wing has made him vastly knowledgeable of hunting tactics, edible plants, how to make his own tools and weapons (all entirely serviceable, but crude, and often simply wood and stone) fishing, and general survival skills. He barely carries more than one or two bags of supplies, so every day he rebuilds what he needs if it was left behind the day before.
Pros: Independent, adaptable, resourceful, detail-oriented. Cons: Impatient, anti-social, lacks capacity to bond with anyone other than Efraath, aloof.
History: Biitar was born somewhere near Landing, near Monaco. Ever a stoic child, he has no memory of his own parents, and moved from foster family to foster family over the turns. This sort of consistent moving made him more aware of the surrounding area than most his age, and once he was searched from a cothold on his 14th turn, he was snapped up by a journeyman starsmith to assist in mapping the region. He might not know the exact shape of the coast, or quite how far the Barrier Range was from the weyr, but he knew the small areas he'd lived in with exhaustive, intimate levels of detail that had the man swearing and crowing and wishing that the boy'd been a proper apprentice, not a candidate.
A turn later he impressed to a strapping, if grouchy brown dragonet. Training took as much of his time as mapping, and the quiet, stoic boy began to show the strain of splitting his focus, and the increased social demands on him. Ever empathetic, Efraath quietly began to encourage him to rebel against the weyrling master (because mapping was a passion, and training only a requirement) and the pair were in and out of trouble for a turn and a half.
At 16 turns of age, when Efraath was well and fully grown, the pair simply left. The old journeyman was the only one they forewarned, and they never looked back. For 15 turns they have been living mostly alone, ranging the entire breadth and width of Pern. About once a month they've been spotted at some weyr or hold, selling odds and ends or trading for supplies before vanishing again. They've been seen in more than one caravan also, and often turn up sporting entirely unusual attire.
They aren't public about it, but the pair has spent the last 15 turns making complex, detailed maps of a portion of the planet. They've shown them to no one, and are prepared to spend another 50, 60, 70 turns finishing them. Of course, now with thread, life has been a lot more complicated for them, so they've been debating on giving what's done to the starsmith hall before it's accidentally lost.
Other: There are probably some areas he'd be very unwelcome, as he has a reputation for taking animals to feed Efraath, often without asking if they've been hungry long enough.
Name: Efraath Age: 21 turns Color: Brown Size: 68' Sexuality: Heterosexual, demiromantic Hatch day: 3556.11.22 AL Voice Sample: (•) - Malthael, Diablo III: Reaper of Souls Significant Other: None—available.
Physical Description: Efraath is a warm shade of brown, almost chocolate- or mahogany-like...not that those words would mean anything to anyone on Pern. 34' long, he is fairly average in length, though his well-muscled hind legs make him stand out, as do the darker speckle markings down his neck and back. Really he'd be a terribly handsome brown, if not for his consistant bad attitude.
Personality: Solitary life is probably best for Efraath, because he has a fairly ugly personality, all told. He's often angry around others, especially if they think less of him for his chromatic skin, and he's too clever by half. He clings to his grudges and often attempts to get back at those he's thought of as slighting him. Or would have, if they weren't typically half of Pern away within days. He'd much rather spend all his time alone with HIS person, and enjoys being totally wrapped up in whatever his rider's passions are.
He rouses to anger quickly, and often has to stay a little ways off when B'tar is bartering or trading with people, lest some perceived slight set him off. Of course he can't hurt anyone, but that doesn't mean he can't hurt things or buildings. He finds a way to make his ire known, and leaves his rider to clean up the mess.
Shelled 3556.11.22 Able to chase 3557.07.22 Record: 2/4 recorded wins -3564.08—caught gold Sharath (NPC) -3568.04—caught green Erinyeth (demon_pachabel) -3573.08—chased green Eosphoth (demon_pachabel) -3574.06—chased green Cynosuth (mr cheri)
Clutches
Nabol Hold 3564.10.05 Sharath x Efraath (brown) 19 Eggs 0 gold / 0 bronze / 4 browns / 7 blues / 8 greens
(•) – [PRP] Mapping Out Trouble [B'tar/Tonete] (•) – [ORP] Hot Days and Cool Waves (Weyrless Dragons!) (•) – [ORP] Catch a Falling Star - Cynosuth's Maiden Flight
Family M'lus – Tsunake – A roving mercenary, now bronzerider at Western Weyr. Neither has ever met the other, nor knows of them. Tareba – NPC mother, he never met/knew her. **Probably had several foster siblings at Landing or Monaco. Estranged.
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ShinosBee
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Posted: Sun Jan 29, 2017 8:56 am
This character is currently inactive. Name: Kahina Age: 32 turns Sex: Female Sexual Orientation: Pansexual, Aromantic Weyr: Other (Zanoma Camp) Rider Rank: N/A Previous Rank/Craft: Beastcraft (apprentice) Nameday: 3546.01.19 AL Voice Sample: (•) - Jaina, World of Warcraft/Heroes of the Storm Significant Other: None—available.
Physical Description: Kahina is a child of the sky and the wind and the rustling of the tall grass. Much of her look seems styled to intentionally make her look slightly fey and wild, which is how she wants it. She has a firm tan from hours spent in the sun, and if you're terribly lucky (or unlucky, depending) you might get to find out that that tan stretches to every inch of her body. She often wears flowers or feathers or strands of long grass in her hair, arranged artfully to look unintentionally beautiful. Her hair itself is pale brown, and laced with sun-bleached streaks.
She typically wears less clothes than more, though never to the point of outright exposure or impropriety. She's fond of tassels and bangles, anything that moves and sways and entices her prey pretty men and women. Beneath her clothes she has the body of a runner, or perhaps a dancer; she is plainly athletic, with long limbs and very little in terms of breasts or hips, which she doesn't seem to particularly mind.
Personality: Life is meant to be lived, and shard it all if Kahina doesn't mean to live it. She does what she wants, when she wants, and how she wants, and to between with anyone who'd like to tell her otherwise. A hedonist at heart, she thinks life should be anything goes (as long as no one gets hurt...or at least no one she cares about, or as long as whomever it is can't catch her after!) and sees no problem with doing things illegal or immoral to get a thrill or what she wants. It's not that she has no concept of consequence, more that she thinks that she's above such things, too fast too catch, too free to pin down.
She knows that she's beautiful, and uses that to her advantage at the drop of a hat. Along with that, or perhaps because of it, she struggles to find worth in lasting bonds. Why tether herself to one man or woman or place or time (OOC: Obviously I won't play her timing it, but she's the type who, if she could or wanted to, she would, and make no nevermind of it!) when the whole world is out there to be tasted, and left lusting after her in her wake. Her heart belonged to no one until Ysalth, and the green has the whole of it in her green-skinned talons now. They're all either of them needs, and they thrive off of each other's support and love, making her even more certain that life is meant to be lived the way she's living it.
She does want to be seen as important, she has an ambitious streak, but struggles to see tasks through when they turn out to be harder or more long-term than she expected. She often bites off more than she can chew, and not all of her exits have been on good terms with everyone, obviously.
Pros: Confident, free-spirited, ambitious. Cons: Vain, treacherous, hasty.
History: Kahina has never been the kind to stay put. Born somewhere, raised everywhere else, her history is one of constant motion, movement, and no real solid records exist anywhere of who she is or where she's from. She's certain she had family, parents, because obviously she had to, and that they belonged to a caravan of some kind, but as a wee child she snuck away during a gather, and they were never heard from again. She spent some time in a weyr, more time in another caravan, and on and on and on from one misadventure to the next.
At some point along the line, she breezed into another weyr, just in time for a gold's flight. She fell into bed with some rider or other (possibly more than one) and hung about to enjoy the affair so long that eggs were laid, hardened, and then hatched before she left again. That day she traded in her bedpartners for a perfect green dragonet, and a turn later to the day she was gone, through training and away into the bright light of day. She joined another caravan, roving with them and showing Ysalth some of her favorite bits of Pern. Eventually they stumbled upon the Zanoma camp, and the pair were there when thread returned. Keen on the un-weyr'd people's view on the merits of brown and blue and green, they'd hung about, and found themselves more or less 'stuck' for a time as they helped to deal with the silver threat. Still more inclined to come and go than stay, every day has become a debate on if they mean to stay and try to join up properly, or finally put their tails to the western continent. Ysalth feels the need to fight thread, but both of them feel the call of the open sky as well...
This character is currently inactive. Name: Ysalth Age: 6 turns Color: Green Size: 44' Sexuality: Pansexual Hatching day: 3571.02.15 AL Voice Sample:(•) - Mephala, Skyrim Significant Other: None—available.
Physical Description: Ysalth is as wild and whip-like as her rider, all lean length and no bulk at all. Tremendously fast in the air, she moves swiftly (but awkwardly) on the ground as well. Fairly middle of the road as far as coloring goes, her real claim to fame is a burst of twirling, paler markings on both her face, her right forelimb, and her left hind leg. Intricate and twisting, both she and her rider consider it a fabulous feature, and she often reclines in such a way as to show the markings off to anyone who'll look.
Personality: Ysalth is a bit more introspective than her rider, though no less prone to flights of fancy (both literal and figurative) and equally eager to indulge herself. She is a gold born in a green's skin, and the only one who thinks more of herself than she does is Kahina. Barely into adulthood, she has natural confidence as well as the reckless sureness of youth. She is immortal and unstoppable and ready to claw her way to the top of the heap, plant her flag, and then take off for the next mountain to climb.
She thinks things through more than her rider does, but only very rarely tries to keep her from doing anything. If her rider were a bit more placid, more content not to rush into things, she probably would be more upfront with her thoughts and reservations, but the two feed off each other's impulsive natures, and though Ysalth does often consider the consequences, they are only ever the short-term ones, as her memory is too short to really understand that something they do today might make trouble months in the future.
Pros: Confident, quick-witted, analytical, ambitious. Cons: Vain, short-sighted, impatient.
Flight History:
Shelled 3571.02.15 Able to chase 3571.09.15 -Maiden flight 3571.09—caught by ??? -3572.03—caught by blue Xiezhith (demon_pachabel) -3572.09—caught by bronze Casreth (Teiha) -3573.03—caught by brown Minoth (Uta) -3573.09—caught by ??? -3574.03—caught by brown Elzebuth (Tsunake) -3574.09—caught by ??? -3575.03—caught by ???
Playlist
Kahina X
Ysalth X
Instrumentals X
RP Logs
(•) – [ORP] Spring Fever's Sprung—Green Ysalth's Flight
Family Hinaeva – NPC mother, a dancer with a wandering caravan. Julaka – NPC father, a merchant with another wandering caravan. **Probably has a number of unknown half-siblings all over Pern.
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Posted: Tue Feb 21, 2017 8:27 am
Name: A'iel (Arsiel) Age: 28 turns Sex: Male Sexual Orientation: Bisexual Weyr: Western Weyr Rider Rank: Wingrider (Star Flame Wing) Previous Rank/Craft: N/A Nameday: 3550.02.12 AL Voice Sample: (•) - Peter Parker, Spider-Man PS4 Significant Other: Taiena (lover) (Pach)
Physical Description: A'iel is very unlucky, if you ask him. He has been cursed for some grievous misdeed with what seems to be an eternal baby-face. At 23 turns, he looks to be about halfway through his teen years, and it causes him daily concern. Wide pale eyes give the impression of innocence, blemish-free skin without a pimple in sight, and sleek blond hair with just a bit of fluff and curl? No, he definitely looks younger than he is.
In an attempt to compensate, probably, he makes a concerted effort to dress to his actual age and rank, making him look...typically over-dressed, to be frank. He makes sure his clothing is tailored as best can be to fit properly, lest oversized gear make him look even more ridiculous. It's a sad fact of life that he's already gone through puberty, so at 5'5" he's probably not going to get any taller, or any more masculine looking. Some days he really almost wishes he'd come back from threadfall with a cool scar, because then at least he might look a little tough...
(Think about Thomas Brodie-Sangster, in terms of how the guy is playing mid-teens roles in his mid-20s, etc.)
Personality: A'iel is a very, very hard-working young man. Primarily born out of an attempt to...compensate...for his physical shortcomings, he's determined to do twice the work in half the speed. He's a great listener, and makes a point of double and triple checking everything he puts his hand to so he can be sure it's been done right. He loved dragons as a boy, worked his butt off to be an obviously prime candidate, and then even impressed a bronze. Sadly he feels like that's more or less where he's plateaued, and despite his best efforts he feels he's been continuously passed over for consideration as a wingsecond, or really just for his advice at all.
Nasath, of course, continues to firmly remind him that he picked A'iel for a reason, but one person's (or dragon's) opinion can only go so far to keep his spirits up. Despite hailing from Benden, and thus not even really trained for threadfall, when the silver menace returned he dove into the fight in an effort to win respect. He barely escaped unscathed, and, dispirited, he left for a new weyr where people might finally at least give him the time of day.
He is also very awkward around people he's interested in, mostly because they're all mature-looking and beautiful, and he looks like a kid. He's never been with anyone aside from post-flights, and he's really certain that has to do with his looks, which obviously doesn't help his esteem at all.
Pros: Determined, devoted, a go-getter. Cons: Insecure, superficial, easily flustered.
History: Originally from Benden Hold, Arsiel was searched just prior to his 14th turn, and left his vinter parents behind once he came of standing age. He was a candidate for a mere six months before his fateful day on the sands. He nearly missed the day entirely, to be frank, too new to the weyr to be recognized on sight, and too young-looking to look right in candidate robes, he was almost shuffled aside into the pack of onlooker weyrbrats before an early-hatched bronze came creeling over to demand "why his A'iel was being taken away". Dragons knowing best and all, there was regardless a large amount of amusement at seeing the too-young-looking boy beside a dragonet already his height. And thus began his lifelong battle with his own face.
He went through what passed for training at the time, perpetually being late or harried because 'was he REALLY a rider?' or 'why wasn't he with the other candidates?' Nasath grew up swiftly, and by a turn old was clearly on the larger side of medium for a bronze, making A'iel look even smaller by comparison. Like a child atop their father's dragon, almost. The pair did all they could to make names for themselves as time passed, but not much ever came of it. Perpetually a joke, often overlooked, they considered time and again leaving Benden behind. But for what? And where? They didn't know, and so they didn't go.
Eventually thread came, and perhaps thinking this might be the moment to make a name, or just needing to release their pent up frustration, they flew into combat. Flaming in a blaze of glory, they were one of few riders to return uninjured, and semi-successful. Feeling that perhaps that meant he'd done something right, he tried to discuss possibly helping with preparing for what had to be the start of a true Pass, but once more was shut down. Dispirited and angry, he and Nasath left Benden behind. Briefly they considered High Reaches, where bronzes brought respect, but eventually set their sights on Western. If they hadn't been regarded for their color in Benden, maybe they could finally win some respect for their ideas and abilities in Western.
Other: He's really tired of being asked why he's skipping out on candidate chores or lessons when roaming the halls, please guys, he's been a rider nearly a decade! ; _; He's also pretty decent with a sword.
Name: Nasath Age: 13 turns Color: Bronze Size: 88' Sexuality: Heterosexual Hatching day: 3563.07.03 AL Voice Sample: (•) - Alarak, Heroes of the Storm Significant Other: None—available.
Physical Description: Nasath is big. Well, technically he's only just on the big side of average for a bronze, but that is still very big. Bulk is really where he starts looking larger than life. The bronze is beautifully colored, his hide a rich and consistantly dark shade, with lighter extremities and wingsails, but he is almost wher-like in build. Broad chest, thick limbs and neck, he almost looks fat...except that there's not an inch of fat on him. He's a workhorse of a dragon, and seems to have no qualms about throwing his weight around in a pinch.
Personality: Nasath loves A'iel. That one concept could sum up about 85% of what makes the bronze who he is. He struggles to see fault with his rider, and doesn't understand why no one else thinks he's as great as Nasath thinks he is. He is always willing to go along with anything A'iel says, and supports him 100%. The downside, of course, is that neither of them really knows when to stop, or when what they're trying might be a bit overmuch, or too aggressive. He is a bronze after all, and he's fairly certain he has a better grasp on how things should be than his smaller wingmates. Thankfully during drills A'iel's discipline can usually keep him in check.
When away from his rider, he's much less concerned with being the best (mostly since he already thinks that he is) and tends to laze about. If bothered, he has no trouble telling others to take a short hop between and let him nap, which has gotten the pair in some trouble before. It's not that he means any harm by it, he just exerts so much energy trying to keep up with his rider...you understand, right? Of course, the minute A'iel tells him to apologize he does, because he can't stand to have his rider upset with him for even a minute.
He has equal interest in green and gold flights, though he seems fairly unlucky with either. Too big and bulky to keep up with agile greens, and perhaps just bad luck on the part of his chances with golds, he would have developed a kind of complex about it, if he hadn't always conveniently forgotten about it a few days later.
Pros: Patient, loving, steadfast, confident. Cons: Bossy, lazy when A'iel's not looking, impolite.
Flight notes: Strength: Highest stat, 2x speed Speed: ~1/6 total score Dexterity: ~1/10 total score Stamina: 1/4 total score Wits: Middle score, remaining points
Threadfall Stats: HP: 44/44 Status Effect: None. XP: Target Accuracy: 7 Flame Length: 9 General Stamina: 14 General Agility: 5 Between Accuracy: 7 Pain Resilience: 6 Instinct: 4 Luck: 5
Flight History:
Shelled 3563.07.03 Able to chase 3564.04.03 Record: 1/4 recorded wins -3573.07—chased green Neith (BastetAmun) -3573.10—chased gold Vimiath (Teiha) -3574.04—caught green Alcherath -3575.05—chased gold Killakeeth (magnadearel)
Playlist
A'iel X
Nasath X
Instrumentals X
RP Logs: (•) – [PRP] For Real Though, I'm Not A Candidate! [Jarah/A'iel] (•) – [PRP]If You Go Down to the Woods Today [A'iel/Serfie] (•) – [PRP] Down in (Star) Flames [A'iel/Skylla] (•) – [PRP] It Doesn't Have to Be Hard [A'iel/Serfie] (•) – [PRP] Big Dragon Bath Time [A'iel/Marinel] (•) – [GREENFLIGHT] A dance with the waves (•) – [ORP] Hunting Party (Jageth/D'zek, A'iel/Nasath, & Others??) (•) – [GOLD FLIGHT] Bad Moon Rising (•) – [PRP]What Happens in Yokohama STAYS in Yokohama[A'iel/T'mor] (•) – [PRP] It's The Little Things [A'iel/Taiena] (•) – [PRP] Much Better Than A Soggy Sock [A'iel/Taiena]
Family Arston – NPC father, a vinter at Benden Weyr. Siella – NPC mother, a vinter at Bender Weyr. Sieston – Nilah44 –Younger brother at Benden Weyr.
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ShinosBee
Nerd
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ShinosBee
Nerd
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Posted: Fri Mar 10, 2017 11:54 am
Name: V'mel (Varomel) Age: 60 turns Sex: Male Sexual Orientation: Heterosexual, demiromantic. Weyr: High Reaches Weyr Rider Rank: Weyrlingmaster (Wingleader of Ashlings Wing) Previous Rank/Craft: N/A Nameday: 3517.05.24 AL Voice Sample: (•) - Alec Ryder, Mass Effect Andromeda Significant Other: Alusia (long-term friends-with-benefits, unrecognized love) (Uta)
Physical Description: A bear of a man, V'mel is as solid and steady as the rock of High reaches itself. He stands an easy 6'2", though he's certainly no beanpole—his arms and legs are corded muscle, and the whole of him seems covered in a downy fuzz of hair that is beneficial in the harsh northern winters. His hands are calloused, a few fingers missing slivers, though his nails are not quite ragged somehow. Random scars litter him head to foot, from old stab marks to burns from training weyrlings, and even more recent twists of threadscore. The man wears his story on his skin, and it is a cold, violent struggle to live and thrive by the strength of his hands and raw grit.
The left side of his hair is shaved close, partially revealing another nasty wound of old above the remaining 3/4ths of his ear, and a thick beard of brown and gray girds his chin, though it does little to hide the apparently permanent scowl he sports. His eyes match the native stone, hue and tint, and seem just as cold. All in all, he has a definite rugged handsomeness, but you probably shouldn't be heard saying that out loud.
Personality: V'mel is not the sort of man that many people like. Or any people like. Despite your feelings about him though, he's sharding good at getting the job done, and so no one can really complain. And even if they did, well, it's not like he'd listen, or care if he heard.
V'mel is old blood, as far as loyalty to High Reaches goes. He's been eating, breathing, and living the doctrine of tradition since he was weaned, and it's clear in his every action and thought. This is why they were ready, this is why they survived. The rest of Pern were shaffing idiots, and they've paid the (completely justified, if you ask him) price for their lax attitudes and subversion of the rightful way of things. V'mel is here to make sure that not only are his weyrlings capable of surviving in this world where thread has returned, but that they fall in line during the process too.
Dragonriders are Pern's military, and V'mel trains and teaches and leads as if that's all that it is. There will be no mollycoddling, and this is not the place for laughs or play. Candidates assumed the duties and responsibilities that came with the role when they signed up, and now that you've gone and impressed you want to treat it like a game? You're making a waste of yourself and your dragon, and he Will. Not. Have. It. People DIED because Pern stopped caring about thread, because of jokers who made light just like you seem to want to do. It isn't that he hates people with differing opinions, no—he's just rock solid in his, and unless you have a damn good argument, you're not going to shake him from trying to force his way.
He's been training weyrlings for two decades now, and honestly his mentality on the process hasn't changed much since thread returned. High Reaches was always preparing for this, and he's taught every class as if this would be the first to have to fight it. There have been deaths, injuries. Babes barely out the shell rendered flightless or suddenly bereft of their partner.
It's part of the cost. He really and truly believes it, and knows such things have happened since the first riders took up their straps, and he does not often consider it in any way a personal failure. Maybe it's for the best if they remove themselves from the equation before they're in a wing where they might take someone out with them... He also has clear biases towards ranking dragons. Greens and blues are there to fight thread, and keep especially their golden queens safe. If that means two, three, four times as many of them die for the sake of golds (and maybe bronzes or especially important browns), well, that's why there's so many more of them, isn't it?
In terms of relationships outside those he has in the 'workplace', he does have some friends. An 'old guard' of sorts; men about his age and with similar opinions, almost all brown or bronze riders, of course, that he doesn't mind spending time with. He's had time with one or two gold riders in his day as well, though he wouldn't really call them friends. They're his superiors, and nice as they might be to look at or chase after for a good roll during a flight, he wouldn't really dare to reach up out of his station to go for one in a long-term way, even as friends. He doesn't much care for anyone 'beneath' him, and especially those younger than him or originally from other weyrs. He'll still bend the proverbial knee for metallic riders though; dragons do know best.
History: V'mel was born in Nabol Hold, and a lot of that place is still at the core of what makes up his personality. He doesn't talk about his childhood, and it was long enough ago that there aren't much by way of records; he was searched when he was 14 and took the chance to get out, though the damage had been done. He's never bothered to go back to Nabol except on business, and it seems that once he joined the weyr he opted to live as if that was where he'd lived all his life.
He was a stoic, serious child even as a candidate. What was probably delight at being lifted up out of the cesspool of Nabol manifested as near-worship-like devotion to the weyr and its rules. In his mind it was that strict doctrine that kept High Reaches effective, safe, and more or less everything Nabol was not. He didn't just drink the kool-aid, he's learned the recipe and is helping to hand it out now. He stood a candidate until he was 20 turns old, though he didn't seem to be bothered to be left standing. Finally his Aviroth came for him, and in his mind it was all worth it. He'd never expected he'd be worth a bronze, but to be good enough for a brown? It felt right, and further solidified his opinions and feelings for High Reaches. The pair were exemplary through training, and at 21 turns he joined Tsunami Wing, strong and proud and ready to die for his weyr.
And then nothing happened. For fifteen turns, not a thing happened.
He flew his formations, he ran his drills. He never wavered, never doubted, and often spoke out against those who started to question if High Reaches had the right of things. He became a weyrling assistant at the age of thirty, because of his rigid adherence to the traditions and ideals of the weyr, and when the old weyrlingmaster passed on shortly after V'mel's 36th birthingday, he threw his proverbial hat into the ring for consideration. A spotless record, good (if somewhat harsh) character, and unwavering loyalty won him the job, and he's been doing it ever since, churning out small fleets of new riders as fast and efficiently as the weyr's golds can lay their eggs. He's handled being more or less out of the fight against thread very well now that it has returned. He'd love to fight it, of course, but he has his role, his place. Each cog must turn perfectly to spin the wheel, and he isn't here to tick out of time with the rest.
Other:
How long have they been Weyrlingmaster? 20 turns (and assistant for six turns before that).
Why were they picked for the position? Namely, he had experience, the attitude, and the right mindset, as far as the weyr was concerned. No rebel 'hippie' here to baby the new weyrlings or foster the idea of one day leaving for more progressive weyrs, he was an excellent mouthpiece for their rhetoric, and strong enough to suffer the rote losses that came with the job. That he rode a brown was an added bonus—high up enough to make sense having rank, low down enough not to possibly want to think above his station (or be at risk of becoming weyrleader). Browns traditionally made good liaisons between the metallic and chromatic worlds of dragons, and his had as good an attitude as V'mel himself did.
How do they feel about their role since Thread returned? It's just as important as it's always been. High Reaches has stood ready for generations, after all. Thread could fall, thread will fall, thread is falling, what does it matter? The only thing it changes is that more adult riders will die, and that means he'll have more classes to raise up from the increased clutches. He's a bit more aware of how many weyrlings die during training, but he doesn't think that it's something that can really be helped. If they're too weak, they're too weak, and so on. He's never been particularly personally taxed by their loss, and losing more during their first threadfall, or in their first turn of fighting thread? It won't hurt him any more or less than losing them in training, especially the blues and greens.
How do they feel about their students? They're soldiers. They're here to fight, not to be gently cradled through training. He expects total dedication in return for the reward of a dragon, and he is not afraid to break down more rebellious or free-spirited attitudes into something he can put to work for the weyr. He tends not to make any real personal connections to his students, at least not until they finish training and make their own way; they may as well have numbers and colors rather than names. That doesn't mean he hates them, of course, but he isn't here to be a friend or father figure. He's here to make them ready to fight and die for High Reaches.
What is their teaching style? Brutal? He's a taskmaster, and he doesn't put up with insubordination, laziness, or other troublesome traits well. Schedules are firmly set, and not to be debated. Weyrlings are not to be late to their lessons or chores. Rank is to be observed, and he highly encourages the weyrlings to pattern themselves after their elders in preparation for one day having to meld into and integrate with the existing ranks. He has extensively reviewed records of training methods and exercises from as far back as records go, and a good 80-85% of drills and tasks he puts his weyrlings to were in use during the 9th pass prior to AVIAS. He prefers to teach by doing and showing than telling—after the first month, lectures will be scarce, unless you'd consider him shouting directions or corrections while his students work or train to be a lecture.
Two Weyrlings have been caught fighting in the Barracks. One of them has a bloody nose (possibly broken) and the other a black eye and missing tooth. Both of their weyrlings are terribly upset. How do you handle this? Please answer ICly. Unbelievable. Un. Believable. V'mel was up to here with this nonsense, and he could feel the sharp jab of an early afternoon headache coming on. He'd had to tear the two young men apart, tangled up as they were in their barracks room, and even now he had to keep one hand firmly on a shoulder of each boy to keep them from clashing back together. Behind each boy was coiled a creeling, terrified dragonet, eyes twirling yellow, orange, red, gray...One green, small and all but hiding beneath her own tailfork, the other a bulky, creamy bronze who looked as ready to charge as his young rider.
"It was him, I-I thold you! He—!" The green weyrling squealed, missing tooth giving him an unfortunate, unattractive lisp before V'mel cut him off with a sharp look and something akin to a growling snort.
"I don't give Faranth's own egg who started it! Y'both know the rules, and the risks!" His lip curled in disgust, "Crackbrained little...What'f one of your dragons had gone between out of fear? You think of that?" He shook each boy by where he gripped them, not enough to hurt (never enough to hurt) but clearly very upset with them both. "You don't think about it, do you? Nooo, too busy fighting over some girl or something one of you said." He rounded on the little bronze dragonet's boy, huffing and giving him a shove towards the door. "You ought to know better, K'arl. You, on a bronze? Blues and greens both, how can you expect them to respect you, look up to you if this is how you respond, sinking down to that level?" He tugged the green's boy along as well, and Aviroth gently extended the thought to let him know that one of the healers had indeed been procured and would meet them just outside the barracks. "And you, J'mes, you know there are channels to go through if you've an issue with another weyrling." He shook his head, pulling the boy ahead to herd them both in front of him now that shame had somewhat begun to cool their ire.
"The both of you though should be better than this. You can't live together? How do you expect to be able to fly together?" He glanced behind to make sure both dragons were following. They were, and four little yellow-gray eyes twirled back at him, their ire forgotten out of concern for their riders. No more anger, which was good, but he hoped that the knowledge that they'd both caused such distress to their partners would stymie further fights between the boys. "High Reaches owns you both, and as dragonriders of the weyr, we expect better of you," He scolded both boys. "Thread has begun to fall again, and people are dying. Dying. And you want to let some trivial thing be more important than that?" He heard something like a whimper from one of the boys—who didn't matter—and forged ahead. "I'll be speaking to each of you about this, once you're fixed up and you've seen to your weyrlings." It'd be a shame to lose either from this, especially the bronze. "And we'll get to the bottom of this little problem, since is important enough to risk your own partners over."
And with that he deposited them unceremoniously in the waiting arms of the healer before settling back, arms folded, against a nearby wall. Updated plans and schedules were sent out by way of Aviroth to his assistants...one of them could no doubt stay and interrogate the two boys, but perhaps especially because one of the boys had a green, and the other a bronze...well. Certain things were just better handled himself.
It is time for your senior weyrlings to fly their first Threadfall. What role do you give them? Will you keep them together or send them off in smaller groups? What are your directions and orders? Do you encourage them? Do you keep a stiff upper lip? This Threadfall is already reported to be nasty with heavy wind conditions and thick clumps. What do you say to your group? Will you by flying with them or will you assign one of your assistants to guide them? This was it. Thread was coming. Today. V'mel had been up candlemarks already, double and triple checking his plans and making a few last minute changes. There weren't many to make, as his plans had been laid for months now, but weather and forecasts would always cause a few minor fluctuations. Supplies were ready, and his assistants had been up and briefed. Now there was just to wait...until at last the call went out to prepare.
His weyrlings were arrayed like troops in the wedge of the bowl that had been allotted to them. The most varied, colorful bunch, and the smallest, they were regardless going to make him proud, he knew. Today they would rise together, they would fly together, and hopefully all survive together. If not, it would not be the first time, or a dishonorable death. The plan was simple, and one that had been used from time immemorial, back to Faranth's own battle with the Great Enemy. Two divisions, one led by himself, and the other his main assistant. The first division of weyrlings, the bronzes, browns, and a selection of the blues and greens would fly above the queen's wing. The low altitude would be easier to navigate, and with luck only a bit of thread would make it that far down, and should they need to land it would not be so difficult to do so. The second batch, the remainder of the greens and blues would be flying bags of firestone up to the lowest fighting wing. It would give the smaller dragons time to rest as the bags were reloaded and prepared. Those greens and blues on firestone duty would take the place of their chromatic counterparts during the next fall. They would get to experience both parts of what their duties would be, and it would grow them accustomed to the habit of rotating during the fall, finding and working into their place within the larger wing on the fly.
His assistants would be arrayed throughout both divisions of the weyrling wing, and he himself would act as the wingleader. None of them would go unduly out of their way to do the weyrlings' jobs for them, and were there more to keep order should any of them panic. They were to lead by example, and would not be allowed to slack off just because they weren't part of a real fighting wing.
"You all know what's expected of you," He called out to his assembled weyrlings. "This is what we've been training for, and what you're meant to do. This is how you die, weyrlings, though if you do your jobs right and stay calm, it won't be today." To their credit, the weyrlings didn't seem alarmed by his 'threat'. Probably they were just used to it by then. "The wind's rough, and we have reports of clumps of thread. You know by now what that means." He saw a few scattered nods, but no one dared interrupt. "Things could get messy if a clump gets through, so don't be some crack-headed hatchling, and remember that you can jump between. Keep clear visuals in mind, and try to remember that you want to come back a hundred yards below the wing's flying altitude. Don't need any sudden collisions on top of thread."
From the lip of the bowl the watchdragon trumpeted. High above a glimmer of silver appeared, faintly in the sky. The sound of hundreds of wings unfurling drowned out anything else V'mel might have aimed to say, and he swung up atop Aviroth to join them. Flying so low, the weyrling wing would be one of the last to take off, but the view from the ground—green and brown and bronze and blue twirling up up up to meet the threat in a blossom of fire and death—was awe-inspiring. When at last their moment came to rise, to fight, he could hear the fervor in their cries as they cupped the air with still-small wings, off at last to join the fight.
Name: Aviroth Age: 40 turns Color: Brown Size: 82' Sexuality: Heterosexual, Demiromantic Hatching day: 3537.12.19 AL Voice Sample: (•) - Il'gynoth the Heart of Corruption, World of Warcraft Significant Other: None—available.
Physical Description: Aviroth seems...soft. For a brown, that is. He's rather strapping, really, but his coloring is soft, his markings, soft. Even the gentle lull of his almost permanently deep blue eyes seems soft. His build is also somewhat slender, his chest a shade less deep than it could be, his muscles more lean and less bulk.
Personality: Aviroth is the softer of the pair, though he is by no means a gentle soul. He is much quieter than his rider, mostly content to watch and listen, which makes him an extra valuable tool. He seems more approachable, and often weyrlings will come to him in lieu of V'mel, especially for advice or very rarely comfort. Of course, once he's done assisting them, he will immediately reach out to his rider to fill him in. He is the velvet glove covering the iron fist of leadership the pair strive to be, and he plays the part very, very well. He does find baby dragons to be somewhat adorable, and has the silent goal of siring a clutch himself one day, though he'd never dare boast about it or speak of it to anyone but his own rider. Still, with the constant influence of V'mel's feelings, he has no trouble keeping no attachment to the weyrlings. It's not especially difficult, either, as he forgets those they lose within days, as would any dragon, and his rider never lingers over them.
His attitude towards blues and greens is less blatantly smug than some browns and bronzes: he looks at them sort of like a parent would, or an uncle of sorts. Always finding some sort of trouble or other, they are about as sensible, he's found, as hatchlings. A bit bigger, of course, but still. He treats them much the same, happy enough to listen and give advice, but he'll inform on any curious or more...free-thinking chromatics as easily as he would a weyrling.
Overall he is much less militant, less aggressive than V'mel, but no less detached and loyal. His work and efforts and thoughts are for the good of the weyr, and to stop the Great Enemy that his kind was made to fight. How could anyone think of a life where dragons didn't fight thread, when it was literally the reason they were first shelled? It's in his blood and bones, and the brown would do anything to help that cause, even if that meant he had to sit out of the fight to help train the weyrlings.
Pros: Observant, patient, dedicated, mild. Cons: Devious, detached, internally disdainful towards other chromatics.
Threadfall Stats: HP: 40 Status Effect: XP: Target Accuracy: 12 Flame Length: 12 General Stamina: 9 General Agility: 6 Between Accuracy: 9 Pain Resilience: 8 Instinct: 10 Luck: 7
(•) – [PRP] Golden Flight, Golden Morning [V'mel/Alusia] (•) – A Divine Morning: The Tarot Clutch Hatching is Open! (•) – [ORP] A Spread for the Deck: The Tarot Clutch Feast (•) – [Backdated RP] The Joys of Being a Weyrling [V'mel & Z'rik] (•) – [Semi-ORP] Welcome to Boot Camp [Weyrling Lesson 1] (•) – [WEYRLINGS] Into the Wild Blue Yonder [PAIR-FLIGHT LESSON] (•) – [SR. WEYRLINGS] A Bloody Deck of Cards [ROUND 4] (•) – [PRP] fathers and sons [ f'ell + v'mel&dragons (•) – [IC]Threadfall: High Reaches - OVER!
Family Varon – Father, slave miner at Nabol Hold, deceased (black lung). Mellana – Mother, slave miner at Nabol Hold, deceased (cave-in). Veromel – Twin brother, slave miner at Nabol Hold. deceased (???). Zyamel – Uta – His daughter by Weyrwoman Zheria, currently a brownrider at High Reaches Weyr. F'ell – houllow – Brownrider at Western Weyr, born of a flight to an HR creche lady. Veltanna – faesinger – One of his daughters, currently a greenrider at High Reaches. ??? – Mr Cheri – ??? **Probably has a number of other kids around the High Reaches area and surrounding holds.
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Posted: Fri Mar 24, 2017 4:14 pm
This character is currently inactive. Name: Saed Age: 30 turns Sex: Androgyne (uses they/their/theirs pronouns) Sexual Orientation: Asexual, Panromantic, Polyamorous Weyr: Other Rider Rank: N/A Previous Rank/Craft: They're part of a trading caravan? An apprentice, sort of, to Aishe. Nameday: 3547.09.02 AL Voice Sample: (•) - Lucatiel, Dark Souls 2 Significant Other: None—available.
Physical Description: Bronzed skin. Sun-bleached hair. Gem-like, crystal clear blue eyes. Fine, beautiful features. Long, slender limbs resolving in deft, almost unnaturally protracted digits. Saed is horribly difficult to pin down, gender-wise, though they are undeniably stunning. At 5'10", they could be either gender, and they seem to either enjoy the confusion this can create, or to be unaware or uncaring of it. Their style of dress is luxurious, and meant to tempt and draw the eye despite the amount of cover it provides—mystery, after all, is much more alluring than putting all on display at once. Fine wrapped silks and glittering chains and beads and bells of turquoise and gold fleck their form, draping and swaying as if caught in a constant light breeze.
Their movements are never harried, always precise and graceful, effortless to the extreme through turns and turns of practice and perfection. Every gesture and motion is intentional and meant to entrance, and that smile—...
Personality: More like a courtesan, or perhaps a geisha from ancient Earth than a trader, Saed is a being of beauty and charm. Fully embracing the mystery that comes with their appearance, they thrive on and fully enjoy the practice of using their unique skills to facilitate interest and trade. It seems a bit underhanded, perhaps, to use ones looks just to make a few marks...but what a waste not to! As a child they were confused and often shunned for their lack of easy definition, but they have come to embrace themselves fully once through their candidate and weyrling turns, and never once have they looked back.
Thriving on beauty and fine things, they've dedicated themselves to mastering the art of trading, what loyalties they owe aside from that to Cath, of course, are to Aishe, whom they view as a mingle of mentor and the parental figure that they never really had, and the rest of the caravan group. It would be safe to call them eager devotees of the mistress of trade, wholly focused on learning her ways and means and determined to please her and find her favor.
Though beyond rare, their anger is as terrifying in its terrible beauty as in its potency. They hold no attachments but those they've chosen in their dragon and their mistress, and once roused they can be just as vicious and cold as they can be warm and coaxing. The fires of hate can burn just as high and hot as those of love, after all.
Pros: Sensual, patient, dedicated, contemplative. Cons: Aloof, distant, hedonistic, the capacity to be very cruel.
History: Born to a somewhat traditional family in a traditional hold, Saed was an outcast from day one. Too lovely a child to be a boy, and too strong-willed to be a girl, their parents swiftly found disfavor with them over their more typical siblings. They are loathe to speak much of their childhood, but they found some minor relief upon being searched, and they leapt at the chance to flee the unwelcoming home they'd been raised in.
The candidates at least were a little better behaved. The weyr was a more progressive one, and girls and boys were ranked the same, though an ongoing issue of what sort of dragon they might impress caused more than a fair amount of gossip throughout their own age group as well as the older riders. No longer tortured, but still outcast and uncomfortable, finding a true understanding ally in the brown Cath was wholly the saving grace of the youngster, though it did little to convince the crowds one way or the other about just what they were or were meant to be. It was as a candidate that they began to learn to woo and ensnare both genders, to make them intrigued and not judgmental, and they perhaps left behind more than one broken heart when, at the end of training, they fled the weyr without a glance back.
For several turns they roamed Pern, learning about themselves and trying to find where seemed right. A chance meeting with Aishe's caravan seemed to finally connect the dots for the pair, and dragon and rider alike begged her to take them in and train them, to let them learn and work for her.
Other: I am not actually sure if they're male, female, both, or neither? They are more of a concept than a being, some days, even to themselves. XD
This character is currently inactive.exclaim
Name: Cath Age: 12 turns Color: Brown Size: 81' Sexuality: Pansexual, Polyamorous Hatching day: 3564.11.08 AL Voice Sample: (•) - Chi-ji, World of Warcraft Significant Other: None—available.
Physical Description: Cath is a nearly solid, almost plain looking brown at first glance, though he's got all the right proportions and shapes to make him rather pleasing to look at. Closer inspection reveals subtle markings, paler streaks and almost red mottling across his rich warm hide. Often placid and charming, his eyes are usually deep, rich green.
Personality: If a flower child was reborn as a dragon, Cath would be that dragon. He loves everyone, accepts everyone, and lives on the hope for peace and plenty for all. The only thing he can't abide is people antagonizing his rider. No one is a special as his rider! On any other topic though, he tends to fold like paper as long as letting the other have their way makes them happy. Thankfully giving ground never seems to bother the brown, though Saed has told him more than once to actually try to get what he wants too.
Shelled 3564.11.08 Able to chase 3565.08.08 Record: 0/1 recorded wins -3573.07—chased green Kath (MaraRune)
Playlist
Saed X
Saed's Merchant Stall X
Cath X
Instrumentals X
RP Logs:
(•) – [GREENFLIGHT] Stars Be Your Guide (•) – [PRP] A voice in the gloom [Saed & Azrael] (•) – [PRP] At Their Lady's Command [Saed/Aishe]
Family Hellna – NPC mother, a jeweler at Nerat Hold. Estranged. Grallon – NPC father, a herder at Nerat Hold. Estranged. Hellon – Rua the Raven – Brother, estranged. A candidate at High Reaches.
🛡🛡
ShinosBee
Nerd
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ShinosBee
Nerd
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Posted: Thu May 04, 2017 10:10 am
This character is currently inactive. Name: A'tte (originally Angotte) Age: 36 Sex: Male Sexual Orientation: Bisexual Weyr: Other Rider Rank: N/A Previous Rank/Craft: Glasscrafter (apprentice) Nameday: 3541.06.25 AL Voice Sample: (•) - Medivh, Heroes of the Storm Significant Other: Lila (fellow addict/unhealthy co-enabler) (Wish)
Physical Description: A'tte was once probably a fairly good looking young man. However that was and whenever, it is not the situation now. On the whole it is considered a rare good day if the man is washed at all. He is not completely filthy otherwise, but...he has more important things to worry about, so smudges of dirt, limp oily hair...he effectively doesn't take the best care of himself. His clothing is threadbare, and he goes about unadorned—no accessories, nothing but the basics. At least he's paid enough mind to patch them...mostly. Every now and then Morgath forces him to go get new clothing, so he's never completely horridly off, but he will not be winning any beauty contests.
His face is aged well beyond his years, and his dun-brown hair has grown long and unkempt. He's of a wiry build, muscled by necessity, though his perpetual drug use and generally unhealthy life style have made him somewhat frail and unnaturally thin.
Personality: A'tte is terribly clever. Smarter than average, even, but for all the wrong reasons. He was a fairly ambitious go-getter even a turn ago, though not without his vices and foibles. The horror and pain of thread and an excess of fellis have turned him into a lesser version of himself that his friends (if he has any) and dragon are unsure he'll ever come back from.
Today, 95% of A'tte's waking hours are devoted to obtaining or imbibing fellis. The world's terrible and he doesn't want to be part of it any more, but he could never do that to Morgath, who is really the only good thing in the world...though apparently not important enough to try to get himself straight (yet at least—addiction is a powerful thing). He hates himself immensely, but most of that feeling is buried through the layers of a*****e and how much more he hates the rest of the world. He has no trouble ruining other peoples' lives to get his, and has lost all sense of shame and self-worth along the way, so whatever line in the sand once was there has been long long washed away.
Pros: Clever, adaptable, determined. Cons: Selfish, immature, greedy, careless, just an all around a*****e.
History: Once upon a time, Angotte was a weyrbrat, apprenticed to a glass smith, driven to make beautiful stained glass windows. He wanted to bring more art to the otherwise stony and dull weyrs, and he had a flair for artistically mixing colors in the glass he'd begun to work. As a weyr child he of course stood for a clutch or two, and was delighted to be paired with his grumbly, wild blue. The blue was bad-tempered, but only because he wanted to do great things, and hey, A'tte did too! Life was going to be so awesome...
Except, of course, it wasn't. An early training exercise caused an injury that cost him some of the fine control of his hands, making glasswork much more difficult. Despondent, he struggled on for several turns before giving up. He'd been wandering through life trying to find his new place and taking odd jobs here and there (as he'd left his home weyr to go where no one remembered who he'd been before the accident) to get by when thread returned. Wholly unprepared, he and Morgath both took heavy scarring. They plunged between and retained their abilities to fly and walk, but at least for A'tte the pain was immense. He turned to fellis to help ease the pain, and found that while thus drugged even his crushed dreams didn't bother him.
He's spent the last turn on the move, dropping in on one hold or other and lurking about to make marks. He usually stays put until the supply runs dry (so once the local healers have realized he's getting it from all of them in rotation, etc.) before leaving for greener pastures.
Other: Have you seen Shameless? He's like a younger Frank, with no kids (that he knows of) and a dragon. Also I'm not sure how his rider being more or less absent would influence the dragon's own mentality? It's something for me to work on.
This character is currently inactive. Name: Morgath Age: 22 turns Color: Blue Size: 48' Sexuality: Asexual Hatching day: 3556.03.19 AL Voice Sample: (•) - Lucien Lachance, Skyrim Significant Other: None—available.
Physical Description: Almost at the bottom of size range for a blue, Morgath would come off un-intimidating...if he wasn't constantly snarling and furious. He definitely has small-dog syndrome, and even a little blue is reeeeally big to a person on the ground. His limbs are pale almost periwinkle blue, his core and joints all much darker and more saturated. His head is a bit more block- than wedge-shaped, and really he's not a terribly graceful or attractive dragon.
Personality: Morgath never was going to be a sweetheart. He didn't maul anyone his hatching day, but more than one boy or girl had nightmares about that scowling red-eyed face for a while after. Pissy, territorial, and impatient, he doesn't have a lot of tolerance for much of anything. A'tte, of course, is the one exception. Or was. His rider's willful and ongoing retreat from the world has left the once-loyal dragon highly displeased. Of course, he still loves his rider, it's just that some part of the blue thinks his rider died months ago. He can't just between because there's enough similarity in what's left that Morgath doesn't feel the crushing agony of a true death...and if he left, what would happen if one day A'tte came back? Or would his rider even notice, always trapped in that twilight world of narcotics as he is?
Between the two the blue is definitely the capable one. He'll carry A'tte where he wants to go when they move to new homes, but while his rider is getting as high as a kite, Morgath is the one making sure he doesn't starve, or pass out in a field the day of thread. Any time someone has a problem with A'tte they soon find themselves having a problem with Morgath. He isn't afraid to fight, and he fights dirty and mean too.
Family Angalie – NPC mother, kitchen staff at Western Weyr. G'ard – NPC father, a wingrider at Western Weyr, deceased (First Fall). **Probably has at least one younger sibling still at Western Weyr, as a candidate or rider. **Probably has a number of unknown kids literally anywhere on Pern, but no older than ~15 turns.
