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 Posted: Mon Nov 20, 2017 4:53 pm
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 Name: Dezerac
Age: 27 (3548.12.11)
Sex: Male
Sexual Orientation: Bisexual
Craft: Mercenary
Rank: Wingrider
Location: High Reaches Weyr
Physical Description:
Long, dark brown hair contrasts with pale skin, laid over a well- but leanly-muscled frame. Dezerac is tall and elegant at 6'4", with a cool air and sometimes predatory bearing, and has hard gray eyes. Torso is now rather scarred up, since a dragon hatchling tried to murder him.
Personality:
Dezerac is a man who knows what he wants, and has no reservations whatsoever about doing whatever needs to be done to achieve the goal or goals he has in mind. That being said, he also knows that the quickest, easiest, or most obvious path isn't always the wisest or most effective, and is adept at knowing which path suits not only his immediate needs, but will place him in a better position in the long run. He has a mind for strategy, thinking over costs and benefits, outcomes and repercussions, what the next step is and what needs to be done ten steps from now, and a hundred steps after that...and where he might need to adjust along the way, if things don't go exactly according to plan. He considers those possibilities, too, and will always do his best to turn a situation around or at least in his favor, but he knows that there is such a thing as a total loss. He simply prefers not to be the one losing. Outwardly, he'll deal with such matters gracefully, and though he might seethe inwardly, he'll move on in his strategies to whatever the next step has to be.
It's rare to catch him looking anything but calm; although he has an impressive and terrifying temper, even his worst rages are cold ones, and he almost never truly loses his head in the midst of them. He knows exactly what he's doing, and is that much more frightening for it. Even anger and violence are calculated, and whether he lashes out or takes his time, he is absolutely vicious. He is a man to be crossed at great peril, in no small part because he does, in truth, both embrace and enjoy violence. He is not, however, ever violent or cruel just for the sake of it, as without emotion or deeper motivation to provide a reason for the act, it loses much of the appeal.
There is more to strategy than confrontation and dramatic action, and Dezerac is just as good at more social forms of strategy as he is martial ones. He can be exceedingly charming, magnetic in the dangerous way that those inclined to power can be, though it's not a perfect mask and not meant to be: he's always just a bit cold, with a smile that doesn't often reach his eyes. He doesn't find it necessary to make a great show of it or prove himself, but lets it be unspoken to those astute enough to pick up on it that he is a force to be reckoned with.
Being as he is, Dezerac doesn't have friends so much as allies, people he benefits from being associated with or can trade favors with. He will always abide by the letter of any agreement he's made with someone, and depending on the value of the arrangement may or may not build in, search for, or exploit loopholes. If he does, it will be carefully considered, as with everything else he does or doesn't do. He hasn't had actual friends for as long as he can remember, as they're a liability from which he tries to distance himself, but does occasionally have people he becomes fond of for reasons he can't always put his finger on (not that he would say, if he could). He finds such relationships vexing, a frustrating affront to his otherwise self-focused and distant nature, and can vacillate from affectionate and attentive to irritable and possessive. Once something or someone is his, he has a very difficult time letting go unless it's his choice; whoever and whatever he views as his, he will hold to and protect with his last breath.
Positive Trait List head for strategy, charming, protective
Negative Trait List ruthless, distant, possessive
History:
Dezerac was born in Keroon Hold to Acrisia, the easily-charmed daughter of a Beastcrafter, sired by a mercenary captain to whom she'd taken a fancy, and who was gone long before anyone knew there'd be a child...not that he'd have stuck around anyway. Acrisia's parents were less than pleased, to say the least, and when Dezerin passed through town again a few turns later, they all but shoved the toddler off on him. Dezerin was surprised but not entirely displeased by this development, although having a young child in amongst a mercenary company had the potential to be an inconvenience, but it wasn't a first; Dezerin had another son several turns older than Dezerac, and had done all this before. If anything, it was easier this time, as Dezerac was essentially given as charge to his older half-brother, Mezrin; a responsibility that, by most standards, he was rather young for, but childhood was not a luxury they were afforded growing up in a company of mercenaries.
It was Mezrin that Dezerin was always hardest on, though Dezerac wasn't spared by any means if he chanced to displease their father. He had the fortune of being younger and thus able to observe and learn from Mezrin's missteps, but made his fair share along the way. Dezerin was rough with the boys out of what he saw as necessity, preparing them for a harsh world and the dangerous life of mercenaries, not out of intent to mistreat them and not for any sort of amusement, but the fact remains that he was not a loving or gentle man, and certainly not a good father. But he did get what he wanted: a pair of sons desperate to please him, whether out of fear or for want of attention, and who were sharding good mercenaries. In addition to being a proficient fighter, Dezerac is an exceptional hand with runners and mounted combat.
When Dezerac was 12, another half-brother came into the fold, and by this point Dezerin wasn't particularly interested; two sons were useful, in case something happened to one, but did he really need a third? Ilzerin was largely ignored and left to his brothers to mind, and if he disappointed in some way, that was on them, so while they weren't so physically rough with him as their father was with them, they did resent him and did nothing to hide it. As a result, he resented them in turn, furthering their view of him as an inconvenience and an ungrateful little snot.
At 21, Dezerac was Searched to High Reaches, a development his father approved of. A mercenary with a dragon was both much more useful and much more valuable, after all! But, Hatching after Hatching, Dezerac failed to Impress, gradually becoming more and more of a disappointment...and then Thread returned, and his brother Mezrin was among its early victims. Now Dezerac is the oldest, but daren't return to the company, not as a failure who's wasted all this time without a dragon to show for it. Perilously close to aging out, he's coming to accept that he never will return: he can't go back without a dragon, and with the return of Thread, he can't go back with a dragon. Regardless, the only way out is through, and he'll keep right on Standing until the moment he's no longer able. Mezrin was very possibly the only person he's ever really loved, and without a dragon, Dezerac was unable to protect him; maybe with one, he can avenge him. |
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Posted: Mon Nov 20, 2017 4:54 pm
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Bronze VedmathWritten by Fated Fable
Colored by Mx Cherie
Origin of Name: Vedmath is taken from the Slavic Vědmák, the male form of the word for witch. Unlike the warlock, a Vědmák is a heroic figure tasked with protecting mankind. It is from the Vědmák that the Witcher originates. This male magic user stops evil witches in their tracks, and has the power to heal animals, shapeshift, and resist the charms of magical beings. However, like the warlock, they are sometimes linked with the Devil, and in that case they embody all the negative traits that a warlock is said to possess.
Inspiration: Warlock, from the old English wǣrloga, meaning truce-breaker. The word wǣr means pact or oath, whereas loga means liar. However, although the name implies oathbreaker, the warlock is thought to be simply a wizard who draws his power from evil sources. One possible etymology places the origin as the Old Norse varðlokkur, meaning caller of spirits, but this is not a widely accepted theory due to the scarcity of its usage in primary sources. Understandably, male magic users eschew the use of the word warlock, as the name implies that its adherents are in league with the Devil. Many male witches do not believe in the Devil, and those who do may have no desire to hold with his creed.
In the tabletop role-playing game Dungeons and Dragons, the warlock as a class take their power from pacts made with various planar beings. This is a bit of an ironic twist, considering that the word itself essentially means traitor, and establishing a pact with an entity would imply the opposite in a sense. This derivation is likely from the old notion of the origin of a warlock's power, rather than the etymology itself. Of the known pacts a warlock may establish, only the infernal, dark, and gloom pacts seem to be in keeping with archaic definitions. Nevertheless, whether in role-playing games or without, it is clear that the notion of the warlock is married to that of great power.
Personality: This Bronze came into the world with a vengeance, already cognizant of his purpose from day one. That purpose is to take down those who seek to control and subjugate those who look to them for guidance. In other words, he has a vendetta against Gold dragons who use their powers for ill means, although that is not the full breadth and scope of his focus. Here's looking at you, Illiandinth and Strigonth! In particular, he finds most objectionable the abuse of power when another has given their faith and trust.
While he is relentless in his pursuit of these types of evildoers, he is capable of thinking about the here and now. It's just that he has a long game of ridding the world of their filth. He considers it to be his personal responsibility to protect and defend the helpless. There is a certain arrogance in his assumption that those who don't stand up for themselves against the powerful are necessarily helpless, and further that they need his aid. However, he could never be accused of being humble. He is not ashamed of being what and who he is, how could he be? Yet he is not one to take advantage of his position.
Unlike a number of his Bronze brethren, the Warlock is not blind to his own flaws. Nor, indeed, is he so arrogant as to assume himself better than his chromatic siblings. That being said, he is aware of his own worth. His place is absolutely at the fore, or right in the midst of the fray. He knows exactly who within his own clutch have the best interest at heart, and who do not. And as far as he is concerned, those who do not, well, they need to be dealt with. Vedmath is the dragon for the job, because he can walk, talk, eat, and breathe like them, if he so chooses. He runs the risk of becoming too much like the scheming manipulators and darker parties within their ranks.
Vedmath possesses a combination of intuition and wisdom that sometimes gives him the appearance of phenomenal powers. His keen insight allows him to make observations that, at first blush, seem borderline prophetic. However, it is quite clear that he is merely acting on logic and instinct. Long practice at this game has prepared him for success. That does not mean, however, that Vedmath is infallible. He is just as capable of being fooled as the next dragon, and when he does fail to recognize something that by all rights should be obvious, it hits him all the harder. He enjoys being one step ahead of the game, and it pains him to be wrong. However, he is capable of admitting the fault.
At his core, Vedmath is affectionate and warm, utterly devoted to those he seeks to defend. Where his rider is concerned, he might as well be a puppy, for he will follow that person to the ends of the earth. His ambitions stem from a desperate desire to see the good in the world rewarded, and to preserve those who cannot defend themselves against the evil. He is almost unfailingly loyal, and would love nothing more than to be surrounded by a circle of friends who might tend to him just as he will to them. Behind that tough exterior lies a tender heart that yearns to be loved in return.
Positive Traits: Intuitive, Astute, Affectionate
Negative Traits: Vigilante, Lawless, Dependent
Adult Size: 92'
Physical Attributes: An especially large Bronze, Vedmath has soulful eyes, and broad wings. He is a handsome beast, and while it cannot be said that he's unaware of it, he takes greater pride in his considerable strength and the ability to use it to protect those he loves.
Additional Notes: Absolutely despises Illiandinth and everything his fellow Bronze stands for. Not overly fond of Strigonth. He will enjoy flying for its own sake, and may fall a little in love with every lady he chases. Or, in fact, a gentleman or two that he competes against. He does not trust Suwayeth, who hates him in spite of the fact that all he wants to do is to protect. He is friendly with Akeroth, Hessianth, and Helsinth, and quite fond of all within his clutch who need his strong arm.
Theme Song: Roundtable Rival by Lindsey Stirling
Why Me? As far as matches go, this one was written in blood. Everything about Dezerac calls to Vedmath, from his mercenary background, to his knowledge and head for tactics, to his willingness to put himself on the line in a time of need. They are honorable warriors together, now and forever. This man is his man, and he loves him with all of his heart. He adores his charm, which he shares in equal measure. Adores his intellect, his spirit. His everything. There is not a list long enough to encompass all about Dezerac that makes him a perfect fit for Vedmath, but together they can rise. Dezerac may be unable to make true friends, but Vedmath is eternally capable of finding them new companions, however friendly they may be. Additionally, the ex-mercenary has much to offer the dragon when it comes to standing on his own two feet.
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Posted: Mon Nov 20, 2017 4:54 pm
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Impression
Quote:
From the place where Vimiath had slept, there was a great rumble, and a shudder as the sand moved. Finally, a spotted cobalt egg emerged from the sand. Energy seemed to build for a long moment, before yet another Bronze appeared from amidst the shards of his egg. His hide glistened darkly, catching the light in a few places. It was time.
Quote: The cobalt Bronze shook out his wings, seeming to test them. Readying himself for something. He gaped his jaws in the semblance of a cocky grin. Oh, yes? Was that how it was going to be? He could feel the dark ones moving against one another. Let them take one another on, let them tire out, and then Impress to their bondmates. He was here to see to what had been left behind.
Quote:
In a far more understated manner than many of its siblings, the Scarlet egg hatched... revealing yet another Green. Rather than joining in the fray, she hung back, watching. Waiting. Observing, and deciding... on something.
The Cobalt Bronze began to move again, keeping his sister within his sights. What was she up to? Oh no, the Bronze did not care for the way she was eyeing the Candidates. As if they were nothing more than a game to be played, or new victims. No.
Not on his watch. Planting himself firmly between the Green and the young men and women who yet stood, he gave her a baleful glare. Not today.
Quote:
Locked in a battle of wills, the Cobalt Bronze and the Scarlet Green stared at each other, each pushing and pulling in turn. There was a weight of censure in the Bronze's gaze, and he leaned forward slightly, pressing all the harder.
With a snort of disdain, the Green shook her head, eyes swiftly shifting to an angry red. Just try it, she seemed to say, beginning to walk right toward a group of boys.
The Cobalt Bronze let out a bugle of challenge, but the Green was faster, threading rapidly through the crowd in a ball of sharp, fierce rage! LET SOMEONE JUST TRY! LET THEM TRY... to muzzle her again! She would not yield!
And she was pulling no punches.
Quote:
With shrills of victory, the Scarlet Green absolutely shredded her way through the crowd, marking the male Candidates as her particular targets. HOW DARE HE TRY TO CONTROL HER? No! She would not be tamed, would not be harnessed, not by any man!
In a blaze of glorious fury and purpose, she rolled right into Dezerac, latching onto him with teeth and claws... and shaking him like a wherry that she meant to kill.
And oh, she meant to. She was going to end him.
NO! You will not! Stop. Cease this at once! the Bronze dragonet cried, frantically attempting to come to the Candidate's aid. He shoved his wing between the Scarlet Green and her victim, trying to stop her, trying to shield the other. And screamed in pain as she latched onto him as well, letting all of her rage fuel her attacks.
Quote: He did not expect death to be green. Maybe it was a result of being trained at High Reaches, or maybe he'd just never expected a dragon of any color to get ahold of him. Not like that. He'd always done exactly as they were supposed to do, and that combined with what was probably no small amount of luck, he'd never received much more than bumps and bruises here and there. Well, the green was here to make up for that and then some. The Candidate training he'd always followed so well told him to go limp and protect what he ******** that.
Latched onto and shaken violently, ripped and bloodied but nothing broken - yet - there was nothing he could do that would have any effect, but that didn't stop him from trying. He couldn't not fight, not after a life of doing little else. He kicked, hit, grabbed for purchase, but there was almost nothing on a dragonet that he could do damage to with his bare hands, though it wouldn't be for lack of trying.
He scrabbled at her face. If he could get an eye, maybe-
And then the bronze was there, and Dezerac very nearly (maybe did) kicked at him, too.
Quote:
This was exactly what she would expect from that one! The Scarlet Green let out a shriek of fury and hatred, ripping into Dezerac with every intent to kill. She shook him hard, as he kicked out, and the kick missed her...
and struck Cobalt Bronze. He gave a creel of dismay and betrayal, agony lancing through him as the Scarlet Green left the Candidate where he lay, slicing the Bronze deep.
She left Dezerac for dead, seeking out a new victim, the Cobalt Bronze limping after her, ichor spilling freely onto the sands. THERE!
Quote: Another hard shake, more ripping to go with it, and as quickly as it had started, it was finished. Hazily, with vision limited by pain and blood and the effects of being shaken so violently, he started to assess himself. There was blood. Obviously, look past that. His intestines were...in. His shoulder...no, not so much. Beyond ******** if he knew, he'd find out when he started moving. Which he did.
No one was going to be carrying him off the Sands, thank you very much. He coughed and set about righting himself, pushing through the pain. He could do this. Pain was just pain, and he knew it well. Pain would never be what killed him, only a reminder that he was still alive. Pain and a creel from the bronze who'd tried to help him, and he'd...maybe probably hit, at some point. But he was already off limping after the green, and probably wouldn't hear Dezerac's mumble of regret, and gratitude that the hatchling had tried and succeeded in intercepting some of the green's wrath. It wasn't exactly coherent, anyway.
But it was the sort of thing Mezrin had done for him more times than he could count, and he really was grateful. And sorry. And he...
No, thinking about his brother would get him nowhere. Move, Dezerac. Pick yourself up and get out of here.
Quote: Up, more or less. His legs worked, that was a good sign. His right arm hung limp at his side, and he was bleeding - shards he was bleeding, from here and there and everywhere - but he got halfway to the Healers under his own stumbling power, at which point someone ventured out to help him, and that was fine. At least he'd dragged himself that far, didn't need to be outright carried.
Although now that he did have support, and was no longer under direct threat, Dezerac started to sag, and drift away from awareness as he became only one of a number who needed tending to.
Quote:
Nooooooooo! He was escaping! The Scarlet Green chased after the Candidate that she'd presumed for dead, rage fueling her as Dezerac made his way off the sands. She was going to rip, and tear, and she didn't care who got in her--
The Cobalt Bronze thundered into his sister with all of his power, interposing himself between the Green and her intended prey.
Never. Never again. You will not touch him! he cried, bugling his defiance. He was larger than her, and though her teeth and claws hurt, he would not budge. Not from this. Never from this.
How dare he! HOW DARE HE DENY HER! He's mine, he's mine, he's MINE!
No, the Bronze disagreed, turning his head to gaze upon Dezerac. His eyes whirled rainbow, although shot through with heavy flicks of grey. He is Mine
NOO! NO! NO! She wouldn't let him, she wouldn't let him, not after this! Not after all of this! The Green latched onto the Bronze's throat, aiming to kill.
Dezerac, your Vedmath needs you. Please... please don't... leave me...
to die.
Quote: Awareness had been fading away, bleeding away, but he couldn't afford to let it to, supported by some helpful someone or no... a helpful someone who, very wisely, drew the line at being mauled, and fled (albeit with what might have been an apology) when the green came screeching back after her original target.
Well, s**t. He'd spent his whole life surviving, but for a second, his chances of continuing that trend were looking very grim indeed. But then the bronze was back, the very same one he'd kicked in the face, defying her and saving him.
Choosing him.
Adrenaline and love both flared the fight back into him, shredded flesh and useless arm be shaffed, right along with Candidate training. Bad enough that that green had tried to kill him, she was not going to kill his dragon! Dezerac rushed to the wretched creature latched to the throat of his Vedmath, his Vedmath, and used his one good hand to grab her by the headknob and pull at her with all his might, kick at her, anything, anything to save his, or at the very least die with him.
"Get off him, you b***h!"
Quote: Dezerac was furious, in a way that he hadn't been in a very long time, not since before he'd been Searched. There was a part of him the could have done more, would have done more than kick at her if he'd been able. If he'd been able to use both hands properly, he'd have used them to try to choke the life out of her until she let his dragon go. Because he finally had him, his perfect match, someone to love and be loved by, someone to fight for and with, someone to be better for and worthy of. And no one, no one was going to take him away! He'd had no chance of saving his brother from Thread, but he would save Vedmath from his own sister if he had to, however he had to. But even in rage and pain, he wasn't blind, and the moment the murderous green released Vedmath's throat, the man released her in turn, not that he would have been able to keep hold of her if he'd tried.
Oh, he hated her in those moments, as he'd hated only one other before, but with the threat to his bonded gone, there was no cause to try to do more than what he already had. Particularly when he and His were bleeding green and red all over the Sands. Dezerac had already used most of his reserves toughing his way over to the Healers the first time, and then all that was left and more fighting for Vedmath's life. For his life.
I knew you would not leave me, said the bronze swaying at his side, doing his part to keep him up with waves of love and support, and something to lean on. Gently, because each was as torn as the other. What a pair they were, and a fitting if frightful beginning. At the words of his white sister, Vedmath swung his head to glare balefully at her, a withering reply springing to his mind, but...could it be his fault? No, no, he'd known she would be a danger, and he had only tried to stop her before she'd started. But was it possible that he had made it worse? He didn't- he didn't know, and everything hurt. It was hard to know anything when everything hurt so much, pain from him and pain from his Dezerac all bleeding together.
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Posted: Mon Nov 20, 2017 4:55 pm
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Posted: Mon Nov 20, 2017 4:55 pm
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Posted: Mon Nov 20, 2017 4:56 pm
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Posted: Tue Nov 21, 2017 6:21 pm
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