Name: Belia Age: 32 Nameday: 3544.8.28 Sex: Female Sexual Orientation: Everything Weyr: High Reaches Weyr Rider Rank: Wingrider (Harbingers) Previous Rank/Craft: Journeyman Cake & Dessert Design Voice:X ~ Mako Mankanshoku/Kill la Kill Song:Kickstart My Heart ~Mötley Crüe Physical Description: Fluffy from the top of her ponytail to the tips of her toes, this young woman is not a slim model for certain but she truly has a glow about her draws others towards her. It could be her softly rounded facial features added to the soft and slightly fluffier size of her body or even her 4'10" stature, but people often mistake Belia's age for younger than she truly is, a problem she doesn't mind. It could be one of the things that gives her nose and silvery/gray eyes crinkle a bit with her impish smiles and they can crinkle so much that when she gets to smiling and laughing hard her eyes will close until it eases and she loves to laugh. If she is happy everything about her seems to glow and have an extra lift, she'll hop about and run amok in ways that make her seem to be floating just as much as her brown hair.
When on the ground she's in a dress with an apron tied about her waist and most often covered in flour as she'll spend any free time she has baking and making things for family and friends. For gathers she really breaks it all out and wears something that shows off all her curves. Personality: Need to find a person that will give you the shirt off of her own back, the muffins she baked just ten minutes ago, or her own time in an endeavor that in no way benefits her, look no further than this short green rider. To give is in her nature, it's part of what made her love baking so much, because she could give things to people and see the joy on their faces, but if she allows it to get out of control with the giving it becomes overwhelming. That's not the worst thing ever, but added to her general impish nature she can be a handful to deal with, like a storm rolling through made of flour and baked goods and compliments that can steamroll anyone that she's attempting to help with her intentions. She doesn't mean for it to happen, but Belia is a handful to deal with as she'll simply give because the impulse came to her in that moment. In fact she does everything because it came to her in that moment, a thought wafting through on the breeze.
If that impulsive nature isn't curbed she'll give away everything that she owns, dedicate all of her time to making things for people that might... not want them. Not that they'll be ungrateful but she can be smothering once she knows that you need something and she isn't at all afraid to continue giving and making for them. She's an open book about this desire, an open book about everything, Belia has no secrets and that isn't because she can't keep someone else's but because they'll be written all over her face if someone asks. It makes it very easy to deal with her, for those that talk to her will instantly know where they stand and there are so few that she views negatively most will be amused by her friendliness. No one really gets to her, not colorists, not those that are negative, not even bullies, for there are ways to get back at those that treat her or any others she cares for unfairly.
And yes, every one of those ways involves the creative baking that she's always employed since her childhood. Leaving small 'gifts' of baskets full of oddly flavored muffins, buckets of flour that might fall on the intended, floury hand prints in places or everywhere. Nothing has ever been so malicious that anyone was hurt, but her impish streak won't let things go and her creative nature mixed with her playful side makes it easy to come up with new and devious methods of exacting 'revenge'. After which she'll offer up something sweet and a hug before running off to have fun or fulfill some other desire. Belia will never be considered wicked or overly mean, but sometimes she leaves others shaking their heads.
Firstborn daughter of two farmers living on the outer edges of Landing Hold down far on the southern continent, Belia was the sort of child that could never be contained no matter what the situation that arose and often spent all her days outside running around and wreaking havoc upon any child or adult that crossed her path. Not the malevolent sort of havoc of course, just the comical sort that would often lead to heads in hands or laughter depending upon those in her direct path. Her childhood was the gentle and very sweet sort that involved love and lots of it; younger siblings soon followed her where she would lead them off on adventures into the south fields or down to the creek that ran through the farm looking for anything that moved in the water. She taught her sisters and brothers how to fish, how to cook (once she had learned from her mother of course), how to ride runner beasts, and even how to spot a dragon and their rider in the sky flying overhead so far above.
Though she loved her siblings and helping around the farm, though she enjoyed playing and adventuring very much, the one thing that Belia loved more than anything on all Pern, was to bake. Her mother, Tiabella, showed her how to bake once she was old enough to lick the spoon by sitting a bowl in her lap and having her stir whatever was inside. She learned quickly that flour was not the best thing to give her exuberant small daughter, lest the entire kitchen be covered in a thin layer of white and nothing be left in the bowl. As she grew the pudgy little girl began to experiment with her own styles of baking, styles that sometimes lead to joyous eating and other times lead to the canines eating whatever they could stomach, but with each experiment in flavor and technique she became better and better. Every family gathering they had revolved around some desert or another that she’d crafted just for them and there were times when the Hold gathered together that she would break out something massive for them all, a tiered cake with flowers all over it was her favorite thing to make and the one thing that caught the interest of a woman that would come to be important to her later.
Though not too later in her life, as within a turn or so a message came to her parents, asking if their eldest daughter would like to come and study in a craft hall in Southern Hold. Belia was ecstatic; over the moons even, to be given a chance to design desserts in an actual craft hall was what she’d always wanted but never once dreamed of having a shot at. Though it cost some marks, her parents were able to find a dragon rider willing to fly her there and on that day the young girl experienced two wonderful moments in her life at the same time. Many turns passed while she studied in the Cooking Craft Hall, swinging back and forth with the things that she would learn and sucking it all in thanks to the honor of even being offered a chance at it. Once she settled on cake and dessert design she excelled and never once looked back at anything else. Oh certainly, she can cook with the best of them and bread is one of her favorite things to make, even if it isn’t sugary in the least, but desserts called to her and with every new thing she created and tried, she remembered to send back muffins and cakes to her family and to visit whenever she was given the opportunity. Though rare, it was always a treat to see her family and how they’d grown, for she was close to all her siblings and made a habit of doting on them all the best she could.
One sibling, the shyest of all her sisters even, stood out as her ‘favorite’ among the outgoing family and Belia often made it a habit to visit and profess her undying(sisterly) love for her baby sister Zamistia. If she sent back many muffins after she got closer to the girl it was to be expected, for her parents could only shake their head at her smothering her with love, wanting her to be just as brave as she could be. It was hard to do, being that she was so far away from her Hold, from her family, but at the age of 22 she walked the tables to Journeyman and the very first thing she did was run home, or rather ride home with a caravan that she spent the entire time spoiling with different crazy foods and desserts as way of payment. Though she was able to spend half a turn in Landing once more she was called upon by a dragon rider to come to High Reaches and create something for a feast following an Impression and followed them on a whim despite being given the option to say no. Of course that was never really an option.
While she made a cake that of course brought smiles it was a smile of her own that came about when she was approached by a bronze rider and his dragon just before she left to return home or go... anywhere. She wasn't sure where. When M'aze and Zeath approached her she quickly discovered that there was a place for her there in the Weyr, a place she had only ever been once. Now a Candidate, Belia adapted to learning a bit differently, but she loved every second of being around others and getting to use her free time to make food for the teenagers and young men and women that were learning and standing alongside her. It didn't take overly long for her vibrant and impish personality to pair up with a dragon, a stripy green that came running up to her not long after eggs started hatching and sat right before her with bright purple eyes. Confused, a bit overwhelmed herself which was odd for her as it was suddenly flipped on her, Cozellath began to laugh playfully and bowed her head lovingly to her chosen bonded, a voice that sounded of Spring breezes and sunshine whispered into her head. Never be overwhelmed in your Cozellath's presence my lovely Belia, for these hearts beat only for your open and creative one. I want to see what you make, I want to help others with you and make all of Pern smile.
It melted Belia's already rapidly beating heart and the short woman picked up her baby dragon and walked off the sands with her in tears, which was a motion that set the tone for how they would grow together and interact with others. Luckily for the small rider her dragon didn't grow very large at all and it certainly came in handy for how the little dragon would go and slip down hallways and through the Weyr mischievously, usually following after one particular bronze dragon and his rider. While she likely wasn't the bane of M'aze and Zeath's lives, Cozellath often found a way to follow them around and sleep on them or around them after her rider introduced the pair to her. To Belia's amusement she had to chase the little dragon down at times, only to find her with the pair who became fast friends and sometimes victims of baked pranks involving never ending muffins in riding bags and sometimes even crazier things.
Those faded out a bit when Thread returned, trying to get used to Pern tilting on it's head and things changing so dramatically took some doing, but if anyone could it was these two. Belia often tries to feed those wounded and still runs around leaving things for others and going out of her way to help where she can; Cozellath spends her free time being a comforting presence for wounded and sick in the Healers ward. They have a lot of kindness to give and though they now balance that out with fighting thread to protect Pern, the pair still finds a way.
Name: Cozellath Age: 10 Color: Green Size: 36' Voice:X ~ Kuriyama Mirai/Kyoukai no Kanata Song:Little Wind ~ Jim Burkhead Physical Description: A very small green, extremely dainty with a bit shorter neck and a very long tail, Cozellath holds most of her strength in her hind legs as her front legs are just a bit shorter like her neck. With the stripes of green on her wings it gives the illusion of them being longer than they are, the stripes at the base of her tail do the same. While she has some odd proportions none of them are so dramatic that it makes her awkward when flying though watching her kick off from the ground shows just how strong those rear legs are.
Because of her small size, her stamina is very low and makes it a bit hard for her to last the full length of half a fall as well as coloring just how short her flights are. Because of her playful nature she likes to take her suitors on twisting flights up into the air Personality: Warm Spring breeze is a very good description for how Cozellath interacts with the world, she breathes kindness and friendliness into everything that she does, but she will grasp at your hair and tangle it up playfully as she passes. It isn't in a malicious way, she just wants to show her affection in playful ways and to make others smile through creative ways. Both of her large hearts beat for her Weyr and she will do everything that she can to take care of them, whether that means she run off to the Healers ward when she's got free time to spend with upset dragons or sick riders or wounded anyone, whether it means she watches candidates and takes little ones for a fast ride with her rider, she's willing to do all of it to be of help and to show them that she cares.
Much like her rider, she has an impish side that cannot be restrained unless pushed very hard by a wingleader. She won't ever do playful things at inopportune times, never when flying and never when it could hurt another being. That would go against everything that she stands for! She does enjoy watching her rider stuff muffins in people's bags, loves helping her pass them off on M'aze at times and really likes to run around looking for the next target. For the most part she's grown out of it herself but she enjoys watching it and being of aid to her playful rider. As a young hatchling she was very prone to sticking around Zeath and even as an adult she will happily find him and sleep with him in the sunlight or listen to his jokes and offer feedback or just peals of bright laughter.
Both of her hearts belong to a certain dragon but while her rider might know and poke at her jokingly, Cozellath isn't talkinga bout who she's got her eye on.
ocelotocelotocelotocelot ▊▊Fire Lizards °
ocelotocelotocelotocelot ▊▊Art °
Sleepy gif by the awesome Skyflu!
ocelotocelotocelotocelot ▊▊Threadfall Stats °
Harbingers Belia of Green Cozellath HP: 18 Status Effect: N/A XP: Target Accuracy: 15 Flame Length: 6 General Stamina: 6 General Agility: 8 Between Accuracy: 6 Pain Resilience: 6 Instinct: 10 Luck: 8
Posted: Sun Jul 05, 2020 11:38 pm
Name: Ri’ven (Formerly Rilaven) Age: 30 Nameday: 3546.11.24 Sex: Male Sexual Orientation: Pansexual Weyr: High Reaches Weyr Rider Rank: Wingrider (Burning Aces) Previous Rank/Craft: Journeyman Healer Voice:X ~ Varian Wrynn/World of Warcraft Song:Chainsmoking ~ Jacob Banks Physical Description: A mountain of a man at 6’7” with hair like fire often pulled into a high tail full of loose and wavy curls, that same hair falls down to fringe around his face and soften the scars over his left eyebrow and on his cheek from a hatchling attack. Most people miss it when looking him in his tanned face for his bright green eyes and the large grin that seems semi-permanently plastered on it, no matter what the situation. While he has somewhat gentler features they do nothing to mask the fact that his body was made for work and muscle has formed from turns of drills and practices and filled him out until he was almost as impressive as his dragon. (As if Hoath would have it any other way) Personality: If someone were to call R'iven a 'momma's boy' to his face he would instantly respond that he absolutely is and always will be! Having been raised by two supportive mothers with their full spectrum of love and teachings, one mother an actual teacher and the other a rider, he was free to do whatever he wanted as long as he worked as hard as he could to achieve it on his own. It made him into a workaholic for certain but that's never been a bad thing to him even if others tend to tell him to chill out on it because they worry for him, he's never had the ability to slow down. Because he never slows down he also doesn't tend to pay attention to things that he should as he rushes about, which makes him more than a little oblivious to other's motives or needs unless they make sure to spell it out to him very clearly. Once done he's quite obliging, even overly so in his attempts to support others with whatever it might be that they need.
This has a tendency to be taken advantage of if he gets too involved in caring about others, generally he's just a bit too oblivious to see that he's being manipulated, some would even say overly so. But really he just wants to help! Sometimes it takes the force of his mother's bearing down upon him or Hoath repeatedly pointing it out for him to finally accept that others motives might be less than genuine. Given his rather laid back and low-key attitude on life Ri'ven doesn't like to accept that others might be cruel or manipulative even if he knows it for a fact, but he does what he can in his life and accepts the things that he can and can't do something about. Just because others can be that way doesn't give him any right to be, so he makes sure to be as supportive of all those around him as he can, complimenting them, helping them when they need it and just generally going out of his way to be pleasant like his mother's taught him.
If he can't get along well with someone generally Ri'ven won't even give them the time of day, but that's not to say he'll go out of his way to avoid them. Able to compartmentalize rather spectacularly, something that makes it very easy to deal with his vain and almost excessively needy brown, he can deal with just about anything that comes his way without letting it affect any other part of his life.
A small redhead abandoned on the doorstep of the Creche many turns ago, Rilaven was the picture of happy and bubbly from the moment one of the crechworkers picked him up and fell instantly in love with him. His time in the Creche was, of course, short lived due to this instant adoration on the part of his first mother and only came in twofold when she took him back to the weyr she shared with her dragonrider weyrmate who was just as instantly smitten as her wife was. Having had no children of their own despite both trying in vain attempts, the crecheworker and her green dragonrider wife took to spoiling the small boy as much as they could, giving him everything and anything that he could ever want while simultaneously expecting him to work hard to earn his keep once he was old enough to understand. Chores were set down for him from the moment he could walk and lift things. Even if it was something just as simple as fetching things within his reach or petting his mother's big green dragon in order to soothe her after a training session or a sweep, bonding with the somewhat stand-offish green despite her slight disdain for small children, which eased as he grew.
It wasn't long before he was old enough to run actual errands, clean, tend actual needs of others, and always be on the lookout for things about his mother's weyr and the actual Weyr itself that others might need. Some claimed that his mothers raised him to be this way but the young man would happily wave a hand at any of those nay-sayers as he worked himself quite happily until he was worn out, then sleeping like a dead thing once glows dimmed. While his mothers both happily informed him that he could be anything that he wanted the boy wanted nothing more than to help others and so it was with pride that he took his apprenticeship as a Healer. It took him to a different home, one that he’d never experienced before, a Hold was certainly different than a Weyr in many ways but there were a number of dragons that still flew around Fort Hold and so he felt a bit calmer. It might have taken another weyrbrat some time, but Rilaven threw himself into work the way he always had and ignored any indications of discomfort that he felt in the interest of learning.
While at Fort Hold he focused hard on his studies and with time was able to focus on the Healing techniques that eventually lead him to walk the tables to his Journeyman title. It wasn't immediate, his return to High Reaches Weyr, Rilaven happily stayed at Fort Hold for a while, still studying and knowing that he could be in contact with his mothers if he so needed with the aid of the finicky little green he still adored. It was during one of their visits that he was informed of an incoming hatching, the queen had just risen into the sky for a flight and while not every hatching could be violent it was suggested that maybe he come to help aid the healers there. After given permission from his master, Rilaven set off with his mothers to see what it was like to for a healer to work in a Weyr. Though there were some months of buildup to the hatching he never stopped learning what he could from the healers that worked there for turns and turns, dealing with fire head and many of the other ailments that plagued dragon riders. It was interesting to him to learn everything that he could, expecting that he might like to travel to different Weyrs in the future to learn more and more, seeing how he'd grown in one and was fond of dragons.
When the time came he was given the opportunity to stand with the healers and keep an eye on candidates that needed help, expected to wait at the edge of the sands for them to either come to them or be brought there. So it was that he was extremely surprised when a very angry dragonet came to the edge of the sands following a candidate that needed at the very least stitches. Though he'd been told not to get in the way of them, Rilaven stepped to block the candidate that was now off the sands from the claws of the relentless baby and was rewarded with claws to the knee, stomach and face that brought a different sort of screaming bellow from the sands than what the hatchling before him was making. A red eyed little brown dragon with wings that seemed to sparkle like fiery stars tore across the sands violently towards it's sibling, hissing and snarling for it to leave him alone. Though he was bloodied, Rilaven was confused enough to stay blocking the wounded candidate with his own body until the brown had chased it's brother away and turned back to look at him with eyes like a rainbow. It was beautiful until the little brown chose to speak and his words left his newly bonded rider laughing as he reached out to pull him in close. Never once had he met a dragon so vain, but as the little brown with his delicate features had risked his own little life to protect him, Ri'ven couldn't help but chuckle when Hoath told him to get cleaned up before he considered touching him. Which of course made his beautiful little dragon recoil a bit.
Given their location the newly minted Weyrling pair trained, after Ri'ven was admonished, and graduated into the ranks of High Reaches wingrider ranks. He did still express a desire to help the healers given his former rank and all his training, but it was in whatever free time that he had during those days. Free time that disappeared for a bit during the return of Thread only a few years after his meeting Hoath; so it was that Ri'ven and Hoath spent their days fighting Thread and then checking with the Healers when the redhead had any free time to do so. Days have begun to bleed together a bit, but there have been no regrets.
Name: Hoath Age: 11 Color: Brown Size: 80' Voice:X ~ Mr Mertle/The Sandlot Song:Can't Stop Me Now ~ Oh The Larceny Physical Description: Built almost as fragile looking as can be, despite how dainty his frame appears, this brown is leggy and long of tail which adds to his looming size which ends just a couple feet shy of maximum. Everything about him screams of cleanliness and given how often he's washed and oiled Hoath tends to glow in a way that makes the pattern on his wings appear even more starry. Personality: Vanity is an understatement when it comes to this dragon, even the tiniest bit of dirt gets on his hide or Thread glances down his side or wing then Hoath will be inconsolable until his rider does something, anything, about it. Sometimes a pouting child if he doesn't get seen to immediately, it has lead to his rider cleaning or seeing to his wounds straight away before anything else can happen. If he could Hoath would honestly get cleaned and oiled every single day, to some extent that actually happens if Ri'ven has the time. As such, thanks to what the dragon views as extreme amounts of hard working loyalty, Hoath is endlessly loyal to his rider as a result, even riskily so.
While he is vain and dislikes dirt and damage he has no issue throwing himself in the way of danger and damage to save Ri'ven if anything should risk his life. Hoath gets angry if his rider risks himself but he'll make certain to always be there to save him just as he was during their first meeting at the edge of the sands many turns ago. Not selfless, exactly, he just doesn't want anything to happen to such a good man as it was that heart and supportive nature that drew him towards a man that wasn't even a candidate.
Contrary to his own almost contrary personality, Hoath's vanity is not above helping others (or above whining even when helping them), especially during Threadfall. Eyes always watchful, it's not that he's determined to protect everyone that he can, but unnecessary damage can be avoided if others watch out for each other and the brown is bound and determined to see that none of his wingmates overextend themselves. It could be said that he's picking up on Ri'ven's desire as a former healer to see that no one hurts themselves or is damaged physically but it comes down to simple mechanics. If one of his wingmates is hurt then that weakens their entire flight formation and if the entire flight formation is weakened even a little then it puts himself and his rider at risk.
ocelotocelotocelotocelot ▊▊Fire Lizards °
ocelotocelotocelotocelot ▊▊Threadfall Stats °
Burning Aces Ri’ven of Brown Hoath HP: 40 Status Effect: XP: Target Accuracy: 8 Flame Length: 8 General Stamina: 9 General Agility: 8 Between Accuracy: 9 Pain Resilience: 8 Instinct: 7 Luck: 6
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Posted: Sun Jul 05, 2020 11:40 pm
Name: Aranali Age: 30 Nameday: 3546.12.24 Sex: Male Sexual Orientation: Pansexual Aromantic Weyr: Western Weyr Rider Rank: Wingrider (Fire Storm) Previous Rank/Craft: Weyrbrat Voice:X ~ Aaron Davis/Spider Verse Song:Soldiers ~ OTHERWISE Physical Description: A dark figure that rides a dark dragon, Aranali's sable skin and cropped black hair stand out against the starkness of his surroundings near the beach quite dramatically. Every inch of his large form simply makes him stand out more, which is hardly what he wants at all. Broad of chest shoulders, his body is built around lean muscle rather than being bulky but it developed all the same as he's been riding and he often works his muscles all the harder in his spare time to keep in shape. Not a man that might ever be mistaken for anything other than a fighter of some sort, be it an actual fighter or a dragonrider, the lack of general emotion on Aranali's face can make those that haven't seen the knot on his shoulder rather nervous until he smiles. He's not that intense a person, he's just often serious, but once he begins to laugh the bluerider is much more approachable.
After a rather nasty fall Aranali lost his right arm just at the shoulder thanks to a burn and nearly died. There's nothing but scar there now and he's been re-learning how to function and fight thread with just his left arm now but thanks to the burn scars he's constantly stopping by the healers to switch bandages. Personality: It could be that deep down he's incredibly caring, or at least one could surmise that, but Aranali is the most giving and dutiful rider that one would never picture riding on the back of a dramatic blue. He'll follow orders without question, dive into danger obediently and in general might have a rather hard time saying 'no' to his large dragon, in fact it took him quite a bit of training to even be able to draw a line in the sand and they only come to agreements when it comes to their safety and the need for Western to have strong riders. Even now the near blind obedience he has to orders has others walking over him as if he were simply an object, but he doesn't see the issue with it. Not if it's for the Weyr, for he's nothing if not utterly loyal to his Weyr, most everything in his life since the return of thread has been to work towards the safety of all those involved. Be they fellow wing riders or the people down below he wants to keep them all incredibly safe and so trains to be just the best that he can be, giving his whole heart to Western.
In fact he places others so very high above himself, respects them and truly everyone else so highly that he tends to look down upon himself. Though the healthy level of respect he has for people is part of it, it's not the entire story as being the son of another bluerider morphed his early years as a child quite a bit. Even now as an adult to see his mother look at him as though she were seeing another's face sends him quite deep into himself, making an already quiet man even more silent and reflective. While it stemmed from his mother's sad eyes it bled into all aspects of his life and left Aranali thinking less of himself so greatly that it even puts him at odds with his own fierce dragon at times. Even around others if he receives a compliment he'll immediately shoot it down without a thought, making a comment on his own inadequacy even if it's not the case, making others shy away from talking to him often, as he can be coarse in rebuffing compliments. Should others talk to him they'll find him a bit stoic but it's not intentional, he'd rather stay silent and pick up on their emotions and needs rather than baring his own feelings out into the open, as it's only served to hurt others in the past. No, the quieter he can stay the happier everyone will be and his attention to other's emotions is pinpoint as a result.
Aranali was... unexpected. Simply put he was lucky to even be born as his mother had rolled an ankle dancing and only then discovered her growing child in her belly, a child that came as a reminder of the lover that had left her heart behind. Even as a young child the boy was acutely aware that his mother wasn't always looking at him despite how she was talking or teaching him, rather she could see his father in him and that tendency only got worse as he grew and came to resemble the man even more. A man he'd never even gotten the chance to know or meet, all he could see was his face and question what it was about him that seemed to make his mother sad at times and seemingly only when looking at him. For surely none of the children she had after received the same sad eyes.
Being a weyrbrat he had the opportunity to experience the Weyr in all it's quirks and joys long before Thread was even thought to return and he shared the experience with his more outgoing sister for quite a few turns before he grew of age to stand as a candidate. It was everything he'd wanted to try and Aranali threw himself into Candidacy with a desire that seemed quite far from his normally quiet demeanor. Turns passed on those sands, working at his duties without question and becoming what one would consider a perfect soldier with his silent loyalty to Western Weyr and it was all these turns not impressing that added a bit to his general feeling of inferiority towards himself but he pushed along until the time finally came, until the chance encounter that cemented everything he'd been working towards.
Kolosoth did not come into the world quietly, rather he exploded onto the scene spectacularly and was instantly distraught that the Red Star was not in the sky, that Thread wasn't falling, that he wouldn't be a warrior! How did Aranali know that he was feeling all these things so soon out of the shell? He was being screamed at the entire time the dark blue stalked to and fro on the sands with his wings mantled and looking simply distraught, it took everything that he had to calm down the dragon he was suddenly aware was his own as it kept calling him 'mine' over and over. Constantly asking him why, why things were this way and why did it have to be this way when he could show his potential so much better fighting his mortal enemy? After quite a long time of coaxing the dark blue wore himself out and allowed Aranali to carry him off the sands and into their new partnership and life together, food first, feats of daring later. Training proved to be difficult as telling Kolosoth 'no' proved to be more than a little difficult and took the aid of his Weyrlingmaster to perfect fully.
While there were others that slacked off with Thread not falling on Pern, others that simply left when they made it through their training, Aranali and Kolosoth stayed with Western Weyr, with their family. His blue wouldn't have it any other way really and neither would he, for it gave him the opportunity to be near his mother and all his siblings while they were growing and he wanted to help! Between training and sweeps, wing drills and games, somehow he managed to devote a large amount of time to his family and was utterly thrilled to be there for the sibling he connects with the most in personality. While he plays no favorites in his family, Nonami has always had a place of affection in his heart as they are just quiet enough that he feels whole-y comfortable just being together with them in silence.
Finally, unexpectedly to anyone other than High Reaches and Kolosoth, Thread returned and the pair had their opportunity to show what they were truly made of the entire time. Thanks to all the extra training and focusing very hard on drills the pair did spectacularly in their first Threadfall, managing to avoid any terrible damage, but it wasn't the two of them that had suffered such. Once on the ground with it all over, for the time, Aranali was informed of his mother's fall and subsequent injuries and his heart simply broke for her, a dancer all around. Though he was still dedicated to fighting Thread he spent as much time with his mother as he could, helping with his younger siblings as the youngest of them all had only just been born. It took time, but he was relieved to see his mother back on her feet again and continues to silently support his family even if he's not needed nearly as much.
Name: Kolosoth Age: 10 Color: Blue Size: 66' Voice:X ~ Mike Royce/Castle Song:What's Up Danger? ~ Blackway & Black Caviar Physical Description: Seen from afar Kolosoth might resemble an inky black dot on the sky with how dark his hide appears and while his wings might be paler that darkness bleeds across them as if his very actions are so fast that he's outrunning his own color. Up close it's plain to see the streaks of color that start at his great head and trail backwards towards his tale, across his back and wings. It almost appears as if he were wearing a mask to cover his near constantly red eyes. His long body matches his ribboned markings, almost appearing as though he's all long neck and tail, all slender limbs and towering height. While he won't stand as tall as some larger browns his long legs have him raised above most smaller and many blues. With his head held high it appears as though Kolosoth is looking down on the world when really he'd rather just fight alongside them, for his body was made for it with his well formed and lean muscles. Personality: Kolosoth was born a very angry dragon. Where was the thread that he was destined to fight? Where were the feats of daring that he was meant to share with wingmates? Oh everything was so very wrong from the very beginning but at least he knew who he was looking for, a comrade in arms for his warrior heart and one that would work with him towards Western Weyr's protection. Even if there was no sharding thread currently. This blue might come across as violent to some but he's merely a warrior deep in his hearts, one that wishes to engage in great battle and make great sacrifices, even as his rider attempts to hold him back with all his might. For turns it was denied him but with the return of thread Kolosoth is finally in his element and able to show the skills he has, but that needed honed at first. If he were allowed, the stubborn dragon would attempt to fly an entire threadfall with his metallic brethren and he certainly has the stamina to attempt it even if he would fail.
Because of this he has eyes that shine for metallics, for the golden beauties that rise through the sky and the bronzes that chase. Not because he wishes he could chase one or the other but because he envies them; their size and the ability to fly for an entire threadfall rather than merely half a fall at beginning or end. Despite his immense size for his color he is nothing when compared to a bronze or gold, despite how hard he works he’ll never quite match them in any way and it rankles him deeply in his warrior’s heart. When his rider’s younger sister impressed to a gold there were threads of red deep in his eyes until Aranali calmed him and a tinge of jealous is always present in his hearts. Oh to fly as strong as a metallic dragon...
Still, his lot in life is hardly as foul as the dramatic blue might make it out to be. Being as large as he is he has the strength to fight for quite some time and still have energy to spare if any need further aid. As in action, the same as in love, Kolosoth is a warrior who may chase rarely but is often covered in ichor by the end of such events as every male chasing after a rising beauty is a rival that might make a wise decision to avoid being caught in his purple sights should those eyes turn fiery red.
Name: F'nar (Filnaran) Age: 21 Nameday: 3555.11.5 Sex: Male Sexual Orientation: Heterosexual Weyr: High Reaches Weyr Rider Rank: Wingrider (Harbingers) Previous Rank/Craft: Apprentice Runner Breeder Voice:X ~ Tanaka/Tanaka-kun is Always Listless Song:The Stable Song ~ Gregory Alan Isakov Physical Description: Standing only a willowy 5'7" with ruffled blond hair and soft brown eyes, the only thing that even seems spectacular about him is his tan and how much it makes his other features pop by bright comparison. F'nar is a little on the feminine side of appearance but had struggled to let others know the strength that hides beneath that his entire life and has no issue showing the muscles that a lifetime of farm work and working with runners has tempered. Scars run all over him from the shoulders down, a few even hidden by his ruffled hair from a lifetime of being a klutz and stumbling into things. Luckily for him none were exceptionally deep so none stand out terribly and Neirinth has been seeing to it he won't receive yet more.
Personality: More than one attempt must be made to gain this young rider's attention or trust in any way, even if he's willing to go the extra mile to help someone else with something he'll soon retreat away. Others tend to be just a bit too loud or even too outgoing for F'nar who would rather help from the shadows and stay calmly rooted there where nothing too terrible can happen. Or so he believes. But he can be a bit blind to the happenings around himself, which is another of the reasons he prefers the shadows to the spotlight in any way, add that to his shy nature and the walls that appear to be intentionally erected are simply perceived by others when they're truly non-existent.
His tendency to be oblivious to his surroundings have landed him both figuratively and literally in a bit of danger before, as he'll simply blunder into things without realizing that they were ever there. If F'nar has a goal in mind and is thinking hard about it or focused solely upon that, which happens more often than it should, it puts him even more at risk for it, but his determination to finish tasks and complete orders tends not help in any way. Even if it means doing two or three things at once he'll see a task through from start to finish with complete dedication. Especially if it was given to him by his wingleader or anyone of importance, see here: everyone, in the Weyr as his dedication to his tasks stems from his dedication to the Weyr that gave him his chance to Stand and shelled Neirinth.
In fact those that slack off or show anything other than the same sort of devotion to the Weyr that has taken care of them in many circumstances don't get to see his nicest side. Oh for certain he won't say anything overly rude or even maybe at all, he's just a bit too gentle and shy for that after all, but his critical judgement of them burns deep. F'nar'll step up his game to make up for them if he can, making sure to watch after those particular individuals from that point forward.
Born to a small farming family in Landing on the Southern Continent of Pern, Filnaran is the middle son of three and tended to be a bit overlooked in light of his general personality. Both of his brothers were far more boisterous but that didn't bother him in the least as he often became their silent shadow for quite a few turns until the eldest went off to follow a craft. In all those turns the little blond puff of boy had spent watching the runners, sleeping in their stalls with them at times, just in general spending time with them more than even his siblings and parents during the daytime. Though they couldn't speak it was as if he knew exactly what they wanted, exactly how to treat them with his gentle hands and heart. His father, noticing his interest in them, took Filnaran on a number of deliveries to different farms with him so the boy could learn to ride, get the feel for them as it seemed the most logical course of interest for him to follow in the future.
It was during one of these deliveries that the shyest boy in his family met a girl who seemed the shyest in hers as well, bonus points that she had grown up on a farm too. A bit younger than himself but none-the-less quite cute to him even at that time, Filnaran would become awkwardly spoken when they arrived at her farm and often clam up on the ride there. Though his father needled at him and joked and grinned, Filnaran simply wouldn't tell him which of the sisters he so clearly had a young crush on as it was simple puppy love, but the time had already come for him to choose his path in life and that would take him to a different continent entirely. Following the interest and indeed passion he had in runnerbeasts, the boy left for Keroon on his tenth nameday, wanting to focus upon breeding when he joined the other crafters in the Hold.
Keroon still didn't manage to break him out of his shy shell but Filnaran was in his element at last, learning more about runners every day, getting to handle the great beasts with his gentle heart and skilled hands. Turns he spent there and had one interest and one interest alone and yet there came time when he met the same girl, now quite a bit older, that had stilled his words once before. It had only been a few turns, really, and he believed that he would actually get the chance to work up the courage to talk to her but once again fate intervened before he could work up the courage to break his silence. Only a turn after the new herder craft apprentice appeared that clammed him up, a rider appeared on the back of a great dragon that made even the runners he worked with seem small. The pair came offering opportunity, a chance to stand for the most recent clutch at High Reaches Weyr, a place that he knew nothing about.
When he began to shyly seem to decline one of his masters spoke up and told him to take the opportunity and to work around the runners in the Weyr during his free times so that he could come back to them if he aged out. It seemed a logical course and anywhere that had runnerbeasts was always a good place to Filnaran so he accepted the offer and gave up his old life. He didn't, in fact, impress at that first clutch or any of the ones after for three turns while the teenager worked quite hard around HR to focus on both his candidate duties and the chance to learn about the runnerbeasts and advance just a bit in his craft with the help of the Weyrs journeymen. Around his third turn there, just after Turn's End and at the change into a new one a pudgy brown cracked his shell and delicately stepped his way over to his new rider, abruptly known as F'nar from then on. Not at all expecting it, but thrilled to bits to meet a romantic that matched his own gentle spirit so well and lifted him up from the inside out.
But it wasn't to last. The pair weren't even out of their Weyrlinghood when Thread returned and life has been far more dangerous and risky ever since. They were a lucky pair to graduate and have survived so long while being so new at it, but F'nar is fond of reminding anyone that questions it that High Reaches is simply the best at training.
Name: Neirinth Age: 4 Color: Brown Size: 83' Voice:X ~ Agent J/MIB Song:Lilac ~ 美波 Physical Description: Only a foot away from maximum size and built with a frame that any warrior would be somewhat wistful about, Neirinth's shorter wings and slight outwardly twisted headknobs give him an odd quirky look for his bulky frame. Touched by what appear to be sparkles despite his darker hide, those and the slight softness of his stomach betrays his otherwise utter lack of any type of warrior ichor pumping through his great hearts. Personality: No, surely this is not a brown that was shelled to be a warrior of any sort, even if he looks every bit the part when fighting thread. Neirinth is a lover, not a fighter, and would rather be stretched on his weyr ledge watching the clouds pass over, giving each a name after the most beautiful of males he'd seen. With eyes near constantly blue or purple he wanders through life with a somewhat dreamy appearance and mindset and daydreaming of the day that he might finally live as romantically as some of those beautiful couples that he sees cuddled together. In fact it leaves him feeling just a touch saddened knowing that he likely won't ever catch the eye of a male as well as all the golds that reign over High Reaches.
Although he daydreams of it, there's no jealousy in his heart for any that have found their own, for Neirinth is their greatest, if slightly quiet, supporter. He feels that all deserve love and that could be why his great hearts broke so fully when Thread returned to Pern mere months after he hatched and began to break couples and families apart. Even if it hurt to see, he knows that he's not the best that High Reaches can offer and yet the brown still flies to try and protect his wingmates the best way he can with as little to offer as he thinks he has.
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Harbingers F’nar of Brown Neirinth HP: 41 Status Effect: N/A XP: Target Accuracy: 8 Flame Length: 9 General Stamina: 18 General Agility: 8 Between Accuracy: 10 Pain Resilience: 11 Instinct: 9 Luck: 8
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Posted: Sun Jul 05, 2020 11:42 pm
Name: Aice Age: 36 Nameday: 3540.7.20 Sex: Female Sexual Orientation: The element of surprise Weyr: Western Weyr Rider Rank: Wingrider (Star Flame) Previous Rank/Craft: Sleight of hand trickster? Anyone? Bueller? Voice:X ~ Gamora/Guardians of the Galaxy Song:Fall in Line ~ Christina Aguilera Physical Description: Standing a curvy 5'5" and knowing what to do with every inch of it, she might just leave you underestimating her until it's far too late. Thick curls of hair are often dyed blue to hide the blonde, to help her stand out and her even brighter blue eyes can be both expressive and incredibly deceiving when she wants them to. Near always dressed to the nines, shimmering jewelry, often gold, adorns her and there are large questions that might be raised as to where that came from. Without question, Aice stands out until the exact moment she doesn't wish to anymore and that's when she disappears. It might be hard to believe that someone like herself might become all but invisible in a crowd, but it's simply the 'magic trick' of appearing to fit in. Personality: Aice is a lady that knows what she wants and if those around her aren't careful, she very well may just take it. Life has taught her many tricks and while it may not have started off very easily, the turns leading up to her impression molded her into the clever little thief that she's become in life. It's true, the actual thieving has been left far behind, but that doesn't keep her eyes from wandering and a compulsion deep within herself pushes her towards anything shiny or of significant value. While she may not steal it any longer, she'll do her best to worm it off the person in another way with her wiles and skills in persuasion. It's a trap. Any twist of attention she gives to another person always comes with a caveat that only she knows, more's the risk for others but why would she own up to it for them when it's so much more fun to glean what she wants on her own terms?
Her fully composed and all but dismissively arrogant appearance is closer to who she really is, but does anyone fully know other than Finnath? Not likely even those that have had connections with her in the past know her fully as she's more apt to use those about her than actually have any care for them. Truly, only her beloved white holds a place in her heart and while 'devoted' might be a strong term for it, in her book anyway, she's willing to move mountains for her dragon... just in private. In fact the two work together as quite the team as he possesses the same odd ability to dissipate himself as she herself, but for different reasons altogether.
Because of the life she's chosen to lead, Aice has needed to remain somewhat flexible and mobile until as of late, adapt to her surroundings and move with the flow of who wanted her head the most or least. As such she's become altogether unpredictable and her jumpiness is rather hard to track with as she can survive just about anywhere and thrive under the conditions as if they were perfectly business as usual. Whether it be the heart of Bitra's most seedy establishment or the halls of Fort Hold itself, the white rider can hold herself with the character needed for any situation. Or at least fake it until it's believable!
It wasn't so long ago that the rider knew hardship in her own life and though she'd be loath to admit it to any that asked, she has a certain penchant for giving away small bits of her ill gotten gains for the benefit of others. Aice won't own up to doing it, but if a mark ends up in a child's hands, if food were to suddenly appear on the doorstep of a family, she certainly wouldn't know a thing about it. To call her altruistic would be far too generous, it's more a deep understanding of how the world works and ways to undermine it's chaotic influences, even if she's often the most chaotic.
Positive Trait List Poised, Sensual, Adaptable, Clever Negative Trait List Unpredictable, Compulsive, Haughty, Thievish
History:
Life didn't start out so well at all but the only way to move from the bottom was to reach for the very top with all one's might, so that's just what Aice did! Born the daughter of two unskilled drudges in Bitra she was sold almost immediately away, the fourth child in a pattern that would continue on for the power of a mark. Though little is known of her earliest years, the small blonde girl eventually found her way into the brothels as anything but a worker. Or rather, not of that sort. Aice spent her days cleaning and scrubbing, making sure that every inch of the establishment was clean and that the women both running it and working it had everything that they needed in the way of support. To call it mind numbing would be an understatement.
With every passing turn she asked the owner for a better position, to teach her and let her gain the skills the other girls did as she advanced in age. With every passing turn she was struck down for even daring to ask. So in order to find her way out Aice had to resort to other means and there were means aplenty in Bitra Hold, from gambling to fighters, racers and betters, chasers and makers. There was anything one could wish to find in the hold that was so close to Benden Weyr as to make it's seething underbelly a large question mark of confusion, but it was here that Aice disappeared and learned more about how life worked than many much older than her might ever dream. Purses were fat in places, those she learned first and through trial and error figured out how to make herself almost a ghost as she passed through a crowd, her own pockets full on the other side. Though barely into her teens, she used her already enchanting looks to win over any that wished to 'change her life for the better' and subsequently robbed them blind. Without a place to call 'home' she wasn't known for holding onto her fortunes for very long and it took a time or two for her to realize that jewelry was profitable, but dangerous to keep despite it's gleam.
Time passed that she was given an opportunity by a passing dragon, a chance to find a 'purpose' and though she sneered inwardly she leapt at the chance to leave Bitra and her many amassed dissenters in the dust of a dragon's wings. Little did Aice know that life in a Weyr, though much more laid back, was far more challenging than what she'd ever known before. Once again she was working the same physical labor she'd pulled herself from in the brothels so long before, once again she was looked down upon as one of the lowest in residence. While she contemplated many times the chance to leave and go back to what she knew, with every turn that she stood she saw the connection between dragon and future rider and it intrigued her. If such a connection was possible, then the whole world could open up as a result and that was what fueled the flames in her and kept Aice staying at the Weyr just long enough to Impress to Finnath. Though some have commented to the dragon's color he was never anything but shining perfection to Aice and the little white wormed his way right between her ribs to the place that she might call her heart. An organ he assured her she had despite her adamant disbelief that such a thing could give her a conscience at all.
Staying only long enough to be trained and trained well, for she and her newly beloved Finnath weren't about to die in the darkness of Between if she had any say in it. Off they went, with all of Pern in their pockets for turns and turns, no place to settle and fully call home for more than a few months, always on the move and willing to make connections. To do whatever needed done in order to move upward in the world. Yet Finnath kept contact with 'home' for them both, always adamant that there would come a time that they'd need those connections, for who could know what the future would bring? Time came and passed just as the little white had surmised, but not in the manner in which he'd believed. Thread fell hard above their heads in the first days of its return, leaving the pair fleeing for their lives as so many others lost theirs. Though everything within her balked when her dragon suggested it, Aice found herself once more back on the sands of Western Weyr's beach, asking permission to join their ranks officially. Finally a dragon rider in the face of a threat unlike the ones she'd ever known as a child.
Besides, there were still opportunities to be had and chances to be won with skill!
Name: Finnath Age: 12 Color: White - Male Size: 30' Voice:X ~ Hunter S. Thompson/The Rum Diaries Song:Run Rabbit Junk ~ Ghost in the Shell Physical Description: Unassumingly 'average' in every way a dragon can be built, Finnath has expressive features despite this and is quite the athlete. His hide, like all white dragons, seems to hold a rainbow of colors within it even if they aren't overly obvious but with the opalescence of his hide the glittering flecks of what look like sparkles draw the eye when sunlight hits him. Personality: While one might expect a white dragon to stick out like a sore thumb in the chromatic world of standard color dragons, Finnath has a certain knack for disappearing like the ghost he so resembles. It could be that he has very little presence in terms of boisterous personality, it could be that he's so very very quiet, it could even be that the little white is just small enough to be looked over, but whatever it is about him, others often miss him. For any other dragon this would be a shame, but this was exactly the sort of thing that Finniath was made for. Right from the shell, a shell broken by the rough housing of a sibling in his favor, this white knew that life wasn't fair, that things sometimes needed to be leveled for all involved to get ahead and is willing to work around the normal to reach the extraordinary.
Finnath is not a perfect balance to Aice's tendencies so much as a partner in crime, the one that grounds her and works alongside her in order to fulfill their needs with as little risk and drama as possible. If there's anything he hates more than thread in the world it's dramatics, be it a person crying or explosive anger, the white is cool to the touch in situations and would rather exit stage left from any confrontation that looks too much. If he could avoid others with volatile tempers altogether but it would have meant not even meeting his beloved rider and that's something he can't conceive of. So even if the pair of them must fly into the belly of Bitra or rush flaming against strands of threads the loyalty in Finnath's heart won't be broken so easily.
His loyalty cannot be bought, but it stems all the way back to the Weyr in which he was hatched, the thread of which brought he and his rider back to the safety of Western with Thread's return. Finnath might be a trickster and a dragon willing to do what it takes, but he's a fighter deep down and the sort of fight makes no difference to him so long as he's fighting it with his rider.
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Aice of White Finnath HP: 15 Status Effect: N/A XP: Target Accuracy: 7 Flame Length: 4 General Stamina: 4 General Agility: 3 Between Accuracy: 2 Pain Resilience: 3 Instinct: 4 Luck: 2
Posted: Sun Jul 05, 2020 11:43 pm
Name: D'ein Age: 28 Nameday: 3548.9.5 Sex: Trans man Sexual Orientation: Hmmmmm.... Weyr: Western Weyr Rider Rank: Wingrider (Flame's Fury) Previous Rank/Craft: Weyrbrat Physical Description: Well below average height at 5'5" he appears to be nothing more than a teenager himself despite nearing his thirties but he shows no signs of it. Thin and willowy with a natural tendency towards going with the flow rather than fighting against it, he is strong but it shows in different ways than brute nature. D'ein's skin is tanned from being outdoors quite often and astride a dragon, slight freckles run the bridge of his nose below his brown eyes and lines from squinting into the sunlight are just starting to pull at the corners of those large orbs. Shoulder length hair is pulled back into a tail with a fringe of bangs that run across his forehead and get longer just before his ears, though he can let it down it often annoys him with it's thickness and finds it easier.
The scars on his arms pale in comparison to the scarring that mars his back, given to him by the claws of an angry brown hatchling that took the life of one of his friends. D'ein had attempted to save his friend and paid the price with his own flesh before Haezeth cracked from his shell to save his life-mate. Long and angry in both shape and appearance, the scars range from the nape of his neck and shoulders down nearly to his tailbone. He will be the very first to tell any Candidate to avoid getting between a dragon and it's intended target, knowing full well what it means to do so.
Personality:Thread broke D'ein's heart when it returned after it's long absence, or it would be more accurate to say that the resulting death's caused a clench in his compassionate heart. So proud and resolute was his dragon's will and his own loyalty to Western's training that seeing so many fall was a bit disillusioning to his naive state of trust. While his compassion never once wavered his heart locked down around itself, he'd already lost quite a few friends at that point so what was the use in making more? He masks his distaste in talking about himself and opening his own heart to others with staunch professionalism in everything he does, in every aspect of his life. None can easily breach the wall that the rider's set up between himself others for his own selfish reasons, but they won't find him to be cruel or obtuse in any way.
Despite his discreet manners of dealing with others and the way he sidesteps other's friendship and interest, D'ein isn't at all fond of secrets. In fact he's almost violent about how against being lied to he is, going so far as to end friendships and cut ties with those that have kept secrets from him. This might stem from how the entire Weyr knows the only secret that would ever have mattered for him, how many know of his deepest parts he might not have shown anyone. It's one thing to be reserved and not overly open with others but how could anyone get to know a lie? Despite that particular displeasure in life he has few problems working alongside people he's not fond of thanks to his own professional manner. They'll never find him spreading truths after discovering lies, he's far too discreet for that. Everyone has their own life.
However the scars on his back show how careless he can be towards his own personal being, whether life or physical health he often puts the needs of the Weyr and wingmates before himself. Most evidence of this can be found in the scars on his body, for truly he's been reckless since his childhood and need be reined in by others if someone is in trouble. Haezeth has made quite a difference in this by pressing the negatives that come from being so careless for his physical being as it now means something for two beings now rather than just himself. It was a shock to nearly die on the sands, but he has to actively work on it it even all these turns later.
Positive Trait List Compassionate, Professional, Discreet Negative Trait List Anti-secrets, Personally Unforthcoming, Reckless
History:
Born to Western Weyr as the daughter of two Lower Cavern workers that tried to raise her but found themselves too busy and quickly split up, Daviein grew up somewhat alone in the Creche. Many of the children in the Creche didn't know what to do with her as she, very early on, stated she was not a girl but a boy born into the wrong body and that was that. From the moment that Daviein could talk he became the voice of reason among the children of the Creche and was considered, in some odd way, to be the mother of the group with his soft voice and gentle ways.
As luck would have it his very nature gained him friendship among the other children and if there was ever anyone that spoke out about his appearance or personality they were quickly met with a wall of resistance in his friends. Those friends came and went as they all grew up, some of the older ones going on to Impress and others going off to apprentice, the younger ones like Daviein stayed and either worked to help the Weyr function by doing tasks given to them or generally ran amok. Usually he was in the group of the former, choosing to make himself useful rather than cause any trouble, he transitioned into his Candidacy without much problem and happily took up studies in everything that Western could offer him. Often found in the Records Room with scrolls and hides unbound all around him, the now teenage boy was his most vulnerable at these times and that vulnerability was abused on one memorable occasion that ended with a worker from the lower caverns being removed from the Weyr for his violating the personal space that Daviein did his best to keep.
On the heels of the encounter Daviein realized his own naivete about his safety and began to dress and act in accordance with what he saw other men doing around him. Though he still did nothing to hide his otherwise confusing nature, he showed far less skin and his friends would come to comment how he wore it as if it were armor that none could penetrate through. Luckily for him it seemed that the violation of his body had been a one time thing at the hands of a man that thought he deserved more than he had. The Candidatemaster assured him that he would never face such things again while he was standing as a Candidate in the Weyr and his friends offered their support for their even quieter friend as he came to terms with what had happened and how he would forge through the constant anxiety.
As luck would have it he did not have to stand as a Candidate more than once, the very first time was his last and it had been more than enough just that one time. While standing at the age of fifteen for a large clutch of eggs he was happy to be with friends that encouraged him to try and reach out to the steadily hatching dragonets, a few of them Impressing to his joy before the Sands were ripped apart. An angry brown hatchling tore it's way from it's egg and proceeded to tear through all the candidates that tried to approach him, all trying to calm his screaming anger. Daviein stepped forward to catch the angry brown dragon, hoping to talk him down from the destruction and was slapped full in the face by a tail as the little dragon turned it's whirling red eyes on one of his friends. Startled and stunned by the blow that had been more powerful than he was expecting, he turned back to see the brown tearing at an older boy, ripping his chest, face, and arms to shreds as the boy screamed on his back.
Launching himself at the brown hatchling once more, the teenager caught it by the back legs and pulled it from his friend, causing the angry creature to turn it's eyes on him this time. Before it could even begin it's onslaught, which would have proved fatal, Daviein ran from it, ducking and twisting out of it's reach to grab his friend, trying his hardest to drag him to the edge of the sands. Blood soaked his robes and Candidates screamed all around him as he was caught in the back by claws that raked down his skin, still he refused to stop pulling his dying friend away from the carnage, even as tears ran down his face and gasps of pain took him to his knees. Sure that he was about to die at the claws of the angry hatchling for taking him away from his intended victim, the attacks suddenly ceased and he could only look through blurry eyes in the direction the brown was looking, dragging himself back to his feet to try once more. Through eyes watery from tears he saw the large bronze hatchling that snarled at his brother who actually cowed to face him, showing a cowardice that a ringing voice told Daviein was a telltale sign of his brother's weakness.
Confused by the sharp voice he could only continue to stare as the bronze dragon strode forward and shoved him from his feet to the sand. Pushing his face into Daviein's he, Haezeth as he referred to himself, informed his newly bonded rider that he would see no further harm come to him and would gladly help him to remove his friend's body from the sands if he asked it of him. Still thoroughly confused but beginning to understand more with each breath he pulled into his shaky lungs, D'ein ran his hand over the bronze muzzle and the rainbow that met his eyes filled the boy's heart so fully that he finally understood just how loved and needed he indeed was. Pulling himself up to much groaning and shaking, blood still pouring down his back, D'ein did the last thing he could ever do for his friend and carried him from the sands with Haezeth's help. Healers swarmed him, taking his friend and forcing him onto a stretcher face down, to his immense relief.
From that moment on he could only think of the day with a mix of uplifting joy and deep crushing sorrow, knowing that though he Impressed his friend would never know that same feeling, or indeed any feeling ever again. D'ein had seen enough death by that time in his life that he was truly caught off-guard when Thread returned many years after his Weyrling training and his gentle heart broke even further. Haezeth proved to be incredibly adept at burning the wicked stuff from the air, having taken his training flights as seriously as D'ein himself did and the two made quiet the pair of flying aces in the air, wanting only to see the Thread removed and other riders protected.
Name: Haezeth Age: 13 Color: Bronze Size: 92' Physical Description: This big bronze isn't just big, he's immense. Built streamlined but long with lots of lean muscle and a spectacular wingspan, Haezeth is simply hard to miss. Generally his faceted eyes tend towards red or orange with his rough irritation. Personality: Haezeth is a bronze that knew exactly what he wanted from the moment he broke his tough shell and he saw it reflected in the eyes of his perfect match, standing on the sands before him looking so small and concerned, so covered in the blood of both himself and another. If any should be brave enough to point out the oddness of his rider they'll be met with a pair of swirling red eyes and and even if his teeth stay covered his radiating anger is often enough to have grown men back away from him, no matter how brave they believe themselves. This dragon made the correct choice in partner thank you, any with a differing opinion can see their way to the door, a dragon always knows best and D'ein's peaceful and compassionate personality balances out his strong and often opinionated one.
So help anyone that does anything to hurt his rider, from his mental state to anything involving his physical being. Haezeth keeps a safe eye on anything that his brown brother, the one that scarred his beloved rider so, might be doing. To the bronze dragon's amusement he left the Weyr, but that didn't keep him from keeping tabs on him and certainly galvanized his desire to protect both his rider and the people that his rider desired to keep safe.
Social but not to the point of being overly friendly with anyone, he enjoys the company of his wingmates and will happily spend time with them even outside of maneuvers and training. Friendship is not a strong point of his, he's more protective of others than friendly, but there are a fair few that have made their way into his hearts through constant attempts. Once the hard shell of Haezeth's defenses is broken through he's actually kind and can be sweet to those rare few. He isn't all prickly and overprotective.
Not as power hungry as some of the other bronze dragons that fly in the wings of Western, this bronze will be the very first to tell any of them that he is fine with where he ranks. Just because he does not have a strong drive to be the Weyrleader or rank as high as he can in the hierarchy of his Weyr does not mean that he is lacking in ambition, instead he keeps it close to his chest and watches the ever fluctuating state of things with a careful eye for his own uses. The opportunity for power to change hands can happen rather quickly and one can rest assured that Haezeth is paying attention and biding his time for the moment to arise where he might gain even a slight rise in rank.
ocelotocelotocelotocelot ▊▊Threadfall Stats °
D'ein of Bronze Haezeth HP: 46 Status Effect: N/A XP: Target Accuracy: 8 Flame Length: 8 General Stamina: 7 General Agility: 4 Between Accuracy: 4 Pain Resilience: 11 Instinct: 7 Luck: 4
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Lonely Phantom
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Posted: Sun Jul 05, 2020 11:44 pm
Name: Liaven Age: 17 Nameday: 3559.3.7 Sex: Male Sexual Orientation: Awkward series of hand signals Weyr: Western Weyr Rider Rank: Wingrider (Flame's Fury) Previous Rank/Craft: Apprentice Trauma Healer Song:The Scientist ~ Coldplay Physical Description: 'Pocket Sized' has been a term thrown around to describe Liaven's height and size far too often for anyone to consider him more than a child. Short in stature from birth and slight like the mother that bore him, his shaggy blonde hair and large doleful brown eyes have brought many a mother to his side asking if he were lost or needed help. Fingers always stained with ink, he cares little for making himself look as though he belongs in his surroundings. His clothing style of choice makes it worse, as he can be found wearing a large hooded coat that shows loving age and any manner of large baggy clothing that seems awkward for his tiny body, generally this is due to his aversion to cold temperatures.
Across his face he wears what looks to be a surgeon's mask, an act so impressed upon him by his mother from a young age that he's taken to wearing one near constantly ever since. The very picture it paints of his seemingly sad eyes peering out and no visible expression otherwise has mixed responses from those around him that don't know why it's worn.
Personality: Liaven is not the look on his face. His looks can definitely be deceiving to any that haven't gotten to know him well enough but no matter what one might think, he is not at all sad. If asked he'll bluntly respond that he was focusing and move back to the notes that he was surely taking in his goal of writing down everything he hears in studies or from healers and dragonriders around him. Every little nugget of information is important to him and he'll stop at nothing to write them all down because those around him were so kind as to take the time to tell him. Knowledge is his life, anything that might get him closer to his goal of being helpful is knowledge and therefore vastly important. However, while he understands that these things might be of importance to him, Liaven is well aware that they may not be to everyone and has never once bragged or brought up his study skills other than to offer them as assistance to fellow lesson-mates. His pursuit of knowledge is to help others, and he's never thought of it in any other way, never desiring praise or recognition for what he's learned other than to continue the act of learning itself. If what he's learned is useful to someone, he'll see about writing it down for them or helping them to understand it's importance as well without a thought to his own schedule, for what he's written down he reads over endlessly until it has become a part of him, of his very mind and being, so reciting them can even come from memory if he's done his due diligence.
His devotion to learning comes from the craft he chose to follow at a very young age, nothing less than perfect could ever be considered or even qualified to attempt saving the life of another in his mind. If a person were to die simply because he'd made a foolish mistake then Liaven would never forgive himself. It was true as he studied healing and it became just as true when he began to learn as a Candidate, mistakes in healing or fighting thread could mean lives, so it was best to approach them with the utmost desire to be perfect. Unfortunately, having only the basics of trauma healing before being Searched and not having had dragon to put study into practice for dragonriding tends to clash with the perfectionist deep in his soul and as a result he will over analyze everything he's been told and learned. Oh if only he could get his hands on a dragon to poke and prod and take notes on every bit of physicality! If there's something in lessons that could help him be better, if there were something that he missed, one word that might have two meanings in a different context, he'll have notes about it and try to understand it to death. It could be curiosity but generally it's simply his vacillatory way of weighing the pros and cons of every situation to the absolute extreme that makes him blunt in the ways that he handles things to the point of almost coming off as insensitive.
This is not the case though, for Liaven does care about the feelings of others, just more the physical feeling of pain. His experience helping higher ranked journeyman and masterhealers taught him to be calm and soothing around patients, to be gentle when it was needed even if he was nervous himself. People come first, their needs and their fears need to be soothed and he knows this deep down in his heart of hearts which is why he'll stuff his own fears down there if need be. However this soothing nature only extends to his bedside manner, for outside of it his bluntness tends to have him putting his foot in his own mouth more than once and generally others simply grow bored in his presence. In fact it's good that sometimes others cannot see what his expression is. Though the mask often across his face comes from turns of being ill as a child it also serves as a beacon for his own mild germaphobia that came about as a result of being sick so often. He's not so afraid of germs that he has no issues getting a job done, but others might find him washing his hands more thoroughly than any around him once he's done.
Lucky to be alive was what his mother and every healer that had worked with Liaven as a child often told him. The tiny baby born into the world only seven months after a flight that left his mother pregnant and alone with him wasn't expected to make it through even the night, but a very determined healer at Fort Hold saw him alive the next morning despite his premature birth and size. He would spend the next near decade of his life wandering around that same Hold with a mask over his face every winter and near constantly sick despite it's presence. Somehow he thrived despite that rocky start to his life and grew to have a respect bordering on utter hero worship for all the healers that he met in the halls of Fort, always telling his mother of his desire to become one himself until the day that he was finally old enough to join the Healer Hall as an apprentice. Having outgrown his constant sickness Liaven sought out the opportunity to learn how to heal people as one healer had once done with him.
Even from the first moment that he joined Liaven became an avid note taker and could be seen wandering through the halls after his lessons with a pen and paper in his hands trying to write down everything he'd learned so that he wouldn't possibly forget even the smallest of details. With his calming personality and devotion to learning he became a favorite of one master who took him under their wing with an interest in teaching him trauma healing. It was an interest he'd been curious about, but being under the wing of a master had him flourishing like he hadn't even with all his methodical attention before. For a few turns it was a wonderful environment for him to learn and grow in, to gain a wealth of knowledge that he brought with him even as his life took a different turn.
Thread had begun to fall over Pern once again, devastating it and leaving numerous dead or wounded if they were even lucky enough to survive. Healers were needed now more than ever and on every corner of Pern. When his master was given a different assignment to a hold, it left Liaven somewhat adrift with no one to learn directly under outside of his lessons, something that didn't settle well with him since it felt as if he were slacking. Time had him bumping into a Journeyman of a different craft that seemed interested in teaching him different skills in his downtime and Anuenu became his unofficial teacher/master of sorts without her really realizing it. Though their crafts were different and Liaven couldn't learn about the actual nuances of Trauma Healing from her, the Journeyman who became his friend, a rare feat, showed him every aspect of bedside manner and what she knew about caring for others, something that hadn't truly occurred to him outside of healing them and moving on. Liaven's note taking became even more pronounced in her presence, wanting to write everything she told him down and learn everything that a Journeyman could possibly give since she was so kind to give it to him.
It was a shock and surprise to him to be Searched alongside Anuenu, himself being just barely of age while she was nearing the age cap. While it took some convincing in his own mind, Liaven accepted when he realized that there was much to learn in a Weyr where injuries would be more prevalent and the odds were good that he would not impress at all so he could take what he learned back to the Hold for his attempt at Journeyman. At the very first clutch he stood the violence of it all stunned the little teenager into shocked silence for a full day afterwards even as he made himself useful helping the healers with getting supplies and watching every step of healing the wounded from claw and teeth wounds. In his mind it had only ever been threadfall that he believed would hurt anyone in a Weyr, even if his base studies had told him that the dangers were there. Every bit of paperwork that he could get his hands on, Liaven spent another few months taking notes between candidate lessons and chores until he found himself on a beach.
Unable to bring notes with him, once again(C'mon whyyyyy?), Liaven stood beside his only friend and kept his mind as open and welcoming as he could but it apparently seemed... rather boring to one particular green. So boring in fact that she popped the top off of her egg in one burst, body still restrained within and began to sing in the most horrendously off key voice as if she were attempting to serenade Liaven. It didn't take him very long to realize that the voice singing in a terrible tune was combined with a voice that kept attempting to beckon him over. Come on Liavenmine, you seem so bored with everything, how are you thinking about little papers right now?! Come and play with me and you don't have to think that hard anymore! When the boy, thunderstruck, didn't move quickly enough, Sarbath simply worked at releasing herself with a few deft kicks and bounced over to him instead, finally gaining a response with a big hug that helped mask that he was already trying to wrap his head around dragon's physical traits by running fingers over ridges and spine to locate muscles. Sarbath simply laughed and hasn't stopped.
Other: Why can't notes be taken everywhere? Do people not understand his anguish without?!
Name: Sarbath Age: 2 Color: Green Size: 53' Song:High Hopes ~ Panic! At The Disco Physical Description: Loooooong and lean, with back legs that seem to stretch out while her unfortunately short front legs seem to give her a view on the world that's tilted askew. Sarbath looks as if she were pulled from nose and tail to stretch her out and her front legs suffered the consequences for it a bit by being stubbier than the average, but this green keeps her head up all the same! As if to make up for those attributes she is incredibly flexible and that gives her some agility in the air even if she often uses it for her own purposes rather than during threadfall, something that will bring some ease to her rider. In flight she can look somewhat elegant if she stops fooling around!
Personality: Had she been born in another time and possibly impressed to a different Candidate, Sarbath might have run away to join the circus the second she could Between, and you can be certain that she would be flashy about it. With a brain that almost seems hardwired to find the fun in everything, this green all but runs through life like a wreckingball of creativity and drive, finding ways to create a good time all around herself while she does. If there exists only one way to do things then she'll throw herself at finding numerous ways to make the same result happen with as much pomp and flair as possible, what's life without a little bit of a show after all? Even if that show sometimes comes across as her being foolish and silly. Surely none will ever be bored around her, for even the smallest and most mundane of activities is undertaken with the same keenness that she focuses on everything. Life and threadfall aren't so much an obstacle or misfortune so much as a game that she enjoys playing.
While she enjoys playing the game that she believes life to be, Sarbath absolutely wants to be the best at it as well and her aspirations know as few limits as her inventive enthusiasm does. Wingsecond, Wingleader, maybe even higher? With her creative mind she can see dozens of ways to get there and they are always there in the back of her mind. That streak runs the risk of landing her in hot water however, for with that ambition comes a terrible irritation for any moving too slowly around her or attempting to hold her back, which sparks a colorful side of the green that's more negative than anything. Once pushed to the point of impatience she'll seem to devolve almost before the eyes into a foul mouthed and terribly irresponsible child if unchecked or opposed by something she deems less than worth her time. While these moments are few and far between, her words could land her in extremely hot water if he isn't tempered by her rider and any little thing she's been told will be dredged up for petty purposes of harm that she doesn't intend outside of her hot headed moments.
The issue with that information is she will always seem to find more with her obliging personality, as she wants desperately to help others and possesses the adaptable frame of character to do so. Attentive to others needs past what might seem necessary and always offering a wing or kind heart to listen, others tend to bare their souls and pasts to Sarbath and while it doesn't always come back to bite them, her lack of an ability to be discreet about things pairs horribly with her impatience. In her attempts to get back into other's good graces after opening her mouth and putting her clawed feet in there, Sarbath tends to do all that she can for them, hoping that this might bandage their relationship.
When she rises, the very act itself will be somewhat of a game for Sarbath, who will surely have no issues with dragging her many suitors through a series of acrobatic tricks that she'll use to wear them all out. With her healthy dose of stamina that's actually a possibility! While she certainly wants to be caught, any suitors will need to work their very hardest for the chance. In romance she's not quite so dramatic, though she'll want the best, Sarbath doesn't care about difference in color or rank, her hearts want what they want.
Name: Zeeva Age: 99 Nameday: 3477.6.20 Sex: Female Sexual Orientation: Draws wobbly line Weyr: Western Weyr Rider Rank: Wingrider Previous Rank/Craft: Apprentice cook Physical Description: Average of height and wiry from a lifetime in straps on the back of a giant, Zeeva hasn't yet slowed down thanks to her advancing age and certainly doesn't even look the part just yet. While her skin may not be as tight as it once was and feathery lines have appeared at the edges of her eyes and around her quiet smile, she still glows in her advancing age and doesn't shy away from anything overly physical. That was her entire life after all and muscles from such a life are ever present. Bright white has just begun to grow in from the crown of her head and her long hair still retains some of her original black at the ends, making a stark change from the deep umber of her skin.
Expression is often hard for Zeeva to show, given that she tends to be more quiet and reserved around even her friends. Still they'll see her with a smile or with no other expression at all on her face. She's been described before as classy, she tends to wave this away. Personality: Business is business with this woman, there is no fooling around when work should be done. No shirking chores, no slacking off and everything certainly better be done within the time frame that it was set for. If not she'll work double to make up for anyone slacking around her, however her sarcastic barbs will last the rest of the day. Not that she means for them to, but in moments of anger, Zeeva finds herself sliding into the old habit she had even as a young woman. Generally she's extremely professional and would much rather come off as helpful and calm than cruel thanks to her moments of sarcasm. If anyone needs someone to talk to or learn something from she's there, if they need another set of hands, she was there before they even asked, noticing things quite quickly from experience.
It may be her sarcastic tendency that makes her so reserved around others, always more willing to be quiet and calmly at the edge of conversations and discussions than right in the center. Lest she possibly say something in a moment of brief anger she didn't mean, Zeeva remains quiet and in control of herself through being so. Alcohol has been known to loosen her up just a tad, but it takes much and she's no heavy-weight with it. Another thing that may actually loosen the woman up is placing her near any sort of craft that she respects and admires. She enjoys watching Masters and Journeyman work, be it leathercrafting something for Sokinath or someone slicing up meat for a meal that knows what they're doing, Zeeva enjoys watching them, enough her heart will flutter just a bit as she does so. While she tries to play this down, sometimes those around her notice her admiration. It's at these times that she can also zone out and forget that things are happening around her, or things that need to be done, much to her dragon's amusement, so she tries her hardest to cut down on them lest she be reprimanded for slacking herself!
Despite her admiration of crafts she doesn't go and find herself the best made things by the most skilled masters. Rather Zeeva tends to be entirely practical in her day to day life and will make do with what works as well as following through with things in the most understandable and reasonable way they can be done. If a dragon needs new straps you buy the ones most available, if there's a mess, you clean it up immediately. It's the results that matter and while she can be meticulous if the situation calls for it, she looks for more realistic approaches to just about everything.
Positive Trait List Professional, Practical, Structured Negative Trait List Sarcastic, Reserved, Closet Craft Fan-girl
History:
Born to a pair of parents who bred runners in Keroon, Zeeva was a quiet and hard working girl, always ready to do what was asked of her and prone to working more than she would play even from a young age. She cared and watched after the runners as if they were siblings as well, as she had quite a few older and younger than here on both sides. It was her time working in such conditions with her family that taught her the meaning of being practical and operating within the bounds of structure and time limits to the best of her abilities. She flourished.
Around her tenth turn she chose cooking as a craft, rather entranced with how well the Master Cook in their Hold could handle great sides of herdbeast meat and quickly turn them into meat that she had grown up recognizing her whole life. Though she was small and some of the things she would need to handle were incredibly large, Zeeva's determination to learn kept others both larger and stronger on their toes. Her skill wasn't the absolute best of them all, but she at least was praised for being quite good at it, so her turns passed by smoothly with only one thing that ever interrupted her structure.
A dragon.
Great brown beast that he was with a lady rider leaned up on his leg, Zeeva met the pair when she was taking a morning run before dawn and the watchrider pair, freshly relieved, offered her an opportunity. After approaching the offer with every bit of her almost stubborn practicality, the young woman ran straight home with the news for her family and packed her bags with a few needed things before flying to her future, she hoped, astride a dragon. That first flight taught her that she would need to certainly train for it if she ever did impress, as she nearly threw up everything in her stomach upon arrival above Western Weyr from Between. But still, she was excited and determined to see what she could do.
For two turns she once again flourished, even more so with the naturally structured environment of a Weyr and though it took three turns for her to meet her dragon, Sokinath slid into her life one hot summer day, hatched from a miniscule egg that had been covered in sand, the gold had actually clawed her way to the top and sputtered in indignation. It was warm while in the shell but just terrible once freed. Zeevamine is this what the future holds? Always sand? As the gold hadn't even been looking at her when she'd spoken to her, Zeeva had naturally been thunderstruck once she realized and could only walk out to the little one and tell her it wouldn't all be bad.
Sokinath didn't stay small for long, growing quickly and she swore sometimes right in front of her eyes, the gold was hard to keep oiled the larger she got but the brighter she shone when she was. With her training as a cook, with a knife and butchery before, overcoming the gold's picky appetite was a breeze at least, for she always knew what cuts her dragon would want. It was a blessing, at least, once the great gold finally finished her growing, a giant among her clutchmates that had taken many hours to oil and feed. Unlike some of the others that took off after their training was complete, Zeeva loved the Weyr and would only leave to visit her family or when another gold was about to rise. During these times they would line up to visit her family in Keroon and take great joy in seeing the Hold once more.
Still, though she was nostalgic for the past she'd grown up with, turns and turns passed for her as a wingrider, clutches and clutches for Sokinath. Some good, some tragic, as was always possible. Unlike some others Zeeva never truly took a partner in all the turns, not because she didn't want to but because none of them ever truly made her heart flutter. She did give three children to the creche after Sokinath's flights, but while she would see them and they would exchange happiness in meeting, she was never motherly as they needed when they were small and thought it best.
It was very late in her life that Thread returned to Pern, well past 90 she didn't hesitate to fly and face it and even as she creeps toward a full century she shows no signs of slowing down. Yet. Other: Her three children are NPCs, all grown.
Name: Sokinath Age: 81 Color: Gold Size: 102' Physical Description: A giant. Between her length and height she measures up with some of the largest golds on Pern, but her body is almost emaciated looking at times. It takes a real effort to keep any sort of weight on her and with age it's become even harder. Sokinath's wings are just slightly shorter than it would seem necessary to lift her great self from the ground, but she balances with a long neck and whip-like tail. Personality: It's a very good thing that Zeeva loves structure and working so much, for Sokinath isn't at all interested in it. Her idea of a good time is to lay and talk with other dragons, sometimes gossip sometimes just daily life. But working has never factored into her desires at all. As a younger dragon she certainly would leap up when needed but as she's grown older she doesn't see the need so much.
Vain despite her rider's best attempts to teach her otherwise, the gold would rather not clutch at all if she didn't have a biological need because she loathes sand. In fact she loathes anything she doesn't find to be the best in life and will fuss to Zeeva if she doesn't get her way. Though with age came wisdom she didn't gain any real grace in that respect, but has learned not to voice her opinions or over the top demands quite as much now that Thread has returned.
Though she's not the motherly type once her children are off the sands, that cursed sand, Sokinath is almost viciously protective while they are. Either in the egg or hatched and unbonded it doesn't matter, the gold has been known to swipe and snap when necessary to keep her children safe. In fact she so rarely over the turns has even allowed the father onto the sands, considering his job to have been long over by that point, since catching was all she needed. She is enough mother to protect her kids, thank you.
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Lonely Phantom
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Lonely Phantom
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Posted: Mon Jul 06, 2020 12:24 am
Name: Verica (Goes by Veri) Age: 19 Nameday: 3557.2.17 Sex: Female Sexual Orientation: Whatever you need it to be ;D Rank: Junior Weyrling Previous Rank/Craft: Entertainer/Circus Performer/Thief/Candidate Location: High Reaches Voice:X ~ Anne/Amphibia Song:I'll Show You The Way ~ Lilly MacPhee Physical Description: Slight and short, a veritable wisp on the wind as she needs to be, Verica stands no taller than 5'3" but her big personality often fluctuates this perceived height at times with how she plays with others. Much like one would expect, she's a carbon copy of her sister, straight down to the small features of her face. All the better to deceive with really. Soft round face, big brown almond eyes and hair that she uses for her own interests, letting it hang to soften her features or braiding and twisting it intricately for more mystique. She has no skill in this, so it's dependent on her sister's willingness.
For so slight a person Verica is well muscled and developed, a life spent constantly moving has left her with little care in the way of fashion and more than a healthy dose of practicality. Something she can move in, something that will allow her to disappear into a crowd. For a show she might throw on something more extravagant but she still needs to move and dissolve. For certain uses she will mimic exactly what her sister does, an exact copy down to make up and clothing, but she's usually the one seen without sleeves.
Personality: Being as adaptable and ever changing as possible is one of the things that kept Verica and her sister alive, though thanks to Versha's intelligence they were spared more than one sleepless night of starvation. She's just along for the ride! Or so it seems, an ever morphing and developing teen that somehow manages to fit whatever shape her sister needs her to become to fit a role, Verica is there and with more than a little bit of energy to speed her along. Versha might call the shots but she's the distraction that drags her sister along, chomping at the bit of expediency to the point of nearly getting them in trouble at times. It isn't intentional but when a thought pops into her head she simply has to follow it, even if it might mire the pair in mishap. If she wants to see something closer, she'll touch it, if a person is a little too forward a fist might fly.
For the most part Verica can twist her way out of any sort of trouble that might come their way with her charm alone, and let's face it, she caused some of the trouble about forty percent of the time. A well placed compliment or hand, a gentle flirt and push towards what others might need that could get her what she wanted, these things along with her boundless charisma have shifted the call to arms against her before. And she is terribly flirty if the need calls for it. Men, women, anyone that walks on two legs above a certain age. She has standards thank you. Verica might be a bit flirty and shameless, but she does it for the good of she and Versha; if anything it's been more reward than punishment and certainly is quite a bit better than a knife to the ribs or any sort of brawl.
Sometimes life calls for a little bit of physicality but she certainly doesn't wish to take part in it and maybe that's what will give her sister more gray in her hair than Verica will ever have for many turns. Her arrogance keeps her from being the best, as she already believes that she is. Where her imagination will have her soaring and making some of the best plans, her insistence that they'll be the best and far outstrip anything her sister might develop will one day be her downfall. For both of them can scheme, come up with many ways to do things but she'll tell the world that she's the best at it and fools fall that don't listen. Or so she believes.
Quite often It's Versha's plans that they follow through with and that's just fine with her. Whatever her sister needs her to be, she loves her sister more than she loves life itself and would move the mountains of Pern to keep her safe and happy if she has to. While currently her sister may be the only one that Verica can say that about, there is room in her heart of hearts for more that she would willingly shake the earth for, she just hasn't met anyone in her life of travel that would give her a reason to be devoted to their life over her own.
Positive Trait List Adaptable, Charismatic, Energetic, Devoted Negative Trait List Arrogant, Impulsive, Machiavellian, Flirtatious
History:
First in line and don't you forget it, Verica was born just minutes before her sister but as she doesn't have the brains her younger twin does, she generally became a bit of a follower. Always ready to get starry eyed at her sister's plans and wisdom, though continuously managing to throw all of it to the winds on a ludicrous impulse. Their mother was a performer with a High Wire act, running all about Pern with a circus full of faces that rarely changed but were always willing to spoil two little girls, especially after their mother passed away. She had been everything to Verica for the short turns she got to have her but the other performers that had known her mother took she and her sister in with open arms. Nicknamed "Puffball" for being the 'softer of the two' despite this being incorrect, the girl learned all she could from them, especially when it came to anything thievish or underhanded. Sleight of hand, dancing, acrobatic tricks, how to charm people, and acrobatics galore, she was quite the performer herself before she was ever a teenager.
Working together with her sister once she was old enough, the two put on shows and magic tricks, always making certain to copy her sister's wardrobe for illusions. After so many turns working them out and with Versha's ideas, the two were quite good and drew large crowds, but Thread had a different destiny for the pair of sisters when it fell over one of their performances the first day. Family, friends, people who had innocently come to see acts performed, all cut down by Thread and those that survived were scarred physically and emotionally. Somehow, luckily or unluckily, Verica and her sister survived with only emotional scars to show for it and she was tugged along by her sister with the few possessions that they had. Traveling light was the most important thing when fleeing Threadfall.
Life wasn't terrible, though she deeply missed those that had been lost, as long as it was she and her sister, they could survive without too much of a struggle. If money was short, she had the wiles to still land them a room at an inn depending on the Hold or the sticky fingers to somehow come up with marks that they hadn't had before. Was everything she did legal? Not even close, but they survived and that was all that she wanted, for the two of them to survive against the odds the world seemed content to toss at them. While there were necessities and food that came with a price there always seemed to be some way to afford them all but as their travels took them to places that Verica had never seen before, recognizing almost instantly that her sister was branching out, their motto became "leave no trace" and so they were ghosts, only performing in new areas and never giving out a name unless necessary.
Once more life changed when a white dragon and their rider appeared, inviting not one but both the sisters to come to High Reaches as Candidates. While she was filled with excitement Verica could tell that Versha was not, it had never factored into their life that they might ever stand to try and Impress a dragon, but it meant not having to perform for marks and food anymore, to have a stable place to live. How could either turn that down?
Training turned out to be more lessons and cleaning than what she expected, but given she had learned quite a bit early on in life from the performers that raised her, none of it was truly hard. She was enamored with the dragons, gem colored flying creatures that seemed regal, if some of the 'lower ranked' colors and their riders were looked down on by the shining metallic dragons from the interactions she picked up. Whites by far seemed the most appealing, but it was that color dragon she'd met first in life and they were cute and small. So to stay near where she could see them for a few months, Verica trained and basked in the opportunity to eat regularly and sleep in the same bed every night again. It was odd not moving around, but she knew they could adapt to anything as long as she had her sister.
And adapt she did! Oh Kourith, the only dragon in the world that has ever mattered to her, every other she saw in the world previous to him had simply been interesting to look at. No they never held her attention for long until his rainbow eyes looked at her and he began nudging her along onto the first leg of their adventure! It was the hardest thing in the world to impress knowing that her twin hadn't, but that just meant they both gained a dragon, and what a dragon too! Perfectionist in every way, Kourith's confidence gave her quite the boost and Veri refuses to ever look back.
Name: Kourith Age: 1 Color: Blue Size: 59' Voice:X Tuffnut/How To Train Your Dragon 3 Song:Rush ~ Cowboy Bebop OST Physical Description: Kourith is just edging near the larger end of the spectrum for a blue. His neck and tail are quite thick and muscular, and he definitely will never be prone to becoming soft and fat. Athletic, it shows in his build--even as a hatchling. He's heavy due to his strength, but surprisingly swift while on wing. Somehow the blue, despite his athletic build, has the softest colors that hedge him a bit close to a soft lilac tinged blue with his dapples and intricate wings. Of course he knows he is and with his uncompromising perfection of self, he shows the Weyr and indeed all of Pern what he's made of as often as he can. Personality: Watch out world, Kourith is here, and he won't let you forget it. Have you ever seen Pern's most perfect blue? Well, you have now! From the moment he hatched, he was ready to go, chomping at the bit to show that he's everything Pern could want, and more. He's an athletic creature, pushing himself so he (and his rider) might be in peak form. If they're going to be Threadfighters, than they had certainly better ensure they're in the best shape of their lives. This blue will excel during the physical parts of weyrling training and beyond; he won't ever need to be goaded into some game or competition, and while he'll always enjoy running, he'll absolutely adore being able to fly. Once he can take to the skies, his rider will find it more of a challenge to get him to come down--and you can bet he'll be trying to race all of his clutchmates and wingmates, and master the most complicated aerobatics he can muster.
But it's not just physical activities that Kourith excels at, oh no--in fact, this dragon has a dream of succeeding in everything he does. He wasn't here to come in second, and has expectations of himself--and others. He wants things done and done right. He'd prefer if he did everything perfectly the first time, but should he find need to try again, you can bet this blue won't stop until he's succeeded. When it comes to drills, he will keep going until he's certain he has mastered some formation. He's going to be a champion, and that means taking great care that what he puts his mind to. On the one hand, this means if you give Kourith a task, he will ensure that it's done right--on the other hand, this means he can get a bit demanding on how it should be done, especially if he's going to have to work with others. Rest assured, he knows how to tell others how they should be doing things, and won't hesitate poking his blue snout in others business.
Honestly, if something is meant to be done and meant to be done right, Kourith will make sure he's involved whether he's been invited or not. When working with others, he can be quite demanding of his clutchmates. They should follow his rules, and do it his way (nevermind that their way might work just as well.) His desire for excellency in himself, his rider, and the work they do means that he'll push and prod and order and try to get others do things as he sees fit, which is (as far as he's concerned) the right way. The only way. This can, of course, get taxing or cause problems since Kourith absolutely cannot abide less-than-perfect outcomes--and certain personalities and dragon colors won't take being bossed by a blue. Worse, Kourith doesn't really keep others feelings into the equation. He can easily tear down others ideas, or point out their short-comings and flaws, without nary a second thought. Naturally, he doesn't see this as a problem--perfection isn't easy to obtain, after all--but his rider might well need to try to keep him in line. Just because others do things differently than Kourith doesn't mean that it's wrong--additionally, just because something isn't perfect doesn't mean it's not good enough.
Kourith is a passionate creature, and doesn't do things halfway. This blue puts his all into everything he does, and is often dominated by whatever he's feeling at that time. When he's set on a task, you can bet he'll throw every ounce of energy and feeling into accomplishing a goal; whatever he's feeling, he often wants those near him to feel, too. This dragon comes off strong in just about every situation--he's not particularly mild-mannered, and instead will make sure those around him know what he's feeling. As he ages, his passion for things will turn into a passion for others. Any mates or lovers he takes on will find a blue who will give them the moon and stars if they ask--and any rivals will feel the brunt of his wrath and jealousy should they somehow get what he ached for.
Kourith's passionate nature will turn him into a bit of a rakish beast as well as he ages. Where he might find himself enthralled with a number of friends as a hatchling, as he matures, he'll find himself with lovers aplenty. It isn't that he can't settle, but Kourith is the sort of dragon whose passions can't entirely be contained. He will break hearts. He will jump from one interest to the next, and worse, hardly realize their pain. His passion, desire for perfection, and demanding nature can easily cause him to be careless with the hearts and feelings of others--and not just in romantic scenarios, but all cases. Kourith just doesn't always think of others feelings as he should--but as he'll remind those who turn grey eyes upon him, perfect isn't easy.
As far as Kourith is concerned, he and his rider alone are practically perfect in every way. Faranth help them both.
Blue Kourith Written by Uta Colored by Meepfur
Origin of Name: As the Thoroughbred is known for being used in a horse racing, it was thought his name should be influenced by the act of running. Kourith gets his name from the Haitian Creole word for run, which is kouri.
Inspiration: Thoroughbred
The Thoroughbred is a horse breed best known for its use in horse racing. Although the word thoroughbred is sometimes used to refer to any breed of purebred horse, it technically refers only to the Thoroughbred breed. Thoroughbreds are considered "hot-blooded" horses that are known for their agility, speed, and spirit.
The Thoroughbred as it is known today was developed in 17th- and 18th-century England, when native mares were crossbred with imported Oriental stallions of Arabian, Barb, and Turkoman breeding. All modern Thoroughbreds can trace their pedigrees to three stallions originally imported into England in the 17th and 18th centuries, and to a larger number of foundation mares of mostly English breeding.
Thoroughbreds are used mainly for racing, but are also bred for other riding disciplines such as show jumping, combined training, dressage, polo, and fox hunting. They are also commonly crossbred to create new breeds or to improve existing ones, and have been influential in the creation of the Quarter Horse, Standardbred, Anglo-Arabian, and various warmblood breeds.
The Thoroughbred is a distinct breed of horse, although people sometimes refer to a purebred horse of any breed as a thoroughbred. The term for any horse or other animal derived from a single breed line is purebred. While the term probably came into general use because the English Thoroughbred's General Stud Book was one of the first breed registries created, in modern usage horse breeders consider it incorrect to refer to any animal as a thoroughbred except for horses belonging to the Thoroughbred breed.
Personality: Watch out world, Kourith is here, and he won't let you forget it. Have you ever seen Pern's most perfect blue? Well, you have now! From the moment he hatched, he was ready to go, chomping at the bit to show that he's everything Pern could want, and more. He's an athletic creature, pushing himself so he (and his rider) might be in peak form. If they're going to be Threadfighters, than they had certainly better ensure they're in the best shape of their lives. This blue will excel during the physical parts of weyrling training and beyond; he won't ever need to be goaded into some game or competition, and while he'll always enjoy running, he'll absolutely adore being able to fly. Once he can take to the skies, his rider will find it more of a challenge to get him to come down--and you can bet he'll be trying to race all of his clutchmates and wingmates, and master the most complicated aerobatics he can muster.
But it's not just physical activities that Kourith excels at, oh no--in fact, this dragon has a dream of succeeding in everything he does. He wasn't here to come in second, and has expectations of himself--and others. He wants things done and done right. He'd prefer if he did everything perfectly the first time, but should he find need to try again, you can bet this blue won't stop until he's succeeded. When it comes to drills, he will keep going until he's certain he has mastered some formation. He's going to be a champion, and that means taking great care that what he puts his mind to. On the one hand, this means if you give Kourith a task, he will ensure that it's done right--on the other hand, this means he can get a bit demanding on how it should be done, especially if he's going to have to work with others. Rest assured, he knows how to tell others how they should be doing things, and won't hesitate poking his blue snout in others business.
Honestly, if something is meant to be done and meant to be done right, Kourith will make sure he's involved whether he's been invited or not. When working with others, he can be quite demanding of his clutchmates. They should follow his rules, and do it his way (nevermind that their way might work just as well.) His desire for excellency in himself, his rider, and the work they do means that he'll push and prod and order and try to get others do things as he sees fit, which is (as far as he's concerned) the right way. The only way. This can, of course, get taxing or cause problems since Kourith absolutely cannot abide less-than-perfect outcomes--and certain personalities and dragon colors won't take being bossed by a blue. Worse, Kourith doesn't really keep others feelings into the equation. He can easily tear down others ideas, or point out their short-comings and flaws, without nary a second thought. Naturally, he doesn't see this as a problem--perfection isn't easy to obtain, after all--but his rider might well need to try to keep him in line. Just because others do things differently than Kourith doesn't mean that it's wrong--additionally, just because something isn't perfect doesn't mean it's not good enough.
Kourith is a passionate creature, and doesn't do things halfway. This blue puts his all into everything he does, and is often dominated by whatever he's feeling at that time. When he's set on a task, you can bet he'll throw every ounce of energy and feeling into accomplishing a goal; whatever he's feeling, he often wants those near him to feel, too. This dragon comes off strong in just about every situation--he's not particularly mild-mannered, and instead will make sure those around him know what he's feeling. As he ages, his passion for things will turn into a passion for others. Any mates or lovers he takes on will find a blue who will give them the moon and stars if they ask--and any rivals will feel the brunt of his wrath and jealousy should they somehow get what he ached for.
Kourith's passionate nature will turn him into a bit of a rakish beast as well as he ages. Where he might find himself enthralled with a number of friends as a hatchling, as he matures, he'll find himself with lovers aplenty. It isn't that he can't settle, but Kourith is the sort of dragon whose passions can't entirely be contained. He will break hearts. He will jump from one interest to the next, and worse, hardly realize their pain. His passion, desire for perfection, and demanding nature can easily cause him to be careless with the hearts and feelings of others--and not just in romantic scenarios, but all cases. Kourith just doesn't always think of others feelings as he should--but as he'll remind those who turn grey eyes upon him, perfect isn't easy.
As far as Kourith is concerned, he and his rider alone are practically perfect in every way. Faranth help them both.
Red & Green Striped Paper Egg: A small egg that's cool to the touch.
Adult Size: 59' Physical Attributes: Kourith is just edging near the larger end of the spectrum for a blue. His neck and tail are quite thick and muscular, and he definitely will never be prone to becoming soft and fat. Athletic, it shows in his build--even as a hatchling. He's heavy due to his strength, but surprisingly swift while on wing.
Additional Notes: Kourith will love flights. He's the sort of blue who is chomping at the bit to get up there and show off. He expects he'll fly circles around his competition, but the trick will be reminding him that there's more to flights than speed. Wooing greens is another matter entirely!
His flirty nature means he's open to either sex keeping him company. Whether or not he'll ever fall in love or find a one-and-only is the real mystery--and even then, it's unknown if he'll stop his chasing should he find someone as a long-term-mate! You can't keep this blue out of the skies, or out of the race.
Impression Effect: If Versha and Verica were identical, they are no longer. Physically they might look the same, but Verica now has a glow about her that sets her apart and draws the eye. There's a beauty anew about her, a radiant glow from Impression--and it clearly shows. No longer will they be able to pass off as one another, for Verica now possess a confidence renewed.
Kourith chose Verica because in her, and only in her, he saw perfection. To start, her arrogance and belief in herself matched well with his desire for success. She might think she's the best--but Kourith will make sure that the world sees them as the true champions they are. This blue will ensure that Verica's money is where her mouth is; she will get to prove that she is as good as she thinks she is--and all the work that comes with it.
He's a passionate and atheltic creature, and she's energetic and once an acrobat. She will be able to keep up with him, both physically and mentally, and he'll give her a new lease on life. No longer will she be landbound--but this blue will open up the world, and give her the sky. As he grows, her flirtatious nature will go hand-in-hand with his own rakish behavior. Together they well might leave a trail of broken-hearts.
Kourith will temper her impulsive nature. He will help keep her focused and grounded, since much of weyrling training and dragonriding requires executing drills and maneuvers only just so. While being impulsive has its moments--particularly when things don't go according to plan--other times require plans to be executed with precision and care. Additionally, Kourith is a blue who will grant her all the security and comfort that she needs. He will grant her opportunities she once lacked, and instead of simply being in the shadow of her twin, will now be given a chance to lead a life in a different direction should she wish. She isn't simply the second twin, nor need they follow Versha's lead--she has her own life now, to direct as she sees fit.
On the flipside, Verica is far more adaptable to change than Kourith is--where he will obsess with perfection and mastering skills or drills, she might help this blue learn to roll with situations and scenarios outside of their control. He will not master everything, despite his best-efforts; things will go wrong that he hadn't planned for, and he won't be able to make them right or fix them. Her experience in these matters will at least help soften his ridged outlook. Additionally, her natural charm is something Kourith lacks. His passions do him no good when he's driving away allies or future friends and loves--and his outspoken nature often means that he'll be neck-deep in trouble once he starts to explain how a brown, bronze, or queen is wrong. While he understands the rules of High Reaches, he will never understand why others don't see him and Verica as the stars they truly are.
They were meant to shine, and Kourith's passions mean he will sacrifice everything to get Verica what she wants. If comfort and security aren't enough, he'll do whatever he must to give her the world.
ocelotocelotocelotocelot ▊▊Art °
Braid hair avi~
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Touching
Verica's Point of View
Quote:
Snowflake Egg
TWO in a row?? The Snowflake Egg was having the time of its life. I WASN'T BUT NOW I AM. Hello, hello, hello! Are you having fun?? It was having fun. It was having so much fun. So much fun, in fact, that it began to wobble slightly in place.
Quote:
Holly Egg The little egg was already excited and thrilled by those who had visited, and Verica would feel herself washed with pure adrenaline and joy. This was so exciting!! Yet another one to touch its egg! Joy of joys, this little egg was literally vibrating underneath her touch. It and its clutchmates will be amazing because of all the amazing Candidates they get to meet!! Candidates just like Verica!
Quote:
Sinrunth The dark, grizzled bronze would slowly turn his regard to Aresoth. His eyes sparked red, and his curved lip would show a few of his long teeth. Still, the large bronze would give a snort before responding to the clutch father. What did the foolish bronze think he was doing? Honestly--it took him all of his willpower not to make a biting response.
Instead, he turned to force his will upon all the Candidates.
Candidates! Step away from the eggs and return to the Barracks immediately.His words were not to be questioned, and if they knew what was good for them, they would not think twice about arguing.
F'dral was staring directly at the group near Lump of Coal Egg and Ding Dong Egg before turning to arch a brow at Starry Night Egg It appeared as if some among them hadn't taken heed of his advice. Where Gr'del might well have removed Candidates from the Touching or pushed them to the sidelines, F'dral was not that sort. "You heard Sinrunth. Move." Looking to Alumet and C'ryn, he offered the smallest tilt of his head. "I think that's well enough for one afternoon. The Candidates have been here long enough." He wasn't going to put further stress on the clutch--tantrums were expected, of course, but he wasn't here to exacerbate the situation. Zenobiath and Aresoth could care for the eggs, and F'dral would deal with the Candidates.
Honestly, the man would need consider if Touchings were necessary at all going forward--for all the trouble they seem to cause. At least one Candidate would be paid a visit--but if any of them expected another Touching before the Hatching, they would all be sadly mistaken. Sinrunth would inform him of those who were in need of reevaluation--but he wasn't here to give them second chances.
Quote:
Verica
With the wave of pure joy and adrenaline that was flushed over her, Veri couldn't keep the smile off of her face or the little wiggle she had in response to the egg's own vibrating. While she could feel the anger and less than friendly feelings all around, the egg stayed a glowing beacon to her of happiness and joy and that was what she needed. I'm so thrilled to meet you too! I'm sure you can tell just how thrilled since you can sense it all. When the time comes for you to hatch you're gonna be the most wonderful of all to watch. Her hand brushed across it's shell and she held onto the joy and excitement as she finally took her hand off and looked around.
It didn't look good all around them, there was a rattling egg on the sands, an upset mother glaring at another candidate, the Master's dragon was... well no one seemed happy other than the few candidates touching good eggs. Poor little Snowflake seemed overwhelmed! Her heart went out to it but she did as she was bid by the Candidatemaster's dragon. While she wished she had met more eggs, the two she had met had been perfect.
Still, after years of being on the road and having to survive with her sister, Veri knew exactly when it was time to go and it was time to GO. While she waited until Vera was finished up communicating with Holly, the sweet babe, she grabbed her sister's hand the moment it was removed and booked from the sands to the barracks. Better safe there to talk about their experiences with each egg than to stay on the sands where trouble was afoot!
Kourith's Point of View
Quote:
Red and Green Striped Paper Egg If you're going to touch an egg than touch an egg right! There was a deep sense of exasperation within the egg and poor Dorok would find himself in the midst of a checklist of demands. Keep stroking--what is this two-stroke and stop movement? If this is how the day is going to go, then no, it isn't a lucky day in the least. I am here to be touched, and to be touched I plan to be!
Quote:
Red & Green Striped Paper The egg was immediate in its response. It would be cozier if you would tuck some more sand up against the side of its shell. The Candidates walking past have disturbed its wallow and that is too unfortunate! Go on now. Dig up the sand and tuck this egg back in like it demands. About three inches now, and only on the right side. Well whatever are you waiting for? The exasperation that Dorok had been given was now being dumped entirely onto poor Rahmsii.
Quote:
Red & Green Striped Paper Egg In response to Alisaide's compliment, the egg practically seems to vibrate with pleasure, any exasperation from earlier swiftly evaporating. Oh, ho, compliments always went over well--at least for this egg. Really now, Alisaide could go on, couldn't they? ... no, really. Go on, keep the compliments rolling. Only the best for the best egg on the Sands, after all. And if you could move just to the right, and stroke the top of its shell, that would be perfect.
Quote:
Red & Green Paper Egg The day would be much more great if the Candidates could touch an egg right. Still, this egg is well aware that Divisti complimented it--meeting this egg should be a fabulous moment in this girl's life. Remember it well and feel free to return once you learn how to properly touch an egg.
Quote:
Green & Red Striped Paper Egg Nalacko would find nothing short of a demand. If you're going to touch this egg, then you had better do so right. Put some motion into it--it's called a touching, and this egg would much prefer if you touched it how it saw fit! Trust this egg, it knows what it's doing, and what feels best when touching eggs.
Quote:
Red & Green Striped Paper Egg ....the Candidate did as the egg had bade.
It was a surprise, but the egg couldn't keep itself from being pleased. In fact, Rahmsii would find pleasure and some contentment radiating from the newly-secured egg. This was a bit more like it, yes, this was much better. Good show, young man. Good show indeed.
Impression
Quote:
Oh wow! What a commotion!
Red & Green Striped Paper suddenly shook as two eggs collided and hatched right next to it! With a sudden shrug, the egg wibbled, wobbled, and finally began to crack! A voice within it could be clearly heard, somewhat irate, and full of judgement. Excuse you! You're doing it wrong! All wrong! You're supposed to hatch, not crash! Honestly. Like this!! Watch a pro!
And the being inside could clearly be seen working at the edges of its shell, rocking back and forth, attempting to hatch as an egg well should!
Quote:
The Red & Green Striped Paper Egg continued to wriggle, until finally, a head popped out of the top. With a shrug of his wings, he pushed aside the rest of his egg and trotted forward like the magnificent beast he was!
Now that's how you do it! Trotting around, he ignored the commotion of his siblings.
Honestly, this was a hatching?
Hey! Hey you! His gaze fell upon the quivering and petrified blue that was near Zenobiath. Just what do you think you're doing? That's not how you're going to Impress! Honestly, what are you doing over there--get out here! Come on now. Be quick about it or you'll never find yours! He trotted over to Snowman Blue, and began to nudge his hindquarters and tail with his nose.
The little Snowman gave a little creel--but quickly relented to the ministrations. I'm s-sorry!! So sorry! Wherever you want me, I'll go! The little blue was torn on what to do but he knew he couldn't stay with Zenobiath and someone else now wanted him to move along.
But there were bronzes out there and--
I said hop to it!! Come on! Like this! And with a firm nudge, he pushed his little brother away from Zenobiath and front-and-center to the Candidates. He wasn't trying to be overly aggressive, but he certainly had a know-it-all attitude and fully intended to bully his brother into being more than a wet blanket.
Hey! Watch it now! He snapped at his brothers tail, even as the little blue Snowman stumbled directly into the Candy Cane Egg. Can't you do anything right? Come on now! Left foot, right foot, left foot, right foot...
Quote:
Verica
At least that little feisty blue that wanted blood upon hatching was all up and impressed. Veri could breathe just a little bit easier she found, with it about to move off the sands with it's boy. Now that she thought about it, all the dragons had impressed to men so far. Not a girl or woman among them had found their match, though they had found claws. -This is a rather male loving set of hatchlings. I hope some girls get some love soon too.- she signaled to Vera with her hands, one eyebrow lifting as her smile turned wry.
Were there no girls out there that were worthy of these dragons? Seeing snowflake hatch as a pretty green girl had her giggle and try not to wiggle in place. Sure, there wasn't a gold but all the dragons were pretty and Veri wasn't really interested in a shining hide so much as personality. Or at least insomuch as she could just meet a dragon that would want her. But the new bronze that hatched wouldn't want her, she knew that much. So she focused on the others, the scared or sad, she couldn't tell really, the blue that had come along to rush him, the greens, the browns. Life's adventure was waiting for them!
Quote:
With all eyes on the bronze, a little blue was being marshaled by blue Red & Green Paper over to the Candidates. See any of them there that you like? Any of them in that line?] It might have been a line for the bronze, but Blue Ornament Blue had no objections taking a look.
Unfortunately for him, his more petrified blue brother stopped right in his tracks.
Do we... Do we have to look? They're not Mine. Surely they're not mine. They were his bronze brothers boys---which meant he would have no choice but look at those who remained. There were so many hopeful girls, and yet... would no one want to look at him?
All the boys wanted a bronze.
He knew it.
He was doomed.
Wings drooping, the blue melted into a little heap. Go find Yours, brother. I'll... I'll wait.
Blue Ornament gave an impatient sight. Honestly. If you wanted something done you had to do it yourself. Still, if his brother absolutely must brood, than so be it. It's really not that hard. Just...watch and I'll show you how it's done!
Quote:
Versha - HR
Vera snorted softly in amusement at her sister's silent comment, but she had to agree. So far it was all boys that had Impressed. Not to worry, though. There were still a fair number of dragons left that could Impress girls and she wasn't terribly worried about it. One egg was still left to hatch, too, and some of the dragons weren't even investigating anyone yet.
Patience. They'll come.
She kept her eyes before her to stay alert, but did wink one eye, positive her twin would notice.
Quote:
Verica
Just that wink her sister gave her was enough to have her chuckle gently and elbow Vera in the arm. They would definitely come, eventually. Maybe. She wasn't in a rush to impress either, she wanted to see all these candidates and knew full well that it might be turns before she did so. As long as she had her sister the entire weyr could kick women out and she would just shrug.
Veri had skills.
Quote:
The Red & Striped Paper Egg was a blue who was on a mission. Honestly, he couldn't believe his brother didn't seem to understand the most basic things--like how to Impress, and how to do it right.
One couldn't just sit there and hope that Theirs would notice them. One had to do it right. The only way to get what you want is to do it yourself, isn't that right, Verica? The blue dragon pushed his way past the a small gathering of Candidates, and came to stand directly before His.
Confidence, pride, love--it all would well up inside her, and wash over her. You don't have to wait Turns now that your Kourith is here! Come along now, darling--we musn't dally. There are things to do, and I don't wish to wait. Come, come, I must insist! And much like he had attempted to marshal his brother, he now scooted around behind her, so to give her a little nudge.
Her sister could--no would--wait. Verica was His now, and this little blue had plans.
Quote:
Versha - HR
Vera watched one of the greens meander off to the healers area but turned back to the main circle of eggs and dragons, not bothering with the little one that had left the area. This was only their first go-round of hatchings and touchings and standings, so she figured there wouldn't be a dragon for them this time. She knew that wasn't always the case, of course. The lessons they'd been in had made it very clear that a dragon could pick the greenest Candidate without a care. They would all learn and grow together. Vera wouldn't mind a bit more training under her belt since she hadn't grown up in this life style, but if she or Veri did manage to catch the attention of a dragon today, it was certainly going to shake things up.
And, as if on cue, one of those dragons marched right over to Veri. Vera's hand lifted to cover her mouth to hide the grin that was suddenly splitting her face and she turned her gaze fully to her twin, eager to see the Impression take place.
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Verica ~ Kourith's comin THROUGH here Impression
Having been holding in a sigh about yet another man impressing, though to a very cute green that was so small she was just...
Distracted. Or maybe not distracted, her looking at the green and the man she impressed was a distraction from the dragon that TRULY mattered. Thank you.
The only way to get what you want is to do it yourself, isn't that right, Verica? Suddenly she was being nudged and pushed at while her heart became not one but three beating all at once, full of love and a confidence that she'd already had in herself but suddenly was amplified past any she'd had in the past. Oh she could take on the very stars themselves, fight thread all alone, run into the night and never stop as long as this blue was by her side willing to go the distance with her. And he was, and they would. Kourith was so certain of it in his mind that she hadn't even heard his name before she knew it and everything about him.
You don't have to wait Turns now that your Kourith is here! Come along now, darling--we musn't dally. There are things to do, and I don't wish to wait. Come, come, I must insist! Nudge, nudge, nudge. He wanted food and to size up his siblings and he just couldn't sit and wait any longer and neither should she. Oh she was taking so long to move, had he stuttered the least bit?
"Wh.. I... Oh look here you pushy little love." Verica reached down and grabbed him by one delicate headknob, pulling him just a bit so that he was facing both she and Versha with a laugh exploding from her. "Sorry Vera, Kourith's in a bit of a rush. He needs food but I think he wants to see what his competition is." A wink for her sister came. There would be all the time in the world for them to sit and assess what had just happened for the two of them. But Kourith already knew and had pulled his headknob from her hand to stomp a dark little foot. Come along now. You and your sister will have time, you've had turns. We don't have that long to wait and I'm hungry. This was unacceptable to him, to her Veri suddenly realized.
Casting another wink to her sister and flashing her hands in apology for her blue's demands, that Vera couldn't hear given he was being picky with his affection at the moment, she reached down to hoist him up and was met with another huff. "Oh well if you don't want that how about a race then!" Veri wasn't the least bit offended by knowing exactly what her dragon was thinking before hie voiced or showed it and she took off around the outer edge of the sands, far away from any baby that might be spookable. Brother's not that weak, he's just uncertain. He needs to find his and everything will be better. Of course if he was faster and more precise about it then he wouldn't be in this predicament.
They slowed down just a bit as they came closer and Kourith hopped to a halt that had Veri tumbling, somehow gracefully? and back to her feet with her own hop. "Well that was quite fun! You're already a hoot Kourith, I can't wait to fly with you." Bright flashes of purple ran through her blue's eyes as he smartly set himself down at the tables and awaited his food. Oh the sky will be all ours.
Posted: Mon Jul 06, 2020 12:26 am
Name: Miela Age: 15 Nameday: 3561.11.29 Sex: Female Sexual Orientation: PFFFFF Craft: N/A Rank: Candidate Location: High Reaches Weyr Voice:X ~ Ginger Foutley/As Told by Ginger Song:I Want it All ~ Queen Physical Description: A living cloud that managed to fall down to earth, Miela is round and soft, with giant hazel eyes and a face prone to smiling. Maybe just for added softness or because her mother enjoyed seeing her soft curls that way, her light brown hair is somehow tamed into pigtails that look ready to fly away on either side of her head should gravity fail.
Despite her soft appearance she's not prone to wearing anything befitting a feast or event very often outside of those occurrences, they just get in the way and she's small enough that she needs room to move and function. Especially now as a Candidate.
Though not Miela's favorite thing, her numerous terrible scars are by far her most striking feature on her otherwise soft form and make those unused to dragon related scarring uncomfortable. Caused at her first Hatching they cover nearly all of her face and part of her right shoulder and chest, her right eye completely gone and either covered with an eyepatch or replaced with a glass eye. She's begun to lose some of the weight that made her so soft in appearance and her appearance sometimes leans towards unkempt as she struggles with caring about things. Personality: Cute and soft hide the shade inside that bubbles out despite her best attempts to always keep it hidden within. As she grows and learns even more she'll be a bit better at hiding the darkness on the inside, or it will all come back around to bite her in the butt, however she's got the ambition and the drive to reach for her goals despite having hiccups in her younger years. Miela didn't just let her mother do every single thing for her, no she wanted to learn and wanted to experience it all so she could say that she had been there, come from the ground up. Did she like it? Oh not at all, but her manipulations only go so far and she could never do that to her beloved mother, the only person on all Pern she would move mountains for. Anyone else she'll use all her adorable softness and perceived innocence to wrap around her little fingers for her uses.
Of course she has to be smart enough to pull it off which shouldn't be too much of a problem, she soaks up everything around her like a sponge after all. All the lessons, everything that she sees is cataloged and saved for a later date and you can believe that she'll bring it back up. The only thing that might save others is that she can be totally unobservant when the moment strikes, missing obvious cues and markers so that she has to scramble all the faster to make up for it, thereby missing things around her even more. Usually it's the physical things that she misses, others slipping by her, a wall that she'll walk into if she's talking animatedly to someone, but Miela will try to play it off as if it never happened. Just pick herself up, brush herself off and move on with her day, if someone should dare to ask or bring it up she'll just look at them with giant eyes and ask what they're talking about.
Yes of course she's a little eccentric but Miela doesn't seem to mind being that way at all, or doesn't notice that she is in the least. For she's always been just a touch odd, always a little more kooky than sane. Her laugh is prone to being a touch hysteric and she'll often mutter to herself about plans and dreams, especially ones that she should maybe just write down for the good of her own self-interests. But she doesn't care. Miela has dreams of the top, which of course means that she'll end up at the bottom but she can certainly dream as big and as wild as possible, she has the competence with menial work and studies alike to pull it off if she can keep her drive all her life.
Her dreams of being at the top have begun to dissipate a bit in the face of repercussions for her thoughts and she's become a fearful small thing. All it takes is two people whispering near one another or the hard look of a dragon to send her scampering away while her mind whirls, believing them to be talking about 'that' and while she's been seeing some mindhealers she's become somewhat restrained, prone to smiling less and watching more for signs of violence in others. She does not like others being near her or touching her, which has left her a bit touch starved and she walks on eggshells around everyone.
Positive Trait List Intelligent, Competent, Ambitious Negative Trait List Manipulative, Eccentric, Unobservant, Fearful
History:
Only daughter to a mother that Miela is quite possessive of and a father that she does adore, but endlessly reminds of his infidelity, her duty as a daughter after all, she grew up being loved dearly and it shows. She loves herself just as much as anyone else, sometimes more, but loves her mother even more. So help anyone that casts a bad look or says an errant word about her mother, the little puff of a girl will do her best to end them, strategically. From a young age she took up any task that was handed to her with a resolute drive, wanting to experience everything that she could so she could learn and do it better than anyone. So that she could advance and never do it again was the goal, but it was the learning in life that was what mattered. Thanks to her competence with most things she has much to fall back on, should she not Impress as she desires though she hopes it won't come to that.
That's not to say that she didn't play, for as a weyrbrat among others in High Reaches she found many children her age to play with and use for... things. With her mother as a creche worker it was all the better, more kids for her to meet and enjoy their company, scheming in the background to see how knowing them might play out to her advantage in the future under the guise of being a sweetheart to all. It wasn't necessarily a question when she was given the option to stand, she has dreams of being a dragon rider and aspirations that only being a rider could help her achieve. All the luckier for her that she was born in High Reaches.
Though she's only just started her lessons and training as a Candidate, her ability to learn quickly and drive to do well have been coming in handy.
Only not everything can prepare one to meet a dragon that just downright does not enjoy their presence. Not only did she manage to find one and then a second, but the first she so grievously insulted in her search for the power she believed a dragon might bring her that it came back to haunt her during the hatching that followed. While she'd succeeded in making something akin to... friends... Miela found that they came to her side during the Hatching while she herself was getting sicker and sicker to her stomach watching the particular egg rock and crack. It proved to be the downfall of all that it hatched and full on rushed straight towards her, mauling any in it's way and savaging her until her face became a mask of scars, her right eye completely gone.
The dragon had told her that she wasn't worthy, and not just that one dragon. Many had after her slip up at the touching and then her mauling at the hatching. Unworthy and that she wouldn't impress. She had no course of action but to believe they were correct.
Her blood on the sands, no real protection, for how could they in the face of a monster, Miela's fears appeared that day and she's lived with them ever since, ducking out of the way of blue dragons. Always seeing eyes the color of blood when her eyes closed or when she slept from that day forward. Blue dragons now haunt her and she cannot bring herself to get close to one without weeping tears of shame and fear... and hatred.
Since recovering from having her physical appearance altered and the skillful work that kept her from being completely unrecognizable, let alone dead, Miela's begun to volunteer on her free days in the Healer's Ward of High Reaches. In her mind it's a way to give back for the help that she received when she needed it the most and her correspondences with the man that saved her have the young girl wondering what it might be like to have a 'passion' that might draw her into something. Though she still has aspirations she was 'taught' at the claws of a dragon that they're bad aspirations and the whispers around her have made her consider looking elsewhere while she can.
Name: Invidiath Age: Newborn Color: Green Size: 37' Voice:X ~ Garnet/Steven Universe Song:Hit 'em Up Style ~ Blu Cantrell Physical Description: A small yet solidly built green, Invidiath is nevertheless a beauty. She is fully aware of this fact, and makes use of her flashy wings with their mesmerizing circles to catch the eyes of others in a Flight. Though she may be the smallest from her clutch, the little green's stripes that start at her headknobs and line down her spine to her tail tips can make her seem longer when she's in motion. And don't you miss her dark tipped claws, head knobs, and tail tips either, for she'll make use of two of them should someone look down on her. Personality:Excuse you, move over! This spotlight belongs to none other than Invidiath! There is no room in the inn for anyone but her, and everything belongs to this green. Or rather, it should. From the very beginning, she has been keenly aware of her metallic siblings' efforts to wrest the throne from her grasping claws. It is not fair that they are adored while she, the most worthy of all beings, is not immediately kowtowed to. Doesn't she deserve it? She is amazing, stupendous - glorious. The best of the best, the cream of the crop. If anyone cannot see that, then that is their mistake, and possibly a fatal one.
For those who give Invidiath her proper due, she can be an obliging creature, but she will be jealous of their attention and their company. Sharing is not in her nature. Although she fully expects to have everything and everyone, the same cannot be said in reverse - if someone who was clearly marked as her own (and anyone might be said to belong to Invidiath) and decided to stray into another's claws, she would be utterly unforgiving. Of course, that would be up until they cajoled her properly into the right mood. She can bend when given proper tribute.
Naturally intelligent and crafty, Invidiath will do whatever she has to to establish and maintain her place among High Reaches Weyr. Though she is a green, she might well have been hatched with a more sparkly hide, if not for a trick of fate. Don't think that she is not exceedingly conscious of being deprived of what should have been her hatch right. Oh, if she could only have been a queen, all would have been right in the world. It's all hers, it's all hers, it's HERS! She particularly covets what is not hers, however, and would go to almost any length to secure someone or something that belonged to a brother or more commonly a sister.
Anyone who fell to her charms would not be disappointed... at least not at first. She can be tender and loving when she's in the right mood, and will shower affection on those who please her. Stray outside of what she views acceptable, however, and you will see a whole other side of Invidiath. Those who betray her will be met with utter resentment and reproach from the green. She can and will turn a cold shoulder upon anyone who has wronged her, and they will certainly know that they have done so. She can be quite dramatic when it comes to express that sense of bereft loss. Those who stick by her, however, can hope to bring out the best in her in the form of true loyalty and devotion. For indeed, Invidiath is capable of near unparalleled love.
Her love might be considered worth all of the trouble, in the end. Invidiath is a very charming creature, and capable of flattering others if it will get her what she wants. If she cannot sit on the throne itself, she would love nothing more than to be the power behind the throne. Failing that, she will settle for being universally adored. Anything less would be intolerable, and Invidiath can and will fight to keep what she views as her deserved quality of life. Even if she does tend to throw away unwanted toys she will be jealously protective of them if someone else were to notice them. She'll take steps to secure them yet again, and may very well succeed.
Green Invidiath Written by Mr Cheri Colored by Meepfur
Origin of Name: Invidiath, from the Roman goddess Invidia - the goddess of envy and retribution, whose Greek counterpart was Nemesis. She would later become the deadly sin of Envy.
Inspiration: The Deadly Sin of Envy
Envy (Latin: invidia), like greed and lust, is characterized by an insatiable desire. It can be described as a sad or resentful covetousness towards the traits or possessions of someone else. It arises from vainglory, and severs a man from his neighbor.
Malicious envy is similar to jealousy in that they both feel discontent towards someone's traits, status, abilities, or rewards. A difference is that the envious also desire the entity and covet it. Envy can be directly related to the Ten Commandments, specifically, "Neither shall you covet ... anything that belongs to your neighbour"—a statement that may also be related to greed. Dante defined envy as "a desire to deprive other men of theirs". In Dante's Purgatory, the punishment for the envious is to have their eyes sewn shut with wire because they gained sinful pleasure from seeing others brought low. According to St. Thomas Aquinas, the struggle aroused by envy has three stages: during the first stage, the envious person attempts to lower another's reputation; in the middle stage, the envious person receives either "joy at another's misfortune" (if he succeeds in defaming the other person) or "grief at another's prosperity" (if he fails); the third stage is hatred because "sorrow causes hatred".
Envy is said to be the motivation behind Cain murdering his brother, Abel, as Cain envied Abel because God favored Abel's sacrifice over Cain's.
Bertrand Russell said that envy was one of the most potent causes of unhappiness, bringing sorrow to committers of envy whilst giving them the urge to inflict pain upon others.
In accordance with the most widely accepted views, only pride weighs down the soul more than envy among the capital sins. Just like pride, envy has been associated directly with the devil, for Wisdom 2:24 states: "the envy of the devil brought death to the world".
Personality:Excuse you, move over! This spotlight belongs to none other than Invidiath! There is no room in the inn for anyone but her, and everything belongs to this green. Or rather, it should. From the very beginning, she has been keenly aware of her metallic siblings' efforts to wrest the throne from her grasping claws. It is not fair that they are adored while she, the most worthy of all beings, is not immediately kowtowed to. Doesn't she deserve it? She is amazing, stupendous - glorious. The best of the best, the cream of the crop. If anyone cannot see that, then that is their mistake, and possibly a fatal one.
For those who give Invidiath her proper due, she can be an obliging creature, but she will be jealous of their attention and their company. Sharing is not in her nature. Although she fully expects to have everything and everyone, the same cannot be said in reverse - if someone who was clearly marked as her own (and anyone might be said to belong to Invidiath) and decided to stray into another's claws, she would be utterly unforgiving. Of course, that would be up until they cajoled her properly into the right mood. She can bend when given proper tribute.
Naturally intelligent and crafty, Invidiath will do whatever she has to to establish and maintain her place among High Reaches Weyr. Though she is a green, she might well have been hatched with a more sparkly hide, if not for a trick of fate. Don't think that she is not exceedingly conscious of being deprived of what should have been her hatch right. Oh, if she could only have been a queen, all would have been right in the world. It's all hers, it's all hers, it's HERS! She particularly covets what is not hers, however, and would go to almost any length to secure someone or something that belonged to a brother or more commonly a sister.
Anyone who fell to her charms would not be disappointed... at least not at first. She can be tender and loving when she's in the right mood, and will shower affection on those who please her. Stray outside of what she views acceptable, however, and you will see a whole other side of Invidiath. Those who betray her will be met with utter resentment and reproach from the green. She can and will turn a cold shoulder upon anyone who has wronged her, and they will certainly know that they have done so. She can be quite dramatic when it comes to express that sense of bereft loss. Those who stick by her, however, can hope to bring out the best in her in the form of true loyalty and devotion. For indeed, Invidiath is capable of near unparalleled love.
Her love might be considered worth all of the trouble, in the end. Invidiath is a very charming creature, and capable of flattering others if it will get her what she wants. If she cannot sit on the throne itself, she would love nothing more than to be the power behind the throne. Failing that, she will settle for being universally adored. Anything less would be intolerable, and Invidiath can and will fight to keep what she views as her deserved quality of life. Even if she does tend to throw away unwanted toys she will be jealously protective of them if someone else were to notice them. She'll take steps to secure them yet again, and may very well succeed.
Adult Size: 37' Physical Attributes: A small yet solidly built green, Invidiath is nevertheless a beauty. She is fully aware of this fact, and makes use of her flashy wings to catch the eyes of others in a Flight.
Additional Notes: It will be difficult for this green to decide on a favorite, as there are so many fine dragons out there. However, she does tend to prefer those who 'belong' to others, envious as she is. Landing Invidiath's hearts will be quite a challenge, but belonging to her is a breeze. Those up to the challenge will find themselves with quite the fervent admirer, should they be successful, but beware - too many looks at other dragons will get them in hot water quickly.
Impression Effect: The pain and fear of her first Hatching will never again haunt Miela. In place of any feelings of unworthiness will be a knowledge that she was and is so much more than she ever thought possible. Her scars and glass eye will add to her beauty, not detract from it, in the way of so many riders before her. She is part of a select group, and never need feel strange or lacking.
This Impression was decided when Miela put her hand on Invidiath's egg. It was then that the little green knew that they were perfect for one another. Although one might take Invidiath lightly as a green, she is a force to be reckoned with, and with Miela at her side there will be few hurdles they cannot leap together. There may be a limit to their ability to climb up into the upper echelons of the Weyr - at least one the surface - but clever Invidiath knows that they can pull the strings from the shadows. If not those of the Weyrleadership, then certainly they can aspire to one day be assistant Candidatemasters or Weyrlingmasters, or even bend the ear of a Wingleader or two. Dearest Miela, Invidiath knew that you were worthy with her entire hearts, and will spend every day from now on ensuring that you know it too.
ocelotocelotocelotocelot ▊▊Fire Lizards °
ocelotocelotocelotocelot ▊▊Important Moments °
Mystery Touching
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Miela
Back pin straight, her face a mask of careful thought, Miela bowed before Zenobiath in a professional manner and walked out onto the sands, ready to step into the future that was set for her. Deep within her she wanted nothing more than a dragon. Of course there was only one color that would get her what she wanted and it took everything she had to avoid glancing up to see where the Weyrwoman might be sitting, if she was there. There was only once chance for that sort of power, but it all depended on the dragon.
Her fate was in their hands. Maybe it was this that had her walking through the settled eggs until her right hand could touch the shell of the Ding-Dong Bell Egg. It was warm and solid, bright. There was nothing she could get as far as feeling, but then this was her first time standing. "Hello in there, you're a beautiful egg, are you a powerful in there as well?" Her voice came out in a curious half whisper, not willing to allow those around her to hear exactly what she wanted to know of the eggs. Did this little egg want to grab power as much as she did?
While she was honored beyond measure to touch her first dragon shell, she also felt that it should be honored being the first she touched, but Miela swallowed that thought quickly and sent a little apology to it. All things in time.
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Ding Dong Bell Egg Power?
Is that the only reason you're here, girl?
The egg seems to give a sudden jerk, almost as if the being inside was giving a snort. Perhaps it had. There's more to life than gaining power, and more to Impression than rising up in rank. From what this egg sees, Miela will have neither! Honestly--is there no vetting involved in this Candidacy thing? Are there no standards? As if this egg, or any egg at all really, should be honored to meet someone like her! The egg is very clearly repulsed.
Mother, Father where are the quality Candidates for this rabble simply will not do! To think the future of Pern rests with this lot. Hmph.
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Miela
To keep herself from laughing at the whining little egg that seemed to find no such satisfaction in her, Miela took her hand off it's shell and shook her head, cottony pigtails bouncing a bit as she took a step or so back. Well, not every egg was strong and that one was certainly arrogant and pompous, but it would be weak and she had no time for a weak egg. There were aspirations in her and yes, power was one of them. Feigning dusting herself off, as if to dust off the foul interaction, she turned on her heel and walked gently away from it. No use in falling all over herself today of all days, this was her first attempt.
Her eyes scanned over the available eggs and settled on a little black one who's shell seemed to soak in all the colors at once. Well, this was a good egg maybe? Gently she laid a hand upon Lump of Coal and worked at keeping her mind open, any judgement from the previous egg absolutely gone and forgotten. Hello inside there, you're shell is beautiful like a mirror. No use asking what she already had, since it seemed both the parents would be keeping an eye on her now thanks to the egg before.
What would this little egg hold for her?
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Alumet of Gold Zenobiath
Zenobiath had already been at attention, as one of her eggs seemed a bit distressed, as though it had been bemoaning the state of the candidates. She'd been sending it kind love. It would be well, little one. Mother knew there had to be at least ONE appropriate candidate amongst them. After all, she'd found one, hadn't she? Ding Dong had all of mother's support and reassurance. Then, one Candidate's thoughts had the MISFORTUNE of meeting the Gold's mind.
Red flashed in to violet, and Zenobiath's head turned, and Miela would suddenly find herself faced with a great golden head, and whirling eyes. The violet was for her children. The red was SOLELY for the girl. How dare you. Arrogant, Pompous? My children ALL have a right to feel, and think of you, as they please. YOU on the other hand have a duty to uphold. One that does not involve disparaging my unborn little ones. Her voice held all the warning, her eyes not leaving Miela. If you are here only for power, you are thinking about dragons all wrong. Child, remember. You are here for them. Not the other way around. These little ones are of a proud and strong line. Not a one of them is anything but as they are meant to be, and I would thank you not to think of any of them as weak again.
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C'ryn of Bronze Aresoth
Aresoth's attentions had been flitting back and forth over the different eggs, just keeping a watch on temperaments and to make sure that no one was getting bothered. At first his attention had been drawn to the Lump of Coal Egg as it seemed to bemoan all of the candidates who were touching it. This changed when a young man had finally approached that the egg seemed to deem worthy. Just as quick the bronze's attention shifted to Ding Dong Egg as it had called out to him and Zenobiath, crying out about the quality of the candidates among them.
You will find those worthy, little one. Just because there are some who believe themselves above all of this.... His eyes had changed to adding red to the whirling violet as Zenobiath's did, shooting the female candidate a glance before forgetting about her completely, Zenobiath had that under control. There are others here who understand this better then some it seems. I had hoped the Candidatemaster's would have seen it drilled into them better.
Finishing the soothing thoughts to the egg Aresoth turned his attention to both Sinrunth and Minimunth for a moment. I will be keeping an eye upon the one Zenobiath just reprimanded...You should as well... His words to them was colder, with a harsh edge to it. Perhaps because he had thought better of them, where they not supposed to repeat Gr'del's mistakes from the previous touching and hatchings?
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Ding Dong Bell Arrogant!? POMPOUS!?
If Miela had thought she had retreated far enough, she was sadly mistaken. The egg in its shell began to shove itself back and forth, and a new, anger gripped it. Coward girl! Face down this egg with such nasty thoughts and think them fully if you dare! The only weak one upon the sand is you, insolent creature!
Anyone near or touching the Ding Dong Bell egg will immediately find themselves gripped by pure, unadulterated rage!HOW DARE SHE BE ALLOWED TO BE HERE! Shake, shake, wriggle, wriggle--this egg wasn't finished with Miela. Even with Zenobiath's closeness and assurance, the little egg's offense was true.
Lump of Coal Egg Even if Miela hadn't asked it--this egg was well aware of exactly who and what Miela was. If she expected a warm response, this egg had nothing but disgust. This egg had no use for the likes of her. Shoo! Away! Scram! She wasn't worth its time. Be gone!
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Sinrunth The dark, grizzled bronze would slowly turn his regard to Aresoth. His eyes sparked red, and his curved lip would show a few of his long teeth. Still, the large bronze would give a snort before responding to the clutch father. What did the foolish bronze think he was doing? Honestly--it took him all of his willpower not to make a biting response.
Instead, he turned to force his will upon all the Candidates.
Candidates! Step away from the eggs and return to the Barracks immediately.His words were not to be questioned, and if they knew what was good for them, they would not think twice about arguing.
F'dral was staring directly at the group near Lump of Coal Egg and Ding Dong Egg before turning to arch a brow at Starry Night Egg It appeared as if some among them hadn't taken heed of his advice. Where Gr'del might well have removed Candidates from the Touching or pushed them to the sidelines, F'dral was not that sort. "You heard Sinrunth. Move." Looking to Alumet and C'ryn, he offered the smallest tilt of his head. "I think that's well enough for one afternoon. The Candidates have been here long enough." He wasn't going to put further stress on the clutch--tantrums were expected, of course, but he wasn't here to exacerbate the situation. Zenobiath and Aresoth could care for the eggs, and F'dral would deal with the Candidates.
Honestly, the man would need consider if Touchings were necessary at all going forward--for all the trouble they seem to cause. At least one Candidate would be paid a visit--but if any of them expected another Touching before the Hatching, they would all be sadly mistaken. Sinrunth would inform him of those who were in need of reevaluation--but he wasn't here to give them second chances.
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Miela
Never in her life had she encountered so many voices in her own mind, so much unfettered anger that bounced into it. Living in a weyr surrounded by dragons, she surprisingly had never had one talk to her before the queen leveled her angry gaze at her. Yes, she'd likely made a mistake, let her emotions at such a rebuff overcome her and thought something... not as nice. Given that it was her very first touching and very first egg, she'd gone straight to the punch. She would have to remember not to do that in the future, eggs didn't seem to enjoy being asked such straightforward questions. Or compliments it seemed.
She took her hand off of the Lump of Coal and turned her hazel gaze to the rocking visage of Ding Dong Egg across the clutch. Oh she knew that anger was for her, Zenobiath had made certain to inform her of what she was worth to that egg, just as the egg itself had, just as it's sibling had. They all knew her off of two touches of eggs did they? While she might not have had much training, she knew exactly how to be quiet when she needed to and all of a sudden the rush of emotions and pain at the slights was swallowed by... nothing. That was what she gave in response to the queen, to the Lump.
Nothing.
Her eyes seemed to ice over. She had missed an important marker, though she'd remembered her training. Never once would she forget that eggs could sense far away from their shells again, or that dragons believed that power and greatness meant only one thing. So it was bad to have dreams of it apparently. Any negative thought Miela would have had about such a stab to her dreams and goals deep in her heart was pushed away by the calm she forced on herself. Indeed, she didn't even jump when the master's dragon roared an order to all the Candidates minds. The second dragon to talk to her.
Pulling herself up to her fully unimpressive height, Miela kept her back straight and glanced at F'dral's expression that swept from her to the Ding Dong Egg with no thoughts about what it would mean for herself. She couldn't afford to think at the moment or it would all overwhelm her. There were much worse things than angry dragons awaiting her as soon as she stepped off these sands. Things that might keep her from standing upon them ever again after her first try.
Mystery Hatching - Mauling
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Miela
While her talk with her mother had actually done quite a bit to rouse her spirits and bring her back to something like her normal self, Miela wasn't at all in a rush to meet the eggs. Or rather, two eggs in particular that wanted as little to do with her as she did with them. Though she dressed in her robe, pulled on her sandals and brushed out her hair from the cloud state it had been in, as it always was, she wasn't doing it in as rushed a manner as the other candidates. Certainly she had some expedience, as was her duty, but duty was as fast as she would go and even as she began to walk onto the sands, to bow, to expose the back of her neck to these dragons that all hated her and had been gossiping, there was dread.
Somewhere in the back of her mind there was a loud voice bellowing "So what!?" but she couldn't bring herself to heed it as she normally would have, ready as she was to be singled out by a baby dragon that had already made it's desire to face her head on extremely evident. Straightening from her bow, the small girl made herself seem even smaller on the sands as she walked to an area where she could be all alone. Certainly something was going to happen this dark night, but others didn't need to be swept into it as she faced it head on, unable to actually defend herself for fear that a baby dragon might Between.
Resolutely she imagined a calm pool in her mind and stayed as still as stone, for now.
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dhawsn - he/him
Rumors were nasty things he oftend tried to ignore, but they were hard to avoid when stuck in place. Still, they made things easier for Dhawsn when it came to singling out the candidates he wanted to reach out to, as was his wont. Caring for strangers was practically his side job at this point, even though exactly zero people had asked.
On the sands, he scooted to Miela casually as he could, radiating nothing but his characteristic doof and dadness. He might have been a sun compared to her stone, attempting to exude light to banish the clouds threatening around her. "This your first?" he asked by way of breaking the ice. "Me, I bet they was tryna pick it so they'd break at dawn, the babes." Nevermind that they might not have known what that was.
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Tuelarua - HR Candidate, She/Her/Hers
Had morning truly come so quickly? Though normally a very early riser, Tuela could only blink and try to clear her head as chaos ensued around her. The little paws of her firelizards bounding across her cot had her stirring more, feeling the thrum of her trio before registering the deep, melodic hum of dragons all around her. Was it truly time? It seemed only yesterday that the touching had.. happened.
More alert, Tuelarua stretched and made quick work of a comb through her hair. Learning from last time, she bound the deep red locks up in multiple loops. Shucking her night clothes for the slightly scratchy material of the candidate robes, sandals gently donned, she was ready to face yet another batch of the future defenders of Pern. At best? She would be walking back out of the hatching grounds with a lifemate. At worst? She would have a new batch of baby dragons to sketch and the possibility of standing for another clutch. As long as Tuela stayed alert on her feet and away from baby dragon claws and teeth, all would be fine.
Heeding F’dral’s kinder reminder, she stepped out with her fellow candidates to bow a greeting to Zenobiath and Aresoth. The eggs were shaking, and though she wanted to watch them from her vantage point, she could only look around to spy a familiar face or two -- and Rahmsii’s caught her attention first, with Miela right after.
Making her way to her short friend, she smiled at Rahmsii, taking him by the hand and leaning in to say over the din of humming -- “I saw Miela this way, come on.” By the hand, she was happy to find the young candidate who Tuelarua felt a touch protective over. The younger sibling she never had.
“Hi Miela, mind if we come stand by you?” Though she settled by the other candidate already, smiling at the other candidate warmly. No one she could place.. A Westerner perhaps? “Hi there. I’m Tuelarua.”
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With the Hatching Sands all but filled up, the Ding-Dong Bell egg gave a sudden and quite violent twitch.
Someone in there was starting to wake up.
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Miela
Where she was standing, quietly sweeping her eyes over the sands and twitching as the eggs began to do so themselves as well, Miela wasn't at all expecting anyone to be brave enough to even approach her. Or maybe foolish was a far better word for it. Yet her face tilted up and up and further up until she blinked owlishly at the giant who had chosen to come over near her and talk. He would make an excellent shield lest a particular egg hatched an angry dragonet with a grudge and claws to back it up. Horrible thing to think of course, but it entered her head and erased her current calm lake image so abruptly that it snaked in there.
"First, most likely of many." Miela answered shortly and peered out at the eggs "They just couldn't wait any longer it appears. We'll see what becomes of them n..."
Cut off by the appearance of yet another person, one she knew this time but honestly thought wouldn't come to find her, let alone with Rahmsii in tow. This was becoming crowded. Her eyebrow raised for just a moment before she was able to mask the confusion and intrusion that all three of them were bringing to her with closed eyes and shut off face. If there was to be blood she had believed it would be only hers, but now it was complicated and not just in her own head. Certainly the two she'd met previously had been kind while they had painted quietly with her, or not so quietly with questions at times, but Miela hadn't thought they would...
She pressed two fingers to her temple quietly for a brief moment and sighed inwardly. Whyyyyyy her? Hadn't she proven to be a terrible person to so many, or rather enough, that those with good hearts might choose to leave her be?
"I suppose the more the merrier at this point in the hatching. You'll all be off and away soon enough with dragonets I'm quite sure." Miela posed, looking at Tuelarua with her boyfriend Rahmsii, no she didn't care if they called themselves that or not it was so clear, and the newcomer who's name she hadn't quite gathered yet but who she had already thought terrible thoughts about. "If you're all fine being seen with a bad candidate that's your business. Don't blame me if a dragon comes this way with claws extended though."
Oh no, she hadn't missed the violent twitch of Ding Dong's shell, some baby was interested in coming out and she just hoped it wasn't angry.
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Tuelarua - HR Candidate, She/Her/Hers
Miela's oh so cheerful spirit brought a smile to the candidate's face, shrugging. "Who knows, you might be out of here. Some babies might like a headstrong girl." She was quickly approaching aging out, but that was okay. Being able to greet the hatchlings on the sands was a wonderful chance that not many got, after all. She would enjoy it until she could no longer be permitted.
With a gentle shrug, she looked down at herself. "I don't know. I'm a twig -- I might blow away with a hard breeze."
Beaming at Dhawsn, she easily shrugged. "You get used to the winters in the mountains. Keep active. I imagine Western summers are pretty blistering, no?"
But the time for chatter died down, as the first egg split open, revealing.. a brown! She hadn't been able to swing by and say hello to Starry Night Egg, but the brown dragon was utterly stunning. "Hello darling, welcome to the world." It was his hatchday (as all of his other siblings'), and they deserved all the attention that was owed to them.
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dhawsn - he/him
Dhawsn gaped at Ramsii. "Never?" he gasped. "Aw, buckets Between, man, you missin' out! You cain' live 'til you at least go in the summer n' lay out on the sand in the sun, listenin' t'the waves, eatin' some fruit, playin' around...Mean, yeah, it gets hot," he added to Tuelara with a verbal shrug, "but ya can't sleep in th'cold. Sunbathin's way better by the water, under the shade've a tree...S'a real vacation sometimes."
Not that he had taken any recently. Not even the soothing rolls of the waves or the smell of the sea and sand had calmed his anxiety. He couldn't help his daughter or her mother and his friend, and they had left. Now here he was miles away, talking to more kids and maybe helping them instead, praying for a dragon even as that hope slipped further away. What poor facsimile of a man was he?
"Dunno if you can tell, but bein' active ain' my strong suit," Dhawsn said with a laugh and a pat of his large belly. "But! I been through my fair share a'hatchin's, so don'chu worry. I'm pretty good at bein' a meat shield, I'll keep ya safe."
Though hopefully he wouldn't need it. He eyed the first dragonet on the sands with a hopefuly smile.
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The Ding-Dong Bell Egg jerked violently once more, and this time, a crack began to appear in its shell.
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Miela
This was going to be a very long hatching around these particular candidates, oh Miela could feel it in her bones. She didn't have a real response for the man that introduced himself as Dhawsn to the others, but she mulled it over in her head. Yes she'd made a mistake, she knew full well in the glorious course of her life she would make quite a few more than she already had. But she wanted to be perfect and if she could she would be. She'd do everything in her power to be. "This could be worse I suppose. But the one that was insulted hasn't hatched yet. So I won't hold my breath."
Even though she'd thought for a moment of using someone as a shield, when Rahmsii offered she felt herself bristle for just a moment. She'd meant to do this alone, be attacked alone, face it all alone. But the pair of them had been kind after the touching and then they came for her here. Her head swirled for a moment as she tried to think of a way to respond to that, but could only manage a weak smile up at him and Tuelarua.
Everything started to buzz out in her mind, as if her ears were ringing and the world slowing down. Ding Dong egg had cracked. It hadn't hatched yet but she could tell it would soon. Even though she was keeping her welcoming thoughts open for the other babies, she couldn't help but keep her eyes right on that one and her mind as empty of fear as she could. "It hasn't hatched yet... it's coming."
Of course she knew the egg might totally ignore her and her anxiety was simply foolish, but Miela was worried all the same of what might happen.
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Ding Dong Egg finally shattered, revealing a very large blue dragon in its wake. His eyes were red, his fangs were bared, and while his brothers were duking it out--HE was on a mission. I will show you power! He all but roared, fangs bared, claws unsheathed. Like a rocket, with all the determination and speed of a dragon on a hunt--this blue went after the Candidate he had been stewing over since the Touching.
Miela.
If anyone near her dared to get between him and that girl, he would cut them down too! He would not be satisfied until he showed her the might of who she had so thoroughly offended. This was a blue who would not be satisfied. I am anything but weak! He snarled directly at her, lunging with his full-force.
His anger, his rage, his grudge could well be felt by all Candidates on the sands. She might have been spoken to, she might have punished--but she had picked the wrong egg to offend and now she would pay.
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Fivudal - Healer
It seemed things were going to go all right for a moment. Sure, some of the dragonetts were fighting but that was common. One of the blues was running around and causing trouble, but it seemed most of those wounds were superficial. Other healers were already moving closer just in case someone needed a quick patch, but Fivudal hung back just a moment longer.
Just in time for a blue to fly straight from his egg and onto one of the Candidates.
"Shards," he muttered softly as Ding Dong Bell tore into Miela, no mercy in his bright red eyes. He was already on the move, walking slowly towards the dragon and the other Candidates who would hopefully move away. He couldn't do much until the dragon moved away but he'd be ready to rush in once he did. Hopefully there'd be something left to try to save.
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Mailse - Worried Momma
That was her baby! Mailse all but stood up as the angry blue went charging towards her little Miela, biting her lower lip and almost reaching out to grab the arm of the person next to her as her heart lunged up into her chest.
Her baby, her baby!
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Rahmsii - [he/him] - HR
Clearly, it wasn’t the tussling pair on the sands he needed to worry about. It seemed no amount of reassurances and acting carefully could redirect rage untethered. He was too busy keeping tabs of the cat fight of brown and bronze, to see the blue dragon before it very nearly smacked into him. He was still standing near to front of Miela, being awfully in the way. Nevermind that he sort of took up more than his fair share of space…
A call, perhaps a warning was crushed out of him with the force of impact. In felt over in a second, hours - nothing in between. Soft flesh peeled under dragon claws and snapping jaws. Soft and delicate. How many times has he pressed his own teeth to skin, watching flesh knit to heal on white around his fingers? Only to feel bigger, sharper dragon teeth dig into him. Panic rippled through him, numbing pain.
The rank scent of his own blood filled his nose, the taste of it filling his mouth from biting his tongue in surprise.. He was quick enough to raise his arms, protecting vulnerable parts. The back of his forearms, the soft flesh of his stomach bearing most of the brunt as he was clawed out of the blue’s way, and shoved roughly to the ground. Rahmsii could have done nothing to protect the younger candidate, except hopefully tire some of its rage (or maybe just sharpened his claws on the way, if he thought about it). It echoed with the sounds of the bronze and brown tussling.
It was.. Bad.It hurt, plain and simple. Not nearly bad as Miela if the sound of savaging he couldn’t bear to turn his head to was anything to judge by. He could feel the dragons splintering rage. Was it worth it? To draw blood? To feel so angry? For ichor and blood to mix on these sands? Rahmsii ground his teeth in jaw, picking himself back up off the sands. Filthy, white robe ripped at his middle, and stained with blood. He wasn’t torn open wide.. Bleeding wasn’t seeping. He gave himself a once over. It throbbed, but certainly other things hurt more. He just couldn’t think of them right now. He could stand. He’d deal.
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Miela
It was exactly what she had feared when the voice roared into her head. It had been brewing on what had happened between the two of them this little blue. Truly, it was fitting that it was a blue that decided to show her what strength and power was, but she knew in that moment that she wouldn't walk away from this.
"You all should have stayed away." Her voice came out as nothing more than a squeak as she watched the blue tear towards her violently, with death glowing in it's bright eyes as it did so. He... did so. She should have known that it wouldn't be a bronze, which was what she'd thought it would be, a bronze that was worthless to her, as they were for all female candidates to even dream of as it would never happen. But this blue was neither hers nor coming towards her with good intent.
Anyone that might have stepped before her she missed, her eyes were locked on those bloody red eyes, watching them swirl with hatred. She put her arms up, knowing it wouldn't help, but it cushioned some of the impact as the dragon, not much smaller than her own diminutive height, smashed into her and sent her to the sands. Claws raked over her body, ripped through skin that hadn't ever been touched by such violence before and blood ran across those claws, the sands, splattered with the vehemence of the attack across any candidate near her.
Agony was the only feeling that she had, the only thing that mattered as her nerve endings screamed from the assault. Darkness hedged at her mind as a claw found the side of her head, slashing down over her face. Miela hadn't even realized that she was screaming until she heard it as if it was coming from somewhere else. Dragons were proud creatures and this one just showcased that splendidly, but she had no time to think, had no understanding other than horrible searing pain that was edging towards blackness with every moment the blue continued to repay her words with violence.
Weak.
As the human brain could, it shut off to disconnect her from the pain and her eyes, closed tight fiercely until now, opened with a glazed look to them. How much blood did the human body have again? Her brain couldn't start up.
"He...lp."
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Tuelarua - HR Candidate, She/Her/Hers
Dhawsn’s remark actually startles a laugh out of Tuelarua, trying to hide it behind her hand. Maybe they were weird, but she was quite fond of the views of the mountains. She quirked a brow, before nodding. “I got to touch a few. Little blue that’s zooming around was pretty sweet to me, and that little one there that hasn’t hatched yet,” She nods at the Snowflake egg, “was very kind. What about you?”
Yet Tuela cast a stray glance at Miela, making certain to keep tabs on the young candidate. A first hatching could be an interesting experience, and after the touching… She couldn’t quite explain the gentle, protective feelings she had over the little one. Perhaps a dragon would find her to impress before possibly upset over whatever had happened between them. But the young candidate’s nerves could near be felt in the air, and Tuela gently reached over to take Miela’s hand, giving a gentle squeeze -- but loose enough that if she wanted to pull away, Tuelarua certainly wouldn’t protest. “It’ll be okay.”
Oh, irony. Sweet, stupid irony.
Seeing the Ding Dong Egg shatter into the angriest blue dragon Tuelarua had ever seen had her trying to react, moving herself in his path in some feeble attempt to protect the small candidate. But the force of him hitting her, his claws against fragile skin, had her yelping. Bruises would set in, and no doubt she’d have some distinguished scars. Furrows up her legs, shallow into her stomach, arms and hands where she’d tried to instead protect herself and her more vulnerable bits. The robe was ruined, but in tact. The rivulets of blood were mostly superficial. But nothing lethal, nothing worth a trip to the healer’s -- no doubt a lecture from F’dral, though she would take that in stride after the hatching.
But feeling the bleed off emotions of baby dragons, no matter how she had felt it before, could prepare her. Staggering under the feeling of his anger, weighing against the urge to look away from the savaging, she turned her gaze onto the smaller candidate. No, all her attention was focused on Miela.
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dhawsn - he/him
It was instinctual. The moment he heard that cry, the moment he saw that large blue make his way towards their group, Dhawsn became a stupid, stupid hero-wannabe. Because he had figured this would happen. Rumors weren't always wrong. Something had definitely happened at the Touching, even if he didn't know what exactly besides upset eggs. And eggs tended to find their targets one way or another, he had learned over the turns.
Too bad his stupid fat a** wasn't enough to stop a baby dragon regardless. He tried, certainly, to intervene, but there was only so much he could do without getting even rougher--and Faranth knew he couldn't jeapordize the baby or his intended target further. In a mess of blood and ripped fabric, Dhawsn did his best to try and shield Miela, and it cost him--and he didn't even stop the rampage, for all his efforts.
He was a coward, right up until it was trying to save a kid. Some poor kid who had made a mistake at the wrong time, but who didn't need to die for it. Maybe it was his new dad instincts overwriting the yellowbelly he had always been. Maybe Dhawsn just desperately wanted to make something better for a Hatching for someone else. It was too bad that thoughts and actions didn't always resolve so neatly in reality.
"H-Hold on, I gotcha," he rumbled when there was a free moment to try and take her out of the blue's grasp. His own body was shaking from the gashes on his arms and legs, though he had done his best to keep the injuries limited to his back. Shards, shards. "I gotcha," he repeated, ignoring what Miela had said. He was too afraid to address the dragon directly, but he tried to look submissive even as the onslaught happened and his protection continued, paper thin.
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Ding Dong Bell Blue certainly savaged those who were in the way--and he certainly made sure that Miela knew well what a fool she'd been to claim any dragon weak.
But she was a child--just as he was. They both made mistakes.
He had no intention of truly hurting others, and as he pushed himself away from the bleeding girl, onslaught finished, he did turn an approving eye on those nearby--and the healer as well. She would not be alone. They could all get themselves patched.
Wear my scars well, girl. And with that, the beast of a blue would spare her no further thought. Though he had stewed for sevendays, planning, preparing, knowing full well what he intended--now that the price had been paid, he had no more ire. Instead, he gave his wings a shake, and trotted proudly back towards the throng of Candidates. He was confident, not at all apologetic, and why should he be?
He was just as great as his pompous siblings, was he not?
Forgive me for my anger, Mother, Father, but spare the rod, spoil the child.
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dhawsn - he/him
The blue backed off, and Dhawsn swooped in. His body protested it, and he felt a wave of lightheadedness hit him briefly when he swung up, Miela in his arms. "I gotcha," he said for the third time. "C'mon..."
Thankfully, they didn't have to make it far before the healers came to them and took them in. He wasn't so hurt that he didn't hear one calling him an idiot for acting out. Now there were two candidates to take care of instead of one. Yeah. Pretty stupid, he supposed, in retrospect. That's why not acting at all, or running away, was preferable. Oops.
"M'fine," he said as they parted him from Miela, even as he bled the robes pink. "Jus' make sure she's good for me?" He gave the healer tending to her a pleading look, as if he wouldn't do that already without some coercion. "Girl shouldn' die fer that, y'know, it's--Ow." The solution put on his wounds ached like a b***h. "Sawry fer pretendin' t'be a hero n' all that, I jus'..." He sighed. To Miela, he asked, "Hun, you hear me? Yer gonna be okay, promise."
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Fivudal - Healer
Fivudal grimaced as he waited, unable to do anything but watch and hope that the blue would lose interest eventually and that the Candidate laying on the sands wouldn’t bleed out before he got to her. Thankfully Ding Dong Bell blue seemed to find satisfaction in his work as he finally turned away, talons stained red.
Jogging over to the Candidates, Fivudal was met a few paces from the group by Dhawsn who had managed to scoop Miela up. He wished he hadn’t so he could assess the damage first - moving an injured person could make things far worse - but there wasn’t much to be done about that now.
A few other healers joined him as Fivudal took Miela from Dhawsn, tending to the less sliced up but still bleeding too much Candidate. He let another healer chide him for his actions but Fivudal knew from experience that he’d get an earful from the Candidatemaster if he didn’t Impress.
“I’ll do my best,” he promised the young man, sincere in his words. “If you can manage, get back out there once the bleeding stops.” Then he carried Miela further off the main area of the sands, bringing her to the relative safety of the healer’s area. He knew he needed to work quickly and find the worst of the wounds, but from what he could see that wouldn’t be hard in locating. Her face was a mess from the sharp talons.
“Right. Miela, is it? Stay with me, please. I’ve got something for the pain, hold tight.” He got to work immediately, a steady and practiced hand mopping up blood and stitching skin back together. She may have scars but they would be impeccably healed, he would ensure.
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Miela
Well, call her a fool if one must, but somewhere in the dark, currently unreachable parts of her brain, the girl knew she'd been correct in her assessment. She would allow that to come later, that small little victory, but Miela was awash in pain and her mind wouldn't allow for much in the way of thought or understanding at the moment. It took all her mental power just to acknowledge that someone had lifted her up off the blood soaked sands and her eye opened to peer up at Dhawsn in a haze. Only able to see his body, she couldn't be certain that Tuelarua and Rahmsii had made it either, but then it seemed the monster had only seen fit to maul her the most because of her slight. So maybe they had been fine, she couldn't tell.
Lips sliced wide she couldn't speak as if to respond to the blue or to Dhawsn's carrying her to the healer who's hand she suddenly found herself placed in. Words were being spoken around her head but she couldn't identify them and truly in that moment, she didn't care what they were talking about. Surely it was something close to healers jargon. So her hand clung onto the steadily growing pinker robes of the large giant who she'd only just met, who she'd had terrible thoughts about that had come true, who she'd tried to get to leave along with the others. It was a mindless motion, but as her hands were pried off Miela uttered something close to a whimper and closed her remaining eye.
Once again someone said something to her, this time she recognized her name in the haze and struggled to open her eye up only to see hands right above it. Struggling, she nodded her head to the question of her name and surrendered herself to the stitches, her whole face numb from... something. With the worst of the pain ebbed away to a vicious throbbing, though blood was still flowing from her face and chest and arms and shoulders and... Miela was fairly certain there was no blood left in her body and a ludicrous bubble of laughter pulled from her without her permission.
Shock was an amazing drug, far better than what the healers even used and her own body made it, but she wasn't fully coherent at the moment because of it and that had to go away. These thoughts were there, in a jumbled up mess as all her thoughts were and she made as if to swipe them away physically. They didn't go away but they did align themselves a little better with each passing moment in time.
Hattaki Crew
Lonely Phantom
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Hattaki Crew
Lonely Phantom
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Posted: Mon Jul 06, 2020 12:27 am
Name: J'emi (Formerly Jemisaive) Age: 19 Nameday: 3557.10.27 Sex: Male Sexual Orientation: Homosexual Weyr: High Reaches Weyr Rider Rank: Wingrider (Burning Aces) Previous Rank/Craft: Harper Voice:X ~ Ambrose Spellman/Chilling Adventures of Sabrina Song:青春なんていらないわ ~ 三月のパンタシア Physical Description: Not especially tall, J'emi is slender and dark skinned even when he's not out in the sun, making his naturally light blond hair and so pale as to be yellow brown eyes startling against his darker features. To soften this effect, he dyes a part of his hair dark brown, not wanting to hide entirely the side of him that comes from his blonde mother. With the length of it and how he dyes it paired up with his slender frame, there are times that he can be mistaken for female and he's never once cared, simply shrugging it off with the wave of a hand.
To his credit, he dresses as one might think a rider would, always in something practical, but he adds embellishments here and there for himself and doesn't shy away from wearing as much jewelry as he wants. It's his vanity, but he enjoys wearing his best when he can and his marks prior to becoming a Candidate were spent on shiny things. Personality: Above all else, beyond his terrible propensity for being vain about his appearance and dirt and everything else around him and how he can be a bit cold towards those he meets before getting to know them well, J'emi is a creative soul. It bursts out of him in songs and poems, in what he writes and reads. While he won't go spouting poetry off the cuff to random strangers, those closest to him will be able to all but feel the imagination glowing out of him. But it's not just with his love of all things written and sung, it's also in how he interacts with his world, thinking of different ways to do things and how to spend his time, when it's free at least. If rules were a box he tends to run right past them, needing to be curtailed just a tiny bit so he doesn't run off wild, but he hates being constrained. In fact he'll get full on defensive about it and lock horns briefly with those that do before shrugging it off and going to do as he's told. He's a bit anxious of criticism and this is what brings it out, being told that he's doing something poorly or what he should or shouldn't do gets under his skin, but J'emi certainly doesn't want others to know that and bristles in response, thereby making the whole situation worse.
Keeping others at an arm's reach is the key to him not needing to be overly defensive or get himself into such terrible situations, especially with people that he doesn't know. It isn't shyness that makes him standoffish, it's the desire to not be left or held back, to not argue with anyone. It's quite a bit easier to push those he doesn't trust quite yet away and not let them get close in the first place than it is to become friends or better with an individual and have them leave or just start ignoring him. Call it a throwback to his past in another Weyr, but it has followed him. That's not to say he can't be forgiving with people, in fact he's extremely forgiving given how he is and tends to be the first to apologize in any situation he's placed in. It doesn't matter what was done to him in the past or present or what might happen to him in the future with an individual, all that matters to him is that the air is clear and everyone is at ease with the situation. J'emi would never enjoy leaving someone upset or angry unless he can help it.
In reality he's not so very vain that he would ever turn up his nose to others, his particular brand of vanity stems more towards his appearance than his personality or who he is as a person. Having grown up in a creche for much of his early life, J'emi isn't under any illusions as to who he is and where he fits in the hierarchy of the world, never has been. But that doesn't mean that he can't view himself in a good light or try and make himself look his best, or flaunt it a tiny bit when feasts and celebrations arise. That's what they're for after all! It's all in how smart he is that despite his worst he can still worm his way out of it and appear his best. For he is vastly intelligent but often keeps it to himself unless a situation arises that requires him to show it off, even then he's a bit hesitant with it. This could be because J'emi wants to use that intelligence for his own devices, to power his creativity and his fortitude when doing things that interest him.
Positive Trait List Intelligent, Forgiving, Creative Negative Trait List Standoffish, Vain, Defensive
History:
Son of a, then Candidate, now dragon rider from Western Weyr, Jemisaive didn’t get to know his mother long before being placed in the creche. Not even more than a few days really, but this was the life that he was born into and the only one that he knew for many turns. The creche wasn’t that bad of a place to grow up with other weyrbrats his own age and even older, there was nothing that felt especially claustrophobic about it and if anything he was given the opportunity to do what he pleased, within reason. But others would always have their parents stop by, or be adopted out to others, leaving him with a small bit of resentment for the woman that he knew was his mother. In his younger years it presented itself as an aloofness that lingered before melding into something just a bit softer and gentler. Of course she stopped by from time to time to visit him but it wasn’t the ‘family’ that he saw others have and he wished somewhere deep down inside that he had it as well. By the time he was seven turns he had that opportunity but turned it down.
It wasn’t that he didn’t love his mother but he didn’t know how to act around her or with her so Jemisaive simply watched as his mother raised his younger half sister with curious eyes for a few turns. When he wasn’t being curious of how other families worked in their interactions he was watching dragons and listening to harpers, trying to come up with his own songs about dragons that might impress some of the men and women that came through the Weyr day to day. Creativity flourished in his mind and in his writings until he finally approached his mother with a request, wanting to go to Fort Hold where the Harper’s Hall was located. He wanted to write and sing and recite poems, learn from the masters there in Fort how it was done and hone his craft to the best he could be. Lucky for him, his mother was more than happy to take him there, dropping him off and keeping an eye on him with visits from time to time while he was studying there.
And oh did he ever learn. There was so much history and so many things to experience, of course he wanted to write and create poetry, but he also learned to sing during his time there, or at least better than he ever had before. While he wasn’t super talented at letting others close, he did develop a few friendships there that lasted, with like minded individuals that drew him in close and for once didn’t abandon him. For it was his turn to do the abandoning for once, when a dragon and its rider approached him during his free time. Being only fifteen turns he hadn’t paid attention to the fact that he could stand, always thinking that dragons were behind him.
Of course he accepted, having grown up around them and knowing full well that there were still harpers in the Weyrs. In fact he was curious to see what types of harpers High Reaches had, knowing he’d meet a few. Having come from a Weyr before as a weyrbrat, it was quite different being Searched and learning in a totally different one. The climate and mountainous differences aside, it wasn’t quite as progressive as he was used to but the place itself was mostly the same. Dragons and Riders and Candidates and suddenly… Thread. Jemisaive got to see first hand what threadfighting dragons were meant to do within the first few months he was at High Reaches and was glad to be in the most prepared Weyr of them all when he saw what was happening. The devastation wrought. Fearing for his mother he sent a message her way, but heard nothing back at first as the spores rained down across all of Pern.
Once word did come from his mother, able to breathe just a bit easier, Jemisaive threw himself into learning what he could in this new Pern full of danger and stood every opportunity he could until he finally heard her voice. The only voice he ever cared to have ring in his head, as he was sure other riders felt when they first heard their own dragons talk to them. Ah, there was where you were hiding JemisaiveMine. Don’t worry about what’s happened, it’s the future that matters now and all of that is in your past. Come with your Leucath. Having not been hiding and only a small bit worried about the other dragons on the sands that had ripped into his fellow Candidates and even killed one, J’emi blinked owlishly in confusion down at the smallest little green dragon that had somehow covered herself head knobs to tail tips in sand. I’m not sure how it happened either, it just sticks. His heart stuck in his throat just seeing Leucath shake herself off and offer him a smile full of rainbows and love.
It was only the beginning for them as they walked off the sands towards a future flying in the sky to burn away Thread. Along their way they bonded and learned, found friends and lost wingmates before they were even a full-blown wing. It was one lesson that they held onto knowing there would be more to come.
Name: Leucath Origin of Name: The Leaky Cauldron was built by Daisy Dodderidge in an a very successful attempt to form a gateway between the Wizarding and Muggle worlds. Leucath's name comes from the binomial nomenclature Leucanthemum vulgare, for the Ox-Eye Daisy common in Europe. Inspiration: Famous in the Wizarding World as the first pub built in london The Leaky Cauldron is entered off Charing Cross Road and was the entrance to both Diagon and Knockturn Alleys. While it's dingy and small it is always viewed as welcoming and serves as a good place for wizards to unwind after work. It's also famous for it's luncheons. Age: 2 Color: Green Size: 40' Voice:X ~ Elastigrl/Incredibles Song:Home ~ Phillip Phillips Physical Description: A small and tightly compact sort of dragon, Leucath does possess some curves where it counts and doesn’t run heavy despite how tight everything seems to be on her. That’s all just muscle! Her wings seem to match that compact feel of her just right and while she might not ever be able to carry more than a few, she’s got strength in spades despite her appearance, for a short time at least.
Somehow she always winds up covered in some sort of dirt or sand or anything that one might consider gross. No Leucath doesn’t at all remember rolling in it, it just happened this way! It dulls the color of her hide and as a growing dragon she’ll need as many baths and oilings as she can get to keep from damaging her growing hide. Personality: Warmth seems to radiate in the air around Leucath’s small form, beckoning all those around her to come close and even lean on her should they need to. In fact she would love for them to do just that, to the little green it’s only the polite thing to do when others need assistance or a place to relax. She’d welcome all of High Reaches onto her ledge to relax and unwind, always having a bit of a story to tell them helps as well. Of course she makes it a point to never tell gossip that would hurt another dragon or human’s feelings, if she can help it, Leucath is a terrible gossip about things going on in the Weyr. If she could she’d be in the center of all of it, but since she can’t she gladly swaps back and forth with others when catching up and if she could she’d allow the whole Weyr to come to her ledge or talk to her wherever they might be.
Therein lies her problem with all the gossip that she hears, Leucath can be a touch indiscreet with things that others relay to her if they haven’t told her it was a secret. It’s not that she means to spill any beans, be they negative or positive or otherwise even boring, it’s just that she hears so many things and tells so many others gossip and stories that she doesn’t know when to stop and it simply… leaks right out of her? She’ll apologize to the moons and back to the one offended and while she doesn’t promise that it’ll never happen again she certainly does her best when she can help it. In truth if one tells her a secret she’s an iron box of silence in regards to it, for she holds secrets about herself back from others as best she can as well, secrets about her rider and all those she loves. Not everyone gets to know what she’s up to or what’s going on with her and those that do are lucky indeed, for that means they’re the closest to her hearts.
Should one be close to her they’ll always know that they have someone at their back, a steady force of comfort and relaxed ease that somehow always manages to be one of the hardest workers around. Though she is incredibly relaxed in her life, in her own skin and around others, she doesn’t allow herself to become so relaxed that she’s a slacker. No, no, no, Leucath is determined and will see a job through until the very end regardless of what it is. She knows full well that threadfall started again and it was what she was born to fight, never wanting to deviate away from that path in life, so she does all she can to live up to her existence. The green knows her place and that’s what matters in her life, it’s the reason she’s so laid-back about everything with others and the reason why if one is close to her they’ll know she’ll stop at nothing to keep them safe or get them what they want.
Additional Notes: Soft things, oh all the soft things. Her rider might find they need to throw a few blankets and pillows out onto her ledge lest Leucath slowly steal them all from both his and others weyrs to make a hoard. Like sleeping on a cloud! She’ll be certain to offer them, as any good hostess would, to those that come and visit but they are all hers
Because of her muscle or maybe just how hardheadedly stubborn she is about finishing a task or duty, the little green has stamina in droves and pushes it just a bit too hard if not watched. During threadfall she’ll last and last, needing reminded to come down so she doesn’t overdo it too badly, and during flights she’ll sail into the sky until her wings literally will not continue to beat.
ocelotocelotocelotocelot ▊▊Threadfall Stats °
Burning Aces J’emi of Green Leucath HP: 20 Status Effect: N/A XP: Target Accuracy: 5 Flame Length: 4 General Stamina: 5 General Agility: 4 Between Accuracy: 4 Pain Resilience: 5 Instinct: 4 Luck: 5
Posted: Mon Jul 06, 2020 12:29 am
Name: Ralnaf Age: 21 Nameday: 3555.1 - Does not know day Sex: Male Sexual Orientation: Humans (Not always one at a time) Weyr: Western Weyr Rider Rank: Junior Weyrling Previous Rank/Craft:: Fisher Craft (Ship Builder) Voice:X ~ Eret/How To Train Your Dragon 3 Song:Hagal ~ Wardruna Physical Description: Tall, wraith thin, and made of what seems to be water itself(Something comical for a man that can only float), Ralnaf is certainly more a liquid than a human being. Despite standing above many at 6'5", he has a terrible tendency to stand hunched or squatted down in an almost predatory feline manner, always watching the world around him through darkly painted gray eyes. Maybe in an effort to spook those around him, maybe to hide his real face from the world, his face is almost always painted in some manner. Sometimes just the eyes, sometimes a skull covers his face, other times only half his face. This mixed with his dark and wild hair that fluctuates between shortly spiked and crazy grown out and unkempt gives Ralnaf a look that makes it hard for others to take him seriously.
That's their mistake. But his hyena style laugh and wicked grin don’t really help either. Personality: Curiously intelligent and always willing to learn as much as he can to understand the world around him, Ralnaf views the world as a place that can always teach him more. At one time it used to make him a better ship builder, always learning new things and adapting to what the needs would be. It's his attentiveness to details and the little things that happen all around him that that helps him to learn so quickly. With eyes full of wonder and curiosity he watches everything and does morph it into something constructive with his time. Most anything that he's seen can turn into an intricate design on a boat or a piece of wood to whittle since coming to the Weyr and he’s nothing if not proud of his creations and work. His curiosity and intelligence tend to lead him towards being a bit compulsive about reaching out to the world around him, especially when it's a brand new encounter. If he wants it, Ralnaf'll reach for it, if it intrigues him he'll take part or watch with interest to learn how it works. These tendencies can get him in trouble with others, as he generally uses that compulsive behavior in a trickster manner to spook or startle others about him.
With all of his eccentricities, from his behavior to the way that he moves in an almost feline manner, others tend to give him a wide berth which could be why he began his trickster habits in the first place. They hide his temper and the anger that simmers beneath it from view, for it doesn’t take much to flare the flames of his fury, anyone speaking or acting out against family or friends will meet the cynic within him for Ralnaf trusts no one so much as those closest to him. He’s borne witness to people’s worst sides and only allows a select few close to him, those few will be given every speck of loyalty in his heart though, for to the gangly man they’re an extension of his family. As such he would do whatever it took to protect them and his home, though over the turns ‘home’ has changed quite a bit, he’s quite fluid with his ideas of it.
Positive Trait List Intelligent, Attentive, Joyful, Loyal, Proud Negative Trait List Compulsive behavior, Cynical, Quickly angered, Trickster, Eccentric
History:
“Pirates” is a strong word that Ralnaf’s parents and older siblings were never incredibly fond of. The whole ship full of them would often argue that they were perfectly law abiding traders. All the time. Mostly.
It was into this family and on the first ship of his life that Ralnaf cut his teeth and fell in love with all things water and wood. For the first few turns he simply waddled around the deck of the ship, watching his family, doing what they told him to do even if it was begrudging and all those that checked the ‘validity’ of cargo and such were viewed with cautious eyes that learned the way of the world quicker than they would have on the land, for certain. While it didn’t seem that he would have any other sort of life, even as he grew into his pre-teens, it was one of his older sisters that noticed his skill with woodcraft and made a suggestion that would change his life at the next port.
Tillek.
His parents couldn’t have chosen a more restrictive hold to drop their playful and tricky son at, but in his sister’s eyes he was going to make a fantastic ship builder and somehow his parents agreed despite his arguments. It would be the last time he saw their ship or any of them, though to date Ralnaf has vowed to find all of them again, not believing them to be fully gone since there were no better sailors or rivermen than his family. At least in his not so humble opinion. With the agreement of the Fishercraft hall, he was bundled into his lessons and life seemed to spring anew with the first bit of wood that they sat in front of him. It all started there, with the intricate cuts that he made, the twisting designs. However designs and whittling have very little to do with ship building and the real work started on the heels of his pride finally rushing through him.
Apprenticeship was never a cake-walk but the speed at which the increasingly scruffy and tall teen learned to make boats and ships was nothing short of impressive to his masters and the Journeyman that taught him. Over the course of his time as an apprentice, Ralnaf made many boats and ships that went on to sail both river and sea, some even outlasting him as boats used to train new rivermen. For despite his skill with shipbuilding, a new opportunity that even the man obsessed with ships and wood couldn’t turn down.
A man on a bright blue dragon swooped into Tillek and changed everything, offering the ultimate chance, the opportunity to ride on the back of a dragon. Only just dipping his toes into his twenties, he figured that he could return should he fail to make an Impression on any sort of dragon, for who might want a wild creature like himself?, Ralnaf agreed.
Little did he know what he might be getting himself into with the rules and changes in the nature of his everyday schedule. Ralnaf went from crafting boats and ships with wild abandon, or as much as Tillek would allow him, and about faced to mopping and sweeping and cleaning and caring for others, things he hadn’t done since he was young. While he accepted this as the way of his life now, the thing he’d chosen and walked into, he kept his eyes open and wide to learn from it with no expectations for what might happen. He was a teen after all, at the time.
Those days spent doing what chores he had and what lessons he needed to learn, a vast variety that he certainly hadn’t expected but wouldn’t look down on by any means, taught him more than he expected and he soaked it up. Each time he stood on the sands he learned a little more from mistakes and scars earned during those times, both at Western Weyr and High Reaches Weyr. It wasn’t until his twenty first turn that Ralnaf got a surprise on the sands at Western when an explosive little brown burst from his egg and zipped around the candidates on the sand, hoping to meet them all, hoping to see each face. It was his introduction to the world after all, or so he told Ralnaf the moment he could when he sat before him and trilled up a song that brought on rainbows to his eyes. A mischievous smile crossed Ralnaf’s face.
“Welcome to Pern, Nizaruth.”
Name: Nizaruth Age: 1 Color: Brown Size: 62' Voice:X ~ Dipper Pines/Gravity Falls Song:Riot ~ Three Days Grace Physical Description: On the slight side both length and muscle wise for a brown, Nizaruth is slim and delicate looking with big wings. His head knobs are bowed inward as if they might touch one another and his feet are a bit bigger than average compared to the rest of him, which makes him look a bit awkward but in the air his flexibility and flying almost make up for it all.
Nizaruth wiggles himself around with excitement in an almost canine manner. His expressive movements can give away any of his emotions nearly as much as his eyes and he hides nothing for the sake of others.
Personality: From his eyes to his body language to the positions he takes, Nizaruth is a giant flying rainbow of emotions, not all of them so good. He can be a brimming ball of happiness and joy but when something vexes him he’ll twist into a frustrating storm of anger. This will be something His will need to work on him with, for emotions could get him into trouble or betray his true thoughts. Not that he hides them from anyone unless his rider asks him to, Nizaruth sees no need or reason to, what has the brown got to hide after all? Not a thing. He’s a brave dragon with courage that oozes from him, if he sees something wrong he’ll do all he can to fix it, to help those that need him. If one would need him to stand up to someone or something he’s there in the beat of his two hearts and he’ll never let them see how frightened or hurt he may be in the process of the fallout.
For he can be hurt, but the only one he’ll allow to see his bruises and pains are his rider, the only one that knows him from head to tail and he’ll hide all his insecurities and pains within their bond. Admittedly they are few, but the sensitive sides of him can be wounded with actions and words for brief times, only to be seemingly burned away by his immense energy. Nizaruth can go and go and go and never stop, he’ll find energy in the tip of a claw to keep himself going long after others around him have quit. While he might need held back a little as his energy can go claw in claw with his emotions, generally he does his best to not bowl others over with it. Which if anyone is honest, is never quite enough of an effort.
Ladies might rise all around him but he won’t be interested in chasing or catching unless there’s an emotional aspect to his doing so, a connection. Only certain greens might stir his hearts and only then he might pursue for hope of catching a lady who holds a spot in his hearts. Golds… well he can curl up in their shadows and the best that might happen is he looks at them as a mother.
Hattaki Crew
Lonely Phantom
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Hattaki Crew
Lonely Phantom
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Posted: Mon Jul 06, 2020 12:34 am
Name: Suyua Age: 16 Nameday: 3560.2.12 Sex: Female Sexual Orientation: Hmmmm… Craft: Apprentice Dolphin Handler Rank: Candidate Location: High Reaches Voice:X ~ Tsuyu Asui/BNHA Song:I Need A Friend ~ James Arthur Physical Description: Despite being rather short, Suyua has hands and feet that seem to be just a bit too large for her and a generally stooped posture despite herself. She can stand up straighter when she desires to, but generally this and the way she keeps her arms in closer to her body than usual people give her an odd look. Near black eyes peer deadpan-like out of a broad face with a wide mouth prone to smiling, her long jet black hair almost always has a green-ish sheen to it thanks to dye, and her expression only changes should she be in danger or inner turmoil.
Preferring more movement friendly clothing, she opts for anything that will keep her warm as she despises the cold, but also has something swim worthy on beneath it at all times. For one just never knows, even so far away from the dolphins she was training with, when they might need to get wet. Personality: “Someday that mouth of hers will get her in trouble.” This was not something her father said often because she was crude in any way, but because Suyua’s bluntness often has her sticking her foot square into her wide mouth. It isn’t that she intends to cause others harm or make them angry, just that she’ll point out the most obvious thing and it doesn't help that she’s very good at catching on in situations where others might hold something back. No, she figures these things out quickly and has no shame in pointing them out. It might come as a foul side to how straightforward she is, never being one to hide anything about herself or anything in her life, but she holds nothing as a secret. It makes life a little less complicated that way and a bit easier for her to navigate. Ask her a question, she’ll answer it in the most honest way possible, even if it hurts your feelings in the process.
In fact should someone be doing something foolish or that breaks a rule in any way, she doesn’t hesitate in being harsh. Even for harshness sake, she’ll all but slap someone in the face with her words should she think they need it, heedless in the moment of how it might hurt their feelings or change their opinion of her. Of course she’s not doing it to be cruel, in fact in her own way it’s to try and help them most often, even if the person in question doesn’t feel it at the time and this causes her some guilt afterwards to be certain. She does have regret in spades should she hurt a friend or loved one, for all she wants to do is support them and make them their best self. Lifting others up is what she does best in life most often, helping by being an extra set of hands or in lessons with something she might have known she’ll do her best to teach it. She’s always looking for a way to help others even if it’s just with a kind word where they need it, despite her bluntness she can actually be sweet when needed.
It’s the turns of maturity she developed by taking care of her siblings and helping the creche workers in her Hold that made her this way. Suyua experienced it first hand and grew from there, always balancing her own responsibilities with the care of her siblings and managing to keep the two divided so that they didn’t conflict or interfere with one another very often. This helped her develop into the well adjusted teenager bordering on adult that she was even before she hit her teens. It made for a bit of a lonely existence though, balancing the two like an act so well left her little time for her own needs and desires, which seemed to center the most on friendships and contacts. Naturally she sought to remedy this but it only made her a little more lonely when she realized that some of it fell back onto her own shoulders, why others might not want to be friends with her.
Quirks become her and she seems to be made of them. From her posture and expression to the odd way she answers in one word responses that seem to have nothing to do with the conversation, to her obsessive love of water and rain, Suyua is a strange person certainly. When excited she’ll hop a bit in place and when talking her fingers tend to be near her mouth, this can also happen when she’s pondering an answer or riddle. This has a habit of pushing others away from her since they view her as an oddball. Despite these strange quirks and any harshness she might snap towards others, the teen truly is as laid back as they come. Nothing seems to break her personal calm very often and she certainly knows how to kick back when the situation calls for it, even if her eyes are wide open in case someone should need help.
Positive Trait List Straightforward, Laid Back, Mature, Supportive Negative Trait List Blunt, Harsh, Lonely, Quirky
History:
Eldest born daughter of two fisherman, Suyua would wait six turns before she’d ever see a sibling and this while on and off at the creche thanks to her parents crafts making them a bit absent. No one wants a baby on a ship at sea after all! Or at least her’s didn’t. She wasn’t at all fussed by this upbringing and by the time her third sibling came along she was watching them actively by herself, even taking it upon herself to cook for them after watching the crecheworkers cook for turns while she was there. Suyua wanted to help and with the effort she could put forth, she was able to do so to an extent. With her diligence and attention towards her siblings and what she was doing to learn and help the crecheworkers, she didn’t tend to think of very much else or give herself the time to become friends with anyone. Even among the other children of the creche she didn’t give herself the opportunity to get that close, to form any of those connections and once she was old enough to realize, it became apparent that it was far too late to rectify.
Though lonely, Suyua continued on with life, did the best that she could and made an impression on the workers and holders around her, even if she didn’t have friends, she had those she could talk to. At the time it made all the difference. However it also affected what happened when the time came for her to choose where she would go herself. Having no desire to be a crecheworker herself, it was indeed her parents that suggested the course that she would begin walking and they themselves that helped her get there.
To a totally different continent even.
Rubicon River Hold on the Southern Continent welcomed her with open arms into the Dolphineer Craft and it felt as though she was officially coming home. While she loved her family and missed them deeply Suyua dove into her apprenticeship head first and even things about her personality began to change, her habits. Every day she would wear clothing fit for swimming under her outer clothing, ready to hop in the water any second for any job that someone might need her for. The dolphins were lovely and gave her something new to focus on as she navigated her training and for once began to come out of her shell, just a tad, to try and make her first friend.
One girl that seemed to have lived a life similar to her own, work and duty before friendship, struck it up with Suyua and they became fast friends, even if it was all too brief an experiment for both of them. The girl was Searched by a Weyr and suddenly Suyua was once again without a friend and her nerves a bit frayed from the abruptness of her first friend’s departure, maybe that was why it was such an overwhelming event when she herself was suddenly Searched as well. After having just gotten used to the Hold she was in and the apprenticeship she had chosen, with some help, the teen wasn’t sure she would even make a good Candidate and nearly declined the offer entirely. A kind journeyman pulled her aside to talk to her before she could answer and informed her of the opportunity and chance she was about to turn down, of the chances that she might be missing. Thread had returned after all and Pern needed riders.
The hard worker within her couldn’t refuse that and she accepted, whisked away to High Reaches Weyr to study and stand as a Candidate.
Posted: Mon Aug 03, 2020 1:12 am
Name: Sonnaden Age: 26 Nameday: 3550.5.11 Sex: Female Sexual Orientation: Lesbian Craft: If applicable. Rank: Candidate Location: Western Weyr Physical Description: Tall and broad, Sonnaden is made of solid muscle and is extremely athletic. Her 5’10” height might not tower over others but with her frame alone she can certainly fill a room up if she tries. Shock blonde hair curls about her head if not restricted into a ponytail and stormy gray eyes often glare out from under her wispy curls of bangs in a face that’s usually set to either unamused or serious expressions. Thanks to the sunlight her skin is tanned but pales very quickly when she spends any time indoors at all, only her numerous scars, one on her cheek, many on her shoulders, back and stomach and a few on her arms stay the same color. When she’s tannest they pop and stand out.
Her hands, knuckles especially, and lower arms are webs of deep and light intermingling scars. While many have asked for the explanation she has yet to give one for them, though the other scars from her mother’s abuse have been touched on, the woman isn’t keen on letting others close enough to figure out her past and the scars that came with it.
Despite her scars, tank tops and pants are her clothing of choice, with sensible boots and no sense of fashion to be found in her. If she’s forced she might wear a shirt over the tank top for the sake of others and she’ll don her candidate’s robes when the occasion calls for it, but Sonna dislikes restrictive garb.
Personality: Ask Sonnaden the best way to perform a task or succeed at doing something and she knows half a dozen tricks to get the person to their goal, each of them seemingly specialized and learned from doing. While she still refuses to talk about her time in Bitra, it appears to all those that know her that she wasn’t simply lazing about the streets and alleys. No, she knows how to cause others pain physically and with tools, how to distract others, how to do just about anything that involves her hands and craftsmanship that isn’t fine. She can use tactics to get her what she wants or what others want and her mind always thinks about five steps ahead of those around her, spinning stories or figuring out the best way to escape or evade situations. Even if it’s just a path to navigate away from people at a feast so she doesn’t have to talk. She’s resourceful if nothing else and while no one may ever call her a true craftsman, she can make use of things at her disposal and create things she needs within reason. Part of the reason she’s so good at what she does is that she feels the need to hone skills in order to protect those she loves. She never had that before her father rescued her, they were simply skills she acquired to survive, but now when she uses them they have a purpose. At Western Weyr at least there is very little protecting she needs to do, but she none-the-less will flex her nature when needed, even if it just means she needs to stand behind her sister or her newly discovered half brother silently and glare daggers at anyone giving them trouble.
Really she’d rather do that then jump in and fight their battles for them, for she’s not so great when it comes to words. She speaks eloquently enough when she does talk, but most of the time she’d rather respond with a grunt or a gruff noise rather than deal with others. Sonnaden’s abrasive at the best of times when something needs tact and explanation, she’d rather get to the point of the whole situation and ordeal than talk for hours about something, even if it’s important that she do. She’d just cut the conversation short or end it entirely, at least if she had her way. It stems from wanting to keep people at arm’s length as best she can. Sonna doesn’t want to explain her feelings or allow others to come in contact with them if she can help it. Nearly ten turns of dealing with her mother taught her that she couldn’t show them and to hold them within herself. In fact she was so adept at hiding her emotions that her facial expressions still tend to betray very little unless she forces herself to. A mind healer and time were the only things that got her to open up to her family at the Weyr and let them in, friendship is even harder for her and she has precious few of them.
Which is almost a shame, because underneath all the issues and the distant gruff outer exterior is an empathetic person that can completely understand where others are coming from and the pain that they might be experiencing. If she can, though she does so rarely, she can actually put others at ease in her presence, just by showing them that she cares. For anyone close to her she’s a rock to lean against, a sympathetic listener who won’t offer any convoluted plans for them to ‘help’ whatever is wrong. No, Sonnaden usually just listens without judgement and without pressure. While she would obviously enjoy happy people more, she is always there for those having a hard time, for she knows what it’s like to live that life and does want to help. Faranth help those that wrong her or those she cares about though, for her ability to hold a grudge may just be unmatched on Pern. She’s harbored a grudge for her own mother for her entire life and refuses to release that anger that has stewed within her. They say that holding onto anger only burns one from the inside out, but Sonnaden does not care. Wrong her and you’ll know the full wrath of her anger just being in her presence.
Positive Trait List Protective, Empathetic, Tactical Negative Trait List Distant, Gruff, Grudgeful
History:
Her mother, a twisted trickster wrapped in a beautiful package, gave birth to her thanks to a brown rider from Western Weyr and Sonnaden spent the next seven terrible turns in Black Sands being “raised” by her mother. Abuse was common, lying was even more so, especially when her father came to visit the pair of them. Sonna learned very quickly that keeping herself quiet about anything her mother did to her was smarter, because the pain afterwards would be even worse if she tried to mention it. In fact if she tried to mention it to anyone the reaction was the same. Maybe that was the reason her mother removed her from her father’s sight, maybe that’s why suddenly her mother “fell in love” with what her daughter thought was a passing sailor. She didn’t realize that they’d be leaving.
But leave they did.
With some time at sea that passed even more violently than her time at Black Sands did, Sonnaden found herself in Bitra, though she was so young at the time she still barely remembers how it happened all the turns later. All she remembers is that life got infinitely worse. With no one to care about her general wellbeing, that opened up a whole lot of time for the girl to disappear and do what she wanted. And do what she wanted was exactly how she viewed her life, freedom was open but it came with terrible consequences. No one knows exactly what they were or what happened to the young girl in the turns between arriving in Bitra and when her father N’den suddenly appeared after tracking she and her now deceased mother down, but her personality had changed entirely during that time and the scarred child was someone new.
Whisked away from Bitra and to the safety of Western Weyr, it was there that she discovered an older half sister and was never free of the interfering fussing from that moment on. Transitioning from being abused to being loved and accepted wasn’t what Sonna was expecting and her reactions to the attentions others gave her showed it plainly. When her father or sister would reach out to her with any sort of physical contact she would flinch away, at least at first. While it would take turns and turns of reconditioning to be comfortable with the contact of others, she at least began to accept their fussing and interfering better with time. Her first official home at Western was with Bionden and her mother Bionic, it was with their gentle love nd respect that she began to open up at last, but her sister stepped into candidacy only a turn later and Sonnaden was placed in the creche. With four turns she entered into candidacy alongside her sister, having grown some in the process.
Twelve turns and many clutches seemed to pass by in the blink of an eye, prompting Sonnaden to begin to explore other options for when she eventually would age out in four years. Nothing has quite caught her eye yet, but her free time is filled with exploration now more than ever, for she can’t simply fight her way through life and becoming a drudge certainly appears daunting to her. Being generally skilled in many things as she is, the woman didn’t think she’d have any trouble finding a particular field to excel in, however she seems to be a master of nothing in particular while being decent at quite a bit.
Now’s the time to figure out what she’s really skilled in, while she still has a few turns left.
ocelotocelotocelotocelot ▊▊Important People °
Soriel - Mother - npc deceased N’den - Father - magna B’den - Older Sister - magna Raiden - Younger Brother - Symm
Hattaki Crew
Lonely Phantom
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Hattaki Crew
Lonely Phantom
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Posted: Fri Dec 18, 2020 5:38 am
Name: Sapheria Age: 23 Nameday: 3553.13.9 Sex: Female Sexual Orientation: Bisexual Craft: Journeyman Courtesan Rank: Candidate Location: Western Weyr Physical Description: The first thing that most people see of Sapheria is the long scar that travels from her hairline above her right eye and down through her eyebrow and over her left eye. To her luck she didn’t lose the eye when she received the scar, but her blue eyes tend to look sad and her expressions only veer away from such an emotion when she’s working. Permanent sadness seems to overtake her whole face, eyebrows perpetually pulled in and up. Her pale skin is actually more resilient than it appears and she gets quite a lot of sun, so much that her hair seems to be paler towards the top of her head and a darker shade of brown towards the ends near her hips. She leaves it down most of the time and it seems to add some size to her otherwise slim form, though with it being down it does nothing to help her sleight height, for Sapheria barely grazes five feet.
Like some courtesans, she feels most comfortable in a dress and her dancing is far easier when wearing one, for pants and shirts can make her feel claustrophobic. Still, all clothes have a purpose and she wears whatever she needs for the situation. However unlike other courtesans, maybe because of the scar that requires her to wear makeup should she be putting on a performance, Sapheria dislikes being constantly focused on her looks and how others perceive her, which can result in her sometimes appearing a bit tomboyish when she’s having a lazy day.
Personality: Diplomacy in all things, Sapheria knows how to navigate the twisted world of political tensions as well as how to play her part in them. Which is not to say she’d prefer to have a part in them, but she understands it at least and is professional with her demeanor, with how she holds herself. Her quiet perceptiveness picks up on nearly everything around her and she adjusts accordingly to the emotions of those near her and those she’s interacting with. If she needs to. That doesn’t stop her own issues from leaking through of course, her insecurities sometimes make her second guess what she’s picked up on from others, make her question everything that she knows and every bit of her own emotional intelligence. As a result Sapheria commonly second guesses herself when she knows full well that she’s not wrong, hesitating and sometimes missing her cues and letting a moment pass her by. The young woman beats herself up about this worse than any master might, but that didn’t keep past masters from reprimanding her all the same.
This only made it worse of course and when it became too much there were times that she’d press back against it and outright rebel. It’s hard to keep one’s emotions perfect for every situation all the time and even Sapheria can’t do it all the time. She’ll buck up against some of the more stringent rules and even though she does it quietly in public it doesn’t stop it from happening or stop the inevitable repercussions but as it generally is her appearance that she’s rebelling with, more recent occurrences have allowed her to get away with things. Her habit of gambling and drinking is a much wilder rebellion that happens rarely, it should be noted, but often enough that she endeavors to hide them. Outside of her rebellions she is quite calm and relaxed, always with an easy smile or a relaxed word to those that might need it, she doesn’t jump when frightening, tense, or even dangerous things happen, rather she assesses her situation and reacts with whatever needs done. There’s no melodrama or overreaction from her and though at times her calmness can come off as stern it’s never meant to be rude or mean. Rather, she just doesn’t accept hysteria no matter the situation and would rather remove herself from it if she can.
Her own flaws keep her from judging others even if she doesn’t like to deal with that sort of thing, one of which is how desperately she clings to those people and things that bring her comfort. Sapheria’s mother was a constant in her life once she was adopted but the woman made decisions for her safety that she herself might not have made and being ripped away from the sister she idolized as a child and wanted to befriend had lasting consequences. She’ll cling tightly onto those that allow her to, going above and beyond to help them if she can in any small way. However if people should set up boundaries that she herself does not have she tends to respond in passive aggressive forms of protest to this, whether it’s putting the person down or making snide remarks, or even going so far as to act the part, Sapheria always feels terrible afterwards. She’d been taught for so long not to show visible anger that she can’t manage it currently and it seeps through in more passive but slightly insidious forms despite her best efforts, even towards those she loves. It’s not shocking with this clingy nature that she’s loyal, but it tends to be less negative and a bit more healthy. When Sapheria feels safe somewhere or beholden to a place or people she is fierce about her loyalty, so help those that are rude towards her beloved home or loved ones, her tongue and wit are razor sharp.
Cruelty existed long before thread, no one knew this more than Sapheria who’s parents' lives disappeared in a flash of silver, who was thrown out into the streets of her small hold, who was forgotten. The woods were no place for children, even back then, but luckily for the small child there was some kindness to be found in the arms of others. The other was a woman named Jacira, not a widow but rather a single mother with a daughter five turns older than herself. She had been alone for months prior, eating whatever was left over, picking meat from bones and running away like a wild creature when an adult would raise a voice; as such she had become unaccustomed to soft voices and kindness, didn’t know how to react to Jacira reaching out to her. The first time she ran, the next she simply stared at the woman until she was coaxed into holding out her hand and walking hand in hand with her.
Home, or something like it, so she thought. So she wanted. Having never had an older sibling she didn’t realize what was boiling until it was far too late, holding only awe and respect for Niviora. She watched her sister, shadowed her, hoping that maybe she would be able to earn herself the sister she wanted by doing the things her sister liked, instead she watched the older girl fight until her Jacira became angry. Sapheria had never seen Jacira angry until that point, had only ever seen love and compassion from her mother, but there was fear under the anger, she picked up on it. Internalizing it she quietly would watch the two as they practiced their craft, her awe in her older sister growing slowly as she showed such skill with dancing and it was because of that, Sapheria made a mistake.
She began to train with her mother as well and she didn’t realize that what Niviora saw was her mother loving Sapheria more, it didn’t occur to her in the least. In fact she’d started to become comfortable enough thinking of the two as family that she slipped and called Jacira mother, not realizing in the moment. Her sister, furious and hurt, lashed out, punching her in the face so that she fell into the table and blood covered her face from the new gash that had been carved from her hairline down over her eye. It would scar, but while it was fresh in the night came the worst of things. Jacira, panicked and afraid, decided that they could no longer live with Niviora if she was going to be so violent and while Sapheria only wanted to sleep, her mother only wanted to run. And run they did, to Western Hold, far away from the smaller hold she’d only ever known.
The separation from the older sister she’d adored and always wanted changed something within her and violence, the same violence that her mother had taken her away from bubbled over within her. Sapheria, skilled at dancing with her agile, if small, form took to fighting as a way to let out her frustration and being skilled at it just made her all the angrier. If only she’d known how to when Niviora punched her, if only she’d been able to dodge or move out of the way, then things might not have ended as they had. The girl took everything out on those who would let her, some even that wouldn’t. Her hands were covered in cuts and bruises, bleeding at times when she would come home, all to the horror of her mother who had such plans. Such grand plans. She was of age though and that was all that it took to get her away from the environment that she was creating for herself with the mindset and violence she’d fallen into as if it were second nature. It was the Courtesan Hall accepting her, at her mother’s insistence that she go there, that saved her from breaking entirely apart and that set her back on a path with a goal. Sapheria claims it was a mix of her mother and the hall that cleaned her hands, so to speak, but the dance she began learning helped to her to realize she could work out her frustrations that way as well, even if it was far more nuanced than the blind rageful brawling she’d been taking part in for weeks prior.
The next change in her personality developed during her time training as a Courtesan and though not overly dramatic as it had been with the loss of her family and then sister, Sapheria channeled all of her energy and anger and shortcomings into becoming the best that she could be. The hall didn’t want any of her anger, rather they’d taken her based on a mix of her appearance and loyalty that they saw in her and her masters wrung any other flaw out of her until there was only her scar to cover up. In their hands she became calm and perceptive, able to pick up nuances in those around her be they a diplomat or customer and use them to her advantage. Her leadership skills began to shine through as time would pass and her conduct was always impeccable. It wasn’t a shock to her masters that she was able to walk the tables to Journeyman by the time she was twenty one, a person entirely changed, a woman that made her mother incredibly proud and Jacira certainly showed it.
Spending the next two turns in different holds doing whatever the Hall asked her to in the face of the tumult that came with thread's return made the young woman begin to chafe just a bit and her more rebellious side would occasionally peak through when her time was free. Though it wasn’t often enough for her, Sapheria whisked herself out to do things that she wanted, gambling and drinking and having a good time, but only in the darkest parts of night and only in certain holds where she believed she could be hidden. It was on one of these nights, a flagon of alcohol in one hand and a grin on her unpainted face that she came face to face with a rider from Western, a rider that spent the rest of the night talking to her. A rider she left with come sunrise.
She’s just arrived as a candidate and life at the Weyr is not what she was expecting.
Name: Belia
