Name: Lyfrocier Age: 22 Nameday: 3554.01.02 Sex: Male Sexual Orientation: Bisexual Status: ??? Craft: Courtesan - clothing designer specialization. Rank: Journeyman Location: Western Weyr
Physical Description: Tall, athletic, and well-built, Lyfrocier looks far more like the kind of man who'd be accustomed to physical labor as opposed to his former craft. At roughly 6'4", he's already got plenty of presence on his own, but the way he carries himself makes him appear to loom over others without much effort at all. For all his size, though, Lyf isn't particularly strong at all, and instead excels in more dexterous areas than anything else; as a result, he moves with a sort of dancer's grace, and maintains a kind of poise that gives him a regal air. His features are strong and distinctive, with a prominent nose, equally pronounced cheekbones, and a near-perpetual scowl topped off with heavy eyebrows for a decidedly displeased expression. He has a well-trimmed beard, kept short and clean, and wears round glasses that would give him something of an adorable, owlish quality, were the rest of him not so harsh. His eyes are a dark brown, and his tightly-curled hair is a deep brown-black, save for one shock of white just above his right ear due to a birthmark that stretches to the corner of his eye in a similarly bleached patch that stands out against his dark skin. Usually, Lyf keeps his hair tied back in a utilitarian bun from which nothing is permitted to escape, and he only rarely fusses with any kind of beads or accessories in it.
Personality: For all his frowning and looming, Lyfrocier is actually a very carefully measured man, with little seeming to make any ripples on his surface. He appears to take everything in stride, provided it’s nothing that directly affects him, and often serves as a near-glacial force of balance in stressful situations. When under fire, Lyf is highly skilled at maintaining his composure, keeping his head above water until every bit of the problem has either passed or has been resoundingly dealt with. He tends to respond to these issues with the same calmness, although he’s shown himself to have plenty of bite to him should he finally be pushed far enough--he’s not exactly a forgiving man, and while the first instance of this type of thing will be met with a cool hand, if it resurfaces past that, he responds with far more harshness and finality. He’s not against giving people a chance to prove him wrong, but he has his limits, of course.
As opposed to many social matters, he finds his stride in the pursuit of knowledge. Lyf has a particularly voracious intellect, and one of his few joys is the study of--well, honestly, whatever he finds intriguing at the time. Anything that catches his interest doesn’t so much attract it as it does completely devour it. When Lyf finds something to focus on, he throws every bit of his intellect and attention into learning about it, picking it apart and discovering every intricate nook and cranny there is to find. As a result, he’s surprisingly knowledgeable about a variety of (debatably useful) topics, but when it comes to things that don’t really captivate him, he finds it difficult to keep his attention where it belongs. In some ways, this tendency branches out to cover the people he interacts with as well--if he finds someone intriguing, he’ll hang on their every word (in a way that he hopes isn’t too terribly obvious, of course), but if they come across as dull or uninspired? He can hardly wait to be finished with this conversation.
Lyfrocier knows how to navigate most social situations quite well, provided they’re in a formal setting or at least have some guise of it. When placed in a strictly casual environment, however, he flounders more often than not, and will find any reason he can think of to leave before he makes an utter fool of himself. He’s set himself up to project a very specific image, and if he isn’t completely sure he can pull that off, he’d almost rather not try. He’s unfortunately rather pessimistic, especially when it comes to his own view of himself, but anything more than brief glimpses of how bad it truly is under everything else is highly unlikely. Lyf doesn’t really know how to handle deeper emotional connections, and while he’s not completely sure that he wants to isolate himself in every way possible, he’s just clueless on how to talk to people on a genuinely personal level.
Unsurprisingly, given his nearly complete lack of optimism and how easily he fixates on matters, Lyf tends to go over his own failures again and again, particularly if they were major setbacks of some kind. Although he also tends to blow these mistakes far out of proportion, there is a bit of a purpose to these over-exaggerated views of what happened: self-review. Lyf is constantly looking over everything that makes him him, analyzing his existence with just as critical an eye as the one he takes to his fashion designs. What is deemed acceptable is kept, and even expanded upon--whatever isn't, however, will be excised as quickly as possible. Unfortunately, this results in quite a lot of bottling things up, especially if they're distasteful traits or memories that he'd rather not engage with; at his absolute worst moments when his composure finally cracks, all of these unsightly things come spilling out, much to his disgust. It's at these rare times when others can finally get a good glimpse of all the things Lyfrocier tries to hide, as well as some of the internal mechanisms that keep his near-clockwork facade going, and he utterly despises that kind of vulnerability. He considers his restraint to be one of his best features, and the fact that he's (supposedly) able to keep all the less-than-pleasant bits of himself out of the public view is a testament to that--in the same vein, however, he also places far too much importance on these smothered traits, blowing them far out of proportion in his own head. He’s very critical of himself and his own actions, and will pick what he’s done apart until he feels that there isn’t anything more he can say on the subject. Usually, this takes months.
He hates showing weakness of any kind, and is usually far too proud to dare ask for help. As a result, he keeps a bit of a wall between himself and others, not wanting to open the door for any deeper interactions that might result in anything unpleasant escaping; this almost exclusively applies to his own emotions, and any more ‘genuine’ displays of how he’s feeling are completely considered to be mistakes on his part. Lyfrocier does not in any way like making mistakes, and is often far too hard on himself, especially when what these ‘errors’ on his part usually are--feelings he sees as unbefitting someone of his position. Even though he's currently just a Candidate, he still insists on carrying himself with the same poise and precision as always, and he has no intentions of letting go of that.
Positive Trait List: Attentive, composed, diplomatic, calculating, intelligent. Negative Trait List: Pessimistic, obsessive, proud, self-repressing, headstrong. History: The only son of a minor Holder just outside Western Hold, Lyfrocier has always been used to a well-padded life and high standards. He was raised to hold himself with the grace and dignity befitting his station, and hold his family and Hold above all else--and why wouldn't he? To be a Holder was to be an essential part of Pern, and he fully intended to take up that mantle when it was time. Until then, however, he entered into Courtesan training, at first intending to learn the ways of diplomacy and negotiations; instead, he found his attention caught by something less...well, diplomatic. He had a burning interest in design from the moment he first began studying it, and his decision to pursue it seemed only natural to him. If he wanted to be a respected figure eventually, he'd have to look the part, wouldn't he? And considering the nature of what he'd decided would be his work, Lyf reasoned that he'd pick up plenty of people skills on the way. Negotiations for materials, tactful ways to handle unpleasant designs (and people), maintaining a high quality of work and keeping up his standards--it all made perfect sense to him. His parents, although somewhat confused, provided no opposition; they were more than happy to see their son pursue his own interests, and helped him find the master that he felt would be the best for him.
In this manner, Lyfrocier dedicated himself to his training, quickly showing plenty of promise in his chosen craft. He picked up the majority of his more avant-garde tastes from his first master, and remained a rapt student until it was finally time for him to walk the tables. After becoming a journeyman, Lyfrocier decided to branch out just a tad, spreading his attention a bit beyond the local epicenter of Western Hold itself and into the areas surrounding it. It was in one of his periodic trips in search of just the right fabric for his projects that he ran into someone with a bit more information on him than he would have liked, and Lyf quickly decided that he well and truly hated the overly familiar way the dragonrider talked to him. Unsurprisingly, he didn't respond very pleasantly to the man's attempts at genial conversation, although he didn't have much choice but to deal with him at least a little bit. He was part of a trading caravan that Lyf was trying to do business with, and served as something of a guard; what really threw Lyf for a loop, however, was when the guard asked how his father's dragon was faring.
As things turned out, once all the misunderstandings and short bursts of yelling had died down and were replaced with proper explanations, his father wasn't his father at all, at least not in the biological sense. According to this new information, who he'd known as his uncle, a man who had been practically stricken from the family records for leaving his family in favor of becoming a dragonrider, was in fact the man responsible for his existence--and Lyfrocier didn't like the thought of this one bit. But was it really true? He couldn't easily believe such a claim, but he couldn't simply ask his parents without the conversation veering into explosive conflict, given how touchy the subject of his uncle had always been. So he did what he, in his measured and well-planned wisdom, thought was best: hunt the b*****d down and ask him what his problem was. If he really was his father after all, then he'd left his Hold and family behind, and all for--what, really? Thread was gone. Dragonriders weren't keeping the Hold running, and surely he knew that. Lyf was certainly old enough to set off under the guise of taking a trip to study another designer's work, and with a little finagling through his connections, was able to track him down without too much difficulty.
At the end of it all, he'd come face to face with someone not even remotely like what he'd expected. S'roc was--relaxed, easygoing, and sat proud and unbending upon his Brown, unwavering in the face of Lyfrocier's judgment. After far more arguing than he'd ever admit, not to mention tears, which were the worst possible outcome, he had his answers. They weren't enough to really explain it all, but Lyf was able to build a slightly different picture of his life than what his parents had painted.
S'roc, then simply Syrocelle, had fallen in love with a woman as a young man of 23, going completely head-over-heels for the daughter of a fellow Holder. Their courtship had been brief, but fast--and it wasn't long before they got in over their heads. Together, they had a son--Lyfrocier--and for two and a half Turns, things...went. They both had quickly discovered that they weren't ideal parents, and were terrified of ruining their child's life before it had even properly begun; how would they know that they were doing anything right? Lyfrocier had been an unexpected arrival in the first place, and they had never quite been able to pick up the momentum they felt proper parents should have. After the pair had been approached by a rider with the intention of offering them the mantle of Candidacy at Western Weyr, they weren't terribly sure what they should do--on one hand, the promise of becoming dragonriders was practically a dream come true, and their union had been somewhat scandalous from the start. The Weyr could be a fresh start for them, away from the judgment of Syrocelle's family and the trappings of his status that felt more suffocating than anything else. There was just one thing they had to attend to first, however: the matter of their child. Syrocelle's younger brother had been trying his best for a family for Turns to no avail--children were all that he and his wife had ever wanted, and despite no small amount of effort, they remained childless. After they approached him and his wife and asked the couple to give their son the family he deserved, there had been plenty of arguments to be had with regards to why they were leaving, but Lyf was taken in all the same, and without a second thought at that. It seemed a simple enough solution, really, and had, in fact, worked out quite well by all accounts. Lyfrocier had hardly had reason to complain about his home life, and had grown into a fine young man, although perhaps a touch too tightly-laced; as for S'roc and his love, they hadn't lasted much longer once the pair Impressed and found their hearts lay with their dragons instead of each other. Things ended amicably, but they still ended all the same.
At the end of it all, Lyfrocier was more than stunned, to say the least. S'roc had laid it all out so plainly, as though he had nothing to hide--and really, Lyf didn't think he did. What motive would he have, besides? It was all in the past to him, and that was that. Lyfrocier himself remained unwilling to change much of his own views, though; S'roc wasn't his father, no matter where his parentage truly lay, and he owed this man nothing. His family was waiting for his return, and although he was far from content with the knowledge he now had, he deemed it to be enough for his tastes. But the way S'roc had talked about it all, though--having a dragon, becoming a rider, having a soulmate who truly understood every fiber of your being--it left something of a curious imprint on him in a way he hadn’t anticipated. S'roc's dragon seemed to think he had the makings of a rider in him as well, and Lyfrocier found himself at a crossroads much in the same way S'roc himself had. Surely a little independence wasn't going to be that big of a deal--he'd have to keep it under wraps of course, much like he'd hidden this very visit in the first place, but it would be easy to figure out. His parents trusted him without a doubt, and while going behind their backs for something much more serious than a simple day trip was almost enough to make him balk, Lyf couldn't shake the thought. His doubts were by no means insignificant, and there was a large part of him that simply wanted to turn around and go back to his home, leaving S’roc and his dragonriding in the past where he should have stayed. He did. S’roc was by no means his future, and Lyfrocier had too much to think about to make a rash decision right then and there. He returned to his family and continued his training, throwing himself into his work as he processed everything he’d learned; he kept their meeting a secret, reasoning that it would never come up again.
Months later, however, he was approached again on another outing, this time by a different Searchrider pair. Again, he said no, although--this time, there was more hesitation. The thought that dragonriding had slipped through all of his walls to become something he almost yearned for was difficult to stomach, and Lyfrocier wanted to find a way to smother it as quickly as possible. So, he did what he thought made perfect sense--once again, he took matters into his own hands, and decided he’d go through with it. Just for a short while, enough to whet his appetite and then be done with it. After catching the Searchrider by surprise to try and explain that he'd changed his mind, the gears started turning. He explained the trip to his family as a different posting for his craft, and was sent off with plenty of blessings and fond farewells. As it turned out, that decision had the opposite effect. Much to his chagrin, Lyfrocier found himself steadily growing enraptured with Western Weyr, turning his interest toward what it had to offer. He used it as inspiration for much of his newer designs, something he’d sketch out after he’d finished his lessons for the day, and started to wonder if perhaps this hadn’t been that bad of an idea after all. He’d still come back home once he’d gotten his fill, of course, and is relatively certain that he's doing a good enough job at not getting attached to the Weyr at all. Now, with the news of another clutch on the horizon, he's coming up on his first proper Hatching--and he's a bit more nervous than he'd like to admit.
Other: He's a skilled artist and tailor, and is almost constantly working on some kind of outfit concept. He's very secretive about his designs while they're works in progress, and while he isn't opposed to drafting anything up on commission, if he's going to be making it, he'll generally disappear for a few weeks and then return out of nowhere with what you've asked for. He has a particular fondness for fruit, and would very much like to learn how to bake a really lovely pie with some sometime. In the kitchen, though, he's hopeless.
Name: Guarath Age: 1 Color: Green Status: Unavailable Size: 36'
Origin of Name: From guarapo, the cane sugar used in the creation of mojitos.
Inspiration: Mojito
Mojito (/moʊˈhiːtoʊ/; Spanish: [moˈxito]) is a traditional Cuban highball. Traditionally, a mojito is a cocktail that consists of five ingredients: white rum, sugar (traditionally sugar cane juice), lime juice, soda water, and mint. Its combination of sweetness, citrus, and herbaceous mint flavors is intended to complement the rum, and has made the mojito a popular summer drink.
When preparing a mojito, fresh lime juice is added to sugar (or to simple syrup) and mint leaves. The mixture is then gently mashed with a muddler. The mint leaves should only be bruised to release the essential oils and should not be shredded. Then rum is added and the mixture is briefly stirred to dissolve the sugar and to lift the mint leaves up from the bottom for better presentation. Finally, the drink is topped with crushed ice and sparkling soda water. Mint leaves and lime wedges are used to garnish the glass.
The mojito is one of the most famous rum-based highballs. There are several versions of the mojito.
Havana, Cuba, is the birthplace of the mojito, although its exact origin is the subject of debate. It was known that the local South American Indians had remedies for various tropical illnesses, so a small boarding party went ashore on Cuba and came back with ingredients for an effective medicine. The ingredients were aguardiente de caña (translated as "burning water", a crude form of rum made from sugar cane) mixed with local tropical ingredients: lime, sugarcane juice, and mint. Lime juice on its own would have significantly prevented scurvy and dysentery, and tafia/rum was soon added as it became widely available to the British (ca. 1650). Mint, lime and sugar were also helpful in hiding the harsh taste of this spirit. While this drink was not called a mojito at this time, it was the original combination of these ingredients.
Some historians contend that African slaves who worked in the Cuban sugar cane fields during the 19th century were instrumental in the cocktail's origin. Guarapo, the sugar cane juice often used in mojitos, was a popular drink among the slaves who named it. It never originally contained lime juice.
There are several theories behind the origin of the name mojito: one such theory holds that name relates to mojo, a Cuban seasoning made from lime and used to flavour dishes. Another theory is that the name Mojito is simply a derivative of mojadito (Spanish for "a little wet" ), the diminutive of mojado ("wet" ).
The mojito has routinely been presented as a favorite drink of author Ernest Hemingway. It has also often been said that Hemingway made the bar called La Bodeguita del Medio famous when he became one of its regulars and wrote "My mojito in La Bodeguita, My daiquiri in El Floridita" on a wall of the bar. This epigraph, handwritten and signed in his name, persists despite doubts expressed by Hemingway biographers about such patronage and the author's taste for mojitos. La Bodeguita del Medio is better known for its food than its drink.
A survey by an international market research company found that in 2016 the mojito was the most popular cocktail in Britain and France.
Personality: If you were to open up a dictionary, Guarath's name would fall directly under the definition of the word "high maintenance." She is a very needy dragon, and demands the upmost from anyone close to her. From her rider, she will expect nonstop attention and care, and it had better be the best of care! Future lovers beware, for Guarath will not only be inclined to a slow burn, but also expectations mountains high. This pile of issues and demands is just one temper tantrum away from shattering friendships at any moment.
One might say that Guarath has a slow fuse, but one would be wrong. Explosively angry when she is set off, Guarath's rage is verrrry slow to cool. Unfortunately, her affections cool much more swiftly. Her good opinion, once lost, may almost never be regained. She is proud, self-centered, and very, very picky. If you were to ask Guarath why that is, she would simply say that she has high standards. At least she's not a hypocrite and she does hold herself to the self-same standards. If anything, she might actually be a little more harsh with herself when she falls short of her own expectations.
When it comes to friendships, this is not your green. Oh don't get her wrong, she'll try her best, but she has such a temper that even her nearest and dearest might get burned if they aren't exceptionally careful. It's a good thing that she's so focused on herself or it would probably pain her when relationships almost inevitably shattered. Who cares what anyone else thinks? Guarath is here for herself first, and others second. She's never been a people pleaser and doesn't intend to start anytime soon. Huff.
One thing that is certain about Guarath is that she does not like relying on others. She is intensely independent, and doesn't like to be seen as weak. If she feels like she is giving off the appearance of weakness, she will do everything she can to either conceal it or shed it. Perhaps it is due to her small size that she feels that way, but whatever the reason this proud lady will never admit when she needs help. Not even if pressed. She is self-reliant and doesn't want to anyone to think less of her.
Physical Attributes: Small but mighty, Guarath is long in tail and neck, with slightly stubby wings. That last bit frustrates her immensely, but she can't help what she was hatched to be.
Additional Notes: If anyone were to get past Guarath's many flaws, she is a true friend indeed. Any lover need not fear that she would look elsewhere... at least when said lover continued to meet her standards and demands. Nothing pleases her quite so much as her rider's attention, and she will seek after it relentlessly.
Impression Effect: Upon Impression, Lyfrocier will receive -10 awkwardness and plus 20 confidence. He may not always walk around the Weyr with a swagger, but if he did he would be well entitled, as far as Guarath is concerned! Take that, doubters.
Why Me?Lyfrocier possesses many qualities that Guarath admires, including an ability to readily navigate the niceties of formal social situations. Everything he does is deliberate, mirroring the green's meticulous nature. If anyone could love her warts and all, she believes it might well be Lyfrocier. But he needn't fear his own failures any longer, for Guarath will sweep them away. As loathe as she is to confront her own, she simply does not believe them in her rider. No, Lyfrocier is top shelf, just like Guarath, thank you. Anyone who doesn't understand that isn't worth their time.
Name: K'ino. Age: 74. Nameday: 3501.02.25 Sex: Male. Sexual Orientation: Pansexual. Status: Single Weyr: Western. Rider Rank: Wingrider. Previous Rank/Craft: Weyrbrat. Physical Description: It's likely for the best that K'ino didn't inherit much from his father in the way of looks--he stands significantly taller at a massive 6'4" and is built like a brick wall, easily looming over others without much thought. Function is far more important than form to him, and K'ino makes sure that everything about his appearance is maintained properly. His hair is dark, loosely curled, and is usually tied back in a short ponytail to keep it out of the way; his beard is kept neatly trimmed and even, and he refuses to put any beads or other ornamentation in it. As far as features go, he's rather square, with a strong nose and dark, heavy brows that give him the appearance of being constantly glowering. His eyes are a deep amber, and his gaze has a piercing quality to it that displays his personal intensity often long before he even speaks. K'ino has dark brown skin, showing the wear of a life led mostly outdoors; he's flecked with a wide variety of scars, mostly small but sometimes more substantial, all earned over his many years of existence. He's got a large, intricate tattoo across his shoulderblades, reaching around to curl across his biceps--it depicts an interlocking geometric pattern in black ink, radiating outward from a mandala-style almost floral design located directly in the middle of his shoulders. It branches up to the back and sides of his neck, as well as trailing down his spine before tapering off into a somewhat teardrop shape in the small of his back, and the edges of the design fade out into dotwork. His forearms have a similar design, albeit somewhat different in their motif--their central mandala patterns are located just above his wrists on the backs of his hands, and don't stray too far down onto his hand properly. On the underside of his forearms, the design is somewhat simpler, and is largely composed of dotwork instead of heavy lines.
Personality: K'ino can be somewhat of a stick in the mud. He's a stickler for doing one's duty above all else, and takes his responsibilities very seriously, much like most things in his life; he seems to have little time for anything frivolous or purely for the sake of fun, and prefers to keep things simple and uncomplicated. There's plenty of things out there to worry about--he certainly doesn't need to spend time trying to figure out just how to achieve that specialized form of relaxation when something far easier can be reached with much less effort. He believes strongly in the importance of working hard, but also stands by the notion of working smart where possible; sometimes, you need more than pure effort to get where you need to be in life, and a little innovation goes a long way in that regard. Outright cutting corners with no regard for the results, however, is absolutely unacceptable. He's very respectful with few exceptions--while he makes a point to treat others with all the dignity they deserve, if he feels they haven't earned the respect they try to command, he'll be much less polite. Unsurprisingly, this has led to a few arguments in the past, and K'ino still doesn't think he was in the wrong for these. To him, merit is earned, not something you're born into or abruptly handed; K'ino particularly has problems with those born into lofty positions who simply rest on their family's laurels rather than working to establish their own worth, and sees little point in regarding them as anything other than average people when outside of any high-stakes situation involving them. Again, this hasn't earned him many favors, and the fact that he's especially forceful and insistent on this point certainly doesn't help.
He's a quiet, steady rock of a man, often serving as a form of emotional island when things go south--to him, actions speak far louder than words, which is fortunate considering the fact that he's not exactly great with expressing his feelings. K'ino is far from an emotional guy, and doesn't tend to show what he's feeling easily, or at all; he isn't terribly fond of verbally discussing them, either, and can have trouble connecting with others on an emotional basis. He has little experience with heart-to-heart chats or anything similar, and while he's a very genuine, honest man, K'ino lacks a lot of the nuance necessary to make those go smoothly. K'ino is very much a realist, although he's entertained plenty dreams in his time--he just understands that you can't pursue and achieve everything you want, and makes a point to limit these notions in himself accordingly. He has a tendency to ruin his own hopes with his pragmatic nature by picking them apart until he sees little other than what he believes to be their inevitable bad ends, at which point they're deemed a lost cause and not worth wasting the effort.
He follows a solid motto of 'do no significant harm, but take no s**t'--he doesn't go out of his way to aggravate and anger others, but if somebody tries to rouse his temper, he's quick to put an end to that before it gets to be a problem. He doesn't beat around the bush with anything at all, and finds that handling matters prudently--not to mention effectively--is of the utmost importance. K'ino can sometimes come down on problems with far too much force, and has somewhat of a reputation for being harsh, but he's just as quick to make reparations when needed in order to (hopefully) prevent any lasting grudges.
Positive Trait List Honest, straightforward, down-to-earth, self-assured, patient. Negative Trait List Blunt, aggressive, pessimistic, aloof, distant.
History: Being born the only son of two riders and raised at Western Weyr cemented from an early age that there was genuinely no where else Kossmino would rather be, or anything else he'd rather do than be a dragonrider. Life at Western quickly showed him that hard work and effort were what determined someone's standing far more than societal ranks, and he took that ideal to heart; as a Candidate, he was tireless in his duties, allowing himself precious little time to relax in the face of the responsibility he bore. Even with Thread gone, he was preparing to be a dragonrider--perhaps not the same kind as those that flew against Threadfall all those years ago, but still a dragonrider all the same, with a very specific ideal of conduct and protocol in mind. His mother, a no-nonsense brownrider with a tendency toward keeping her nose to the grindstone, taught him the importance of maintaining balance in his life; on the other hand, his father, a far more dreamy whiterider who kept his head in the clouds, tried to kindle a desire to live life to the fullest in his son. Together, these notions combined in a somewhat haphazard way--Kossmino remained as dedicated and diligent as before, but D'nov's words and urging had left their mark. He'd already inherited some of that dreamer's spark, but now it had taken hold, although Kossmino kept it well hidden in order to try and keep it from interfering with his responsibilities.
At age 14, he stood on the Sands for the first time, but failed to Impress. This was the first time Kossmino began to doubt his dreams--he was assured that there would be more Hatchings yet, more chances, but the seed had been planted. He stood again and again, each time being passed over--D'nov did his best to be the supportive parent Kossmino needed, but he wasn't sure he was enough, and his hesitation formed the first few cracks in their relationship. A rift began to form between Kossmino and his father, slowly but surely; it built over time, sometimes being patched up, sometimes being forced wider apart. His mother, although busy with her own work and responsibilities, provided an anchor for the both of them when she was around to do so, and they were able to work through the worst of it all. Finally, when he was 17, he Impressed.
Shevauth, all limbs and awkward stumbling, came to him early on in the Hatching, announcing his presence with his own fanfare by way of a reedy bugle. D'nov was overjoyed, and the newly-minted K'ino found himself beginning to gravitate more toward his father for the advice he could provide, learning plenty of tips and tricks about being a dragonrider under his highly informal tutelage. D'nov did his best to show K'ino all the wonders of being a rider, although he was careful to leave the possibilities as open-ended as possible--he didn't want to box K'ino into anything, and this caution went a long way toward keeping any disagreements from brewing between them. As Shevauth grew, so too did K'ino, and eventually, the pair had matured into a fine set of rider and dragon, confident and capable. They were able to pursue some of the dreams D'nov had given them, experiencing the world with a similar, although significantly more tempered, sense of wonder--Pern had so much to offer and explore, and they were happy to do so, although always after they'd taken care of their duties first. Balance was key, and they were determined to strike the best form of it they could. For decades, they maintained this careful system, becoming comfortable with the routine of their lives and the rhythm of it all. With Shevauth, K'ino felt he could do almost anything.
Thread's return put an abrupt end to their dreaming. Now, they have so much more to train for, and a whole new list of responsibilities to take care of--except these now carried life and death consequences for more than just themselves. K'ino stepped up, and has put any flights of fancy quite firmly on a shelf far out of reach; Pern is far more important than the idle fantasies he's been pursuing, and he won't allow himself to be distracted now.
Other: he's got really good aim when it comes to throwing rocks and can skip a stone further than you.
Name: Shevauth Age: 57 Color: Blue Status: Single Size: 62' Physical Description: Long, lanky, and as sharp-edged as a fistful of knives, Shevauth is a whip-thin Blue with a naturally dramatic figure and every bit of the inclination to use it. His wingspan is particularly impressive, almost disproportionately long when compared to his body, and when coupled with the fact that he's very expressive with his wings, this means that he's liable to smack others when he gets too animated. Shevauth's teeth are a bit longer than normal, particularly his fangs, and often can be seen regardless of the expression he makes--he considers it simply part of his roguish charm, if you ask him. His headknobs are noticeably thin and almost pointed, and are swept back at a sharp angle that places them closer to his neck. Overall, Shevauth doesn't bear many scars, and although the edges of his sails are tattered from the wear and tear that comes with age, he's come out of his first few Falls with little noticeable damage--he's quite thankful for that.
Personality: Shevauth is a sarcastic, dry-witted dragon with a cavalier air, a much looser sense of responsibility than K'ino's got, and a genuine desire to just enjoy himself every now and again. He doesn't hide his emotions well, and is somewhat fidgety; he doesn't like staying in one place for too long without something to do, but can be placated with a good brainteaser or being privy to the latest drama. He hates being genuinely idle, and quickly grows irritable and snippy if forced to simply wait around for something to happen. For Shevauth to be happy, or at the very least content, something has to be happening--he's never truly alone with his own thoughts with K'ino there, but he requires a very particular level of stimulus to remain properly engaged, and if it dips too low, he's liable to just zone out rather than pay any kind of attention.
Still, there's plenty of things that can be used to get his attention should the situation call for it. Gossip is Shevauth's second favorite thing, and you can bet he'll have a plethora of comments for every single development. He's near-constant background noise for K'ino, serving as the proverbial peanut gallery who's more than happy to provide his opinions on everything, whether they're appreciated or not--and they better be, because he's worth it. He thinks very highly of himself, but is a far cry from rampantly egotistical; most of his high-and-mighty comments are little more than jokes, and he finds anyone genuinely lording themselves over others to be highly distasteful and outright frustrating.
Name: Solai Age: 20 Nameday: 07.12.3556 Sex: Transgender male Sexual Orientation: A mess of uncertainty bordering on bisexual. Status: Single Weyr: Western Weyr Rider Rank: Wingrider Previous Rank/Craft: Journeyman minecrafter Physical Description: Well-built and overall as sturdy as a watchwher, one look at Solai in action makes it very clear that he's been doing physical work for most of his life. Although he's not of any incredibly imposing stature, standing at little more than 5'7", he's well-muscled, and can more than carry his fair share of work. He's somewhat overweight, with plenty of padding to protect vital organs during anything physical--he'd just argue that it softens his edges enough to be cozy. Typically, he wears rather simple clothes, and is careful to select fabrics that are both durable and easy to clean. His sense of fashion is more utilitarian than anything, although he allows himself a few frivolities in his accessories--he wears a few thin gold rings, little more than hammered-out pieces of wire, as well as a short necklace of iridescent green glass beads that was given to him upon graduation to Journeyman. Solai's features are soft, with a broad, gently sloped nose and slightly thin lips that are usually set in a smile in one way or another. He's got a short mess of tightly curled black hair, and it tends to go wherever it pleases with little attempts at styling on his part. His eyes are a deep blue-green, and although he tends to look some shade of tired most of the time, there's no small amount of mirth in there all the same. His skin is dark, littered with starkly pale scars around his hands and forearms from a variety of minor workplace accidents, and although he's got a few slightly stiff fingers as a result of them, he's rather proud of them for the experience he got alongside them.
Personality: Solai is a firm, no-bullshit individual who follows the mantra of 'work hard, play harder.' He's proud and headstrong, but understands well that his place in the world isn't one of bossing others around--instead, he tends to act more as a guiding force when possible, aiding whoever's in charge of him in keeping order. Maintaining morale is just as important to him, and he's careful to tread that fine line of not cracking down too hard on others when push comes to shove. Above all else, Solai seeks to maintain a level of balance, thinking of the world like a machine--if everything is well-oiled and neatly kept, it'll run perfectly. That's not to say that he has a tendency to view others as more cogs than people--in fact, quite the opposite. Solai is a fervent defender of people's individuality, and not simply from a workplace standpoint. Finding one's personal identity can be difficult, as he very well knows, and he does everything he can (within rules and reason of course) to be as supportive and helpful as is possible with easing others into their best selves. He's of the mind that there's a time and place for everything, and although his patience leaves something to be desired, Solai will (at times begrudgingly) wait if he has to. There's no need to be rash about things, yes, but it doesn't take very long for him to start chafing in periods of inactivity, and Solai tends to get antsy far faster than may be expected. He's at his best when he's able to keep doing things, be it work or some other general activity, and being placed on any long periods of rest still agitate him. While he'll always submit to those with authority over him, it won't stop him from grousing about it on his own time.
When he's turned loose in a social situation, Solai well and truly thrives, finding it easy to integrate himself into preexisting dynamics and conversations. He's careful not to step on any toes, which takes a bit of subtle observation first--fortunately enough, he's quick to read the room, and knows how to navigate the social landscape from there. Formal situations are where he starts getting a bit out of his element, given the additional rules and etiquette necessary for such things, but he can still perform admirably despite his uncertainty. Really, he'd be a perfect second in command, but he lacks some of the personal initiative needed to make him a truly exceptional leader. Solai is a loyal, even-tempered individual, but his high standards mean that he can be a bit hard to please. He takes a fine-toothed comb to both his own work and that of those around him, and he's quick to criticize himself--he uses much softer language when going over someone else's contributions, but he spares himself the sugarcoating. Although Solai doesn't like to immediately jump to conclusions, he's hard to shake once he's come to whatever decision he's set himself to, and it can be difficult to persuade him to another side. He'd argue that it means he's hard to distract, but it's just as easy to claim that it makes him somewhat of a pain to deal with if he's decided to be contrary.
History: The first son of a Smith and a wher-handling Minecrafter, Solai grew up in a world of rock and metal. He was born in Crom Hold, and stayed there for most of his early life, finding himself well-suited to the mountains in spite of the isolation they provided. From a young age, he was just as fascinated with his parents' crafts as they were, and quickly made up his mind to follow in his father's footsteps as a miner himself. He was always watching them work, trying to reenact their techniques in his spare time--it didn't take long for his parents to decide that they should find the boy a position as an apprentice, and soon enough, he was officially part of the Minecraft Hall. He took to it like a fish to water, and although he wasn't quite as popular as he would have liked due to being something of a teacher's pet, was well on the path to making a good life for himself as a miner. Eventually, though, the less than savory nature of Crom's alliance with Nabol started to rear its ugly head, and his family began to plan for a way out. With a new baby sister in tow, they wanted to find somewhere safer to call home, not to mention their unspoken desire to get out before Crom could get as bad as Nabol was. The return of Thread was more motivation to get somewhere less isolated, but it was decided that they'd wait until Solai was finished with his apprenticeship to make any hard decisions. In spite of all this, Solai walked the tables at eighteen, and becoming a Journeyman was one of the proudest moments of his life. It looked as though things were going well, and he was rather optimistic about his future--perhaps mining wasn't the most glamorous work out there, but it was painfully necessary, and he was happy to contribute to Pern's future. His family threw him a small party in celebration of his success, and he was all too ready to begin the rest of his life from there.
However, things went a little differently. A few weeks later, Solai was Searched to High Reaches, agreeing to go more out of a sense of duty than a deep desire to be a dragonrider--in his eyes, it was more about following protocol and paying proper respects to the weyr, but he quickly found himself getting a bit starstruck by the idea. Lofty dreams aside, going to High Reaches would give him an excellent opportunity to study the Weyr's structure, and that was enough to give him a more practical reason to go. Still, it was all only a fantasy though, right? Nothing to get so caught up in that he lost sight of his goals; just something he was currently doing, that's all. He just wasn't the dragonriding type, even if that rider had told him he had potential. He'd be a miner like his father, and he was okay with that. When it came time for Killakeeth's hatching, he willingly participated in the candidate transfer to Western, curious to see what their climate was like after a life spent in far colder mountains. Although it took some time to acclimate to the tropical heat, Solai found himself to be quite fond of Western, agreeing readily with their merit-based ideas--he almost wondered if this was a better fit for him than High Reaches until he caught himself. Almost immediately after, something else caught him. A little hatchling, long since having made up his mind, knew exactly which candidate he wanted. He found Solai with no difficulty whatsoever, slipping through the crowd so quietly as to evade notice--even His didn't know for sure that he was there until he crept up from behind, gently placing his nose in Solai's hand. He'd never expected to Impress, but here he was on the Sands with a dragonet telling him he'd done just that.
From there, the pair progressed through weyrling training with the rest of their class, working hard to earn their place in one of Western's wings. Solai's parents were immensely proud of him, and he still does everything he can to stay in contact with them despite the distance separating them.
Other: He thinks whers are adorable, and was a little bit nervous about heights up until flight lessons made him get over that. Has a fear of birds.
Name: Tokochath Color: Blue Status: Single Size: 52' Inspiration: Red Lynx Origin of Name: Derived from Tokoch Kachina, a Hopi wuya and bobcat/red lynx spirit.
Physical Attributes: Tokochath is a lean, svelte dragon with overall rather even proportions, save for his legs--they're just a bit short, giving him a somewhat compacted appearance. His head is long and slender, and his fangs are just long enough to show even when his mouth is closed. His tail is much more bony than the rest of him, however, especially near the tip.
Personality: Cryptic, secretive, and mercurial, Tokochath is a dragon of few words and many shifting opinions. He prefers to watch and wait before making any move, and is decidedly slow to act--when he does, however, he responds quickly and confidently, with no room for second-guessing himself. Tokochath keeps all of his observations and secrets very tightly to his chest, and while you can be sure that he's always watching, he doesn't have any intention of spreading what he's seen to anyone you'd know. It's not that he's planning on hatching some malicious scheme or anything--Tokochath simply likes keeping tabs on others, considering it on the same level as birdwatching. People are curious things, and he enjoys seeing their reactions to day-to-day events, even more so if there's something unexpected involved. If he's bored enough, Tokochath has been known to be the unexpected thing, poking and prodding where he can just to mix it up a little. It's never meant as an insult or genuine slight, and he has a hard time understanding when other people have been truly upset by his actions. Why would they be mad at him? He was only breaking the monotony--perhaps you're in a bad mood, but now things are less boring, aren't they? That being said, it's not terribly surprising that Tokochath isn't a very popular dragon. For all his peoplewatching, he's socially inept all the same, and tends to see the world in a bit more of a logical light. He acts based on what he thinks is best, which leads to him often ignoring or misunderstanding the feelings of others; he uses his many observations of those around him to guide his plans, and allows little room for other viewpoints. Tokochath is convinced that he's quite impartial, thank you, and doesn't need to be swayed by anyone--so don't bother telling him your side of the story. He's highly opinionated in spite of his relative silence, and once he's leveled his judgment, it's final. Once he's made up his mind on someone, it's hard to change it; in the case of his high praise, this means for a stalwart ally, but not so much for the inverse. Fortunately enough, he's slow to make his final verdict, although he's certainly quick to judge others until then.
At his best, Tokochath is perceptive, dedicated, confident, and quick-witted--while he's not as skilled with words as he thinks he is, he's also a rather constant presence for those he loves. He's supportive in subtle ways, and ardently refuses to make a grand show of it. Tokochath never wants to be the center of attention, and is more than happy to deflect it elsewhere--for example, to the nearest person he admires. He maintains a very tight social circle of close confidants, and Tokochath sees no issue with providing these few individuals with as much affection and care as is possible. He'll bend over backwards for them, and expects little in return--he doesn't like being on the receiving end of excessive amounts of attention, and would much prefer to simply be privately recognized for his favors.
Additional Notes: Tokochath is strongly interested in other males, and basically has zero interest for Greens and Golds. They're nice to look at, sure, but his affectations are mainly with Bronzes, although the occasional Brown or Blue can make their way into this circle. His favorite color to look at is, unsurprisingly, his own, and he's Solai's number one bird wrangler should the need arise.
Why Me: Solai is an industrious, hard-working young man with a dedication to order and not rocking the boat--he's got so much potential as a perfect partner, and Tokochath knows exactly how to bring that all out. He doesn't want to change him completely, though; if he did, he simply would have picked someone else. Solai is perfect how he is, although Tokochath would love it if he'd be a little less subservient sometimes. Fortunately enough, that's what he's here for. Tokochath's strong opinions and fast thinking serve to make Solai pick up the pace when it's needed, and in return, Solai balances out his dragon's sharper edges. He's the restraint to Tokochath's more socially disastrous tendencies, and the calm edge of understanding and compassion to help his dragon better navigate dealing with others. They're just different enough to compliment each other, and Tokochath knew that Solai was going to be His from the moment he touched his shell.
Name: Xeothine Age: 30 Nameday: 3546.12.17 Sex: Female Sexual Orientation: Bisexual Status: Single Weyr: Western Weyr Rider Rank: Wingrider Previous Rank/Craft: Journeyman Courtesan
Physical Description: Xeothine is every bit as prim and proper as she was when she was a courtesan. She's just as meticulously kept as she's always been, and accepts no flaws in her outward appearance--she knows full well that she's quite pretty, and has little issue with using that fact, either. Her hair is a glossy black, smooth and straight, and is usually kept coiffed up in a complicated arrangement of braids and pins that are both ornamental and functional. She's since stopped wearing the majority of her makeup, but still favors a nice lip rouge every now and again. Typically, Xeothine's face is a mask of calm, almost bordering on subtle irritation if you look closely enough--outright displays of it are a little more difficult to find, save for when she's not trying to maintain her image in certain social situations. In private, she's far more expressive and relaxed, but is careful to restrain herself otherwise. She has a slightly hawkish nose that she herself finds statuesque, with prominent cheekbones and an overall sculpted appearance that makes her quite striking. Her eyes are a warm golden brown, and she tends to coordinate her accessories to make them pop more--everything about her outfits are specifically chosen to work with her features, ensuring a cohesive and aesthetically pleasing outcome. Her necklace is the one accessory that will never change; it's simple, made up of a patterned mix of brass and amber beads strung across three wide strands to form a choker. She bears some threadscore scars across her shoulders and back, branching up her neck on her left side; the scars are a stark white when compared to the rest of her brown skin, and she wears them as a mark of pride. Personality: Particular in everything she does, Xeothine holds herself to high standards, pushing herself as hard as she needs to in order to meet the rather lofty goals she sets for herself. She's determined enough to never back down from a challenge, especially when they're her own, but does know when to pick her battles--she's far from foolhardy, and will carefully weigh the risks before putting herself or anyone else on the line. She performs well in social situations, easily falling back into her courtesan training in order to maneuver in the best possible manner. In many ways, she's something of a social chameleon, blending into groups and cliques near effortlessly. Underneath her calm composure however, she's a bit different. Xeothine is an ardent, passionate soul, with strong opinions and even stronger morals--she can be especially harsh if she feels these ideals are being ignored, and follows her sense of right and wrong closely. Her temper leaves something to be desired, however, and even with all her training in mind, it can be difficult for Xeothine to hold her tongue if she sees something wrong. If crossed, she has little qualms with making her feelings clear, and knows how to pick people apart if the need arises. She's polite, but will not take being pushed lightly, and will move quickly to put an end to such things before they get very far at all.
Xeothine is a very private person, and maintains her boundaries strictly, to say the least. She has her life compartmentalized how it is for a reason, and anyone who dares to try and ruin her system will be handled. She likes her solitude, but can get caught up in her own head if she isn't careful, leading to somewhat of a spiral of overthinking that Eketh is particularly skilled at defusing. Xeothine keeps much of herself under wraps, preferring to show only the most meticulously managed parts of her personality to the world--it's difficult to well and truly get to know her, and she's well aware of it. She gets lonely from time to time, and can be moody--however, there isn't much else to show when she's feeling like this out of her own design. As much as she'd like to be surrounded by genuine friends and close relations, she knows that isn't going to happen without any trouble at all, and she's unsure if opening herself up to being hurt is worth it. She's content to find companionship in Eketh, but her Green does her best to draw her rider out of her shell when she feels Xeothine is getting too entrenched in it.
History: Coming from Rivercrest Hold, Xeothine wasn't born in high status or significant wealth. She was taken in by her aunt after her mother had her, and never sought out her biological mother after that--as far as she's concerned, if the woman didn't want her then, she doesn't deserve to have her now. Although her new home wasn't exceptionally well off, they fared decent enough, surviving as a relatively happy, if a little bare, household consisting of herself and Aldascine, who quickly became her new mother. When Xeothine was twelve, her mother remarried, having lost her first husband years ago; her newest husband was a fine man who ensured that Xeothine was well taken care of, and he treated Aldascine like a queen. Xeothine liked him, and was more than happy to welcome a father figure into her life. Between the two of them, her parents managed to find her a potential apprenticeship as a Courtesan, should she want it--they understood that they might not be able to support all of Xeothine's dreams from their meager home, and they wanted to afford her an opportunity that would allow her to make herself known to people far more important than they would be in contact with usually. Xeothine was delighted, and gladly accepted--she began her training at the age of sixteen, learning how to be a proper lady in no time.
As she worked her way through her new education, Xeothine began to attract the attention of a certain minor lord's son--he was captivated by her beauty and poise, and seemed to be completely head over heels for her. Now a Journeyman, Xeothine had come into her own with grace and dignity, and thought his affection charming; she wasn't yet sure if she was willing to tie herself to one person so soon, but he could certainly afford her plenty of opportunities, not to mention a comfortable life from here on out. Xeothine went with him to many engagements, rubbing elbows with higher society and making herself known among these circles--she became a regular sight at his side, and for a time, she was content.
Xeothine had attended another one of Western's Hatchings as an honored guest, her position on the arm of her usual beau quite secure--she was intensely curious about the whole affair, honestly, but did her best to ensure that her companion didn't feel ignored. To do so would be rude, after all, not to mention an excellent way to lose favor with him after so long of working toward it. She'd worked this hard for his attention, and to ruin it all now would be disastrous. The man she'd accompanied thought it would be grand fun, not to mention the fact that one of his little brothers was standing--it would mark her second Hatching as a guest, and she was eager to see the process once more. Everything was going well, with each dragonet finding Theirs with ease; save for one Green who seemed almost lost, constantly searching the Sands. She had little regard for the Candidates there, despite many attempts to help her--as her concern grew, so too did Xeothine's. Didn't that mean something...bad? Was Hers not here after all--?
There you are! Oh. That-- That meant something very, very different.
Nothing else mattered in that moment. She rose to her feet, leaving her not-quite-love interest far behind as she went to collect Eketh--her Eketh. Becoming a dragonrider had been the very last thing she'd expected, but she couldn't reject it now. Eketh needed her, and she wouldn't dream of leaving her alone. Weyrling training caught her almost completely off guard, but Xeothine adapted quickly, doing everything she could to fit into her new role. She was a fast learner, and Eketh drank in everything the weyrlingmaster had to offer--both of them were voracious in their studies, wanting little more than to show their weyr that they deserved to be in their ranks. With the return of Threadfall, their training shifted, becoming far more intense. It was harder than ever, but they refused to back down; if there was ever going to be a time to rise in response to a challenge, now would be it. Their first Threadfall saw them both injured, but it wasn't enough to knock them out of the fight completely. Xeothine knew that she'd found her purpose then, and was all too eager to push herself toward it. They were threadfighters, and they would show Pern just how good they could be.
Other: Although it's not technically worth much, her necklace is her pride and joy--it was a gift from her mother to wish her well on her apprenticeship, and she never takes it off.
Name: Eketh Age: 8 Color: Green Status: Single Size: 42'
Physical Description: Eketh is not a very dainty Green, although she still tries. She has thick, muscular limbs and a somewhat longer than average torso, with almost disproportionately large wings when compared to the rest of her--she's definitely sturdy enough to take a hit, even if she'd much prefer not to. She has a few prominent threadscore scars on her neck and the top of her head, and the tip of her left headknob didn't exactly make it through the incident that gave her the rest of her scars. She isn't a fan of that being pointed out, and will get a little weepy about it.
Personality: Curious in spades, Eketh is an enthusiastic, albeit nervous dragon. She's very excitable and prone to fits of jubilation when things go right, but can just as easily be sent spiraling into a depression if they don't--while her moods may not be particularly stable, she does her best to push herself to be in spite of them, wanting nothing more than to belong among her peers. She tends to doubt herself, and can readily find her own flaws with very little introspection; on the other hand, however, her keenly observant nature is turned toward finding the good in others, doing whatever she can to bolster them to be the best they can be. Eketh is a bit timid, and can be reclusive given how timid she is, but to those she befriends, she's a fiercely loyal and protective Green that will stop at nothing to make those she cares about happy. While standing up for herself is one of the hardest things for her, Eketh does have a snapping point, and once it's been reached, she'll let you have it. She's unfortunately great at bottling up her own emotions, which is the primary fuel for her anger; she wants to be so much more than she is, but she has a hard time getting herself to believe that she's deserving of it. Her rages are particularly intense, and they tend to be the vehicle by which she vents her concerns and frustrations--unless it's been very well deserved, it's unlikely that she'll take this anger out on anyone in particular, though. More often than not, she simply needs to vent, and will cool down once she's gotten everything off her chest. Whatever happens in the meantime is something she knows she'll have to deal with later, and that's enough to convince her to settle back down.
Name: V'di Age: 19 Nameday: 3557.07.23 Sex: Male Sexual Orientation: ???? Status: Single Weyr: Western Weyr Rider Rank: Wingrider Previous Rank/Craft: Trainee guard Physical Description: V'di is not the most notable person you'll ever meet. His features are unremarkable and it's very, very easy for him to be lost in a crowd, and oftentimes he can go unnoticed for an almost ridiculously long time; even after Impression, he finds it easy to melt into a crowd. Because of this, V'di still adheres to an old habit: wearing at least one heinously bright article of clothing to ensure somebody notices him. He used to dislike it, but given the fact that the almost painfully bright strip of orange cloth around his wrist was given to him by his mother during better times, he's grown fond of it. It's gotten somewhat faded over the years, sure, but it's still searing on the eyes. He considers it his lucky charm during Threadfall. His hair is a short, wavy, and light red; his hair being the reason his mom picked that fabric for him, seeing as she thought it matched quite nicely. V'di's eyes are gray, and his hair is kept a good distance from them at all times. He's rather particular about that. Build-wise, V'di is, unsurprisingly, average, clocking in at little more than 5'8". He's gotten plenty of muscle on him since Impressing Kinth, but he's not an especially intimidating person. He can get into some tight places and is rather flexible, but he's never really been able to put those abilities to use in any practical situation so far.
Personality: V'di is somewhat of a pushover. He's very easy to convince to whatever, but changes his opinions way too much to be of any use in an argument or debate; he simply finds it easier to go with whoever's loudest, although he certainly listens enough to ascertain where his opinions should lie. However, he's not inclined to rocking the boat enough to make himself known, particularly in more high-strung situations. He doesn't talk a lot and tends to stay at the back of the crowd, but don't confuse this for being shy--V'di really actually loves talking to others, in spite of his nerves regarding such things. He's always worried that he might mess it all up, even when conversations are going well; sometimes this proves to be somewhat of a self-fulfilling prophecy, but he's an earnest soul who really just wants someone to see him for him.
While he's not usually noticed for it, nor does he readily volunteer this information, V'di has a memory like a bear trap. He recalls all the little details of things that happened years ago, and this, coupled with the fact that he has to work hard to get himself noticed, could have set him up quite well for a life of spying or thievery. Being the son of a pair of guards, however, he knew far better than to try anything like that--instead, he keeps his daydreams precisely that. Daydreams. He can often be found with his head in the clouds in his free time, dreaming up stories and adventures with Kinth--he's been bitten by her roving bug, and even though he knows that pursuing these ideas isn't practical, they're nice to think about when things are dark.
He's gotten a good sense of discipline through Candidate and Weyrling training, as well as old habits drilled into him by his parents--V'di will always follow the chain of command, and will do so without complaint. He has no desire to strive for a place high up in the hierarchy, and is quite satisfied with his lot in life; he's got Kinth, a Weyr that doesn't think they're disposable, and that's enough for him.
Positive Trait List: Sensible, practical, level-headed. Negative Trait List: Nervous, doesn't stand up for himself, submissive.
History: Valdi was born the youngest son to a pair of married guards in Rivercrest Hold, and seemed to have his life planned out for him from day one. His older brother had preceded him by five Turns, and much the same had happened with him--he'd grown up to become a guard, just like his parents, and the same was expected of Valdi. It was a perfectly honorable profession, and one that was most certainly needed within Rivercrest's walls; it offered stability, safety, and a clear-cut future that he could count on. For a time, this was fine, and he had little argument. The first crack formed when he was almost Searched at age fourteen. His parents did not approve, and thus, he was completely prevented from going--he was too afraid of the consequences to disagree with them, and merely kept his head down as the Searchrider left. He continued training to become a guard, albeit with less fervor than before; there was a seed of doubt planted in his mind now, and he couldn't quite stop himself from lingering on it. What would his life had been like if he'd just disregarded what his parents said and left? Was there a chance he could be a dragonrider now, instead of a guard?
The what-ifs continued to grow in number, and Valdi began to quietly resent the smothering home life he'd grown up in. He didn't act out, no, but found himself to be much less agreeable to the idea of having everything planned for him--his chance to change things came again, however. Two Turns later, another Searchrider came by bearing the news that Valdi would make an excellent Candidate; this time, knowing it was now or never, Valdi didn't hesitate. He scrambled to pack what he could before his parents could return from their watches, leaving a quick note by means of explanation--it wasn't often that he had a spine, but Valdi couldn't just sit by and let this chance pass him by all over again. He went to Western, where it wasn't much longer before he Impressed Kinth--she was everything he never thought he could be and more, and she gave him the strength he needed to dedicate himself toward this new life. Even with the newly-returned thread of Threadfall, he knew what they had to do. They would train, and they would fight. Rather than guarding one hold, V'di was guarding all of Pern now.
Other: V'di talks very softly, and often has to remind himself to be loud enough for other people to hear. He's afraid of anything with more than four legs, and hates insects.
Name: Kinth Age: 3 Color: Green Status: Single Size: 38' Physical Description: Well-built and barrel-chested, Kinth almost has the build of a Brown rendered in miniature. She's a sturdy Green with no wispiness about her, and looks as though she could readily burst through a wall if asked. Her headknobs are short and swept close to her skull, giving her face a slightly elongated appearance--as a result, she looks a little surprised at all times, as though she's been taken off guard. She would like to remind onlookers that such a thing would be very hard to manage indeed.
Personality: Kinth is primed and ready for ready for action! Life is an adventure, and this Green will be damned if she misses out on any of it. She can see the excitement in every day, ordinary situations, and will happily turn things like feedings or oiling into an event. Never satisfied to just go with the flow, Kinth will make up an adventure if the day is really looking that dull. And why not? Not a day should be wasted when you’re this brave and bold! She wants to see everything and go everywhere, far and wide. Meeting exotic people and eating strange things are right up her alley; Kinth saying no to a new opportunity will be a very rare thing indeed. However, she has trouble with routine when it starts to get boring, and tends to try and find ways to mix things up once it begins to become stale--unfortunately, this means that it can be hard to get her to be consistent, although V'di tries his best.
Unsurprisingly, given her tendencies toward turning everything she can into fantasy and excitement, Kinth is a very creative dragon. She always has a theatrical story to tell, about her adventures (or her dreams), and is very happy to share them. However, for all her creativity, she is not very practical. Kinth always wants to run off and explore; she lives for the moment and rarely plans ahead for the future. Planning is dreadfully boring for her, and she finds little more tedious than sitting around picking at what they should be doing two sevendays in advance. Now that she's matured more, she tends to have an easier time with taking serious things...well, seriously. She understands that they have a duty to adhere to, and has instead turned some of her boundless imagination toward making their own legend as threadfighters of Pern.
There is one thing that Kinth loves almost as much as adventure--the rewards at the end of the tunnel. For a dragon, she is exceptionally greedy. She wants all the meat to herself, she wants the whole entire beach. Or at least, she thinks she does. Kinth is worried if she shares, they’ll be nothing left for her, and seeing as she's the one who came across it, she's almost always of the opinion that she deserves it the most. Unfortunately, even when she doesn’t find it, Kinth still wants it. While she is usually quite agreeable, she loves taking others along for the adventure, this green has a nasty habit of taking things even when others find it first. Bigger dragons who try to boss her around will have some tough luck; Kinth is, after all, one of the greatest dragons on all of Pern, and she intends to make herself known.
Name: Aurizore Age: 20 Nameday: 3556.06.01 Sex: Female Sexual Orientation: Lesbian Status: Single Weyr: Western Weyr Rider Rank: Wingrider Previous Rank/Craft: Weyrbrat
Physical Description: Aurizore is quite proud of her physical prowess, and it makes itself quite clear in her physique--she's absolutely shredded, and wears clothing cut specifically to show off her arms at the very least. Abs are another frequent sight, but not always mandatory; sometimes, it's just a little too much. She stands at around 5'9" and not an inch more, something which she will periodically complain about--would it have been too much for an extra inch just to rub it in A'zan's face? Her features are a touch rounded, and she'd have a rather warm, genial kind of face were it not for the ever-present frown and constant furrow to her brow that she can never seem to shake. If anything, Aurizore appears to forever be frustrated about something, turning it over and over in her mind--however, this is just what her 'neutral' expression looks like, as she's quick to clarify. Her hair is a loosely curled mop of brown-black, kept medium length on top and shaved all around the sides; Western gets a little too warm for large curtains of hair, as she's discovered the hard way. Her eyes are a sharp, bright violet, seemingly just a little narrowed at all times in spite of her best efforts. Her complexion is a touch ruddy, and her nose is just a little crooked from an incident in her childhood. Her eyebrows are thick and dark, with a particular angle to them that contributes the most to her resting scowl, and she has a gold eyebrow ring in her right one, placed right next to a shaved notch.
Personality: Aurizore is a person best taken in at least two meetings. While she's certainly intimidating at first impression, Aurizore isn't quite as mean and terrifying as she'd sometimes like others to believe, and more than one conversation will quickly prove the other elements of her personality. She's driven and dedicated, and has little issue with realizing when she needs to go back to the drawing board to try a new approach--her flexibility serves her well, but her relatively chaotic ways of thinking make it hard for her to keep track of just what she's done for later. She can be a touch scatterbrained and is particularly prone to losing objects, which frustrates her immensely--her temper is one of her weaker points, although it's cooled somewhat since she's become a fully-fledged rider. She'll work tirelessly and without complaint, and wants little more than the satisfaction of being told that she's done well--aside from getting to beat others to the punch, that is. She's particularly competitive with her twin, A'zan, and she's weakest to challenges directly from him. While she's done her best to become just a bit more sensible in order to well and truly prove herself, her brother is always able to get her goat, and the two bicker (affectionately) on the regular.
Fortunately enough, she takes just about everything well. Aurizore is quick to crack a joke and even quicker to laugh, doing what she can to defuse tensions where possible--she understands that timing as just as important as placement, however, and isn't so foolish as to insert a joke in a situation where it would fall completely flat. She's not a fan of turning anyone's anger on herself, seeing as she knows she's liable to get angry right back, and doesn't seek to throw herself in the middle of conflicts that she isn't completely sure she can resolve. Still, Aurizore isn't impossible to provoke. She responds to perceived threats or problems quickly and harshly, and her aggression is certainly significant; it's something she's been trying to work on, in part to help Dalsath relax a touch as well. Aurizore can find it difficult to rein herself in when she gets too fired up about something, and this, coupled with her rather decisive nature, means that she can make snap decisions without much thinking at all; she doesn't need to spend a lot of time deliberating on an action when she could simply be doing it instead. It's easy to conflate her confidence in her choices with foolishness, or an excess of impulsiveness--and really, you wouldn't be particularly wrong to, either. Aurizore considers herself something of a work in progress, though, and is quite aware of her faults; she knows she's not perfect and won't be, but understands that some changes have to be made. In some ways, she's much more mature than A'zan is, but it's the one thing she isn't going to lord over him--for now.
History: If you ask Aurizore, she was born first. Her fraternal twin, Aruzant, will most certainly argue otherwise, but she knows. From their earliest days, this fact has been a point of contention between the two of them, even going so far as to lead to outbreaks of genuine arguments; the added side effect, however, was that these spats ignited their eternal competition. They were both handfuls for their parents, a pair of Western Blueriders who were just a little overwhelmed at having two children after expecting only one, and harassed each other on a daily basis--their sibling rivalry didn't take long to get well under way, particularly after they became Candidates. While Aurizore was leagues beyond Aruzant as far as anything physical went, he tended to best her in lessons, leading to a constant back and forth that never really saw one of them edging out the other; they were equally matched, truly, and worked best in complement to each other. Still, they always went above and beyond to try and 'win' against their twin, doing everything extra they could get assigned in order to get just that little bit of favor out of the Candidatemasters. While cautious not to push their luck too far and risk getting kicked out, both Aurizore and Aruzant were little spitfires, and Aurizore wouldn't be surprised if she were told the Candidatemasters were counting the days until they Impressed.
They stood for a full Turn without Impressing, and on the surface, Aurizore was just as boisterous and loud as ever. However, her patience cracked just a touch, spurred by quiet anxieties--Aruzant was quick to act, soothing his twin as best he could to prevent her from overthinking and losing her nerve. They had each other, if nothing else, and even with the scoreboard in mind, they would remain stalwart at each other's sides. It felt like ages before another clutch was laid, and Aurizore's excitement was near-boundless at the prospect. She wanted so desperately to see what this Hatching would bring, and whether or not this would be the one--she didn't have to wait long, either. Early on in the Hatching, a pair of dragonets emerged, a Blue and a Green; they wasted no time in squabbling with each other, and ichor found its way to the Sands quite quickly. Aurizore knew what to do, however, and was confident that she'd be able to keep herself and her brother safe--that is, until the squalling hatchlings turned their attentions elsewhere. Aurizore had tried to get Aruzant out of the way when she'd seen them coming, worried that they were intending to maul; she was taken down by the Green in an instant, all the wind knocked out of her as that sharp little body collided with her ribs. But the mauling she was expecting didn't come--instead, her voice did. Dalsath was ecstatic, bugling her triumph to the entire Weyr with her tiny lungs--she'd won, she'd beaten Komideth to the punch and gotten to Hers first! Wasn't Hers proud of her? She'd done it!
Aurizore was instantly smitten. Dalsath was everything she never knew she needed, and she felt complete--this Hatching had changed everything in the best way possible, and Dalsath was at the center of it all. More than that, even--she hadn't been the only one to Impress, which meant that Aruzant--now A'zan--would get to see just how many more times Aurizore and Dalsath would beat them, too! Weyrlinghood saw them excelling at drills, Dalsath's sheer motivation more than enough to propel them toward the finish line. They still had to take remedial lessons due to some less stellar performance in other areas, much to their chagrin, but they graduated without issue, earning their place in a fighting wing along with the rest of Dalsath's siblings. It became quite clear that Aurizore truly thrived as a rider, falling into the lifestyle with an almost natural sense of ease--while she still had difficulties from time to time, as everyone does, adjusting to the schedule and hard work proved easy for her. She was satisfied, almost enough to forget the majority of her competition with A'zan--almost. Their tug-of-war continues, unsurprisingly, but Aurizore is a little more relaxed about it now, instead allowing her duties to take up a steeper majority of her time.
Other: Is especially fond of sour foods, and has no issue with eating entire lemons. She exchanged flit eggs with A'zan for one of their birthdays after becoming full riders, and considers the fact that she got a Blue while A'zan received a Green to be somewhat sweet--it's almost like they got miniatures of each other's dragons to keep by them.
Name: Dalsath Age: 5 Color: Green Status: Single Size: 44' Physical Description: Lean and sharp-edged, Dalsath is more of a jagged shape masquerading as a Green than a proper dragon. Every angle of her seems so much more harsh than it should be, and her proportions are...interesting, to say the least; they don't look quite right, with limbs just a little too long and everything else exaggerated a bit too far, but somehow she continues on regardless. She's built for speed, and this certainly proves to be the case from the moment she gets in the air. Her teeth in particular are particularly needle-like, and several of them are visible even with her mouth closed.
Personality: Dalsath is vicious. Whether it's hunting, fighting Thread, or having a flight, she throws herself into everything with every last tooth and claw she's got--and hers are especially sharp. Dalsath is more than ready to go at a moment's notice, and her impulsive nature means that she's easy to convince to try new things; unfortunately, she doesn't tend to think before she leaps, and can easily get herself into something of a pickle by acting before she has much information at all. She's as competitive as Aurizore, and has her own running score with her brother, Komideth--she's determined to win, and will not accept anything less. This can lead to occasional explosions if she comes up short in their never-ending race, and even arguments; still, out of everyone, Komideth is the one dragon she will always forgive, even if he tests her rather short patience on the regular. Dalsath may be full of vitriol and poor life choices, but there are softer sides to this Green--they're just hard to gain access to. She's intensely loyal and dedicated, and once she's put herself in someone's corner, it takes a truly devastating betrayal to finally convince her that she's made the wrong choice. Dalsath doesn't take such things well, however, and will become sulky and withdrawn, as well as even more short-tempered than she already is. Her hearts bleed easily when wounded, and while it takes her quite some time to recover, she will never allow herself to be injured in the same way again. Those that cross her had best remove themselves from her sight--she will be far less merciful the next time she finds them, and wears her hatred quite openly. All of her feelings are easy to read, and she finds this quite irritating; she hates it when others pin her down so easily, but she just can't seem to mask her emotions for the life of her.
Name: A'zan Age: 20 Nameday: 3556.06.01 Sex: Male Sexual Orientation: Homosexual Status: Single Weyr: Western Weyr Rider Rank: Wingrider Previous Rank/Craft: Weyrbrat
Physical Description: A'zan is average in build, although he's far more lanky than his sister--he stands at 5'9", and sometimes throws heeled boots into his wardrobe specifically to antagonize Aurizore. He appears a bit more bookish, with slim glasses and a somewhat conservative wardrobe out of personal preference--aside from that, he has somewhat of a youthful face, rounded and a little soft. Even so, his features have the same resting scowl that Aurizore also fell victim to, leading to an almost comical appearance that he finds incredibly irritating. His eyes are a vivid violet, and they've got clear bags under them from long nights of studying during weyrlinghood. His lips are a touch thin and always seem pressed together, like he's thought of something that he knows he shouldn't say; he has a single silver ring in his lower lip square in the middle, and he worries it with his teeth when worked up. His hair is a dark brown, almost black, and falls in loose curls, barely brushing his eyebrows--it's usually combed to one side, with everything but the top kept neatly trimmed. He's quite particular about it, and will not allow it to get too long.
Personality: A'zan can be somewhat overwhelming at first impression--exaggerated and almost boisterous, he cuts a somewhat distinctive figure with his mannerisms, talking just as fast with his hands as he does verbally. He's highly sociable and is a neat, well-kept person, but his enthusiasm sometimes gets the best of him, quickly turning him into a fast-paced tornado. A'zan is genuinely a delight to hang out with, and is a generous man who's well known for showering his close compatriots in all manner of treats and favors--but at the same time, he can often be a bit too much for people, especially the more shy sorts. A'zan can be rather intense, focusing far too intently on one subject (or person) until he's able to extract an answer or information that he's satisfied with--once he latches on to an object of interest, he's not likely to let go until he gets what he's after. He always seems to be at some high-key level of stress, and claims that he operates best at a particular critical mass of pressure; however, this means that he's prone to blowouts if he isn't able to keep himself balanced, and his temper is some shade of legendary when he's hit a low point. This is at least something he's been trying to restrain, recognizing that it isn't exactly fair to subject others to that when it's of his own making; A'zan isn't immune to self-examination, but he's done perhaps a bit less of it by now than he should have.
Unsurprisingly, A'zan matches Komideth well with his competitive streak, and it's practically as wide as the ocean. He's been constantly trying to (mostly good-naturedly) one-up his twin, Aurizore, ever since the two of them were born, and their never-ending competition keeps going strong to this day. If he selects another rival, it's guaranteed that it won't be as intense a competition as his with Aurizore is--on the downside, though, it's more likely to inspire some level of a grudge in him. He can always find it in his heart to forgive Aurizore, but other people are a bit more...complicated to work around, in his experience. A'zan can be belligerent or a sore loser, but recovers quickly, buoyed by his own confidence and Komideth's reassurance; while plenty of people can say he's egotistical, he at least has the good sense not to go bragging about it to everyone and their mother. He knows when to shut up, and will usually do so without much complaint. There's a time and place for everything, and part of growing up is learning when and where that is--while he'll have no qualms with letting his accomplishments be known in the right setting, he's not a blowhard otherwise, save for if he's trying to have a debate with Aurizore over who did the cooler thing this last sevenday. Out of everyone on Pern, Aurizore is always able to get under his skin, no matter how much he tries to prevent it. He's very close with his sister, but does not appear to be letting go of their back-and-forth, either.
History: The question of who was born first was one that was thrown back and forth forever for young Aurizore and Aruzant, enough to the point where it sparked their first real conflict--and from there, the competition began. The pair were fraternal twins, their parents a pair of Blueriders at Western who had been trying for a family, but hadn't quite expected two children at once. Aruzant excelled more in lessons, while Aurizore was particularly excellent when put to physical tasks; despite the difference in their strengths, they were always evenly matched one way or another, and their sibling rivalry blossomed more and more as they got older. By the time they were Candidates, it could well and truly be said that they were constantly trying to outdo each other, doing whatever extra work was possible in order to get an edge on the other--although they were careful not to go too far and ruin their positions as Candidates, they were certainly a handful for the Candidatemasters to keep a hold of.
Their first Turn standing came and went, without either of them Impressing. Neither of them were worried--this happened all the time, after all, and they'd been told time and time again that it was merely a waiting game. Aurizore was a bit less patient than Aruzant was, but he was able to smooth things over rather easily with his dearest sister, taking some of the edge off her anxieties before they could grow too sharp. Between the two of them, they remained confident, waiting for the day they knew would come--and sure enough, it did. At first, the pair of hatchlings coming for them were assumed to be a threat, or at least a significant concern; both of them were by no means playing nicely with each other, and Aruzant didn't have time to react as Aurizore was tackled by the smaller Green, brought to the sand with little fanfare. He himself would be body slammed the same way by the Blue, who promptly introduced himself as Komideth in the process of bemoaning his loss--they'd been racing, and he'd been just a bit too slow. Surely his A'zan wouldn't care, right? He was still a winner, wasn't he? Of course he was. A'zan didn't care that the impact had left him with a few cuts and bruises--those were easy enough to fix, especially with the resulting trip to the healers on the sidelines. He had his dragon now, but just as importantly, so did his sister; they wouldn't be separated, and neither of them would be alone.
Weyrlinghood was easy for A'zan, although Komideth needed a bit of encouragement to actually put some effort into things; training and drills put enough of a spine in Komideth to where he shaped up, however, and they graduated safely with the rest of their class. Inwardly, A'zan was a bit surprised they hadn't had to take more remedial classes, but they'd done their best, and that was that. As full riders, Komideth got to truly show his flame, taking to threadfighting with a particular kind of delight that would have surprised A'zan if he hadn't seen it coming; as soon as he'd been given the opportunity to pit himself against something else, Komideth proved that he was fierce competition. Thread was just another thing to fight, and hopefully conquer--even if it bit back. A'zan himself quickly rose to the challenge, although his worry for his sister weighed on him; the pair remain very close, and check in on each other frequently to ensure they're both doing alright.
Other: Has an unreal tolerance for spicy food, and has eaten a truly horrifying assortment of unfortunate things on dares with Aurizore. Exchanged flit eggs with his sister for their shared birthday, and was intensely amused when he got a Green and she got a Blue out of it.
Name: Komideth Age: 5 Color: Blue Status: Single Size: 50' Physical Description: Whereas his sister Dalsath is sharp all the way through, Komideth is somewhat the opposite--he's a very soft Blue, a little pudgy and barrel-chested, and is mostly made of rounded edges. He still possesses plenty of his hatchling fat, and his appetite hasn't helped much, either, giving him quite a bit of padding that he argues is merely designed to protect him from the cold of between. Komideth is somewhat stubby as well, but this hasn't affected the sheer power he can muster, it seems; he's particularly proud of his jumps, and requires little encouragement to show off how quickly he can get into the air on his good days. Komideth does have a notable limp from a tangle of thread around his back left leg, however, and it gives him trouble from time to time. He's always at his most grumpy when it acts up.
Personality: Voracious and eager to get his piece of the pie, Komideth is always doing so much. The problem is that he isn't doing a lot of things at all--usually, he's simply overdramatic about everything instead. He's just as competitive as A'zan is, especially when pitted against Dalsath, and is quick to show his teeth in stressful situations; or really any situations at all, for that matter. Even though he'll display his irritation at the drop of a hat, it takes a lot for Komideth to actually bother to do something about whatever's pissing him off--he's somewhat of a lazy Blue, preferring to let things sort themselves out rather than getting involved. Komideth has a taste for the finer things in life, and will gladly go above and beyond any expected amount of effort from him in order to secure a better reward if it's offered. If whatever you're dangling in front of him isn't to his taste, however, expect him to turn up his nose at it with no hesitation. He knows his own worth, and will not accept anything less than his due. His self-confidence ensures that he can withstand plenty--above all else, he knows he's the best judge of his own character, and whatever comments others may throw at him will hardly dent him. Perhaps he can be a bit self-absorbed, but you have to love yourself, right? Aside from himself, the only ones that matter as much are His, Dalsath, and Hers--unsurprisingly, Komideth doesn't exactly make friends easily, and isn't exactly inclined to let others get particularly close to him. Why go through all that effort when he has everyone he needs already, as far as he's aware? Unless a potential friend can really wow him, Komideth is likely to simply pass up the opportunity rather than go through spending all that time. There's no guarantee that it'll even work out, after all, and then it all would have been a waste.
Name: Guarath
Name: Eketh
Name: Kinth
Name: Dalsath
Name: Komideth