felena of gold prigdith s'gatte of bronze vanidoth
high reaches
t'sar of bronze borsolanth ve'kai of bronze scalvoth odai of brown salzanath m'harz of blue cryomath n'ran of blue cavumuth l'yn of blue lagoriath haska of blue zilohuuth inkhoura of green sheladth m'non of green sovraith
wherhandlers
barrut of bronze barrusk ambridelle of blue ambrisk caeliat of green caelisk solivar of green solisk
KEY :: name - preference - poly status - difficulty preference - who they're most likely to be interested in based on gender poly status - whether or not they'd be down for multiple partners difficulty rating - 1-5 *s. how long it's gonna take to get feelings.
HR - HUMAN
C'asta - no preference - no poly - *** R'aum - no preference - poly ok! - ** R'gal - no preference - poly ok! - * I'ar - no preference - unsure - **** [plotted!] Amodine - no preference - poly ok! - ** A'ide - no preference - poly ok! - ** [unavailable due to weyrling!] Kedriom - no preference - unsure - *** Vaniwrynn - male only - unsure - ***** [maybe plotted!]
HR - DRAGON
Chiareth - female preference - no poly - *** Modrioth - no preference - no poly - *** Yihoth - male preference - poly ok! - ** Alkaneth - no preference - poly ok! - * Elpisath - no preference - poly ok! - * [unavailable until adult]
WESTERN - HUMAN
A'yral - male only - no poly - ***** D'nov - no preference - poly ok! - *** Keerim - female only - unsure - * S'eran - no preference - poly ok! - ** Aurizore - female only - no poly - ** V'di - no preference - no poly - * Xeothine - female preference - no poly - *** K'ino - no preference - poly ok! - ** Solai - no preference - poly ok! - ** A'zan - male only - no poly - *** Sulesh - male preference - poly ok! - * [plotted!] Rosik - no preference - poly ok! - ** G'ren - no preference - poly ok! - ** S'ven - male only - unsure - ** T'shal - no preference - no poly - *** Ciraine - no preference - poly ok! - **
WESTERN - DRAGON
Venjeth - male preference - no poly - ***** Wrath - female preference - no poly - *** Zeuliath - no preference - poly ok! - ** [unavailable until adult] Fujiath - female only - poly ok! - * Guarath - female preference - no poly - **** [unavailable until adult] Dalsath - female only - no poly - ** Kinth - no preference - poly ok! - * Eketh - no preference - no poly - * Shevauth - male preference - poly ok! - ** Tokochath - no preference - unsure - *** Komideth - male only - no poly - *** Moth - no preference - poly ok! *** Sharmanyth - no preference - poly ok! * Hassoriath - male preference - poly ok! - ** Gokarith - male preference - poly ok! - ***
Posted: Mon Sep 28, 2020 7:14 pm
Name: C'asta. Age: 25. Nameday: 3550/13/27 Sex: Male. Sexual Orientation: Asexual. Status: Single. Weyr: High Reaches Weyr. Rider Rank: Watchrider. Previous Rank/Craft: Weyrbrat. Physical Description: A tall, thin, and almost painfully drawn man, C'asta has about as much substance to him as a dry noodle. It's not that he doesn't take care of himself--he's just naturally wiry, albeit to an extreme. He stands at 6'7", not to mention stock straight constantly, and doesn't seem to be able to physically relax, either. If he ever has, no one's managed to see it yet, so it might as well just be hearsay. It's as though he's strung up with razor wire, always tensed and ready to go at a moment's notice--there's a certain look about him that implies he's not just an empty threat, and it's truly a mystery where he inherited that from. His features are just as sharp as the rest of him, with high, almost bladed cheekbones and deep-set golden eyes that are just as piercing as any hawk's. His skin is a deep brown, which makes his almost platinum blond hair stand out all the more by contrast alone. C'asta abstains from getting too involved with its styling, simply pushing it back and away from his face--the end result is a rather frizzy ponytail that ends in a bright shock of near-white, poofing out behind his head with little concern for how it looks. He always has some kind of frown on his face, although it's just as likely that his face is simply like that--one thing's for sure, he certainly isn't going to clarify any time soon. He has a single gold nose ring set with a small stone as close to the color of Chiareth's hide as he could find, but abstains from any jewelry or fancy adornments aside from that. His clothes are always plain and utilitarian, and are especially sturdy, reinforced with his own careful work to ensure they'll last for as long as possible. He favors dark, unsaturated colors with periodic white accents, and will only rarely add a little green trim here and there if he's really feeling like indulging himself that day.
Personality: On edge and always looking out for any signs of trouble on the horizon, C'asta never seems to slow down enough to properly relax. He's not an antsy sort--there's no fidgeting, no uncertain wavering to accompany his decision-making process or day-to-day life. To jitter and jolt is a waste of time and energy, and he would never dream of being wasteful. C'asta is as carefully weighted as a dagger and just as sharp, simply looking for the right opportunity to be used where he's needed. The idea of being needed is especially important to him, and he practically lives for the idea of it. In order to best secure his place in the world, C'asta has concocted a special plan for himself to ensure he will always be ready--through its application, he lives by a very, very structured set of rules that dictate his life, and he's especially strict about sticking to them to the very letter. It's hard for him to work outside of his daily regimen, and being thrown out of what he's used to will throw him ridiculously far off his balance. He's good at maintaining his composure even in the face of such things, but he can only handle so much before he breaks. C'asta is a very high-strung individual, and while he responds well to stress, he's absolutely at his worst both for forming grudges and making his opinions very well known when he's been pushed too far. He's tightly guarded and intensely suspicious of new faces, working through no less than ten individual checks every time he meets someone new to make sure that they are, in fact, who they say they are, among other things. This, coupled with the fact that he's somewhat of a wet blanket, means that he's not a particularly popular individual, which suits him fine--the isolation just means that he has less to distract him from what he needs to do.
He sticks to the status quo that's been laid out before him, fully content to fulfill his role and do as he's told. He's hardly rebellious, but he has an odd sort of respect for the people who are strong enough to buck tradition--while he can't imagine living without the kind of framework that the old ways provide, he can, at the very least, admire the kind of courage and dedication it takes to strike out on one's own like that, especially considering how many ties such a thing will cut. C'asta has no aspirations to follow in their footsteps--certainly not!--but he's still surprisingly sympathetic to them, and may even lend a subtle hand here and there, provided he can get away with it without being noticed by anyone that outranks him. He figures it's the least he can do for someone who's so completely screwed themselves over like that, personal strength or no. The old ways are still going strong for a reason, after all, and he finds it difficult to believe that changing them will do much good. Genuinely, C'asta is afraid of what a life of freedom would mean--no restraint, no rules to follow, nothing to help hold him in place...it sounds like his worst nightmare, if he's honest. He does his best when he's given a set of tasks to fill, orders to follow, and without something over his head, he's not sure what he'd do in the slightest. That's not to say that C'asta doesn't have any initiative or ambition for himself, however, but he knows his place isn't a lofty one, and is quite content where he's at. That, and he genuinely does enjoy his job; his keen eyes and worrisome nature do their part, making him a shockingly efficient watchrider, if not overzealous. He's good at figuring out what needs to be done and how to do it in just the best way, and doesn't get caught up in overcomplicating details with far too much thought--if it needs to be done, it'll get done, and as neatly as possible, too.
Positive Trait List Practical, level-headed, orderly, precise, strong work ethic, tactical. Negative Trait List Guarded, suspicious, sour, morose, vindictive, inflexible. History: Truly, there isn't much to say about C'asta. It's not that he's an incredibly bland sort who hasn't done anything in his life--he just responds to it all in a way that isn't particularly exciting. His list of achievements reads much the same as a shopping list, despite the fact that he's excelled in all his classes and training, and boasts an almost spotless record. But before all that, he was...actually more or less the same, just smaller. A lot smaller. Born Cariasta to a loving pair of Greenrider mothers thanks to their non-rider donor, it was clear from the start that he was a very particular child. He wasn't a troublemaker in the slightest--far from it, in actuality, to the point where he gained something of a reputation as a snitch, much to his social detriment. But Cariasta didn't particularly care for the opinions of his peers, instead longing for the approval of whoever happened to be in charge of him at the time. He was always in both of his mothers' shadows, somewhat uncertain as to where he belonged, but starting to get the idea: he could be needed when he was older, and maybe even seen as someone to turn to in times of trouble. There was one very, very special way to make that happen, and he had his inspiration right there in front of him.
He could become a dragonrider, just like his parents.
It's no surprise that he immediately took his birthright and stood on the Sands at the first possible opportunity presented to him--as a fully-fledged rider, he could be someone useful, someone with a purpose, and maybe even someone respected. He held no dreamy aspirations of Impressing a Bronze or anything like that, already having decided that such authority wasn't for him; some people were meant to lead, and Cariasta didn't figure himself for one of them. A Blue would be just fine, or a Brown if he was getting a bit ahead of himself--secretly, though, he truly wanted a Green, thinking that following in his mothers' footsteps would be a perfect fit for him. His first Hatching came and went without him Impressing, and Cariasta didn't let that trouble him. He'd already drafted contingency plans, albeit far more loosely than the ones he'd later come to craft, and had prepared himself for a number of outcomes. When his second Hatching saw him passed over once more, Cariasta was a bit more concerned in spite of himself, the trickling chill of doubt taking hold almost in mockery of all his preparations. He would turn fifteen before another Hatching would come, and he did everything he could to better himself in the meantime, growing gangly and standing far above most of his classmates, at least physically. He was far more unsteady on his feet than he would've liked when he came back to the Sands again, still learning how to keep his forehead from getting smashed open on any doorframes.
That third Hatching saw Chiareth emerge from a tiny egg on the outskirts of the clutch, and when she came for him and only him, C'asta cried tears of joy for the first time in his life.
She saw everything there was in him and understood--more than that, she wanted to be there for him, to be His, as long as he would be Hers. C'asta couldn't believe it, and his mothers were absolutely ecstatic that their boy had finally Impressed; while some may have been disappointed in a Green of all things, they couldn't have been more proud. C'asta left the Sands with a delicate bundle of pale Green in his arms, nuzzled up under his chin and singing his praises. Chiareth's hatchday is widely considered to be the only day C'asta ever showed visible joy at all, a mythical day for the storybooks when his demeanor is considered. From there, the two excelled in weyrling training, with C'asta's near obsession with the rules serving them well in keeping them above board. It didn't take him long to decide that they would make phenomenal watchriders, when his own attention to detail and Chiareth's love of both isolation and the great wide open was considered; as was expected, they took the role with ease after they graduated, and have remained on guard through Threadfall and everything else that could be thrown their way.
Other: You could probably throw him like a javelin if you wanted, but I wouldn't recommend that.
Name: Chiareth Age: 10 Color: Green Status: Single Size: 48' Physical Description: Chiareth is a robust example of a green, well-built and sturdy in stark contrast to her rider's...everything. She's got a particularly thick tail and wide wings that allow for faster turns and maneuvers at the cost of some endurance, and she tends to stick to a more acrobatic style of flying as a result. Her hide is a lovely mint green with a paler underbelly, wingsails, and glove-like markings, dotted with strands of darker spots that adorn her neck and legs like jewelry before trailing along the outer edges of her wingsails. She has a long, sharp snout, and has a look about her that makes her always seem to be smiling about some private secret she's keeping. Her fingers are long and spindly, enough to where they kind of look a little creepy; as a hatchling, they were soft and stubby, but something clearly happened along the way to adulthood. She only uses this trait for mischief against C'asta, knowing full well that she's the only one who can get away with such things. Personality: Casual, warm, and eloquent, Chiareth is a ray of sunshine to C'asta's dark clouds on the horizon. She's more understated than outgoing by far, preferring to simply sit back and watch what happens from a more comfortable position away from anything that could drag her too far in. She's very particular on being able to control her involvement in situations, and she always has at least five different outs cultivated for both herself and Hers, should they need them; she doesn't get agitated easily, but the best way to ensure it happens is to keep her from removing herself when she wants to. Chiareth hates being in crowds or confined spaces, much preferring somewhere she can spread her wings and give herself a decent amount of breathing room--there's little she loves more than just going out for a flight when their duties are all attended to, cruising through the clouds with only Hers and the rush of the wind over her hide. She's not a thrillseeker, and is actively averse to things that could put too much undue stress on her; at times, she can come off as coldhearted for her severity in dealing with such matters, considering the fact that she handles them with extreme prejudice. No, she will not be involved, thank you very much, and you can keep such offers to yourself in the future, too. It's not uncommon for her to remain angry about such things for far longer than necessary, although she's good at holding her tongue to hide these more unpleasant feelings. Even though she has such a way with words, Chiareth doesn't know how to successfully communicate her own desires without a lot of frustration and eventual snapping, feeling as though she has to find a way to convince herself that she's allowed to feel like that in the first place. Her job as a watchdragon is very important to her, as the role is important to Hers, but sometimes she wishes they would have a little more free time to simply be rather than having to think about their work all the time.
When she's in a good mood, however, Chiareth fancies herself something of a social butterfly. It's not difficult for her to get on with others, although she keeps such socialization to little more than surface level. She's just as dedicated to her work as C'asta is to his, and doesn't see much point in complicating matters any further with deeper attachments. She's totally fine with being casual friends! Absolutely! Anything more complicated than that, however, isn't likely to gain much traction. Even still, she's been known to wax melancholic about what could have been from time to time, especially in the realm of personal relationships. Chiareth is almost as nervous about the idea of change as Hers is, though, and she's not about to rock the boat just because she got a little sad for a few days. That would be foolish, no matter how tempting the idea can get sometimes. Dragon Art:[ starter pack derg! ]
Name: R'aum Age: 29 Nameday: 3546/02/08 Sex: Male. Sexual Orientation: Things are complicated. (Panromantic and confused.) Status: Single Weyr: High Reaches Weyr. Rider Rank: Wingrider. Previous Rank/Craft: Trader. Physical Description: R'aum is...kind of just average all around. He doesn't boast shocking good looks or an incredibly alluring physique, and is instead very much the kind of person that looks like you'd lose them in a crowd if you weren't paying them your full attention. He stands at about 6' flat, but usually slouches or otherwise shifts his weight around to get the load off his bad leg, which makes his height a little unreliable. His face is soft, somewhat rounded, and wholly unremarkable, with almond-shaped eyes glinting a soft blue-green that is by no means vibrant, and a small nose that's faintly upturned at the tip. R'aum wears his hair short and loose, rarely ever allowing it to pass chin length, and it's a dull dishwater blonde, somewhat on the darker side. His skin is a fairly middle-of-the-road tan, with a gentle dusting of freckles on his cheeks, shoulders, and chest. His right leg is something of a mess of scars, still showing clear evidence of the mauling he received at his first Hatching. Surprisingly, he didn't manage to lose any toes, but the damage is significant enough to where it gives him a permanent limp, not to mention some trouble when the weather changes.
Personality: R'aum is perhaps far too chill of a dude to be doing something so serious as fighting Thread. It's not that he doesn't understand the magnitude of the situation or the potential consequences, especially when the ancient enemy is concerned, he just--tends to take a very relaxed approach to most things, and sometimes that blows up in his face. He keeps a very above-board work ethic when it comes to his duties as a rider, but as far as everything else goes, he's far less particular. R'aum isn't fussed about the details of his life or just about anything that goes on within it--unless it proves to be a detriment to him. When there's difficulties afoot, his mood changes quite drastically, instead heading straight for...bad, to be honest. He doesn't respond well to significant setbacks or anything that throws a big enough wrench in his day to be noticeable, and almost always jumps right to the most negative conclusions possible for both why it's happening and what the eventual outcome may be. Once he's in a bad mood, it tends to stick around for at least a few days until he can finally let himself let go of it. Once it's over, it's completely over, as far as he's concerned--except, not really. Outwardly, he'll move past whatever made him upset in the first place, but he's entirely liable to stew in it for quite some time afterward.
He's easy to talk to and get to know, with little objections to telling others the more personal details of his life--he knows when to stop in order to avoid unwanted oversharing, but he likes to hold himself as an open book. Why should he be worried? It's not as if he has anything to hide. Still, he uses this open door policy of his as something of a test for others--he's careful to monitor their reactions and how they treat him after. If he finds something unfavorable or a response he isn't a fan of, he's quick to put on a mask of politeness in order to disguise the distaste he feels. It takes a long time for R'aum to genuinely trust anyone enough to show them who he is at the core rather than who he appears to be. R'aum is incredibly picky when it comes to who he deems safe enough to be in his personal circle, sometimes going too far and blocking out others out of reflex rather than any real reason. He's fine with acquaintances and friends, but anyone who's after a deeper connection is going to run into plenty of problems on the way. Despite his internal conflicts, R'aum does actually love helping others, as long as it's not heavy emotional labor. He's at his happiest when he can work with his hands and get his mind off of anything else, and he's particularly resourceful, making him a handyman worth having around. While it can be somewhat difficult to get him to do something if it's not a task he's particularly enthusiastic about, it's easy to nudge him toward making good on his promises with a little conversation. He loves having company around, especially to chat with while he's working, and is almost always willing to have others over for whatever reason. When he's not in some shade of a bad mood, R'aum's doors are always open, and he doesn't have much of a concept of personal privacy--his weyr is your weyr, as far as he's concerned. He has very little that he's not willing to share in some way or another, although how open he is with his generosity is by far the easiest way to tell his personal opinion of someone. If he likes them, he'll have no issues--if not, no matter how hard he tries to hold on to that polite facade, it's liable to crack with barely any pressure at all.
He shows his anger in far less blatant ways, instead withholding help and items he could contribute, among other things; while this doesn't extend to fighting Thread out of a desire to avoid heavy consequences, he's not above being a pain in the a** on the ground when he can. R'aum is careful to keep this as below board as he can, though, and won't actively do anything that would ruin his reputation as a friendly, useful guy to have around. He's very mindful of what others think of him, and while he might not act on their opinions at all, he certainly does keep it in mind, sometimes to the point of detriment. If he knows he's about to do something with someone that doesn't like him, sometimes he won't put in anywhere near as much effort, simply because he's convinced himself it's going to end badly regardless of what he does. In this manner, he can sabotage his own relationships with others rather than working to build them up, and although he knows he's doing it, he finds it difficult to derail this kind of thought.
At his best, R'aum is a quick-thinking, adaptable individual who would love nothing more than to help out. He knows his standing as a Brownrider of High Reaches affords him a perfect niche--he has responsibilities and duties to uphold, sure, but he has status without having to deal with the same level of pressure that a Bronzerider would. He's in a comfortable place, and if there's something he can do to help those that he likes, he'll absolutely do it. Maintaining his rank is important, but not necessarily for the standard High Reaches reasons--he's not in it for power or because he's working on traditional ideas. More than anything, R'aum wants Modrioth to be happy, and although the highly-structured life of the Weyr doesn't quite suit him, he has no problem with making it work for the sake of his dragon. Modrioth matters more to him than literally anything else in the world, and he hardly needs anyone else when he's got his Brown by his side. He doesn't exactly see the reason to get to know people in a deeper sense, seeing as he's already got his most trusted companion and bondmate, but at the very least, he does understand why it's important to at least try. Is he good at taking his own advice, though? Not particularly.
Positive Trait List: Easygoing, good-humored, welcoming, casual, helpful. Negative Trait List: Unambitious, unmotivated, pessimistic, hypercritical, two-faced. History: A small-scale trader born to a traveling caravan, Rinaum specialized in...junk, honestly. Sure, he'd brag that his collection was made up of storied antiques and mysterious valuables long since lost to the sands of time (before he recovered them, of course), but unsurprisingly, he never really managed to make that many marks in the process. Still, his social skills and propensity for attracting attention with flashy displays kept him useful, not to mention his insistence on lending a hand wherever possible. In the end, he made a reputation for himself as more of a handyman than a purveyor of legendary relics, picking up slack or patching up holes often before his caravan had the time to notice there was even a problem at all. Rinaum was well-loved, even if he didn't seem to have much drive to better himself, and seemed to have no trouble making a decent, if uninspiring, living.
Everything changed when he was Searched on what was supposed to be a routine stop to peddle some of their collective wares. Rinaum, with no plans for his own life and with plenty of encouragement from his extended trading family at his heels, decided--why not go for it? If it didn't work out, he could always come back to the band, probably. It wouldn't hurt, right? High Reaches couldn't be that bad. His first Hatching proved a little different. Rinaum was standing in the wrong place at the wrong time, and wound up being taken off the Sands with a rather significantly mauled leg--the resulting limp almost was enough to make him drop out of candidacy altogether, but without knowing where his band even was to go home to, he decided he was better off waiting just a little longer, at least until he could definitely go home. Not five months later, his second Hatching appeared on the horizon; although he was particularly hesitant to stand again, this time went far, far better.
He was approached, calmly and coolly, by the Brown that emerged from his favorite egg--he'd had a good feeling about that one, and while Rinaum wasn't sure he wanted to get his hopes up, he was almost willing to do just that when he'd seen it on the Sands properly for the Hatching. Rinaum expected to be passed over, or maybe even slapped around again, but instead, the little Brown simply sat beside him, curling his almost ungainly long tail around his legs and giving a soft rumble of contentment. That was the first moment he knew Modrioth--not with any kind of words, but instead a feeling. The Brown seemed to be everything he wasn't, and R'aum was baffled as to why he'd been chosen; Modrioth swatted those doubts aside, leaning in closer. There was no more room for that, now. He was here, and they had much to do. But first, weyrling training. Then--then, there was much to do.
When they finished after what felt like an eternity, Modrioth had successfully managed to instill at least a little bit of drive into R'aum. Perhaps not as much as he would've liked, but it was a good start. Still grumbling about that limp he'd been assured would be temporary, R'aum decided he should look into slipping away from High Reaches in favor of somewhere a bit less...intense, disliking the thought of being reformed into a perfect dragonrider according to their specifications. After some convincing, Modrioth decided the plan couldn't be that bad, and they left after another Turn of dealing with life at the Weyr, returning to R'aum's home band following a few months of searching for them. Now, R'aum was something else entirely. He wasn't a junk salesman, or really a handyman anymore, even though he still did whatever he could to keep the gears turning. Even though he felt at home with his family, it never really clicked in quite the same way as it used to, and R'aum found himself growing melancholic. Modrioth was far less of a fan of their new arrangement, and he disliked the idea of being reduced down to an overgrown guard wherry even more. It became clear to both of them that they didn't belong here, and although they stomached it for a few more Turns, it left the both of them feeling dissatisfied and ultimately, conflicted. Had they really made the right choice in leaving the Weyr and coming back here of all places? Modrioth couldn't help but feel like his potential was being squandered, and R'aum couldn't pin down what he felt. In short, it was hardly good.
They came slinking back to the Weyr, fully expecting to never hear the end of it. Instead, they returned just in time to witness the first Threadfall in centuries, and all their training had to be put to use. They'd have to be yelled at later--for now, there was Thread to flame, and people to protect. R'aum still doesn't know if he made the right decision in coming back to High Reaches, but it's far too late to change his mind now. Other: He presses flowers in his spare time, but would prefer if nobody knew about that.
Name: Modrioth Age: 14 Color: Brown Status: Single Size: 74' Physical Description: With a long, serpentine body and a sinuous grace, Modrioth moves like flowing water and looks almost eerie. His tail is long and whiplike, and his legs are thin, skinny things that almost make sense when the rest of his oddly lean build is taken into account. He doesn't look unhealthy, fortunately enough; he's just...very slim, with little padding laid over the muscles underneath. His eyes are deeply set into their sockets, and his eyeridges are somewhat downturned, giving him a constant baleful look no matter what he does. Modrioth himself doesn't seem to mind. His torso is equally long, almost to the point of being disproportionate, and he's very flexible for his size. The downside is that he's far more likely to get tangled up in his own everything when sleeping. Modrioth's hide is a rich brown that darkens along his spine and the back half of his wings. The underside of his wingsails are a light, almost leather color, and his hide is starkly marked with a few skeletal markings in a bright cream. He takes special pride in these markings, and will grow utterly furious if they're besmirched. Personality: Cool, calculated, and aloof, Modrioth has much, much more initiative than his rider does. He's incredibly concerned with how he's maintaining his image, and loves gathering up all the juiciest bits of gossip and information to hoard for just the right moment. He's almost surgical in his approach to social situations, and can be somewhat unsettling with his mere presence alone--he's watchful to the extreme, and takes particular care in picking apart the weaknesses of others. It's not from much of a malicious drive, either; he's simply interested in seeing what makes people tick, and what better way to understand them than to work through their faults and what may have caused them?
He has a strong interest in both decay and preservation, and uses his keenly scientific mind to try and figure out ways to prevent rot--through this practice, however, he's learned a few more generalized lessons, better suited to his views rather than his hobbies. For one, he's taken to heart that entropy does have its place, and has grown to be quite at peace with the notion of an inevitable end to things; he's actually a surprisingly sympathetic dragon in that regard, but his sentiments may not always come across how he intends. While he does have a way with words, Modrioth is less skilled with properly understanding someone else's feelings, even though he thinks he's got it down pat. He has a tendency to try and predict how an interaction is going to go long before it actually unfolds, and is always baffled when it doesn't happen how he thought it would--the easiest way to catch him off-guard is to simply talk to him for more than a few minutes in order to make him run out of his prepared script, at which point you get to interact with him on a more genuine level. He kind of hates it, mainly for the fact that allowing people to see him for himself means that he's the one being examined and picked apart. Modrioth is very strict about being in control of how others see him, hence his tendency toward staying in the shadows--for the tables to be turned on him is a horrifying concept that he'd rather not experience. Dragon Art:[ Starter pack derg! ]
Name: R'gal. Age: 30. Nameday: 3546.05.17 Sex: Male. Sexual Orientation: Bisexual. Status: Single Weyr: High Reaches Weyr. Rider Rank: Wingrider. Previous Rank/Craft: Weyrbrat.
Physical Description: R'gal is a sunbleached, windblown mess at almost all times. His hair is a light dirty blonde that stands out against his deeply tanned skin, streaked with brighter highlights from far too much time outdoors, and he seems to have little to no concern for how he keeps it--if it gets in his face, he'll deal with that when it happens, but he's not incredibly fussed about handling it preemptively. His build is fairly average, even somewhat on the smaller side, and he seems to be designed more for agility than sheer strength. He stands at a somewhat respectable 5'10" and is easily dwarfed by his dragon, a fact that he doesn't seem to mind too much. His face is sharp and angular, with high cheekbones and a hooked nose sitting proud despite the very obvious break it's sustained. R'gal is almost always smiling, smirking, or grinning, and his eyes are a pale violet that possess a certain captivating kind of twinkle to them. His ears are pierced, as is his septum, and he wears simple gold hoops in each. He often wears a few small strands of shell beads interspersed with turquoise, a common color in his outfits--he claims it goes perfectly with Yihoth's hide, and he's always dressing to complement his dragon. Generally speaking, his clothes are light and loose, with perhaps a little more exposed skin than is necessary. As a whole, they're usually in varying shades of bright blue with earth tones and creams to break it up a little better, and there's little in the way of fancy ornamentation to be found. Personality: A talkative, high-energy, thrillseeking man whose only sense of impulse control is his pushover of a dragon, R'gal is always on the go. He loves people and tries to always be in the middle of a crowd at all times, or at least in the presence of more than one person--how else is he going to socialize how he'd like? He wants to find all kinds of new and exciting ways to bring people together, but unfortunately isn't the best at keeping everybody's boundaries in mind, meaning he can sometimes go too far in his excitement. He's somewhat airheaded and finds it difficult to keep his focus in one place outside of high-stress situations, and in his downtime, can usually be found bouncing from one task to another until he manages to finish all of them. He's most often in search of the most exciting, captivating thing out there, with no time to stop and relax--Yihoth does his best to get R'gal to chill out for a bit when he can, but for the most part, he's usually dragging them along on whatever adventure holds his attention at the time. He wants to get out there and do everything he can while he's got the opportunity to do so, figuring that there really is no time like the present; and besides, what's wrong with being impulsive? It just means he has less time to stress himself out by trying to overthink things, and he's of the opinion that his instincts serve him far better than his rationality ever has. They got him this far, anyway, and he thinks that gives them an excellent track record.
R'gal tries to live in the moment, preferring to keep the party rolling by not getting too overburdened by the past. Still, sometimes his thoughts get the best of him, and when the ball stops, he tends to isolate himself while he sorts through all the internal distress self-review brings. Looking back on his faults and flaws is a really good way to get himself depressed, and as a result, R'gal does his best to avoid doing that whenever possible. He's fully aware that he can learn from his own mistakes, but he can figure that kind of thing out without causing himself any undue angst, thank you very much. He's plenty resourceful enough on his own, after all. Despite his best efforts, he still has to deal with some of the self-doubt and uncertainty he grew up with, and can second-guess himself if he lets himself have enough time to do so. Yihoth has been a great influence on him in that regard, considering the fact that they're inseparable and support each other extensively, but R'gal is prone to falling into pits of despair despite his happy-go-lucky outlook when he dwells on a few taboo topics for too long. First and foremost of these is his family--he's not on excellent terms with them, and is working to dig himself out of the hole he got himself into by trying to live up to their desires rather than his own. He's far more self-conscious than he lets on, and even though he's gotten quite good at covering it up, there's enough cracks in the facade to where it's noticeable if one looks closely enough. Positive Trait List: Enthusiastic, optimistic, energetic, a social butterfly, accepting, basically a golden retriever. Negative Trait List: Self-doubting, no sense of boundaries, overeager, foolhardy, doesn't take his own limits into account, doesn't look before he leaps.
History: The son of a Bronze and Goldrider pair, R'gal had a lot of familial pressure on him to succeed. He was supposed to grow up to be the best of the best, according to his father's rules and expectations, and for the first decade and change of his life, did everything he could to try and meet those specifications. He couldn't disappoint them--he was supposed to be better than that, wasn't he? But no matter how earnest his attempts, young Rhegalem had never seemed to make the cut. True success in his father's eyes was always out of reach, always just a bit too much for him to make, and he never quite understood why.
He first stood on the Sands at 14, already well familiar with the process by now. He'd watched every Hatching he'd been able to make it to, staring on in open wonder as each dragonet burst forth from their shells--he wanted nothing more than to be out there with those Candidates, to Impress a dragon of his own. Maybe he'd be a Bronzerider like his dad--Bronzes were the best, weren't they? Aside from Golds, but Rhegalem knew his place. But before then, he'd endured the Touching with barely-restrained nerves, excitement turning into impatience turning into anxiety at all the what-ifs--he didn't even want to think about what would happen if he didn't Impress, or if he Impressed to a Green of all things. He himself didn't see the problem, but the expectations placed upon him demanded something greater. There was one egg in particular that he'd been keeping an eye on. It was almost impossibly large, standing imposing off to the side as though it was judging him. Surely it held a Bronze, with that kind of presence. Would it be his Bronze? He'd glanced back and forth between the eggs and the Stands often enough to start giving himself a headache, running himself ragged with worry. When that monolithic egg began to shift and strain, however, all of his attention went straight to it, and he couldn't tear his eyes away.
The dragon that emerged was...not at all what he expected. It was a Brown, first and foremost, and a round, pudgy thing to boot, unsteady on his feet and quietly whining about the heat of the sands on his tender skin. Rhegalem looked away, turning his gaze back toward the rest of the eggs--surely this dragon would Impress someone and move on, and he could keep up the waiting game long enough to get himself through the last eight eggs. The dragonet had given a soft, worried rumble as he walked through the Candidates, just as nervous as the rest of them. After a few moments that stretched on and on, he came to stand in front of Rhegalem, plopping himself down at the boy's feet and staring up at him despite all his fears. I know I'm not what you wanted... he began, curling his tail tighter around himself. But if you'll have me, your Yihoth will do just as good for you as any Bronze would. Even better, if I can. Promise. Just...pick me, okay?
How could he deny Yihoth? The idea was absolutely unconscionable. Even with the looming threat of his family's rage on the horizon, Rhegalem still took Yihoth's soft face in his hands, reassuring him that yes, of course he'd pick him. Who else would he choose? No one else was like his Yihoth. He could feel the disapproval already, and was sure he'd never hear the end of it from his family. But Yihoth reassured him that everything would be alright, and with the Brown at his side, R'gal felt like maybe, just maybe, it would be. With their Weyrling duties doing more than enough to maintain a healthy separation between R'gal and his family, the pair began to learn what their new life was like--and most importantly for R'gal, what life was like when he wasn't under his parents' thumbs. He began to come into his own, slowly stepping away from the intensely traditional views he'd been raised with at the first opportunity he was given. Yihoth grew and grew, becoming a titan of a Brown that could easily dwarf plenty of Bronzes; R'gal found some kind of delightful humor in this, and was completely exuberant about every single step of the Brown's progress. They grew into a solid pair of Wingriders, albeit maybe not incredible ones, given R'gal's spotty attention span and Yihoth's quiet anxiety, but they were good at their job, and that's what mattered. R'gal accepted them for what they were rather than what they could have been, eschewing any high expectations in favor of simply living.
And with Thread falling once more, all those pointlessly lofty ideals became even less important to him. The name of the game was survival now, and they were ready for it.
Other: He can hold his breath for a truly horrifying amount of time, and can do a handstand for a similarly long while without passing out. The second trick is not as useful as the first.
Name: Yihoth. Age: 16. Color: Brown. Status: Single Size: 84' Physical Description: Yihoth is an absolutely monumental dragon, built more sturdy than a mountain and with the sheer size to match. Everything about him is large, but with a soft, rounded edge to it, giving him the impression of a strongman-style build. His wings are particularly thick and broad, with a sharp taper to the wingsails that give him somewhat less maneuverability than he'd like. His headknobs are short and close to his skull, and his head is very square and blunt, almost reminiscent of a runner. Yihoth's tail is similarly short and stubby, and he's missing the very tip of it due to a round of Threadfall. He laments this semi-frequently, considering how little tail he had in the first place. His hide is a rich brown, with darker points on his headknobs, the tips of his wings, his tail, down his spine, and at his feet. He's splattered with very light cream, almost white, splotches all over his body, much like a paint runner, and has a rather handsome coloration overall. Personality: Quiet, loving, and considerate, Yihoth is a warm and open dragon who's always there to lend a shoulder to cry on or a listening ear when the situation calls for it. He's a friendly sort, and truly loves talking to others, even if some of what they say is a little too complicated for him to follow completely. While he does his best, he's not the brightest crayon in the box, but that's never stopped him before; all he asks is that people don't run him over with any incredibly in-depth philosophical discussions or calculations, and he'll probably be fine. He's fond of the simpler things in life, and can find joy in just about anything given a little bit of time. He doesn't need all the high-energy, fast-paced entertainment that R'gal craves, but he doesn't mind it. He likes to get carried along by his rider's excitement, which makes it much easier to allow himself the opportunity to experience new things alongside His. All the same, Yihoth tries to stay a grounding influence rather than getting too completely swept up in the thrill of it all, serving as a port in the storm just in case things go poorly--he's optimistic that they won't, but it never hurts to be prepared either way.
Yihoth prides himself on his welcoming, hospitable nature, and is willing to bend over backwards to make people happy. At the end of the day, that's all he really wants--for people to be able to relax without worry, and to be safe, comfortable, and secure in where they are. He's a bit of a doormat, however, and is truly terrible at standing up for himself when he really needs to. His insistence on maintaining the happiness of others makes it hard for him to show his own backbone, and he can be taken advantage of unfortunately easily. He doesn't hold grudges or get angry, reasoning that it's a waste of time--besides, R'gal will do that for him on his behalf. That, and he's often far too busy nursing a bruised heart after such a betrayal to even remotely want to get back at whoever did him harm. He's got a bit of a preoccupation with being enough, which drives the majority of his desire to please everyone else even at cost to himself--he feels as though he needs to prove his worth to everyone but R'gal, and while he's substantially better about hiding this insecurity than His is, it's still fairly clear after only a little while of interacting with him.
Name: I'ar Age: 20. Nameday: 3556.01.04 Sex: Male. Sexual Orientation: Demisexual. Status: ??? Weyr: High Reaches Weyr Rider Rank: Wingrider Previous Rank/Craft: Weyrbrat Physical Description: Short and thin, I'ar seems like the kind of person who'd blow away in a particularly strong breeze. He only stands at 5'3", and it seems as though he could still have more room to grow, provided he took somewhat better care of himself. Really, there's just not much in the way of meat on his bones, and he has a constantly drawn, morose look to him that seems out of place on someone so young. He's pale, enough to be concerning, with black hair kept short and neat, barely brushing the tips of his ears if it's out of sorts. His features are soft and gentle, with an upward tilt to his thin eyebrows that makes it appear as though he's constantly worried--which isn't inaccurate, really. The most notable thing about him is his eyes: his left is a muted brown, and the right an ice blue. He considers it to be a frustratingly distinctive feature, and tends to look down as much as possible in a halfhearted attempt to hide it. Personality: I'ar doesn't seem like he's quite ready for all of this. He's still reeling at the thought of being good enough to be a dragonrider, let alone actually becoming one--as a result, he's far less sure of himself than normal, considering the fact that he's having to reassess himself quite suddenly. Rouleth has done wonders for his confidence, really he has, but I'ar is still a withdrawn, sad sort of person, reluctant to reach out and attempt to make connections for fear of being a disappointment or otherwise lackluster. He has problems with recognizing his own self-worth, not to mention that he's even worth much in the first place, and has a frustrating tendency to compare himself to others specifically to tear down his own progress and achievements. He's an anxious sort, prone to getting caught up in his own head with little concern for the reality of the situation--when he gets an idea of how things are in his head, sometimes, it becomes as good as truth to him, even if he's vastly misinterpreted things.
He's an earnest, emotional kid who's still trying to gain his footing, and he feels far more deeply than he lets on. At his core, I'ar is an astoundingly loving person, but the problem is that he doesn't feel as though he's worth being loved himself; this makes it incredibly difficult for him to open up to anyone, meaning that he keeps on isolating himself without realizing it. He's become so accustomed to holding others at arm's length that it's his default means of dealing with people, and he has to forcibly stop himself and try to act differently in order to make any changes. I'ar earnestly wants to be recognized as an individual in his own right, someone worthy of the attention and care that he's so desperate for, but he's terrified of all the what-ifs that go along with the thought. What if no one thinks he's worth it? What if he doesn't get any of those things? What if, all along, he never really had it in him at all? Rouleth does everything possible to shake him out of these ruts when he starts digging himself into them, but it's a learning process, and I'ar still has a long way to go in that respect. If he's feeling particularly low, his anxiety turns into envy, directed at others who have everything that he wants--how come they're able to have it all so easily? Why couldn't that be him?
I'ar truly hates being caught in that kind of loop, though. All too often, he throws himself into every available distraction he can get his hands on, putting every bit of his attention behind what he does until it's done in order to get his mind on something other than his own failings--or what everyone else has. On the plus side, that makes for an excellent work ethic and a commendable attention to detail, but it comes at the cost of his personal wellbeing. I'ar is prone to running himself ragged if he's not too careful, but having to keep tabs on Rouleth's shenanigans has ensured that he takes at least some of the proper breaks, fortunately enough. He'll get there eventually.
History: Idaar was used to being someone all too often hidden in the shadows. The youngest son of a pair of Brownriders, he always thought he was something of an afterthought, a third kid that hadn't really been intended, but had happened nonetheless. He was handed off to the creche as his siblings had been before him, and never really managed to get much of a connection with his parents; his brothers were far more close by, but then both of them grew old enough to become candidates, and they too were removed from his little corner of the weyr. Idaar had trouble standing out among the other weyrbrats, particularly with his siblings still in recent memory, and his anxiety about being left with no one familiar made him withdraw into himself all the more. He went to watch the Hatching his brothers were standing at, and got front row seats to his siblings both Impressing Bronze, a lovely pair of hatchlings that were clearly going to grow up to be something great.
And all the while, he began to feel less and less like he should be here. He couldn't think of much he brought to the table that his brothers hadn't already, and he found it difficult to make friends among those his age. More often than not, Idaar felt as though he was simply on the sidelines, watching everyone else go about their days with a quiet kind of envy, bottled up and turning his desire to make himself known into venom. As a result, he didn't have many close friends, instead preferring to avoid deeper connections--the idea of anyone getting to know him enough to see the mess of feelings inside of him was one he couldn't stomach.
By the time he'd started to mature, he'd already grown up feeling overshadowed his older brothers, and had long since consigned himself to a life of--well, ultimately, not much, especially not within the context of his family. How could he compare to his brothers, after all? They had been star candidates, star weyrlings, and now were star riders. Idaar, however, was just...Idaar, which is to say a kid who had had little opportunity to show himself to the world. He was used to being skipped over in favor of what he thought of as more appealing options, and quickly developed a rather pessimistic view of life and what he thought his place was in it. He wasn't even sure he was really worthy of being a candidate, but he took his birthright when it was offered, not wanting to rock the boat enough to draw any kind of negative attention. From there, he...just blended in again, already resigning himself to being a footnote, or even worse--completely forgotten. He became so consumed by the pessimistic idea of the world that he'd created that he believed it to be true, and while the efforts of others in the creche did plenty to ensure he was at least sociable, he initially met them with resistance. Still, the creche wasn't about to leave him to isolate himself forever, and with these constant gentle efforts, he slowly began to think that maybe things might be better, at least in that respect. People did care about him, even if he hadn't seen it so much before; without his brothers around, there was no one to compare him to, and Idaar felt better being his own person, even if he still remained more on the withdrawn side.
His first Hatching came and went. Then the second, the third, and fourth, all blurring together into an ever-expanding chain of disappointments that he couldn't help but feel like he'd never shake. While he felt somewhat better now that he knew he had a place in the creche, being passed over by so many dragons took its toll on him--his brothers had Impressed immediately, but here he was, still waiting. He didn't intend to start comparing himself to them all over again, but it was such an easy spiral to lapse back into, an old habit that died far too hard. Before he could even hope to pick himself up out of the pit he was digging for himself all over again, Idaar suddenly had to deal with the worst possible event on top of everything else: Thread had returned. The Hatchings became far more earnest now, far more important--and Idaar felt so much less like he deserved to be there. Surely there was someone else, someone more capable, someone more--just more who could take his spot? Why did it have to be him? What had he done to earn this place on the Sands?
All of his doubts and insecurities had wrapped him up in so much internal conflict. He tried to put on a brave face for that fifth Hatching when it rolled around, but it was just so hard--not to mention the fact that he hardly thought it was convincing. It really wasn't, and he almost walked off the Sands outright to try and smother his own emotions enough to where he might be able to convince his brain to let him calm down for just ten minutes. Was he going to have an anxiety attack? It sure felt like there was one looming on the horizon, complete with the start of a spiral of self-doubt and uncertainty that he knew he shouldn't have dared bring to the Sands--
Rouleth's voice hit his mind like a sack of bricks. Less than two seconds later, Rouleth himself hit him, also like a sack of bricks.
Idaar was fully convinced that he was being mauled when Rouleth tackled him, and simply allowed it to happen. That would be just his luck, wouldn't it? Being taken out like this--and then Rouleth rested his head on Idaar's chest, gently nosing the boy's chin. If His was so content to be on the ground like this, well--his Rouleth would be down here too, so it looked intentional. He was here now, and all those dark thoughts had better go away, because he had so much to do with I'ar! How were they gonna get out there and--and--get him some food because he's starving if His I'ar was so sad that he'd just lay down like that?
With some reassurance and gentle convincing, I'ar sat up, brushing as much of the sand off himself as possible. Little Rouleth was right--they had much to do, and he had to get to it sometime.
Other: sad weyr boy name of i'ar....please help him
Name: Rouleth Age: 1 Color: Brown Size: 64'. Status: ??? Personality: Are you a gambling man, by any chance? Rouleth hopes you are. Cocksure, confident, and at times a bit of a sleaze, Rouleth oozes charm and charisma--at least, he thinks he does. In reality, while he's quite good at putting up a smooth image, he's not quite as convincing as he's told himself he is. He loves high-octane thrills and the rush of adrenaline, and has made something of a name for himself as an almost foolhardy dragon who's all too willing to push the envelope in just about any situation. He wants things bigger, better, and most importantly, faster--Rouleth has no intentions of slowing down for anyone or anything, and his goal is to take himself (and whoever else is bold enough) along for the ride of his life. What's the point in living if you don't truly live? What good is it to sit there and let it all pass you by? That seems like such an unforgivable waste to him, and Rouleth wants nothing to do with that kind of talk. He has a tendency to bowl over others with his desires, particularly if they're not as vocal about what they want as he is, and often has to be blatantly reminded to chill out and remember that other people exist, and will indeed be affected by what he does. Rouleth can be rather selfish, and doesn't usually consider the feelings of others in his plans to achieve high-flying thrills; at the end of the day, he simply loves to roll the dice, and there's very little that can stop him when he gets the itch to press his luck. He's always appropriately apologetic if somebody winds up getting hurt, but unless the people in question are at least somewhat close to him, he finds it hard to truly care about what happens to them. He has so much to do and see, and if he spent all his time worrying or getting to know everybody, he wouldn't have a minute to himself, not to mention to do anything he wants to.
Just as he's bold and brash, he's also perhaps a bit--or rather, a lot--short-tempered. Rouleth reacts often before he's really thought about things, and his tendency to feel so strongly without much consideration for what comes after often comes back to bite him in the a**. He very much lives in the moment, for better or for worse, and doesn't dwell on things for long, instead preferring to keep it moving. He has a seemingly boundless store of energy at all times, and it's often turned toward all manner of shenanigans. Rouleth never seems to slow down, and to actually make him stop takes something truly severe--much as he wants to live fast, life does, in fact, come at you equally fast. Even if he doesn't seem to completely understand that there's a possibility of terrible things happening, especially not as a direct result of his own actions, to his credit, Rouleth does spend some time thinking about the potential worst outcomes, although he's not the type of dragon to dwell on them long. Why should the specter of terrible things stop him, especially when they're not guaranteed to happen? Things could be fine! Who said they wouldn't be? His optimism carries him all sorts of places, and this, combined with the fact that he's convinced himself that the odds are always in his favor means that he won't shy away from any kind of a challenge, no matter how intimidating it may be. He can handle it! He's Rouleth--of course he can!
Physical Attributes: Rouleth is a chubby, stocky dragon, with short limbs and a sturdy build that's well-padded. He hardly seems like the athletic type, but he's far more capable of acrobatic maneuvers and high-flying tricks than his physicality may suggest; he loves being something unexpected, and takes great pride in how he looks, even if he's far from handsome by some people's standards. Why should he listen to them, though? He's none other than the inestimable Rouleth, and he's wonderful. He carries himself with all the swagger and presence of a Weyrleader's Bronze, albeit condensed down into a significantly smaller package. Additional Notes: He finds bugs fascinating, and his favorite sunning sessions are the ones where he gets to settle in and get visited by anything flying around looking for a warm perch. His absolute favorite insects are crawlers, however, and if I'ar let him, he claims he'd find a way to keep some as pets. Or snacks, either way.
Why Me: I'ar was--just sad, really. Rouleth took one look at him for who he truly was and saw someone so very much in need of a drive to live, to go out there and be instead of simply letting it all pass him by; he knew he could do something about it, and he wanted nothing more than to take this kid and show him that not only was there things to really enjoy in this world, he didn't have to do it alone. Rouleth understands I'ar's tendency to isolate himself or otherwise set himself separately from others, but he knows it's really only hurting His in the end, no matter how much I'ar thinks it's the safest way to live. Together, they can be so much more than they'd ever be separately, and they both know that. Their relationship is completely about balance, with both sides coming together to make each other stronger. I'ar's calm, measured way of thinking lends a critical element to Rouleth's...well, everything--thinking. Without someone to help him slow down just a bit, Rouleth is liable to burn himself out, but I'ar needs that burning enthusiasm as well to keep from freezing over. Rouleth draws out the best in I'ar and does whatever he can to ensure His doesn't wind up a sad old hermit living in a dark weyr, while I'ar just wants to make sure Rouleth doesn't die doing a nosedive into the Bowl or something like that.
Name: Ka'ia Age: 23. Nameday: 3552.13.27 Sex: Male. Sexual Orientation: Gay. Status: ??? Craft: Journeyman Beastcraft. Rank: Weyrling. Location: High Reaches Weyr. Physical Description: Ka'ia is one of the more lean members of his family, leaning more to the svelte side despite the life of physical labor he's grown accustomed to--he's built like a runner, which may or may not have something to do with the fact that he does an awful lot of escaping from bad situations. He stands at roughly 6'1" and holds himself with a particularly elegant kind of poise, seemingly relaxed and confident regardless of what's going on around him. His hair is a deep caramel color with bright blond tones from being partially bleached by the sun, and it's loose and wavy, usually kept buzzed around the back and sides with a longer top that barely brushes his eyebrows when suitably swept to the side. His eyes are a deep violet, and his skin is rather nicely tanned, speckled with a few small white scars that were merely the results of occupational hazards. His features are rather aesthetically appealing, with a strong nose, delicately arched eyebrows, long eyelashes, and soft lips--his cheekbones are prominent, and his face overall has somewhat of a sharper heart-shape. To put it bluntly, he's pretty, and he knows it. He's sustained a bit of damage as a result of his dubious lifestyle, however. At the corners of his mouth, a deep scar stretches out from either side to about the middle of his cheeks, effectively ruining his dimples; if it looks like his face was quite literally cut open at some point, that's because it was. While the healers did an excellent job patching him up, the scars are still considerable, and he finds it difficult to open his mouth too widely or to make particularly exaggerated expressions.
Although it's not in excellent shape at this point, his clothing is brightly-colored and revealing, but functional despite its tendencies toward low cuts in all the right places--he makes sure he can, at the very least, move well in what he wears, just in case something goes wrong and he needs to get somewhere fast. He's fond of equally bright sashes tied neatly around his waist, usually made of some form of silky, swishy fabric that he can fiddle with when he gets bored or distracted. Generally, his sleeves are either rolled up or cut off at the elbow in order to make it easier for him to work with his hands, and Ka'ia is very particular about keeping his hands free of any kind of obstructions. His fingers are thin and somewhat bony, and he's missing his left pinky, with a jagged scar curling around to the outside edge of his hand. Even down a digit as he is, he's remarkably quick with his hands, and seems to have little trouble working around the damage.
Personality: Ka'ia is always on the move, trying his best to find the most favorable position to be in so that he can make just the right waves. He's intensely focused on increasing his own standing, and constantly seeks out opportunities to do just that, even if it means stepping on a few toes--as long as they don't belong to anyone of higher rank or with the right connections, that is. He's extremely driven and ambitious, and is, somewhat surprisingly, not averse to putting in the hard work that achieving his goals may require; his own personal sense of pride doesn't let him do anything less, and he refuses to have his 'good' name attached to any kind of shoddy work. Beyond that, good results will surely get him more favor--so why not put the proper amount of effort in? Ka'ia has little issue with doing dirty work, so long as it comes to a favorable end for him. He can quickly become agitated and aggressive if the proposed return is less than expected, delayed, or doesn't happen at all, and is not above trying to exact some kind of petty revenge when he believes he's been slighted. He doesn't pretend that anything in this world comes without a price tag attached, and he's prepared to earn what he can in order to pay it, working tirelessly in order to make absolutely certain that he won't come up short in the end. He doesn't offer many of his own services for free, or at least not genuinely free--he'll always come back later for a favor of some kind, and has trouble accepting (or understanding) true generosity. People are always looking for a return on their investments, and Ka'ia although he's gotten a hell of a lot better about it since Impressing Argamath, he can't help but be on the lookout for those kinds of motivations.
He's a smooth talker with a noted tendency to suck up to authority figures or people with friends in high places; Ka'ia is a flatterer in every sense of the word, and isn't above greasing palms to get where he wants to go if need be. He can be somewhat of a yes-man to those in charge, and can usually be found doing everything he can to ensure he gets appropriately noticed for his efforts. He has little qualms with fighting or demeaning his competition, however, and sees it as a necessary part of climbing the proverbial ladder; if he's going to rise to the top, he has to make it there before anyone else, and Ka'ia is absolutely determined to make sure he gets there. He thinks very highly of himself, and despite his ridiculously stringent standards for his associates, he thinks just as highly of those few he holds in any kind of esteem--why wouldn't he surround himself with the best how he deserves, after all? Ka'ia absolutely spoils his close companions, wanting to ensure that they get the same kind of comfort and security that he's after. If they're good enough to make the cut, they're just as worthy of the finest things as he is, and he's determined to get them that chance. What good is being on top if you're the only one up there, anyway? While he'd like to say he wants someone else up there with him for the express purpose of having a scapegoat if he needs it, he's more afraid of being alone with himself than anything else. Even if he doesn't trust most people, the thought of having nothing and no one to distract himself from his thoughts is terrifying.
Ka'ia fully recognizes that he's done some less than savory things in his time to get to where he is, even if he hasn't gotten all that far. He's still proud of his own progress, considering what he's done to be simply stepping stones on his path to eventual ascension--he's not sure how long it's going to take, but nothing is going to shake him off of his goals. Ka'ia is nothing if not persistent, and once he sets his mind on something, nothing short of permanent negative consequences will make him let it go. He's good at thinking on his feet and is strongly self-sufficient, which makes it easy for him to handle any rough situations that come his way; he knows how to handle himself and how to walk that very careful line between shrewd and conniving, which has helped him far more than it's hurt him. However, his pride makes it hard for him to admit when he's made a mistake, and he'll often make matters significantly worse for himself by trying to cover up his problems before anyone else can notice. He's a loudmouthed brat with something of a superiority complex and far too much self-confidence, but at the end of the day, Ka'ia genuinely just wants to live in comfort without having to worry about money or where his next meal is coming from. Independence is of the utmost importance to him, and while he's alright with the idea of working for or with someone, the thought of being dependent on them is reprehensible. Aside from being truly alone, having to rely on someone is one of his greatest fears, and Ka'ia will do anything in his power to ensure that doesn't happen. He's afraid of the consequences of opening up to someone--what he might have to do if they leave, if they grow to hate him or decide they're better off without him. All the same, he's lonely at his core, not sure how to go about being known for who he is in order to be loved for who he is.
He's a strong-willed individual who doesn't compromise for much when it comes to personal matters, reasoning that if he sets such high standards for himself, he won't be able to be disappointed by those that fail to meet them. If he knew he had no reason to get his hopes up in the first place, it's fine if he gets disappointed. Underneath the surface, Ka'ia finds his isolation, self-imposed or otherwise, a distasteful but necessary part of his life--it allows him to focus more on the people that matter, giving him more time to provide for them where he can. He looks after himself first and foremost, but when it comes to those few he's close to, it's not for strictly selfish reasons--if he can't make sure he's in good enough shape to take care of his loved ones as they deserve, how can he ensure they are given every bit of the best? Once Ka'ia's decided that he has reasons enough to care for a person, he's staunchly protective and prone to bending over backwards for them. He wants to protect those he's grown to love, in part because he desperately wants them to stick around, but also because they're more than worthy of his defense. His end goal is not to bring only himself up to stable, comfortable living--he'd still be alone at the end of the day, then, and what good is that? Those that manage to get close enough to him are some of the few that can influence his decisions, and he listens to them more intently than anyone else; what they think matters to him the most, and he takes very little issue with taking their concerns and opinions to heart. Ka'ia can easily be influenced for good or bad by this inner circle; although he aspires for independence as much as possible, he doesn't see their influence as a kind of dependency, and will hold on to them fiercely over almost everything else.
His family was good to him, enough to ensure that he wouldn't doubt the people he's been around the longest, but growing up in Nabol made it difficult for him to just accept people for what they present on the surface and nothing more. He knows it's not an excellent way to go about life outside of the hold, but it's the best way to prevent himself from getting hurt any more than he already has. It's difficult to get Ka'ia to be completely comfortable with people enough to show them more of who he genuinely is underneath all the layers of smooth talking and careful maneuvering, but if it's successfully managed, he's something of a far cry from what most people would expect. He's a much softer individual than he presents, desperate to find his own place in the a world that's seemed stacked against him from the start, even if some of it was by his own doing. His dream is simple enough--to be able to live without worry with his closest companions similarly enjoying the comfort he's earned. His pride dictates that he work for his own security, and he can't see many other ways to reach his goal than through his own effort; accepting help is much too close to him admitting his own weakness for him to comfortably stomach, but Ka'ia realizes that he can't do everything alone, no matter how much he'd like to try. Ka'ia wants to be safe and secure above all else, and the decisions he makes to keep himself on that path often include shutting out other people whether he likes it or not. He's afraid of finally opening himself up to someone only to be let down, and the thought of building his life around someone else's presence only to have them vanish is horrific--but he knows full well he'd set himself up for just that, even with the potential consequences hanging in clear view. He wants to avoid being truly alone far more than he's afraid of being hurt, and he has little choice but to stomach the fear in order to keep others at his side.
Positive Trait List Adaptable, cunning, sociable, discreet, diligent, persistent, brave. Negative Trait List Smug, vindictive, rude, prideful, petty, selfish, brash.
History: The middle child of a moderately respected family of beastcrafters in Nabol Hold, Kaiator resented the drudgery of his prospective life almost from the start. He wasn't forced into beastcrafting--quite the opposite, in fact, but he saw few other options that were at the very least attainable. His family's work was needed, to be sure, although Kaiator didn't think it was enough for him. It wasn't long before he began turning his free time toward dreaming of something better, picturing a bright future replete with wealth and status. While his family wasn't destitute, they weren't very well off, either, and the ever-looming threat of poverty made eking out a living in Nabol all the more stressful--it wasn't difficult to start putting quite a bit of stock in those idle fantasies, enough to where Kaiator began hunting for a way to change it all for the better. When he became a Journeyman at age 21 and things felt as though they were becoming set in stone, he decided he couldn't just lie down and accept his lot in life. He wanted more out of life, not just for himself, but for his family as well, although he knew full well he couldn't just drag them all down that same path he'd been eying just yet. No, he'd bring them up after him, ensuring that they'd never worry about anything again--before he could do that, though, he had to lift himself out of the dirt and dung his family was buried in.
So he took action.
Before he could get ahead, he had to get his connections in order. When he was done working for the day, Kaiator drifted from his home every night, consorting with 'friends' in dangerous places--he made himself useful, made himself a familiar face, and things went smoothly at first. He learned how to gloss over slights, ingratiate himself to the right people, and say the right thing at the right time in live fire testing, knowing full well that any mistakes could cost him dearly. To his credit, Kaiator proved to be skilled at this careful navigation, and even better at making sure his family knew little of his late-night escapades. He played the game well for someone without much experience at all, but even the best players make mistakes sometimes. Kaiator had taken up a few roles in the night--gambler, sometimes runner, often handler of convenient information--and all of them had their place. He maintained this balance for two turns, delicately tying together both halves of his double life and keeping those closest to him none the wiser for it. With the profits he earned from his dubious work, he was able to make sure his family's stability, sometimes doing even better than that when all his careful positioning paid off, but as the days went by, Kaiator was forced to confront the fact that he'd also managed to put himself smack dab in the middle of a considerable problem.
A few of his gambling 'buddies' had developed some bad blood between them due to one too many games gone conveniently wrong, and his information on both sides was in high enough demand for threats to start flying at him--neither side appreciated his attempts at silence, but were even less thrilled about the fact that he wasn't working exclusively, more or less forced or no. One of his clients caught him first, resulting in Kaiator losing his left pinky and having his face sliced up, citing his loose lips as half the problem; battered and bleeding, he retreated to his home, where he did everything he could to hide the fact that he'd been doing anything even remotely like what he'd genuinely been. Suspicious, but far too preoccupied with his injuries to argue much at the time, his family quickly took him back in, and he waited in abject horror for the other shoe to drop. A month later, it did. Having successfully dealt with their new rivals in the meantime, the thugs Kaiator had been working with decided to pay him a visit to discuss his treachery. Unfortunately for him, they made a point to do this during the day when he was at home, shattering the division he'd kept up for so long--now, his family knew everything, and his once-benefactors had come to collect compensation for the damages he'd caused them by working both sides. They meant to take this in a very literal sense, demanding payments from the family to make up for it; Kaiator tried his best to talk his way out of this as well, but it didn't make enough of a difference to matter in the end. His family had to pay up, and money grew tighter than ever as they struggled to balance the collection payments on top of all their other expenses.
Kaiator, largely ostracized from his own family for his actions, quickly began trying to think of something, anything to fix the mess he'd dragged everyone into. He began committing petty theft, managing to stay unnoticed and avoiding capture through sheer luck--that, and the fact that he rarely stole anything of significant value all at once. He went for whatever he could take to help them get by, from food to necessities and sometimes simply money--everything mattered in the end, and he was desperate to do anything he could to earn back his family's trust. Unfortunately for him, he'd started gaining attention again, and knew he'd have to stop before he got caught. He was nearing the end of his rope, with fewer and fewer options to try and make things better; honest work would only go so far when you were going against dishonest folk, and he didn't fancy his chances with regards to bringing any officials into the matter. What could he do? Nothing had worked out how it was supposed to, and now everything had gone straight to hell.
The appearance of a dragonrider complicated things. Being Searched was the last thing on his mind, but the more he thought about it, the more appealing the idea seemed--if he became a rider himself, he could come back with a dragon and protect his family properly, not to mention the prestige inherent in such a title. Although the threat of Thread wasn't inconsequential, protecting Pern was admittedly fairly far down his list of priorities; but they weren't asking for a long-winded explanation of his motivations. All they needed from him was a 'yes,' and everything would change all over again. Holding on for dear life, he went between, and High Reaches Weyr unfolded beneath him when they slipped out of the darkness.
And then he Impressed, and the world he knew was changed once more. Argamath opened him up in the best ways, helping him become more confident and genuine--he had never imagined that he'd Impress a Bronze, but he was now quite convinced that he'd been chosen by the best and most beautiful dragon in all of Pern. He was Ka'ia now, and with Argamath at his side, he'd be so much more than he'd dreamed of.
Origin of Name: Tribal people in what today is Turkmenistan first used the Akhal-Teke for raiding. The horses were their most treasured possession since they were crucial for income and survival. They selectively bred their horses, keeping records of the pedigrees via an oral tradition. Horses were managed and trained in very specific ways. Stallions were tethered next to the tent while mares and foals were free to seek forage. The stallions were covered from head to tail with up to seven layers of felt, which kept their coat short and shiny. Before raids they were put on a sparse diet to prepare them for the long ride through the desert with no water and hardly any feed. The horses were called Argamaks (divine or Sacred Horses) by the Russians, and were cherished by those who valued their speed and stamina in the desert and loyalty to their owner. Han emperors from China sacrificed armies to obtain just a few of the precious "Argamaks".
Argamath is derived from the Russian name "Argamaks".
Inspiration: Akhal-Teke
The Akhal-Teke is a Turkmen horse breed. They have a reputation for speed and endurance, intelligence, and a distinctive metallic sheen. The shiny coat of the breed led to their nickname, "Golden Horses". These horses are adapted to severe climatic conditions and are thought to be one of the oldest existing horse breeds.
There are several theories regarding the original ancestry of the Akhal-Teke, some dating back thousands of years. It is probable that Akhal Teke is a descendant of an older breed known as the Turkoman horse, and some claim it is the same breed. The tribes of Turkmenistan selectively bred the horses, recording their pedigrees orally and using them for raiding. The breed was used in the losing fight against the Russian Empire, and was subsumed into the Empire along with its country. The Turkoman has influenced many other breeds, including modern warmbloods, and recent research confirms that Turkoman stallions made significant contributions to the development of the Thoroughbred. However, there also exists the possibility that all Akhal-Tekes today have a Thoroughbred sire line.
The breed is tough and resilient, having adapted to the harshness of Turkmenistan lands, where horses must live without much food or water. This has also made the horses good for sport. The breed is known for its endurance, as shown in 1935 when a group of Turkmen riders rode the 2500 miles from Ashgabat to Moscow in 84 days, including a three-day crossing of 235 miles of desert without water. The Akhal-Teke is also known for its form and grace as a show jumper.
In 1881, Turkmenistan became part of the Russian Empire. The tribes fought with the tsar, eventually losing. In the process, however, the Russian general Kuropatkin developed a fondness for horses he had seen while fighting the tribesmen, founded a breeding farm after the war and renamed the horses, "Akhal-Tekes", after the Teke Turkmen tribe that lived around the Akhal oasis (near Geok Tepe).
Personality: Argamath is a beautiful bronze, and this dragon hatched knowing it. Though many bronze dragons have a healthy-dose of self-confidence, Argamath was blessed it in spades and is nothing but a vain beast. He is obsessed with his good looks, and won't make a move that doesn't show off his best-angle. Even from a young age, this bronze will ensure his rider is assisting him in keeping up his appearance; he shall have plenty of baths, will be required to use only the best oil, and both will be done thoroughly. So what if the weyrlingmaster is calling? His oiling shall not be rushed! If someone is talking about beauty, you can bet Argamath will assume they are speaking of him, and Faranth forbid any of his clutchmates claim someone else is better looking! If appearances are everything than Argamath believes he's already won.
Unsurprisingly, his vanity also comes with a heavy dose of haughtiness. It isn't just that he's a good looking dragon, but he believes himself superior in practically every way. Perhaps it's because he's a bronze dragon in High Reaches Weyr, or the proud blood that runs through him, but this dragon can't help but lord over his clutchmates, especially the chromatics. He honestly believes himself just superior to them, even if they share his blood. Browns will be more accepted, though he would never consider them the brains of any outfit; blues are hardly with his notice, and greens and whites--well, let's just say he thinks so little of them they hardly register at all. Faranth forbid Argamath ever actually get any true form of power, for he would be utterly incorrigible.
This bronze will never find it easy making friends. There are few personalities that can tolerate Argamath, and even fewer still that he feels are worth his time. He will be easiest to befriend as a weyrling, but upon graduation, and as he ages, the more set-in-his ways he'll be known to be! Honestly, Argamath runs the risk of isolating himself. Warmth isn't his strong suit, and his vanity and haughty nature tend to keep him apart. There will always be exceptions, but friendliness isn't something he'll ever be known for. Instead of friends, Argamath doesn't mind admirers, and will treat them as a celebrity might his fans. A few smiles here, but otherwise, has little use for them.
Despite his short-comings, Argamath isn't entirely without merit. Let it be known he is a loyal dragon. He will forever be loyal to High Reaches Weyr, and shall always respect the chain of command (even if he might think himself better than some of the browns or fellow bronzes). He knows how to fall in line concerning the natural order, even if his pride must suffer. He will always defer to his rider, and to the small handful of clutchmates and possible future lovers that he lets in, you can bet he will be a constant source of support. While he might turn away others, to those he truly loves, he will give them the moons if they asked it.
This bronze is also a highly intelligent creature. He is quick to learn, and as a weyrling will absorb their lessons like a sponge. If his rider isn't particularly attentive, you can bet Argamath will be, and he'll have no trouble relaying what he's learned to his clutchmates. He might look down his snout at many of them, but he does believe knowledge is meant to be shared. Additionally, he's the sort of bronze who feels he's always right and likely struggles to accept that he's in any way wrong.
Though he might be small and self-absorbed, Argamath is hardy creature He has a resilient spirit, and will not shy away from his duty of fighting Thread. When the going gets tough, that's when Argamath truly shines. When they're low on resources, when the Wing is low with morale, you can bet this bronze keeps his head up and his eyes sharp. He might not be the world's most sympathetic creature, but he has no trouble shouldering more than his lot when the Weyr needs it. When others suffer or struggle, this is when Argamath truly sets himself apart.
It's not just physical resilience, but emotional burdens, too. His rider will always have him as a rock to lift him up when he's not well, or to lean upon when he grows weary. Those who do manage to worm their way into his hearts will find a bronze who is there to help them through the rough times, too, with a quiet and surprising tenderness. He's not always all edges, and when his hearts are at their best, he will be a pillar of support. When everyone else is falling apart, Argamath will keep his head, and help carry his wing through.
Positive Traits: Intelligent, Loyal, Resilient Negative Traits: Vain, Haughty, Isolated
Lump of Coal Egg: A small egg with a slightly leathery feel to the shell.
Physical Attributes: Argamath is a bronze who is not particularly large, but he is quite tall. He has a long, chiseled face with a high brow, and long headknobs. He tends to be thin with delicate bones and a long, graceful tail. This is a bronze who will be quite lean compared to some of his stockier and mores muscled brothers, but rest assured, he is just as strong and equally as capable.
Additional Notes: Argamath will be known for his speed and endurance. Where he isn't nearly as strong as some of his clutchmates, this bronze has stamina in droves. He can and will push himself to his limits, for better and for worse. He'll heave a particularly long flame, though it's spread is rather thin. Though Argamath might be a bit isolated, he isn't impossible to get to know, and he will have a few closer bonds within the clutch, and once he grows. If his rider wishes him to be more sociable, he will be easier to impress upon during his time as a weyrling than as an adult, though even that isn't impossible. When it comes to flights, Argamath will be picky about who he chases. Perhaps he might wish to be caught instead? Only time will tell!
Impression Effect: Kaiator will find himself much more easily-able to open up to others genuinely so. Perhaps it's because he no longer needs to use others for gain, as he has obtained the ultimate prize in Argamath; or perhaps it's simply because Argamath will break down every wall the man has upon Impression--and would never stand for anyone wounding his! Kaiator will find that he can accept the companionship of his fellow weyrlings and wingmates without nearly as much suspicion or mistrust. He'll be a more approachable, confident man, and some of his softer sides will be more easily given light.
Argamath found a kindred spirit in Kaiator, and is certain that Kaiator will feel the same. This bronze demanded someone who knew their worth and was ambitious enough to know they deserved to be taken right to the top. He's certain Kaiator will see him for the glorious beast that he is, and on that same token, ensure that the man is reminded everyday how lucky they are to have one another. Where Kaiator seeks security and comfort, Argamath is just the dragon to ensure he gets it. Why, by being a bronze he's already set their future on a fine path, especially while at High Reaches!
Like rider like dragon, Argamath understands Kaiator's self-isolation. Argamath is a dragon who doesn't need much, but he will always need Kaiator. That said, the man's more naturally sociable nature will help get Argamath out there, and with time, might even rub off on him. He might not be everyone's favorite dragon, but there is hope Kaiator will get the bronze to open up to others, or at least be physically present. Additionally, he's one of the few beings (outside of a Queen or ranking dragon) who can power Argamath down when he's at his worst. For Kaiator, this bronze (usually) relents. His strong-willed nature will be needed to ensure Argamath doesn't do something foolish or get them (or someone else) in serious trouble. This is a bronze who needs boundaries, and there's hope Kaiator will keep him from being a complete beast and may even learn some manners instead. Instead, he might be able to help keep Argamath focused on their goals and even become a better bronze.
Never again will Kaiator need worry about enemies or those he's crossed, for he will find a champion in this bronze, and behind him, the security of High Raeaches Weyr. On the flipside, Argamath will never make friends easy due to his nature, and will all-the-more-cherish Kaiator's companionship. There is no one he loves and respects and adores more than Kaiator--and he will share that love freely. Kaiator alone will see the softer sides of the bronze (and rest assured, despite his outside appearance, this bronze has hearts that cut, and feel the full range of emotions). He is a work-in-progress, and Kaiator is just the complicated man he needs. He will give him the moons if he wishes it--and will always remind Kaiator of their worth.
Even if they have no others, they will always have one another--just as it should be.
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Name: Chiareth
Name: Modrioth
Name: Yihoth.
Name: Rouleth
Name: Argamath