Post by cynath on Apr 1, 2007 13:41:26 GMT -5
Contact Info:
Email: duquetti@hotmail.com
MSN: duquetti@hotmail.com
AIM: URdoggeh
YIM: duquetti
Character Info:
Name: Varak/ V’rak
Age: 37
Gender: male
Rank: Triveni Wingleader/ Telgar Weyrleader
Family:
Father; Blue Wingrider C’vante (deceased at 64); a humorous man in his younger years, C’vante matured quickly in a wing of older riders being one of the youngest among them. However, the humor was not lost until the tragic death of his Blue Horth in a flight accident that surely could have been avoided. C’vante survived physically, but led to madness after the loss, eventually taking his own life as so many did.
Mother; Taniel (70); a master healer at Fort, the aging woman has a kind heart and a level head. She’s strict with both her 4 boys and any other patient that should seek any form of medical attention for many ailments.
Half-Brother; Zolin (45); A journeyman in smithing, the man is a hard guy to find. He always seems to be on the move and in a hurry for some unexplained reason. He has an avid dislike of dragons, and this roots to being envious of his three younger half brothers. Father of three girls… all by different mothers.
Brothers;
H’lthor (40); rider of brown Cynith, he rose to become a Wingsecond in the Pyralis Wing. The rider seems to fit the profile of the Wing well. His temper is short, yet oddly passionate. He’s stubborn as an ox and as he sees it, so it should be.
S’frid (27); Rider of blue Kerroth, this dragonrider is quite content with a slower paced life of a dragon rider. He Impressed at a young age and had no ambition to join the fighting ranks of the Wings. He busies himself with reading and music. He is a quiet and personal individual, unlike his older brothers, and has been closer to V’rak for that reason.
Past mate; Sairi (35), rider of green Jolith. A fiery woman in V'rak's own wing, the two shared companionship for a short while to pass time in time of no threadfall.
Daughter; Jannike (13); a young girl much like her father in every mannerism possible. Stubborn and confident, Jannike wants to become a dragonrider like her parents, however, two individuals so similar bump head a lot, and so far V'rak has forbidden her from going to the candidate barracks.
Appearance: Having been a tall, rather awkward Weyrling, V’rak took much from both of his mother and his father’s genetics pool. He grew into that long, lean body, toned from years of riding and dubious training. He stands a 6’2” of lean, raw muscle with little bulk to spare. His skin is tanned from extended periods of flight in the sun, and marred by a few scars, the most noticeable being a jagged ridge tracing down the left side of his neck to collar bone. However, that scar does not distract from the handsome face, coppery-bronze strands of usually wind-mussed hair framing vibrant blue eyes. He likes to keep clean shaven, but that doesn’t always happen.
His clothing is most often that of his position. His riding clothes. Honestly, what else should a rider wear? His clothing is always neat, a loose cotton short tucked into fitting leather trousers tucked into stiffer leather boots. He doesn’t wear much in the form of fancy jewellery, however, he is rather unique in one aspect. His right lobe is pierced with a claw shaped black bone.
Personality: He's always smiling, even when he is angry; hence, it's very hard to tell when he is really thinking unless you know him very well. Though he appears friendly and open on the outside, he doesn't trust easy. But when he does trust you, he becomes very loyal. He places the people around him into 3 categories: his friends (a very small group), his enemies (people who he needs to get rid of), or people who he couldn't care less about. There are very few people out of his Wing that he cares about, his Wing comes first and foremost, and thus his temper becomes short when someone or something complicates that.
Despite this easy-going façade, V’rak knows to keep business strictly as business (probably got that from mommy-dearest!). He has an air of arrogant confidence that youth lends, and this, in turn, lends to his ability to lead.
As wingleader, mate, and father, he doesn't like women as riders. Female wingriders leave gaps in the Wings if they fall pregnant, and being a rather doting parent despite the circumstances, he has no wish to see his daughter fall into a situation where her life might be jeopardized. Even with the lack of thread fall, which he doesn't believe has halted infinitely, riding is dangerous.
History: For as long as he could remember, Varak was positive he’d become a rider. It was only natural of course, since his two elder brothers had, as had his father. The boy had never had a doubt about what he was to become. He had his dreams, he had his aspirations, and surely they would not fail him.
Then came the day that he was sent to the Candidate Barracks. He spent a year in that place, almost impatiently, until he was old enough to Impress. The boy stood out from the other candidates in more than one way. First of all, he was tall (almost a head taller than the others), and none too graceful, and secondly, even though he was a nervous and excited as the rest, he kept his face calm, only his eyes darting around, and that arrogant gleam giving away what he and the others felt. All held their breath, as the first egg wiggled. It wiggled again, more violently this time, the life inside wanting to be free from its protective world.
A snout broke the shell with a snort, nostrils flaring at first to take in a good dose of the environmental air. A head followed. A bronze. The candidates had all straightened their posture, forced their chins up, but Varak had never been slumped in waiting. Other eggs began to wiggle around that one. That first, which the boy watched as the hatchling rid itself of its shell case.
It didn’t take long for all those aspirations to come into grasp for Varak. He Impressed that little bronze, the two having their own little chemical workings, like two pieces in a shifted jig-saw puzzle. Both were a little rough around the edges, their jagged edges meshing to form that partnership.
After that, time just flowed. Riding a bronze meant V’rak had a certain amount of responsibility to fulfill, everything he had hoped to fulfill. He remained closest to his brother, S’frid, as the two get along famously despite their differences.
In his two turns of Weyrling training, he matured significantly, after leaning of his father's suicide at the loss of his dragon. That day had slammed a hard reality into the boy. Dragonriders weren't invincible. It was a reality to be faced too soon, out of training, a young yet confident rider, he joined the Pyralis Wing under the watchful eye of his oldest brother. However, that of course, created some personality conflicts with the other riders in the Wing. Even though trying to conform to their nature, V'rak was neither aggressive, or explosive. It was after that, he transferred to the more disciplined Triveni Wing. And that became home for him. The old wingleader was a kind aging rider who took to the boy. It didn't take long for V'rak to rise to a wingsecond along side a brown rider, and once that aging wingleader retired it was only natural that V'rak took over. It was a gradual smooth transition for V'rak, responsibilities mounting slowly to that climax of Wingleader. He runs his Wing as the old wingleader did as that was how he was used to it. Minor changes have been made with the lack of threadfall, but in the belief that it will return, he plans bi-daily drills. He had no surprises to uncover, no ill-conceived illusions. Since there has been little room in V’rak’s life for women, save for a single tryst with B'aith. Nor has their been the time for his bronze to chase a gold. However, as the saying goes: Those opportunities passed by, someone else will gladly take. Though with the change of leadership, has come a faint fantasy of being a Weyrleader. A fantasy indeed.
-------
Dragon Info:
Name: Bristith
Age: 19
Color: Bronze
Appearance: Bristith is everything a Bronze should be and everything he was destined to do. His is built thick and solid, made to hold his own and more in a fight. The scaly hide gleams of red and gold and copper, an elegant mix that makes that wonderful bronze color. Proportion-wise, he is less than perfect, but good nonetheless, long sturdy limbs graced with wickedly clawed digits, a gracefully arched neck and a strong back ending in a slightly barbed tail. His wingspan is perfect, neither too large to make him awkward, nor too small to hinder a flight. The sails of the wings are a shimmery shade of copper and bronze, slightly tattered from rough use, but no one’s perfect, right?
The elegant neck and rump are graced with spines with webbing, framing a triangular head with a pointed snout, home to many sharp teeth.
Mmmmm! Pretty picture. See see?
Personality: As many bronzes, Bristith is smug if nothing else. He has that same confidence that seems to ooze from his very scaly pores and an ego to match any. Though the bronze doesn’t go looking for trouble, it often finds him for that very reason. He’s a stubborn beast, and thankfully, his rider can sometimes condone this behavior. Sometimes.
Whatever the manner of his behavior, he does enjoy the witty banter with his rider no matter the situation. Keeps them both on their toes!
History: The first to hatch in his clutch, Bristith had taken his time to find His. He already knew who His was. The boy hadn’t been hard to find. The hatchling had later snickered over the expression that the boy stood out like a “loose festering tooth.” Unlike the others, His had a calm composure, perhaps unconcerned if he didn’t Impress. An unlikely scenario. The bronze had trotted on unsteady legs, its short barbed tail lashing behind it at its clutch siblings. And then it had simply stopped at the boy’s boots, tiny sharp claws gashing into the soft leather before the rainbow eyes looked up slowly.
Yes, this boy was His. The hatchling had let a purr of laughter before clawing up the boy’s leg, climbing until the pointed snout was level with the boy’s.
You are mine, V’rak. Forever and ever you will be Bristith’s.
Well that was quite the introduction, that unique personality shining through.
Clutch: Beynath by Bronze Dorth
Hatching Order: 1st
Wing: Triveni
UPDATES:
Nov 1- Puppy- HYANA-sable rouch collie pup from Amneris' canine, Tipp
Email: duquetti@hotmail.com
MSN: duquetti@hotmail.com
AIM: URdoggeh
YIM: duquetti
Character Info:
Name: Varak/ V’rak
Age: 37
Gender: male
Rank: Triveni Wingleader/ Telgar Weyrleader
Family:
Father; Blue Wingrider C’vante (deceased at 64); a humorous man in his younger years, C’vante matured quickly in a wing of older riders being one of the youngest among them. However, the humor was not lost until the tragic death of his Blue Horth in a flight accident that surely could have been avoided. C’vante survived physically, but led to madness after the loss, eventually taking his own life as so many did.
Mother; Taniel (70); a master healer at Fort, the aging woman has a kind heart and a level head. She’s strict with both her 4 boys and any other patient that should seek any form of medical attention for many ailments.
Half-Brother; Zolin (45); A journeyman in smithing, the man is a hard guy to find. He always seems to be on the move and in a hurry for some unexplained reason. He has an avid dislike of dragons, and this roots to being envious of his three younger half brothers. Father of three girls… all by different mothers.
Brothers;
H’lthor (40); rider of brown Cynith, he rose to become a Wingsecond in the Pyralis Wing. The rider seems to fit the profile of the Wing well. His temper is short, yet oddly passionate. He’s stubborn as an ox and as he sees it, so it should be.
S’frid (27); Rider of blue Kerroth, this dragonrider is quite content with a slower paced life of a dragon rider. He Impressed at a young age and had no ambition to join the fighting ranks of the Wings. He busies himself with reading and music. He is a quiet and personal individual, unlike his older brothers, and has been closer to V’rak for that reason.
Past mate; Sairi (35), rider of green Jolith. A fiery woman in V'rak's own wing, the two shared companionship for a short while to pass time in time of no threadfall.
Daughter; Jannike (13); a young girl much like her father in every mannerism possible. Stubborn and confident, Jannike wants to become a dragonrider like her parents, however, two individuals so similar bump head a lot, and so far V'rak has forbidden her from going to the candidate barracks.
Appearance: Having been a tall, rather awkward Weyrling, V’rak took much from both of his mother and his father’s genetics pool. He grew into that long, lean body, toned from years of riding and dubious training. He stands a 6’2” of lean, raw muscle with little bulk to spare. His skin is tanned from extended periods of flight in the sun, and marred by a few scars, the most noticeable being a jagged ridge tracing down the left side of his neck to collar bone. However, that scar does not distract from the handsome face, coppery-bronze strands of usually wind-mussed hair framing vibrant blue eyes. He likes to keep clean shaven, but that doesn’t always happen.
His clothing is most often that of his position. His riding clothes. Honestly, what else should a rider wear? His clothing is always neat, a loose cotton short tucked into fitting leather trousers tucked into stiffer leather boots. He doesn’t wear much in the form of fancy jewellery, however, he is rather unique in one aspect. His right lobe is pierced with a claw shaped black bone.
Personality: He's always smiling, even when he is angry; hence, it's very hard to tell when he is really thinking unless you know him very well. Though he appears friendly and open on the outside, he doesn't trust easy. But when he does trust you, he becomes very loyal. He places the people around him into 3 categories: his friends (a very small group), his enemies (people who he needs to get rid of), or people who he couldn't care less about. There are very few people out of his Wing that he cares about, his Wing comes first and foremost, and thus his temper becomes short when someone or something complicates that.
Despite this easy-going façade, V’rak knows to keep business strictly as business (probably got that from mommy-dearest!). He has an air of arrogant confidence that youth lends, and this, in turn, lends to his ability to lead.
As wingleader, mate, and father, he doesn't like women as riders. Female wingriders leave gaps in the Wings if they fall pregnant, and being a rather doting parent despite the circumstances, he has no wish to see his daughter fall into a situation where her life might be jeopardized. Even with the lack of thread fall, which he doesn't believe has halted infinitely, riding is dangerous.
History: For as long as he could remember, Varak was positive he’d become a rider. It was only natural of course, since his two elder brothers had, as had his father. The boy had never had a doubt about what he was to become. He had his dreams, he had his aspirations, and surely they would not fail him.
Then came the day that he was sent to the Candidate Barracks. He spent a year in that place, almost impatiently, until he was old enough to Impress. The boy stood out from the other candidates in more than one way. First of all, he was tall (almost a head taller than the others), and none too graceful, and secondly, even though he was a nervous and excited as the rest, he kept his face calm, only his eyes darting around, and that arrogant gleam giving away what he and the others felt. All held their breath, as the first egg wiggled. It wiggled again, more violently this time, the life inside wanting to be free from its protective world.
A snout broke the shell with a snort, nostrils flaring at first to take in a good dose of the environmental air. A head followed. A bronze. The candidates had all straightened their posture, forced their chins up, but Varak had never been slumped in waiting. Other eggs began to wiggle around that one. That first, which the boy watched as the hatchling rid itself of its shell case.
It didn’t take long for all those aspirations to come into grasp for Varak. He Impressed that little bronze, the two having their own little chemical workings, like two pieces in a shifted jig-saw puzzle. Both were a little rough around the edges, their jagged edges meshing to form that partnership.
After that, time just flowed. Riding a bronze meant V’rak had a certain amount of responsibility to fulfill, everything he had hoped to fulfill. He remained closest to his brother, S’frid, as the two get along famously despite their differences.
In his two turns of Weyrling training, he matured significantly, after leaning of his father's suicide at the loss of his dragon. That day had slammed a hard reality into the boy. Dragonriders weren't invincible. It was a reality to be faced too soon, out of training, a young yet confident rider, he joined the Pyralis Wing under the watchful eye of his oldest brother. However, that of course, created some personality conflicts with the other riders in the Wing. Even though trying to conform to their nature, V'rak was neither aggressive, or explosive. It was after that, he transferred to the more disciplined Triveni Wing. And that became home for him. The old wingleader was a kind aging rider who took to the boy. It didn't take long for V'rak to rise to a wingsecond along side a brown rider, and once that aging wingleader retired it was only natural that V'rak took over. It was a gradual smooth transition for V'rak, responsibilities mounting slowly to that climax of Wingleader. He runs his Wing as the old wingleader did as that was how he was used to it. Minor changes have been made with the lack of threadfall, but in the belief that it will return, he plans bi-daily drills. He had no surprises to uncover, no ill-conceived illusions. Since there has been little room in V’rak’s life for women, save for a single tryst with B'aith. Nor has their been the time for his bronze to chase a gold. However, as the saying goes: Those opportunities passed by, someone else will gladly take. Though with the change of leadership, has come a faint fantasy of being a Weyrleader. A fantasy indeed.
-------
Dragon Info:
Name: Bristith
Age: 19
Color: Bronze
Appearance: Bristith is everything a Bronze should be and everything he was destined to do. His is built thick and solid, made to hold his own and more in a fight. The scaly hide gleams of red and gold and copper, an elegant mix that makes that wonderful bronze color. Proportion-wise, he is less than perfect, but good nonetheless, long sturdy limbs graced with wickedly clawed digits, a gracefully arched neck and a strong back ending in a slightly barbed tail. His wingspan is perfect, neither too large to make him awkward, nor too small to hinder a flight. The sails of the wings are a shimmery shade of copper and bronze, slightly tattered from rough use, but no one’s perfect, right?
The elegant neck and rump are graced with spines with webbing, framing a triangular head with a pointed snout, home to many sharp teeth.
Mmmmm! Pretty picture. See see?
Personality: As many bronzes, Bristith is smug if nothing else. He has that same confidence that seems to ooze from his very scaly pores and an ego to match any. Though the bronze doesn’t go looking for trouble, it often finds him for that very reason. He’s a stubborn beast, and thankfully, his rider can sometimes condone this behavior. Sometimes.
Whatever the manner of his behavior, he does enjoy the witty banter with his rider no matter the situation. Keeps them both on their toes!
History: The first to hatch in his clutch, Bristith had taken his time to find His. He already knew who His was. The boy hadn’t been hard to find. The hatchling had later snickered over the expression that the boy stood out like a “loose festering tooth.” Unlike the others, His had a calm composure, perhaps unconcerned if he didn’t Impress. An unlikely scenario. The bronze had trotted on unsteady legs, its short barbed tail lashing behind it at its clutch siblings. And then it had simply stopped at the boy’s boots, tiny sharp claws gashing into the soft leather before the rainbow eyes looked up slowly.
Yes, this boy was His. The hatchling had let a purr of laughter before clawing up the boy’s leg, climbing until the pointed snout was level with the boy’s.
You are mine, V’rak. Forever and ever you will be Bristith’s.
Well that was quite the introduction, that unique personality shining through.
Clutch: Beynath by Bronze Dorth
Hatching Order: 1st
Wing: Triveni
UPDATES:
Nov 1- Puppy- HYANA-sable rouch collie pup from Amneris' canine, Tipp
