Post by Prissy on Jun 10, 2011 20:32:42 GMT -8
NAME Zyrran
AGE 31
GENDER Male
SEXUALITY Homosexual
RANK Dragonless; WeyrlingMaster; Master
CRAFT Dragonhealer
HAIR Dark brown, usually cut short
EYES Blue, slightly small for his face
HEIGHT 6'1"
WEIGHT 190
OVERALL APPEARANCE Compared to his older brother he's not that tall, yet to quite a lot of people he is tall. Stand at 6' 1" he does have somewhat of an impressive stature, which is only complimented by his build. He's slightly wide at the shoulders but that doesn't make that much of a difference. Zyrran is well built, with enough muscle to define him quite well. Muscles that were built up during his time as a rider, and allowed to slip a little after Sharanath's death – but that does not mean he's let himself become unfit. Zyrral still has the stamina of a horse and enough power in his frame to deliver a decent enough punch. Of course, his frame is always hidden by baggy, plain shirts and loose trousers, clothing he claims to wear so he can move around better. In truth he just can't be bothered to make an effort.
Zyrran's face is actually quite wide. Still handsome in a rugged sort of way, but definitely wide. Set off by a nose that looks like it may have been broken once. Oh, and small ears. Looking at his straight on his eyes seem slightly small, set under thick eyebrows, but that might just be because his eyebrows are slightly large. His skin isn't perfect. Weathered and tanned from the great outdoors, you can also see the smallest of wrinkles beginning to come through – signs of a much happier him. His hands are the roughest part of him. Fingers used to work, roughened by leather and farm tools, wind and cold. They're often covered in clay, with bits sticking under his nails. But they're gentle hands, all the same. They now also have scars from the many bites that Spite has inflicted on them over the turns.
He does have a series of small scares, mainly nicks on his hands but a few short lines across varies parts of his body – not from attempts at suicide, just from working on a farm with scythes and living with a small dragon for a while. He also has a few scars on his hands and ears from Spite, these are fairly new additions.
PERSONALITY Zyrran is cut off from the world, though perhaps not completely, just the majority of him. He doesn't always...register, what's being said to him, or what they mean in some instances. His intelligence is still the same as it's always been, he's just not listening any more. Some little part of him is lost, and he's constantly searching his mind for that, it seems. He doesn't pay attention very often, preferring to just get stuck in something and not having to look around him for hours.
Maybe it's why he likes sculptures and drawing so much now. He's not terrific, or at least he doesn't think so, but Turns of having nothing to focus on have meant that his art had taken up the majority of his attention – and anyone get get better at anything with enough practice. He views his drawings as 'recognizable' but his sculptures he thinks are 'satisfactory'. Zyrran's way of thinking puts a whole new idea to the term 'satisfactory'. He can get often get the smallest of details down thanks to eyes that were trained to look for faults in rider straps and spotting things from high in the air. He may not listen to you, but at least he'll be doing something while he's not paying attention.
Not only that but he's quiet. His mode of communication is limited to grunts, 'yes' and 'no' most of the time. Oh, he speaks to some people, but even then it's rare and his vocabulary is pretty damn limited. Quite a lot of people think this is because he's still recovering from the death of his dragon, such a tragic event. In part. Mostly it's because he can't stand people any more. Pity, pity, pity! That's all he ever gets from them and he hates it. He does not need their pity or their worry. He's fine just as he damn well is. It's their fault for not letting him die in the first place. Zyrran no longer has any suicidal tenancies, thank goodness. They all went when he was moved to the Hold.
And yet, for a man that barely talks, he looses his temper very quickly. Zyrran raves inwardly, and usually it just involves destroying whatever he's working on at the time, from sketch to sculpture. Oh, any Weyrling that gets in his way will have to pray that he's still got control of all his bodily functions if he ever meets Zyrran when he's angry. The man does not like the idea of the Weyrlings. They will know nothing. Most of them are most likely Holders who very rarely saw the dragons, and the Weyrbred? He doesn't actually know if any will be Weyrbred. He never liked children, and now is no exception. Children are a nuisance.
Arianar is one of only two people that see a different side to Zyrran most of the world sees the gruff exterior. He has learned to deal with children and the loss of his beloved brown but he doesn't often talk about it. Arianar sees the loving man that he was at one time.
LIKES
DISLIKES
QUIRKS
SECRET
HISTORY He was a middle child. The one who was paid the least attention to, but not the least loved. He got away with an awful lot as a child simply because no one realized he'd done it. He was not Weyrbred, born instead in Bitra Hold – though with the amount of time he spent there he might as well have been. His father was a simple farmer, but his mother was trader born and bred. That side of his family visited often enough that he could go on trips to the Weyr and back, spending weeks away from home with his Aunts and Uncles. He knew the Weyr like he knew Bitra. Intimately. It was why he preferred it to his own home. So much that he tried to hide and stay there when he was twelve Turns old. So much so that when he was given the chance to stand for a clutch he took it almost instantly, only hesitating long enough to let his mother know he wouldn't be back again for a while. His older brother had already Impressed two Turns before, and his younger was looking towards a craft rather then a dragon, so he wouldn't have to worry about making his family proud that way.
He took his chance and went, standing for a clutch at Benden. A few weeks waiting for the eggs to harden was all it took
My Z'ran, is there any chance of getting fed around here? I'm some what hungry, you see, and food does sound awfully good round about now. And it was that moment that he became Z'ran, rider of Brown Sharanath, rider of Benden at fourteen Turns of age. Of course, there was more to it then that, but that was roughly the moment he became one of the least favourite Brownriders in the Weyr. Sharanath had a skill at finding a way to make people feel stupid, or just simply getting on their nerves. He was more mellow then Z'ran, but he wasn't quite as nice. Throughout his entire Weyrlinghood Sharanath went about trying to make everyone in his clutch annoyed with him, and every rider once they were in a wing. It was a skill he just seemed to like using, no matter how much Z'ran didn't like him doing it. The pair graduated despite the Weyrlingmaster's objections, and joined the wings, were they were a little more liked, but not by much.
The wings left him busy and shaken, leaving the pair a little quieter then before at first, but once they got into the swing of thins they were back to their usual selves. He was known as one of the most enthusiastic of riders in the drills, quick to help people when they made a mistake, and just as quick to fill gaps in formations where needed. He almost became Wingsecond until Sharanath insulted the Wingleader's Bronze, upsetting the Wingleader, and getting them into a lot of trouble. This sort of put a dampener on their career once the Weyrleader found out. It's one of Zyrran's more amusing memories. The only other major thing to happen since that is one of his worst.
Sharanath went between, ten Turns old, on the same day Bronze Carth of Weyrleader K'tar went between with his rider. Only Z'ran was left behind. He was chasing a pretty Green, lost in the flight lust and leaving Z'ran on the ground to deal with a lusty boy four Turns younger then he was. Then he vanished. No reason, no message left to his rider. The emotions just stopped dead, leaving him in shock, dead for a few moments. Then he started screaming. Screaming, screaming, screaming. He didn't stop until his two brothers arrived to shake him out of it. Then they were left with a man who wanted to kill himself. By the end of the day he'd escaped them twice, heading straight for the nearest weyr each time, intending to throw himself off the closest ledge (needless to say quite a lot of people were left wondering why he'd randomly walked into their weyr).
He was taken, kicking and screaming by his brothers, back to his own weyr, in the hopes that familiarity would help him recover. It did not. If anything the site of the dragon couch shoved him further into recline, leaving him prone to random fits of rage when he wasn't silent, and sobbing fits the rest of the time. He was not recovering, he was not doing well. For two months he was kept in his own weyr before people realized that it was not helping him in anyway. In the end he was taken to a Hold nearby, away from his family and friends in the Weyr. After that he just went silent. Nothing could drag him out of the walls he'd built up around himself. He didn't understand why people weren't letting him leave. He wanted to follow his Sharanath between, he wanted the emptiness to go away, and no one would let him! He just...Wanted this to stop. Wanted whatever it was that was haunting him to go away and stop forever. No matter what people said, they didn't want a shell hanging around. But he wasn't exactly useless. He could work, tend the fields, help with the cleaning, anything the average drudge could do. He helped here and there even if his mind wasn't into it and he didn't register half of what he was doing.
No one told him about the Weyr being abandoned, or the Major Holds. He spent the rest of the four Turns until Greltilth's rising completely oblivious to what had been going on the Weyrs. If you were to ask him what had happened he'd barely remember what had gone on at the Hold, never mind elsewhere. But he did hear about the Weyr being opened to the public again, he did hear that there'd been some experiments going on, he did hear that they wanted candidate for a clutch. He was too old to stand, far too old, and why would he want to? People told him to stand, 'become whole again'. What did they know? Sharanath had been his life, why would he want a dragon to replace him? No. He sought out the group not for that reason, but to just get away. Get away from all the people that still looked at him like he was half a person, get away from everyone who still looked at him with pity in their eyes; and to find a use for himself Who better to find out what had been done to these dragons then a dragonhealer?
Now over the last two turns he has begun to learn how to live again and it has been good for the former dragonrider. He's still an arse but improved, the dragonriders and thus his place has returned.
NAME Spite
AGE 2 Turns 9 Months
COLOR/GENDER Coral/Female
PERSONALITY Demanding, Vicious, Uncaring
APPEARANCE
NAME Posey
AGE 1 Turn 2 Months
COLOR/GENDERGreen/Female
PERSONALITYQuiet, Kind, Vacant
APPEARANCE
AGE 31
GENDER Male
SEXUALITY Homosexual
RANK Dragonless; WeyrlingMaster; Master
CRAFT Dragonhealer
HAIR Dark brown, usually cut short
EYES Blue, slightly small for his face
HEIGHT 6'1"
WEIGHT 190
OVERALL APPEARANCE Compared to his older brother he's not that tall, yet to quite a lot of people he is tall. Stand at 6' 1" he does have somewhat of an impressive stature, which is only complimented by his build. He's slightly wide at the shoulders but that doesn't make that much of a difference. Zyrran is well built, with enough muscle to define him quite well. Muscles that were built up during his time as a rider, and allowed to slip a little after Sharanath's death – but that does not mean he's let himself become unfit. Zyrral still has the stamina of a horse and enough power in his frame to deliver a decent enough punch. Of course, his frame is always hidden by baggy, plain shirts and loose trousers, clothing he claims to wear so he can move around better. In truth he just can't be bothered to make an effort.
Zyrran's face is actually quite wide. Still handsome in a rugged sort of way, but definitely wide. Set off by a nose that looks like it may have been broken once. Oh, and small ears. Looking at his straight on his eyes seem slightly small, set under thick eyebrows, but that might just be because his eyebrows are slightly large. His skin isn't perfect. Weathered and tanned from the great outdoors, you can also see the smallest of wrinkles beginning to come through – signs of a much happier him. His hands are the roughest part of him. Fingers used to work, roughened by leather and farm tools, wind and cold. They're often covered in clay, with bits sticking under his nails. But they're gentle hands, all the same. They now also have scars from the many bites that Spite has inflicted on them over the turns.
He does have a series of small scares, mainly nicks on his hands but a few short lines across varies parts of his body – not from attempts at suicide, just from working on a farm with scythes and living with a small dragon for a while. He also has a few scars on his hands and ears from Spite, these are fairly new additions.
PERSONALITY Zyrran is cut off from the world, though perhaps not completely, just the majority of him. He doesn't always...register, what's being said to him, or what they mean in some instances. His intelligence is still the same as it's always been, he's just not listening any more. Some little part of him is lost, and he's constantly searching his mind for that, it seems. He doesn't pay attention very often, preferring to just get stuck in something and not having to look around him for hours.
Maybe it's why he likes sculptures and drawing so much now. He's not terrific, or at least he doesn't think so, but Turns of having nothing to focus on have meant that his art had taken up the majority of his attention – and anyone get get better at anything with enough practice. He views his drawings as 'recognizable' but his sculptures he thinks are 'satisfactory'. Zyrran's way of thinking puts a whole new idea to the term 'satisfactory'. He can get often get the smallest of details down thanks to eyes that were trained to look for faults in rider straps and spotting things from high in the air. He may not listen to you, but at least he'll be doing something while he's not paying attention.
Not only that but he's quiet. His mode of communication is limited to grunts, 'yes' and 'no' most of the time. Oh, he speaks to some people, but even then it's rare and his vocabulary is pretty damn limited. Quite a lot of people think this is because he's still recovering from the death of his dragon, such a tragic event. In part. Mostly it's because he can't stand people any more. Pity, pity, pity! That's all he ever gets from them and he hates it. He does not need their pity or their worry. He's fine just as he damn well is. It's their fault for not letting him die in the first place. Zyrran no longer has any suicidal tenancies, thank goodness. They all went when he was moved to the Hold.
And yet, for a man that barely talks, he looses his temper very quickly. Zyrran raves inwardly, and usually it just involves destroying whatever he's working on at the time, from sketch to sculpture. Oh, any Weyrling that gets in his way will have to pray that he's still got control of all his bodily functions if he ever meets Zyrran when he's angry. The man does not like the idea of the Weyrlings. They will know nothing. Most of them are most likely Holders who very rarely saw the dragons, and the Weyrbred? He doesn't actually know if any will be Weyrbred. He never liked children, and now is no exception. Children are a nuisance.
Arianar is one of only two people that see a different side to Zyrran most of the world sees the gruff exterior. He has learned to deal with children and the loss of his beloved brown but he doesn't often talk about it. Arianar sees the loving man that he was at one time.
LIKES
- Not having to think
- Silence
- Early mornings
- Hard work, it's distracting
- Being left alone, but not completely, just...Just when people stop bothering him. When they stop talking to him and asking questions.
DISLIKES
- Fools
- Being the center of attention
- Those who think he needs to be fixed
- His temper
- Conversation
QUIRKS
SECRET
- He's still slightly missing his dragon.
- Build a weyrling sized dragon sculpture...Well, he has to start off somewhere.
- Fears Losing Arianar or Spite
HISTORY He was a middle child. The one who was paid the least attention to, but not the least loved. He got away with an awful lot as a child simply because no one realized he'd done it. He was not Weyrbred, born instead in Bitra Hold – though with the amount of time he spent there he might as well have been. His father was a simple farmer, but his mother was trader born and bred. That side of his family visited often enough that he could go on trips to the Weyr and back, spending weeks away from home with his Aunts and Uncles. He knew the Weyr like he knew Bitra. Intimately. It was why he preferred it to his own home. So much that he tried to hide and stay there when he was twelve Turns old. So much so that when he was given the chance to stand for a clutch he took it almost instantly, only hesitating long enough to let his mother know he wouldn't be back again for a while. His older brother had already Impressed two Turns before, and his younger was looking towards a craft rather then a dragon, so he wouldn't have to worry about making his family proud that way.
He took his chance and went, standing for a clutch at Benden. A few weeks waiting for the eggs to harden was all it took
My Z'ran, is there any chance of getting fed around here? I'm some what hungry, you see, and food does sound awfully good round about now. And it was that moment that he became Z'ran, rider of Brown Sharanath, rider of Benden at fourteen Turns of age. Of course, there was more to it then that, but that was roughly the moment he became one of the least favourite Brownriders in the Weyr. Sharanath had a skill at finding a way to make people feel stupid, or just simply getting on their nerves. He was more mellow then Z'ran, but he wasn't quite as nice. Throughout his entire Weyrlinghood Sharanath went about trying to make everyone in his clutch annoyed with him, and every rider once they were in a wing. It was a skill he just seemed to like using, no matter how much Z'ran didn't like him doing it. The pair graduated despite the Weyrlingmaster's objections, and joined the wings, were they were a little more liked, but not by much.
The wings left him busy and shaken, leaving the pair a little quieter then before at first, but once they got into the swing of thins they were back to their usual selves. He was known as one of the most enthusiastic of riders in the drills, quick to help people when they made a mistake, and just as quick to fill gaps in formations where needed. He almost became Wingsecond until Sharanath insulted the Wingleader's Bronze, upsetting the Wingleader, and getting them into a lot of trouble. This sort of put a dampener on their career once the Weyrleader found out. It's one of Zyrran's more amusing memories. The only other major thing to happen since that is one of his worst.
Sharanath went between, ten Turns old, on the same day Bronze Carth of Weyrleader K'tar went between with his rider. Only Z'ran was left behind. He was chasing a pretty Green, lost in the flight lust and leaving Z'ran on the ground to deal with a lusty boy four Turns younger then he was. Then he vanished. No reason, no message left to his rider. The emotions just stopped dead, leaving him in shock, dead for a few moments. Then he started screaming. Screaming, screaming, screaming. He didn't stop until his two brothers arrived to shake him out of it. Then they were left with a man who wanted to kill himself. By the end of the day he'd escaped them twice, heading straight for the nearest weyr each time, intending to throw himself off the closest ledge (needless to say quite a lot of people were left wondering why he'd randomly walked into their weyr).
He was taken, kicking and screaming by his brothers, back to his own weyr, in the hopes that familiarity would help him recover. It did not. If anything the site of the dragon couch shoved him further into recline, leaving him prone to random fits of rage when he wasn't silent, and sobbing fits the rest of the time. He was not recovering, he was not doing well. For two months he was kept in his own weyr before people realized that it was not helping him in anyway. In the end he was taken to a Hold nearby, away from his family and friends in the Weyr. After that he just went silent. Nothing could drag him out of the walls he'd built up around himself. He didn't understand why people weren't letting him leave. He wanted to follow his Sharanath between, he wanted the emptiness to go away, and no one would let him! He just...Wanted this to stop. Wanted whatever it was that was haunting him to go away and stop forever. No matter what people said, they didn't want a shell hanging around. But he wasn't exactly useless. He could work, tend the fields, help with the cleaning, anything the average drudge could do. He helped here and there even if his mind wasn't into it and he didn't register half of what he was doing.
No one told him about the Weyr being abandoned, or the Major Holds. He spent the rest of the four Turns until Greltilth's rising completely oblivious to what had been going on the Weyrs. If you were to ask him what had happened he'd barely remember what had gone on at the Hold, never mind elsewhere. But he did hear about the Weyr being opened to the public again, he did hear that there'd been some experiments going on, he did hear that they wanted candidate for a clutch. He was too old to stand, far too old, and why would he want to? People told him to stand, 'become whole again'. What did they know? Sharanath had been his life, why would he want a dragon to replace him? No. He sought out the group not for that reason, but to just get away. Get away from all the people that still looked at him like he was half a person, get away from everyone who still looked at him with pity in their eyes; and to find a use for himself Who better to find out what had been done to these dragons then a dragonhealer?
Now over the last two turns he has begun to learn how to live again and it has been good for the former dragonrider. He's still an arse but improved, the dragonriders and thus his place has returned.
NAME Spite
AGE 2 Turns 9 Months
COLOR/GENDER Coral/Female
PERSONALITY Demanding, Vicious, Uncaring
APPEARANCE
NAME Posey
AGE 1 Turn 2 Months
COLOR/GENDERGreen/Female
PERSONALITYQuiet, Kind, Vacant
APPEARANCE