Post by curiositybroughtit on Dec 18, 2012 18:23:21 GMT -5
[Aletan]
Age: 24
Gender: Male
Rank: Wingsecond
Appearance: Aletan's broad shoulders and sturdy build usually make him seem taller, until you're standing right next to him, but at five six, it's an illusion that is easily dispelled. Long hours spent under the sun have tanned and freckled his skin. He has a scar on his right hand courtesy of a fishhook that he never tells the same story about twice. His back is a mess of scars from Threadscore that still causes stiffness and occasional bouts of pain; he won't talk about that injury at all.
He keeps his dark blond hair cropped short after an incident in weyrling training that, according to Aletan, never happened. (A wherry, some wine, a rambunctious group of weyrlings, and quite a lot of glue were involved.) His brown eyes are set in a long face dominated by a long, pointed nose.
His hands are almost always stained with whatever paint he was last working with, and his clothes don't face much better. Aletan, after all, has never set much weight by appearance, preferring to wear simple clothes that his father wouldn't yell at him for getting dirty. In fact, he only keeps one set of good clothes, locked away in some deep recess of his room, that he only pulls out when he's required to dress well.
He is left handed.
Personality: Aletan is a rational person, who prefers to take a step back and think. He rarely acts impulsively, but when he does, he usually spends the next couple of days trying to figure out what he should have done instead. Aletan loves poking and prodding at things, trying to figure the little details that makes the universe tick, and it's usually his curiosity (or Erelith) that gets him to act rashly. He's also stubborn.
His parents and foster parents both taught him to not shirk from responsibility. It was that responsibility that got him into the Hatching Grounds that first time, and it was what got him up into the air and fighting Thread again after his back injury. They also tried to instill him a respect for authority figure, but that had mixed results.
Aletan struggled with parts of his weyrling training, and it was mostly thanks to the dedication of the Weyrlingmaster that he graduated at all. That probably influenced his decision to someday become Weyrlingmaster, so that he can help someone else the way he was helped. He can therefore be usually found in and around the weyrling barracks, lending a helping hand however he can. It's also one of the reasons why he worked so hard to help the wing; he needs the experience so he can, hopefully someday, teach a new generation of dragonriders. The other reasons why he works so hard with his wing is this: Of all the people in Weyr, he probably care the most about his wingmates, and Aletan considers them a part of his rather extended family.
It isn't unusual to find him painting. Places he spends long periods of time in have a bad habit of morphing into makeshift studios. His room is probably the worst of these, scattered with various works in progress, paints of every color, brushes of all shapes and sizes, the odd sponge, and bits of old fabric from storage. Aletan says it's all completely organized, but his sense of proper organization is something along the lines of "as long as I can find it eventually." He prefers landscapes, particularly aerial landscapes as seen from dragonback. His painting has helped him develop an eye for detail that he applies to both the weyrlings and his wing.
History: Aletan was something of a surprise to both his parents, who certainly hadn't been expecting a sixth child. His mother is a Master Herdswoman; her husband is a journeyman weaver with an eye for business. As a young child, Aletan got into everything, from his father's workshop to the neighbor's cot. Aletan didn't take well to his mother's craft: he wasn't particularly fond of animals, and they didn't like him. As for his father's, well, he was banned from the workroom after he accidentally broke one of the looms, trying to figure out how to take it apart. By the time he was ten, and was showed neither further interest nor aptitude in their crafts, his parents made the decision to foster him out.
His foster father was a ship captain, and Aletan soon found he didn't much care for it or fish, but he soon fell in love with the work his oldest foster brother was doing as a navigator. It's probably what he would have done if he hadn't been searched at thirteen. Even so, Aletan hadn't particularly wanted to go, but he felt that if he didn't, he'd be letting down his entire family. He didn't Impress that year, but something about Igen Weyr attracted the young teen. Maybe it was the chance of having a dragon, or the new friends he made during his candidacy, or being able to eat something that wasn't fish. He stayed until, just shy of fifteen, he Impressed Erelith. Erelith was one of the last dragonets to hatch, and probably one of the more difficult ones to manage. Mostly because he would rather spend all day being lazy than doing anything.
The pair breezed through weyrling training, mostly because of Aletan's insistence that they practice, practice, practice. That was, until Aletan hit a snag. No matter how hard he tried, he could not wrap his head around properly visualizing destinations being going between. Two months passed and no amount of thinking or studying helped. Erelith, beginning to get impatient, was about ready to give in and try it anyway (/he/ knew what he doing, after all), when the Weyrlingmaster sat Aletan down with a quill, some ink, and a scrap of parchment and told him to try and sketch out his destination. It was a very crude sketch, but it worked, even if Aletan hated that he had to use a crutch. Eventually, Aletan stopped having to draw it out, and was allowed to continue on with his training.
His time with his first wing was rather uneventful until the first Threadfall that Igen flew. His wingleader, an old rider approaching retirement, was badly scored and forced to return to the Weyr, throwing the whole wing into a panic that caused several other injuries. Aletan and Erelith narrowly missed one clump of Thread by going Between but came out with another clump right on top of them. The pair lived but was grounded for months due to injuries. The weeks following were probably the worst because Aletan couldn't help but think about how he could have died, how Erelith could have died. Confined to bed rest, Aletan eventually took up drawing again to try and keep his mind occupied instead of racing with doubt and worry. He couldn't bear to face his wingmates like that, and so, when returned to light duty, but in a request for a transfer to a different wing.
But that gnawing fear refused to go away, and nothing Erelith could do or say abated it. when the announcement that they were fit to fly in the next Fall came, Aletan didn't know what to do. A part of him wanted to tell his new wingleader he didn't feel ready, but another part, the part that was his parents and Erelith, told him he had to. He slept poorly that night, instead staying up with a set of painted appropriated from storage. It was something to do, and it kept his mind off Thread until that dawn, and…nothing went horribly wrong.
As the turns marched on, Aletan had managed to suppress his fears. He had learned to trust and rely on the members of his wing, and threw them, their dragons, and, because he couldn’t let them down, he did his best to be as dependable and reliable as he could possibly be. By the time he turned twenty-three, Aletan had managed to suppress his fear of Thread and, to his astonishment, secure a place a wingsecond.
But still, he paints.
[Erelith]
{Dragon}
Age: 9
Color: Bronze
Gender: Male
Appearance: Erelith is average sized for a bronze dragon, perhaps a hand or two taller at the shoulder. His long wings and deep barreled chest are good for endurance flying. Erelith prefers it this way; he'd rather avoid complicated aerial maneuvers, if he can. He's even been known to doze off when gliding on a strong current, much to his rider's consternation. when he's sleeping or otherwise resting, he stretches all the way out, to maximize the amount of space he needs. His body is composed of lines and hard edges. His angular head is the perfect shape for slipping into stalls and open windows. He's missing an inch off the end of his tail from an incident with a rather large and vicious wherry.
His hide is dark bronze starting along his back and gradually lightening down his sides and legs. The exception to this is Erelith's wing membranes, which are much, much lighter colored than the rest of him. He's suffered multiple thread scars, some more serious than others.
Personality: Erelith is the sort of dragon who'd prefer to spend all his days lazing about in the sun while being cosseted and pampered by his rider. He's easy going, disliking fights with others and will go with the flow if it involves avoiding an argument. Erelith also thinks everyone should be a dragonrider, if for no other reason than it would be he wouldn't have to chauffeur anyone ever again.
Erelith is extremely confident in his abilities as a fighting dragon: he's big, he has one of the longest and strongest flames in his wing, and, most importantly, he's him. Erelith is courageous, willing to take on any danger, and, despite normally carefree attitude, wants to prove himself to be great dragon. This can, and has, causes him to be reckless, taking risks he shouldn't, and doesn't have to, take. Aletan's good sense usually holds him in check, but Erelith can be almost as stubborn as his rider.
At heart, he's an optimist. He believes that everything will turn out okay because the worst has already happened, and he sometimes finds Aletan's worrying trying. He also believes that people are, ultimately, doing what they believe to be the right the thing, so he listens...unless it involves pie. Because Erelith loves pie. He doesn't understand why people don't just give him his beloved pie. He has no compunctions about simply putting the pie where it belongs (in his stomach).
Age: 24
Gender: Male
Rank: Wingsecond
Appearance: Aletan's broad shoulders and sturdy build usually make him seem taller, until you're standing right next to him, but at five six, it's an illusion that is easily dispelled. Long hours spent under the sun have tanned and freckled his skin. He has a scar on his right hand courtesy of a fishhook that he never tells the same story about twice. His back is a mess of scars from Threadscore that still causes stiffness and occasional bouts of pain; he won't talk about that injury at all.
He keeps his dark blond hair cropped short after an incident in weyrling training that, according to Aletan, never happened. (A wherry, some wine, a rambunctious group of weyrlings, and quite a lot of glue were involved.) His brown eyes are set in a long face dominated by a long, pointed nose.
His hands are almost always stained with whatever paint he was last working with, and his clothes don't face much better. Aletan, after all, has never set much weight by appearance, preferring to wear simple clothes that his father wouldn't yell at him for getting dirty. In fact, he only keeps one set of good clothes, locked away in some deep recess of his room, that he only pulls out when he's required to dress well.
He is left handed.
Personality: Aletan is a rational person, who prefers to take a step back and think. He rarely acts impulsively, but when he does, he usually spends the next couple of days trying to figure out what he should have done instead. Aletan loves poking and prodding at things, trying to figure the little details that makes the universe tick, and it's usually his curiosity (or Erelith) that gets him to act rashly. He's also stubborn.
His parents and foster parents both taught him to not shirk from responsibility. It was that responsibility that got him into the Hatching Grounds that first time, and it was what got him up into the air and fighting Thread again after his back injury. They also tried to instill him a respect for authority figure, but that had mixed results.
Aletan struggled with parts of his weyrling training, and it was mostly thanks to the dedication of the Weyrlingmaster that he graduated at all. That probably influenced his decision to someday become Weyrlingmaster, so that he can help someone else the way he was helped. He can therefore be usually found in and around the weyrling barracks, lending a helping hand however he can. It's also one of the reasons why he worked so hard to help the wing; he needs the experience so he can, hopefully someday, teach a new generation of dragonriders. The other reasons why he works so hard with his wing is this: Of all the people in Weyr, he probably care the most about his wingmates, and Aletan considers them a part of his rather extended family.
It isn't unusual to find him painting. Places he spends long periods of time in have a bad habit of morphing into makeshift studios. His room is probably the worst of these, scattered with various works in progress, paints of every color, brushes of all shapes and sizes, the odd sponge, and bits of old fabric from storage. Aletan says it's all completely organized, but his sense of proper organization is something along the lines of "as long as I can find it eventually." He prefers landscapes, particularly aerial landscapes as seen from dragonback. His painting has helped him develop an eye for detail that he applies to both the weyrlings and his wing.
History: Aletan was something of a surprise to both his parents, who certainly hadn't been expecting a sixth child. His mother is a Master Herdswoman; her husband is a journeyman weaver with an eye for business. As a young child, Aletan got into everything, from his father's workshop to the neighbor's cot. Aletan didn't take well to his mother's craft: he wasn't particularly fond of animals, and they didn't like him. As for his father's, well, he was banned from the workroom after he accidentally broke one of the looms, trying to figure out how to take it apart. By the time he was ten, and was showed neither further interest nor aptitude in their crafts, his parents made the decision to foster him out.
His foster father was a ship captain, and Aletan soon found he didn't much care for it or fish, but he soon fell in love with the work his oldest foster brother was doing as a navigator. It's probably what he would have done if he hadn't been searched at thirteen. Even so, Aletan hadn't particularly wanted to go, but he felt that if he didn't, he'd be letting down his entire family. He didn't Impress that year, but something about Igen Weyr attracted the young teen. Maybe it was the chance of having a dragon, or the new friends he made during his candidacy, or being able to eat something that wasn't fish. He stayed until, just shy of fifteen, he Impressed Erelith. Erelith was one of the last dragonets to hatch, and probably one of the more difficult ones to manage. Mostly because he would rather spend all day being lazy than doing anything.
The pair breezed through weyrling training, mostly because of Aletan's insistence that they practice, practice, practice. That was, until Aletan hit a snag. No matter how hard he tried, he could not wrap his head around properly visualizing destinations being going between. Two months passed and no amount of thinking or studying helped. Erelith, beginning to get impatient, was about ready to give in and try it anyway (/he/ knew what he doing, after all), when the Weyrlingmaster sat Aletan down with a quill, some ink, and a scrap of parchment and told him to try and sketch out his destination. It was a very crude sketch, but it worked, even if Aletan hated that he had to use a crutch. Eventually, Aletan stopped having to draw it out, and was allowed to continue on with his training.
His time with his first wing was rather uneventful until the first Threadfall that Igen flew. His wingleader, an old rider approaching retirement, was badly scored and forced to return to the Weyr, throwing the whole wing into a panic that caused several other injuries. Aletan and Erelith narrowly missed one clump of Thread by going Between but came out with another clump right on top of them. The pair lived but was grounded for months due to injuries. The weeks following were probably the worst because Aletan couldn't help but think about how he could have died, how Erelith could have died. Confined to bed rest, Aletan eventually took up drawing again to try and keep his mind occupied instead of racing with doubt and worry. He couldn't bear to face his wingmates like that, and so, when returned to light duty, but in a request for a transfer to a different wing.
But that gnawing fear refused to go away, and nothing Erelith could do or say abated it. when the announcement that they were fit to fly in the next Fall came, Aletan didn't know what to do. A part of him wanted to tell his new wingleader he didn't feel ready, but another part, the part that was his parents and Erelith, told him he had to. He slept poorly that night, instead staying up with a set of painted appropriated from storage. It was something to do, and it kept his mind off Thread until that dawn, and…nothing went horribly wrong.
As the turns marched on, Aletan had managed to suppress his fears. He had learned to trust and rely on the members of his wing, and threw them, their dragons, and, because he couldn’t let them down, he did his best to be as dependable and reliable as he could possibly be. By the time he turned twenty-three, Aletan had managed to suppress his fear of Thread and, to his astonishment, secure a place a wingsecond.
But still, he paints.
[Erelith]
{Dragon}
Age: 9
Color: Bronze
Gender: Male
Appearance: Erelith is average sized for a bronze dragon, perhaps a hand or two taller at the shoulder. His long wings and deep barreled chest are good for endurance flying. Erelith prefers it this way; he'd rather avoid complicated aerial maneuvers, if he can. He's even been known to doze off when gliding on a strong current, much to his rider's consternation. when he's sleeping or otherwise resting, he stretches all the way out, to maximize the amount of space he needs. His body is composed of lines and hard edges. His angular head is the perfect shape for slipping into stalls and open windows. He's missing an inch off the end of his tail from an incident with a rather large and vicious wherry.
His hide is dark bronze starting along his back and gradually lightening down his sides and legs. The exception to this is Erelith's wing membranes, which are much, much lighter colored than the rest of him. He's suffered multiple thread scars, some more serious than others.
Personality: Erelith is the sort of dragon who'd prefer to spend all his days lazing about in the sun while being cosseted and pampered by his rider. He's easy going, disliking fights with others and will go with the flow if it involves avoiding an argument. Erelith also thinks everyone should be a dragonrider, if for no other reason than it would be he wouldn't have to chauffeur anyone ever again.
Erelith is extremely confident in his abilities as a fighting dragon: he's big, he has one of the longest and strongest flames in his wing, and, most importantly, he's him. Erelith is courageous, willing to take on any danger, and, despite normally carefree attitude, wants to prove himself to be great dragon. This can, and has, causes him to be reckless, taking risks he shouldn't, and doesn't have to, take. Aletan's good sense usually holds him in check, but Erelith can be almost as stubborn as his rider.
At heart, he's an optimist. He believes that everything will turn out okay because the worst has already happened, and he sometimes finds Aletan's worrying trying. He also believes that people are, ultimately, doing what they believe to be the right the thing, so he listens...unless it involves pie. Because Erelith loves pie. He doesn't understand why people don't just give him his beloved pie. He has no compunctions about simply putting the pie where it belongs (in his stomach).
