Hello, friend, and welcome to Solace Weyr, the dead-as-shit Dragonriders of Pern site which was recently liberated from invisible-thread hell. Nobody roleplays here any more, but this place is still pretty great. Feel free to stay a while and admire its quiet beauty.
n a m e → Amani a g e → 25 turns g e n d e r → Female s e x u a l i t y → Bisexual r a n k → Senior Wherwoman, Goldhandler (a month early 8'D) w i n g → Blackest Night Wing s t a t u s → Healthy p l a y b y → Angel Coulby
a p p e a r a n c e →
Dark-skinned with curly brown hair, Amani was born in the heat of summer and looks the part. She has a broad smile and high cheekbones, with deep, brownish-black eyes that seem to house a smoldering inner fire. Though small when it comes to height, she couldn't be accurately called petite; Amani is short, yes, but not at the expense of her curves. She's in good shape from the hard work she's done throughout her life, and this combined with her steely willpower gives the impression that she's more of an oak than a willow.
With a full height of around 5'3", Amani is now and then mistaken for someone to push aside or ignore. This is far from the truth. Physically, she might not be the strongest woman in the world, and most men dwarf her, but Amani has spent her life around canines, herdbeasts, and whers, and she likes to think she could take on a human too. It's only a matter of time before her stubbornness and drive reveals itself to onlookers. The force of the personality in her compact body can often be a bit of a shock.
A girl with the attitude of a commoner, she sees no need for fancy clothes or delicate fabrics, preferring earth tones and sturdy things that she trusts not to fall apart under strain. Compared to a lot of other women in Pern, it's rare to see her in a dress -- after all, she always argues, she learned early on that it's not easy to wrangle herdbeasts wearing a full skirt. In general, she chooses simple outfits that won't restrict her movements or otherwise hinder her while she's working or fighting thread. She's seen and had way too many brushes with danger to risk losing a limb, or her life, because her foot got caught in the hem of her dress.
The years that she spent traveling with her family, and the years that she spent as a candidate and wherling here at Solace, have left their marks on Amani. (She wasn't the most cautious child in Pern, that's for sure.) Most notably, she has a scar across her back and left shoulder blade that is mostly but not entirely covered by her shirts, a souvenir from a wher hatching some years back. It still pains her sometimes, often during storms or other inclement weather, but all in all she's gotten used to the wound.
Oaks, you know, don't bend under the weight of one scar.
[/justify] p e r s o n a l i t y → passionate . strong-willed . just . loyal . outgoing . down-to-earth . grumpy
One of the first things one will notice about Amani is that she throws her entire self into her work. She's extremely dedicated and persistent, and it's difficult to change her mind once she's made it up. The wherwoman does not exactly have the patience of a saint, and one can easily annoy her by displaying incompetence. At the same time, she does have a strong sense of fairness, and she is generally willing to cut slack to people who don't know any better, like candidates fresh from their Hold or children in the creche. But while she understands that they can't help their ignorance, she won't be eager to, say, let them around one of Amanisk's clutches.
Amani, it's easy to see, has no great concept of "fanciness." Born and raised a regular caravan girl, she's never learned how to dress stylishly or elegantly. She doesn't have the poise of a Lord Holder's daughter or the grace of weyrfolk. She's down-to-earth, strong but not haughty, and has a distaste for the nobility that rivals that of any other commoner. Furthermore, she's a definite extrovert, and loves to be around people; it has the added bonus of keeping her in the loop of what's going on throughout Solace Weyr.
Despite her outgoing nature, her day-to-day temperament is a decidedly cynical one. She's prone to snarky comments and half-joking, half-serious negativity. (Amani is not one to sugarcoat the truth; if she thinks your singing sounds like the desperate cries of an injured tunnelcat, she will duly notify you of it.) But don't let the grumpiness fool you, because another important component of the goldhandler's character is her loyalty. She'll grumble and groan about it, and berate you for getting yourself in trouble, but she can't bring herself to leave behind a comrade in danger, even if she's not especially fond of them.
Once they're out of danger, of course, she'll go right back to reminding them how stupid of them it was to get into the situation in the first place.
It stands to reason that the two things that spark Amani's wrath more than any other are injustice and betrayal. She despises cheaters, traitors, and those too lazy to do anything to stop them. Her ordinarily friendly attitude falls to pieces when she's confronted with one of these crimes, and one will find that a truly angry Amani is not something anyone wants to see. Due in part to her great belief in justice, she shows no mercy to people she thinks do not deserve it. When someone really earns the hatred of this passionate woman, he or she will not easily escape it.
[/justify] h i s t o r y →
Amani was born the third child of four, and younger daughter, to Marel and Anniva, caravaners who bred and sold herdbeasts. Always looking to trade and make enough of a profit to keep their large family afloat, they traveled all over the Southern Continent, stopping at Holds, cotholds, and at the campgrounds of other caravan families. Relann, the eldest, developed his father's business sense; Livea was a perfect little lady with a lovely singing voice. Niar, then scarcely more than an infant, was perpetually ill, and would not live for very long.
And then there was Amani. She was a determined, passionate girl, stubborn as a bull and more than a little bossy. Most of the time she spent "exploring" with the family dogs, which led to a lot of discoveries and even more trouble. She endlessly frustrated her mother, who wanted her to be more like her sister -- kind, elegant, easy to handle. None of that was in the cards for Amani. Rather than learning weaving or singing or childcare, she took up a hobby of hanging around her brother and father while they dealt with the herdbeasts. If, every once in a while, she got kicked by a herdbeast, well, that was just par for the course.
Amani and her family visited Hold after Hold, selling, buying, trading. When she was nine turns old, they arrived in a mining area, where one of the men had a wher. The young girl was fascinated where other people may have been repulsed (to her mother's displeasure). There was nothing majestic or even cute about whers, not even to her, but in Amani's mind they were new and different, a stark contrast to the herdbeasts with which she had become so familiar. That was enough to interest her until the caravan moved on again.
As she grew older, reaching her preteen years, Relann was preparing to become a real partner in the family business, and Livea was preparing to be married in the next several turns. This in itself didn't bother Amani, since she had never really gotten along with her sister, and didn't see it as a great tragedy if Livea disappeared into the arena of married life. It did, however, pose a problem, and that problem was that Amani would be next.
To her independent twelve-turn-old mind, the idea of getting married was very distasteful. She was barely beginning to see other people as potential mates, and she certainly was not looking forward to tagging along with some trader husband and having children for the rest of her life. She couldn't explain it, but Amani just wanted something more.
When she was thirteen turns, the family stopped at Solace Weyr.
It was the first time she'd seen dragons, really, and they were very interesting, of course. But Amani found herself drawn to the whers, like the one she had seen as a younger child. The wild greens, mischievous blues, patient browns, and the regal, arrogant bronzes and golds... all of them intrigued her. The wherhandlers she passed in the evenings were a promise of another life, one without the constraints she hated, one freer and more exciting than the one she would lead in the caravans.
When her family left the Weyr, moving on to the nearby Cliff Hold, Amani stayed behind. It was a decision she never regretted.
Naturally, the girl became a wher candidate. Over the next two and a half turns, she attended several hatchings and learned how to properly care for whers. She didn't Impress at any of the hatchings, but that was fine; she could stand for wher hatchings into her thirties. (Dragons were too picky for Amani's liking.) When Amani was fifteen, the Wherwoman's gold laid an enormous clutch of twelve eggs, and the wherhandler community was soon abuzz with excitement.
Several weeks later, they were on the Sands, watching as ten of the twelve eggs began, one by one, to shake. And one by one, the queen and her handler handed them off to candidates. There were a few minor injuries, as typical of wher hatchings, but nothing particularly unusual. A beautiful little green hatched for another girl, and Amani could only watch in envy as the other candidates found their bondeds. And then the last egg, an orange one with cream-colored swirls, burst open of its own volition. The hatchling inside emerged and stalked toward the candidates, pushing people out of the way and finally stopping in front of a fifteen-turn-old girl with curly black hair falling into her eyes.
Mama take too long, the gold said. Amanisk tired of waiting. Stupid green not good for Amanisk's, Amanisk much better. She sniffed at Amani for a moment before chomping down on her arm, and looked rather pleased with her choice of handler. Go now, yes? Nothing left to see. And so they went.
Wherling lessons were interesting, to say the least -- Amanisk had a strong will and a very stubborn mind of her own, and was not always thrilled to be taking directions. (She also tended to assume that she already knew how to do all of the things she was being taught.) In spite of these occasional bumps in the road, Amani managed to get through her time as a wherling. At the age of seventeen turns or so, she became the Junior Wherwoman of Solace.
(wherwoman shiz here, to be done when i get back)
[/justify] f a m i l y → Marel; NPC, father, Anniva; NPC, mother Relann; NPC, brother, 30 Livea; NPC, sister, 27 Niar; brother, deceased
n a m e → Amanisk a g e → 10 turns g e n d e r → Female r a n k → Gold c o d e → FCF86E, FFAA00, FFBCC0 s t a t u s → Fighting fit
a p p e a r a n c e →
Let's get right to it: Amanisk is beautiful, especially for a wher. The primary color of her hide is a buttery daffodil yellow, more like the first blossoms of spring than true gold. This easy on the eyes base is then painted with intricate, scrolling swirls of rose pink and golden orange, whirling over every inch from her head to her tail to her two-toed feet. Around each of her eyes is a circle of dots, which can make her look vaguely like she's been in a fight. The markings are unusually detailed for a wher, but that seems fitting for a queen of the Weyr. While there will, of course, still be some who are put off by her wizened wher features, Amanisk is one of the more lovely of her kind.
Somewhat contrasting with her delicately pretty coloring, Amanisk is no dainty flower. She's big and broad, with wide hips and a curvaceous build, all the classic signs of an egg-bearer. If the floral pattern of her hide evokes a nonthreatening impression, think again. Just looking at her size (that being one of the largest whers of Solace) should be enough to convince doubters that she's capable of doing serious damage if the need were to arise. Unlike some, Amanisk is far from a gentle giant.
[/justify]
p e r s o n a l i t y → proud . hot-tempered . protective . intuitive . commanding
As a gold, Amanisk is essentially queen of the whers of Solace, and she knows it. Haughty and superior, she has a knack for giving orders and a soft spot for anyone who flatters her. She doesn't take kindly to any disrespect, though, which makes it all the more important that candidates Standing for her clutches don't make any wrong moves. Formidable in size and build and quite vicious even for a wher of her rank, she wouldn't hesitate to attack if she thought even for a moment that there was a real threat to her eggs or her handler.
She has a special knack for reading humans and other whers (and even dragons, to a much lesser degree). It's not uncommon for Amanisk to dislike someone with whom Amani sees no obvious problem, but it should be said that Amanisk's reasons for disliking someone aren't always reliable, and could be anything from suspecting they're a spy to being offended because they looked at her for too long. Furthermore, she won't always explain her logic, forcing Amani to make judgments on the accuracy of her wher's judgments.
But hey, queens don't need to explain themselves.
[/justify]
m i n d v o i c e →
Amanisk may be a pretty wher, but she has a dangerous mindvoice. Soft, slithery, and hissing, like twisting vines, it has a very serpentine quality that many find a little sinister, especially given her only partial mastery of human grammar. (Among whers, Amanisk is considered quite eloquent, but that isn't saying too much.) Generally, there will always be some kind of sibilant noise in her speech, whether it's trailed at the end, in the middle of a word, or tacked onto the beginning of the sentence. A curious habit, and one that might be more expected in a dragon than in a wher, but nevertheless one that is an integral part of her manner of expression. When she is irritated, her speech crescendos and booms, but when she's truly enraged, Amanisk's voice becomes quiet, ominous. And then she strikes.
e g g → The Rose Trellis Egg p a r e n t a g e → Unknown NPC Gold x Unknown NPC Bronze
u s e r n a m e → Izzums! c h a r a c t e r → First <3
n a m e → A'rys (formerly Aderys) a g e → 21 g e n d e r → Male s e x u a l i t y → Homosexual r a n k → Weyrlingmaster w i n g → ...TBA s t a t u s → Healthy p l a y b y → ADRIEN BRODY.
a p p e a r a n c e →
A'rys is probably not the definition of "conventionally handsome," with his sharp features and lanky frame. His long, prominent nose is slightly crooked, having been broken once in his childhood and a second time years later, and his narrow face is framed by wisps of the dark hair common among the Pernese. His eyes, however, are an interesting hazel-green color that proves to be rather attractive. His smile, also, is a tad lopsided, yet surprisingly sweet and endearing. He's a good height, around six feet, but his height and weight are not exactly proportionate. He has the body frame of a crane, that is, tall and reedy. A'rys isn't weak, per se; he has a certain degree of lean muscle on him, but he is by no means the burliest man at Solace Weyr.
In terms of dress, A'rys is very methodical and practical. He has no patience for extra frills or fancy patterns, he only wants to get the job done. As such, he sticks to basic colors and very stark designs, avoiding things he dubs "too fancy," even if those prettier things might look more flattering on him. He's not what you'd call fashion-conscious at all, and tends to look plainer and shabbier than other people, since he doesn't replace his clothes until they've seen their absolute last days.
For such a pragmatist, though, he's oddly good at affecting the "sad-eyed puppy" expression.
[/justify]
p e r s o n a l i t y →
Given his pragmatic appearance, one might not believe at first that A'rys is, in fact, quite the idealist. He hopes that there might one day be some form of peace, even tentative, between Solace and the other weyrs of Pern, even if, practically speaking, he knows it's unlikely. He likes to believe that everything will run smoothly and that people won't get hurt. Of course, given that he lives in a weyr founded on terrorism, all of this is easier said than done. Over the course of his life, he's started to suppress his hopefulness and focus on the practical trappings of every situation. By this point, at the age of twenty one turns, he's started to become more cynical, but there's still a little glimmer of idealism inside him.
A'rys has been known to say things that many could find a bit... off. He thinks that joking about dangerous things will make them less intimidating, and this has led to his developing a very blunt, dark humor. He doesn't intend to make things worse, but how else are you supposed to take a comment like "don't do that or you'll get lost and eaten by wild whers"?
When it comes to himself, he's very critical. Always a perfectionist, he fears failure in all its forms. (Apparently, no one ever told A'rys that everyone makes mistakes.) He worries that he'll be a terrible weyrlingmaster, or that he'll do something stupid in a threadfall and get Braith and himself -- maybe even others -- killed. And that's another thing about A'rys. He has a protective streak a mile wide, just waiting for someone to endager anyone or anything he cares for. If there's one thing his future students can count on, it's that, in spite of his eccentricities, he'll be damned if he lets any harm come to them.
[/justify]
h i s t o r y →
Once upon a time, there was a greenrider named Lerysa, who was a wild, outgoing woman with no intention of ever settling down. She'd had one son, a boy named Ryssan, through a flight, and -- like most women -- continued her duties as a dragonrider while her son was raised by the crechemothers. And for a while, it seemed like Lerysa's life was going according to plan, until, one threadfall, she and her dragon were briefly distracted. The result of this moment of inattention was a nasty thread score down Lerysa's back and side.
Though her dragon betweened, killing the thread, the wound was already severe, and she was forced to spend some time in the infirmary, recovering. That was where she met Cadmael.
He was a journeyman healer, and over the time Lerysa was in the infirmary, the two of them developed a mutual fondness for each other. This fondness eventually blossomed into love, and led to the birth of a little boy they named Aderys -- but there were complications during his birth, and Lerysa passed away a few days later. So like his half-brother, Aderys grew up in the creche area, though Ryssan had a degree of resentment toward his little sibling. Cadmael visited when the infirmary wasn't too busy, but largely, Aderys was raised by the crechemothers with the other children of the Weyr. A helpful, reliable boy, he could often be found picking up the damage left in the wake of a certain younger boy named Eloghanan.
At the age of twelve, Aderys became a candidate, his mind swimming with possibilities. What kind of dragon would be his bonded? A green, maybe, like he'd heard his mother had; or perhaps a blue, or a brown. The golds and silvers wouldn't want him, and he had only seen a few coppers in all of the Weyr. (After a few brief infatuations with several of his decidedly male fellow candidates, he figured that he wouldn't be Impressing any bronzes or irons.)
Aderys spent the next seven turns attending one hatching after another. None of the hatchlings chose him.
He saw many younger children begin their candidacy and Impress before him; before long, he found himself approaching the upper age limit of dragon candidacy. Still something of an optimist, he switched gears and just hoped to Impress a wher instead of a dragon. Nevertheless, now nineteen turns old, he attended the hatching of Weyrqueen Grenth's clutch, knowing it would probably be the last dragon hatching he was allowed to Stand for.
The hatching began familiarly. A few greens hatched, a blue, a brown. None of them took much notice of him. Then, around the midway point of the hatching, an orange-speckled brown egg near Grenth's tail began to crack open. The shell fell away to reveal a small scarlet hatchling with big blue eyes and sunny yellow markings, who shook herself and began to look amicably over the candidates.
Hmm... no, not here... chin up, your chance will come around... ah! Excuse me, dears. There you are, A'rys. I hope you weren't trying to hide from your Braith.
A gold and a female copper hatched that day as well, but while everyone else was watching the two queens, the newly-named A'rys was more entranced with his red. He and Braith became weyrlings, attending lessons for the next turn and a half. When the time came to graduate, though, and his classmates were preparing for a life fighting thread and defending the Weyr, A'rys took a somewhat different route; he decided that he wanted to be a weyrlingmaster.
So, when his class graduated, he began learning how to teach future generations of weyrlings how to train their dragons. Everything went well for some months, and then disaster struck -- the head weyrlingmaster died, leaving everyone with a lot of confusion over who would be left in charge of the weyrlings of Grenth's upcoming clutch. A'rys, who was not at all intending to be teaching a class so soon, found himself obligated to educate the Weyrqueen's children and their riders. Being a reliable young man, he accepted, but he's not so confident that he can be a good teacher.
Only time will tell.
[/justify]
f a m i l y → Cadmael ; father, healer Ryssan ; elder half-brother, possibly dragonrider/wherhandler
---
n a m e → Braith a g e → 2 turns g e n d e r → Female r a n k → Red c o d e → FF3000, B9001E, FFA163 s t a t u s → Fighting fit
a p p e a r a n c e →
Unlike some reds, who are more light pink or wine-red, Braith is bright red like a sunset. Her scarlet hide is spattered with undertones of orange, even edging into a yellow shade at times (though she would never be mistaken for a queen). She's a medium to large red, around thirty one feet, with wide bright gold stripes on her toes and up her face, between the kind blue eyes. The fiery colors that make up her body contrast with her gentle personality. Slender like most other dragons of her color, Braith has a whippy and agile form, but her stamina, like many lower-rankers', is below average. She's able to last an entire threadfall, but just barely, and she's certainly not built like a metallic dragon, or even a brown.
However, she makes up for her lack of stamina with agility -- she's not as slim as a black or a green, but her ability to maneuver in the air is quite something to behold. Braith, despite her mild temperament, does share a certain trait with her higher-ranked sisters Rekhath and Lyanoth, and that trait is "showing off." She likes to have everyone's eyes on her, and she'll make sure to prove that watching her is worth their while.
[/justify] p e r s o n a l i t y →
Braith is the poster child for red dragons, sweet and maternal to the point of being overbearing. She likes humans, she likes other dragons, she likes pets, and she even likes whers. All creatures are interesting to her, and liable to fall prey to her mothering. However, Braith's strong protective instincts are nothing to laugh at -- if you pose a danger to A'rys or anyone else she's taken under her wing, she will not hesitate to maim you.
To anyone who hasn't given her reason to hate them, Braith is friendly and encouraging. She's witty and sometimes a bit of a prankster, but she doesn't mean any harm by it, she's just a very goal-oriented dragon. And if she's decided that, say, two people she knows should meet each other, she'll "guide" them there on her own. That said, she likes to give advice to new weyrling pairs, or reassure candidates; Braith is very excited that A'rys has agreed to becoming a weyrling master.
Braith is not a believer in the "let them work it out themselves" style of mediating; if there's a fight going on in front of her, she'll be sure to intervene and try to break it up. Even though she's one of the most (if not the most) maternal of her female clutchmates, Braith, being a red, is infertile. She realizes that she'll never have children of her own, and so she intends to compensates for this by "raising" weyrlings. If you ever need a dragon who has your back, Braith is your girl.
m i n d v o i c e →
Broad and sweeping like the sky, Braith's voice is expansive, warm, inviting. It has a feline quality about it, playful and purring, the kind of voice that's always happy to see you -- except, of course, when it's not, and then it's icy like an autumn wind. The endlessness of the sky is also in her voice, making it reverberate in the listener's head to the point where it can be painful or dizzying to hear for too long, especially if one has no prior exposure to her voice. Most of the time, Braith can keep this somewhat under control, but sometimes when she's excited or just lazy, the full, booming sound comes through.
[/justify] e g g → The Autumn Leaves Egg p a r e n t a g e → Grenth x Enpiceth
--- CHARACTER THOUGHTS YAY
Eleri -- candidate for wherwoman; if not, wherhandler A'rys -- weyrlingmaster, redrider R'ian -- ironrider Sharra -- creche worker, possible future candidate
A'rys has to be gay because of Braith. Eleri is pansexual. I think R'ian and Sharra are just straight. xD
Personality wise: Eleri is passionate, strong-willed, and hot-tempered, as well as very loyal. A'rys is idealistic and overly responsible, with a mile-wide protective streak. R'ian is a joker with low self-esteem, and Sharra is sweet, friendly, and down-to-earth.
u s e r n a m e → Izzie c h a r a c t e r → Second
n a m e → Rinnian (R'ian) a g e → 16 g e n d e r → Male s e x u a l i t y → Heterosexual r a n k → Candidate w i n g → Groundcrew s t a t u s → Healthy p l a y b y → Stan Jouk
a p p e a r a n c e →
A good-looking youth, Rinnian is a fair-skinned boy with a wicked grin. Fully grown a little early, he looks somewhat older than he actually is. Although he's about average height for a man, 5'8" or 5'9", he has a decently broad build that makes him look larger. He's not much more muscular than the average teenage boy, and not even particularly intimidating, but it would be ill-advised to pick a fight with him, especially given that he has spent years learning how to forge metal.
His unusually blonde hair is slightly wavy, framing a square-jawed face with a straight nose and lips full for a teenage boy. With blue eyes and a self-assured stare, he suits the part of a Lord Holder like his father. The majority of his actual features were inherited from his mother, though his coloring is far paler than hers, but Rinnian's demeanor is more like his father's than he likes to believe. His style of dress, even, has been influenced by the man; he has a penchant for the ostentatious, and is enthralled by rich colors and fine fabrics. Most of the time, he doesn't have the money or the opportunity to buy such things, but if he does, he'll soon be sporting a whole new wardrobe.
The most notable thing about Rinnian, however, is the casual, nonchalant way he carries himself. No matter what's going on, it's almost certain that he'll look unfazed. This is just one of many reasons why he tends to come off as... well...
[/justify]
p e r s o n a l i t y →
Rinnian is many things, but perhaps the word that would best describe him is "infuriating." He is a cocky, insolent, passive-aggressive boy with a talent for pushing people's buttons, but you love him and he knows it. And if you don't love him, well, he really doesn't care. He has had a lot of experience with people who don't like him, and perhaps he's trying to make up for that now. An incorrigible joker and a fearless adventurer, one might think that nothing could ever dissuade Rinnian from his goals. He naturally takes the lead when others dither about, not knowing what to do, and he takes no crap from anyone. No, Rinnian is a self-confident, socially outgoing youth, endearing despite his penchant for pranks and his skill at being highly annoying.
Well, maybe.
Under his layers of cavalier attitude, Rinnian is extremely insecure. His jokes and recklessness mask his firm belief that he is somehow "unworthy." Of what, he isn't sure, but that feeling of unimportance still permeates his existence. All of the things he does are, when you get down to it, done in an attempt to prove to himself and others that he is, in fact, a worthwhile human being. As of yet, he hasn't succeeded in convincing himself. Thus he'll continue to overcompensate and habitually needle the people around him, waiting for something to show him that he doesn't need to prove anything.
(That won't be easy, though, so girls? You should save any bleeding heart attempts to "change him" for some other guy.)
[/justify]
h i s t o r y →
Rinnian was born the third (and illegitimate) son of Valley Hold's Lord Ventrian. His mother, Risa, was a maid in Ventrian's household, who had been having an affair with the man for some time. Unfortunately for little Rinnian, he looked like his father. His honey-blonde hair and blue eyes were unlike his brunette mother's. It was obvious to any casual observer that the Lord Holder was the most likely father in the entire house, and Ventrian's wife, Lady Aquila, was more than a casual observer.
Ventrian and Aquila had two sons named Ventril and Alenten, three and two turns older than Rinnian respectively. Neither of them liked the maid's son who cleaned up around the house, and Rinnian was not exactly fond of them either. The three had a very adversarial relationship that was only matched in intensity by the coldness with which Lady Aquila treated both Risa and Rinnian. So it was shocking to everyone when Rinnian struck up a genuine friendship with Ventrian and Aquila's third child and first daughter, a little girl with chestnut brown hair. Auria.
Auria was born four turns after Rinnian, and the spitting image of her mother. But she was sweet and friendly, with a cheerful disposition and a love of adventure. She was too loving not to like Rinnian, and as Aquila was too proud to explain to her the boy's origin, Auria assumed that her family simply disliked him due to class differences. Therefore she saw no reason not to befriend him, and as time went on, she began to see him as more of a brother to her than Ventril and Alenten, who had no patience for her "silly games." Rinnian, for his part, loved the girl like, well, like a sister.
In the winter when Rinnian was nine turns old, his mother passed away from disease, confessing his parentage to him on her deathbed. He was thus left to fend for himself in the Lord Holder's household, which forced him to suppress his grief and concentrate on keeping himself safe. (Ventril and Alenten had never been averse to physical violence.) It was becoming clear as they aged that Ventril was the brawn of the family, and Alenten good with numbers, but Rinnian understood human nature better than either of them, and Lord Ventrian realized this.
So, however, did Lady Aquila, and naturally she was determined to protect her sons' political interests. When Rinnian was ten turns, Aquila had him apprenticed to the hold's smith, in the process separating him from Auria. Rinnian developed an even more intense anger towards both the Lord and Lady and their sons in the wake of this event, having lost his mother and now the only person in the house who really cared for him. Nevertheless, he was still a little boy, and he couldn't survive on his own, so he had no choice but to do their bidding.
Over the next five turns, he learned the blacksmith trade, but not long after Rinnian's fifeenth birthday, search dragons from a Weyr called Solace arrived at the hold. They were looking for candidates to stand for the clutch that had recently been laid, and one of them chose Rinnian. After some thought and a discussion with his masters at the smithy, he agreed to go back to Solace with them. It's been one turn since then, and he's gotten into the swing of candidacy at the weyr. And now that Grenth has laid another clutch, Rinnian, currrently almost seventeen turns, is hoping to move onto weyrlinghood.
f a m i l y → Ventril, half-brother, 19 turns (NPC) Alenten, half-brother, 18 turns (NPC) Auria, half-sister, 12 turns
n a m e → Catria a g e → 16 g e n d e r → Female s e x u a l i t y → Undecided r a n k → Apprentice Healer w i n g → N/A s t a t u s → Healthy p l a y b y → Adelaide Kane
a p p e a r a n c e → Somewhere between 5'5" and 5'6", with a slim physique and long, straight dark hair, Catria isn't the world's greatest beauty, but she's easy enough on the eyes. Her light brown eyes are bright and her smile friendly, and the little smattering of freckles over her nose and cheeks adds a certain charm to her face. With visible but modest curves, and slightly awkward, clumsy limbs, she has the bearing of the typical teenage girl -- still coming into her own, not nearly as sensual as she'd like to believe herself to be. There are numerous women at the Weyr far more attractive than she is, but she's cute, and she has years left to grow into herself.
Though Catria was born and raised in Solace Weyr, where women wearing traditionally masculine clothing is not a rare thing to see, she prefers dresses and skirts over pants. After all, it's not like her work makes skirts impractical, and she likes the way they swish through the air when she moves.
p e r s o n a l i t y → deadpan . light-hearted . flirtatious . caring . perceptive . meddling . matchmaker . loves all the things
-- She has a good eye for detail (as shown by the fact that she fails badly at figuring out what herb to give someone for their aches and pains, but is brilliant at stitching up wounds),
