Post by yoko on Aug 29, 2011 16:34:49 GMT -5
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Username: Yoko
Character #: 1
Name: Jason (J’son)
Age: 26
Gender: Male
Sexuality: Bisexual
Appearance: J’son stands at about 5 foot 7, not at all a giant but not quite a short-stuff either. Those 5 feet and seven inches are well muscled. but he looks rather thin without tight clothing. His upper body dominates this thin frame, so in comparison his waist seems rather narrow and his legs look thinner than they are. Because of his somewhat awkward form, he tends to dress in rather loose fitting clothing that cloaks upper-body strength rather than revealing. He also shows a strong preference for soft material clothing. Even though his skin is quite healthy, he does dislike clothes that scratch or feel remotely uncomfortable.
He has a rather narrow face with a pointed chin. His rosebud lips are stretched ever so slightly and surrounded by a light stubble, the outline of a growing goatee. It would seem that his nose has elongated to fit his face as it stretches from his brow and stops an inch before his lips. Yet his nose is not like a sail, it does not fly from his face, but remains close pressed to that smooth healthy skin of his. His brow overshadows those lovely dark eyes of his as it is usually furrowed beneath the dark bangs of his hair. Those eyes are such a souless onyx beneath that brow, but if one is lucky to catch a glimpse of them in the light they’ll see passionate brown eyes, reflecting the troubles of the world in the most beautiful of ways. Atop his head a mass of black cloud has liquefied and stayed anchored to his skull. He cuts his hair so that it rests on his shoulders and keeps well out of his way.
Personality:
The Dark~ Unhappy is one thing, but adding a deep resentment towards your family and a hatred for being manipulated is like pouring gasoline on a fire. This man is a magnet for dark thoughts and sinister notions. It’s not that he’s actually done anything terrible (discount the brutal bar-fights and the empty “I’m going to kill you” threats)…but you get the feeling he’s always on the brink of it.
The Passionate~ Never one to be still, he swings from all sides of opposite extremes: Severe bottomless pit meaningless universe depression, raging fiery authority hating fury, extreme floating on air joy to the world happy, and of course, most common, the ‘Let’s just go out and do something dangerous just because we can’.
The Hunger~ Deep down, the above traits of his personality were developed to pacify the all devouring pit inside of him. What can fill it? Power? Sex? Marks? None of those things are worth a shard to him. The one thing that could possibly fix it he avoids like the Plague. I don’t think it needs naming.
The Contribution~ So with all the Chaos and Hatred for authority burning inside of him. What does he contribute to the Weyr? Well for one thing, that passionate energy that’s driving him to near insanity is also driving him into being a hard-worker. He serves the Solace Weyr to the best of his ability, and trains regularly to take his mind off things. Secondly, he and his dragon are very skilled flyers. Perhaps not the best, but when one takes into account his age and his dragon’s age it’s quite the accomplishment. And Lastly, despite all the trouble he gets himself into, despite his slight tendency to become loose with his sarcastic tongue, overall, he would die for this Weyr. He would die for it simply because it had excepted him when no one else would.
History:
Jason was destined to be the family failure, or at least that’s how he saw it. He was the youngest of three sons. His family was not the wealthiest, but they weren’t exactly dirt poor other, which is to say, his father ate like a pig and his mother and siblings scraped the left-overs. His oldest brother was well into grooming to take over the family business by the time Jason was born. His second-oldest brother was an journeyman blacksmith (an occupation his father saw disgusting and wasted no opportunity to slam) and as a result he left rather early in Jason’s childhood. This left Jason in the overbearing atmosphere of his home with little defense. His mother was a coward and rarely spoke up unless his father attempted to physically harm him. No, no, the mental and emotional abuse of such a home was more than enough. His father would ask the young Jason what would his future career be and every answer he ever gave was shot down instantly. He was locked in the cabinet a few times for breaking things in the house. Within that cabinet he screamed and sobbed and cried for candlemarks on end until his mother demanded and fought to get him out.
But Jason soon grew too big for the cabinet and at thirteen turns he packed his things and left without so much as a good-bye to his mother, an act he secretly always regretted. So he lived a few turns out on his own, occasionally he’d befriend a fellow rogue or two, but he soon stopped this practice after realizing that in the end they will always rob you blind. Learning quickly to not trust anyone, he refused even to become an apprentice and learn something useful, it was deeply rooted in his mind that he was too stupid to work any decent job.
He traversed only a small part of the continent, but to him it was practically the world. It just so happened, that he entered a hold that was being searched. Putting his hood up, he tried to slip past the dragon pair, but the dragon twisted and looked him in the eye. She (for later he learned the dragon was a female) appeared to be about to say something, but it was the rider who spoke and asked, nearly demanded, that he go with them.
He became a candidate at the Solace Weyr. Jason was shy at first, distrusting the other candidates as he did the rogues. But he soon gained the sense that these people were not out to get him and he eased up a little. He even started to like a few. There was a girl he was interested in, but once she impressed she seemed to have forgotten he existed. This would have stung a bit more had he not been busy with his own candidate lessons. The more he learned about dragons and whers the more excited he became about possibly impressing. But what sick dragon would ever impress to a screwball like him? If he was too dumb to get become a skilled worker…why should any dragon impress to him?
By some miracle a dragon did. Hatched from the Abyss Egg a large and handsome iron hatching, lounged on the sands and picked out his candidate without even moving. It stared at him with eyes swirling the colors of impression.
You disappoint me, Mine. Why do you not come and greet your Wrath?
His lip quivered. The iron was playing tricks on him. There was no way a creature of such a high rank and with such a steady and smooth mind-voice, could ever possibly be His. Why would such a glorious dragon choose an idiot like him?
Oh Mine, the only thing idiotic about you is that you do not come and feed me. Your Wrath is hungry!
Hesitantly, he approached and did not fully believe it was his until it was fed and had assured him three more times that he was his bonded. Once the fear that Wrath might go away went down he felt the incredible strength of his bond to the iron and was truly happy for the first time in years.
His Weyrling lessons flew by, and he made new friends, closer ones. Now that he had an anchor to keep him more grounded, he felt boundless and strong. This often got him into trouble with the higher ups, who on occasion put him bitterly back in his place. On such occasions, even Wrath was enraged on his behalf due to the strength of their bond.
They graduated only recently, and as the only other iron rider he feels a strong competitive bond against the other. Although there is rarely anything mean or bitter about it, he does tend to tease and make sarcastic remarks about the opponent. In the end its all in good fun…and who wins the flights.
His first flight, by the way, was not so pretty. Wrath did not seem quite so able to handle the strong pulls of lust. Thankfully, it was not a Queen he was chasing, and so he both received and dealt rather few injuries.
Rank: Dragonrider
Status: Healthy and rearing to go.
Dragon Name: Wrath
Color Coding: 999999, 666666, 000000
Dragon Rank: Iron
Dragon Appearance: A whopping total of 39 feet from nose to tail, Wrath is no small fall-fry amongst his rank. He is a rather handsome creature as far as dragons go. His body is actually a bit more slender than what most males are generally. His neck is a little longer and his tail is bit thinner, but this enables him to twist in the air with incredible ease and a greater speed. Wrath's wings are long and thin. Although they enable him good manuevering in the sky, it makes take off a bit difficult. Ironically, his wings are possibly the most fragile part of his body, Wrath and Jason, being aware of this, have adapted a style that permits them to defend his wings during the more violent flights with other limbs. His base color is an impenetrable black, but on his chest small dots of light gray and rusty brown curl into a spiral. His four paws are dipped in the same rust brown color that spots his chest.
Dragon Personality: Wrath is a frightening being, but not because he outwardly poses a threat. For the most part he lounges about calmly and very rarely speaks to anyone (dragon, human, and wher alike) other than J’son. What makes people so uneasy about him is that he never seems totally relaxed. He “lounges” by sitting up with his long neck rather fixed in a slight curve and he stares with incredible focus that makes others squirm beneath his gaze. Below the surface, other creatures can feel something boiling, but they cannot see it and that frightens them.
As his name suggests, he is not the calm and reserved dragon that he poses to be, but he is quite a lot better at withholding his chaotic emotions than his bonded. Wrath has never hurt any human, but in his first flight bit at a few of his opponents. In Flight, the true fire of his passion emerges, rather than holding things in, words spill from his mind, and rather than restraining his fierce impulse to move, he is allowed to twist and turn with all the fury of a battle without causing purposeful harm.
Mind-Voice: Cool as water melted straight from the mountains. Calm as desert air. Sneakingly Sinister as a monster lurking beneath ice-covered waters. Wrath's mind voice is an unpleasant chill in the brain. He speaks at a low pitch so that the words linger in one's mind but do not quite echo. There is always a calming air, a reasonable tone, enshrouding the words he says no matter how horrible the message may be. This allows for humans and other creatures to judge for themselves whether or not he is serious. Although many will decide he is not, there is always the eerie feeling that he is.
Username: Yoko
Character #: 1
Name: Jason (J’son)
Age: 26
Gender: Male
Sexuality: Bisexual
Appearance: J’son stands at about 5 foot 7, not at all a giant but not quite a short-stuff either. Those 5 feet and seven inches are well muscled. but he looks rather thin without tight clothing. His upper body dominates this thin frame, so in comparison his waist seems rather narrow and his legs look thinner than they are. Because of his somewhat awkward form, he tends to dress in rather loose fitting clothing that cloaks upper-body strength rather than revealing. He also shows a strong preference for soft material clothing. Even though his skin is quite healthy, he does dislike clothes that scratch or feel remotely uncomfortable.
He has a rather narrow face with a pointed chin. His rosebud lips are stretched ever so slightly and surrounded by a light stubble, the outline of a growing goatee. It would seem that his nose has elongated to fit his face as it stretches from his brow and stops an inch before his lips. Yet his nose is not like a sail, it does not fly from his face, but remains close pressed to that smooth healthy skin of his. His brow overshadows those lovely dark eyes of his as it is usually furrowed beneath the dark bangs of his hair. Those eyes are such a souless onyx beneath that brow, but if one is lucky to catch a glimpse of them in the light they’ll see passionate brown eyes, reflecting the troubles of the world in the most beautiful of ways. Atop his head a mass of black cloud has liquefied and stayed anchored to his skull. He cuts his hair so that it rests on his shoulders and keeps well out of his way.
Personality:
The Dark~ Unhappy is one thing, but adding a deep resentment towards your family and a hatred for being manipulated is like pouring gasoline on a fire. This man is a magnet for dark thoughts and sinister notions. It’s not that he’s actually done anything terrible (discount the brutal bar-fights and the empty “I’m going to kill you” threats)…but you get the feeling he’s always on the brink of it.
The Passionate~ Never one to be still, he swings from all sides of opposite extremes: Severe bottomless pit meaningless universe depression, raging fiery authority hating fury, extreme floating on air joy to the world happy, and of course, most common, the ‘Let’s just go out and do something dangerous just because we can’.
The Hunger~ Deep down, the above traits of his personality were developed to pacify the all devouring pit inside of him. What can fill it? Power? Sex? Marks? None of those things are worth a shard to him. The one thing that could possibly fix it he avoids like the Plague. I don’t think it needs naming.
The Contribution~ So with all the Chaos and Hatred for authority burning inside of him. What does he contribute to the Weyr? Well for one thing, that passionate energy that’s driving him to near insanity is also driving him into being a hard-worker. He serves the Solace Weyr to the best of his ability, and trains regularly to take his mind off things. Secondly, he and his dragon are very skilled flyers. Perhaps not the best, but when one takes into account his age and his dragon’s age it’s quite the accomplishment. And Lastly, despite all the trouble he gets himself into, despite his slight tendency to become loose with his sarcastic tongue, overall, he would die for this Weyr. He would die for it simply because it had excepted him when no one else would.
History:
Jason was destined to be the family failure, or at least that’s how he saw it. He was the youngest of three sons. His family was not the wealthiest, but they weren’t exactly dirt poor other, which is to say, his father ate like a pig and his mother and siblings scraped the left-overs. His oldest brother was well into grooming to take over the family business by the time Jason was born. His second-oldest brother was an journeyman blacksmith (an occupation his father saw disgusting and wasted no opportunity to slam) and as a result he left rather early in Jason’s childhood. This left Jason in the overbearing atmosphere of his home with little defense. His mother was a coward and rarely spoke up unless his father attempted to physically harm him. No, no, the mental and emotional abuse of such a home was more than enough. His father would ask the young Jason what would his future career be and every answer he ever gave was shot down instantly. He was locked in the cabinet a few times for breaking things in the house. Within that cabinet he screamed and sobbed and cried for candlemarks on end until his mother demanded and fought to get him out.
But Jason soon grew too big for the cabinet and at thirteen turns he packed his things and left without so much as a good-bye to his mother, an act he secretly always regretted. So he lived a few turns out on his own, occasionally he’d befriend a fellow rogue or two, but he soon stopped this practice after realizing that in the end they will always rob you blind. Learning quickly to not trust anyone, he refused even to become an apprentice and learn something useful, it was deeply rooted in his mind that he was too stupid to work any decent job.
He traversed only a small part of the continent, but to him it was practically the world. It just so happened, that he entered a hold that was being searched. Putting his hood up, he tried to slip past the dragon pair, but the dragon twisted and looked him in the eye. She (for later he learned the dragon was a female) appeared to be about to say something, but it was the rider who spoke and asked, nearly demanded, that he go with them.
He became a candidate at the Solace Weyr. Jason was shy at first, distrusting the other candidates as he did the rogues. But he soon gained the sense that these people were not out to get him and he eased up a little. He even started to like a few. There was a girl he was interested in, but once she impressed she seemed to have forgotten he existed. This would have stung a bit more had he not been busy with his own candidate lessons. The more he learned about dragons and whers the more excited he became about possibly impressing. But what sick dragon would ever impress to a screwball like him? If he was too dumb to get become a skilled worker…why should any dragon impress to him?
By some miracle a dragon did. Hatched from the Abyss Egg a large and handsome iron hatching, lounged on the sands and picked out his candidate without even moving. It stared at him with eyes swirling the colors of impression.
You disappoint me, Mine. Why do you not come and greet your Wrath?
His lip quivered. The iron was playing tricks on him. There was no way a creature of such a high rank and with such a steady and smooth mind-voice, could ever possibly be His. Why would such a glorious dragon choose an idiot like him?
Oh Mine, the only thing idiotic about you is that you do not come and feed me. Your Wrath is hungry!
Hesitantly, he approached and did not fully believe it was his until it was fed and had assured him three more times that he was his bonded. Once the fear that Wrath might go away went down he felt the incredible strength of his bond to the iron and was truly happy for the first time in years.
His Weyrling lessons flew by, and he made new friends, closer ones. Now that he had an anchor to keep him more grounded, he felt boundless and strong. This often got him into trouble with the higher ups, who on occasion put him bitterly back in his place. On such occasions, even Wrath was enraged on his behalf due to the strength of their bond.
They graduated only recently, and as the only other iron rider he feels a strong competitive bond against the other. Although there is rarely anything mean or bitter about it, he does tend to tease and make sarcastic remarks about the opponent. In the end its all in good fun…and who wins the flights.
His first flight, by the way, was not so pretty. Wrath did not seem quite so able to handle the strong pulls of lust. Thankfully, it was not a Queen he was chasing, and so he both received and dealt rather few injuries.
Rank: Dragonrider
Status: Healthy and rearing to go.
Dragon Name: Wrath
Color Coding: 999999, 666666, 000000
Dragon Rank: Iron
Dragon Appearance: A whopping total of 39 feet from nose to tail, Wrath is no small fall-fry amongst his rank. He is a rather handsome creature as far as dragons go. His body is actually a bit more slender than what most males are generally. His neck is a little longer and his tail is bit thinner, but this enables him to twist in the air with incredible ease and a greater speed. Wrath's wings are long and thin. Although they enable him good manuevering in the sky, it makes take off a bit difficult. Ironically, his wings are possibly the most fragile part of his body, Wrath and Jason, being aware of this, have adapted a style that permits them to defend his wings during the more violent flights with other limbs. His base color is an impenetrable black, but on his chest small dots of light gray and rusty brown curl into a spiral. His four paws are dipped in the same rust brown color that spots his chest.
Dragon Personality: Wrath is a frightening being, but not because he outwardly poses a threat. For the most part he lounges about calmly and very rarely speaks to anyone (dragon, human, and wher alike) other than J’son. What makes people so uneasy about him is that he never seems totally relaxed. He “lounges” by sitting up with his long neck rather fixed in a slight curve and he stares with incredible focus that makes others squirm beneath his gaze. Below the surface, other creatures can feel something boiling, but they cannot see it and that frightens them.
As his name suggests, he is not the calm and reserved dragon that he poses to be, but he is quite a lot better at withholding his chaotic emotions than his bonded. Wrath has never hurt any human, but in his first flight bit at a few of his opponents. In Flight, the true fire of his passion emerges, rather than holding things in, words spill from his mind, and rather than restraining his fierce impulse to move, he is allowed to twist and turn with all the fury of a battle without causing purposeful harm.
Mind-Voice: Cool as water melted straight from the mountains. Calm as desert air. Sneakingly Sinister as a monster lurking beneath ice-covered waters. Wrath's mind voice is an unpleasant chill in the brain. He speaks at a low pitch so that the words linger in one's mind but do not quite echo. There is always a calming air, a reasonable tone, enshrouding the words he says no matter how horrible the message may be. This allows for humans and other creatures to judge for themselves whether or not he is serious. Although many will decide he is not, there is always the eerie feeling that he is.
