Post by mandafloon on Oct 30, 2011 21:32:28 GMT -5
Username: Mandafloon
Character Number: 1
Name: Meltel (M'tel)
Age: 15 turns
Gender: Male
Sexuality: Bisexual (he thinks he's straight right now though lol.)
Rank: Candidate
Wing: N/A
Status: Grumpy but well off enough.
Appearance: In terms of physical appearance Meltel is perhaps known to be the 'monkey in the middle'; in other words, he's average in almost every aspect related with physique. Female physique, that is. He is a strangely feminine in appearance. His face seems to be that of a young girl's. Other than that oddity, if you bothered to look for him in an overlarge crowd, you'd probably not find him as he blends in incredibly well, almost too well for his own good. His build is slight and strangely curvaceous for a man. From head to toe he measures only 5'5", quite short. Even as such, he doesn't detest the way he looks, in fact makes more of a joke of it than anything else. When he is feeling protective of his size, he tends to stand drawn fully up, chin tilted defiantly to whatever force may oppose him, be it human, dragon, or any other form of life. He moves rather clumsily even for his "petite" size, often crashing into a wall he may have leaned against a few moments before. This clumsiness seems to wash away whenever he sets foot on a dance floor, however. He is an elegant sight to behold when dancing, and he has more knowledge of how to move his hips (in dancing or walking) than any man ever should. Even if he does it unintentionally. He is often mistaken for a girl, and often flirted with, which embarrasses the shells out of him.
Facially, he tends to waver to a more "unique" side of the everyday faces of Pernese than the person standing next to him. Stringy dark locks frame his delicate fair face neatly with a mass of curls normally covering his eyes. Whether or not he could see through the hair is another question, hence his honestly unintended displays of clumsiness. Behind the bangs, his eyes are large and looming, resembling the brightest glows at a faraway distance. The irises are a rich oaken color, with hints of lighter brown near the irises. If one bothers to ask him why he would hide them he would most likely respond with a shuffling of his feet and respectfully, if not stiffly, ask them to go away. With such long lashes, his eyes are one of the key reasons he is mistaken for a female, even when faced up close and directly.
A sprinkling of freckles can be seen across the middle of his face, stretching from one cheek across his nose, and to the end of the other one. Meltel's lips are rather plush and are a delicate pink in color, and seem forever curved into a small smile if not a large grin across the expanse of his face. Though not present on his neck, the freckles that are on his face managed to form on both his arms in brown splotches. Disliking that feature, Meltel normally prefers to wear clothing of long-sleeved nature even on a flaming hot summer day only to hide them. His hands are best explained as an artist's hands, worn from working and with slender fingers with chipped and dirtied nails. That he could care less about, as it is a sign of his hard work around the weyr, and he is quite proud of his hands rather than shunning them. He has no more scars on his body than every other young boy.
His voice is fairly quiet, though firm, and that irritating middle pitch that could be either female or male; it is unfortunately of no help to newcomers determining his gender.
Personality: Mel is smart and he knows it, making him behave somewhat snobbish to others his own age. He enjoys talking to his elders more than people his own age, mainly because he views his fellows as 'immature'. He enjoys dancing and reading, and is naturally clean and thus diligent in all of his chores. Other than older people, he adores young children. He is a heavy romantic, though he desperately tries to not be. His logical side clearly states how illogical love can make people, but the thought of meeting some nice girl and sending her flowers and gifts and maybe even- perish the thought- kissing her sends him for loops. And once he's gone, he is GONE. It literally takes a slap to the face to bring him around. Unfortunately, his androgynous looks have often made him the object of much unwanted attention from other males, and he now becomes intensely nervous whenever a male approaches with any sort of 'friendly' look. This tendency to be flirted with has caused him to develop an excellent memory for not only who has approached him, but who he is on good terms with, who he is angry with, who is angry at him, and so on and so forth. He definitely holds a grudge, and he is quite capable of getting even. Along with knowing the people of the weyr, he knows the weyr itself very well and he is quite adept at setting nasty traps for those who anger him. He is loyal to the weyr to a fault and would gladly do everything he could to help their people.
History: He was born and raised in the weyr; his father was a rider of some sort, and his mother a weyr cook. He was the product of a randy flight-night, and he's never met his father. Nor does his mother care to fill him in. He grew up mainly in the creche, but has felt his mother's influence. From infancy he knew he would try to stand on the sands and become a rider--not out of desire to be like his father, but just because it is a path he knows he can take to aid the weyr. He has stood once or twice, unsuccessfully, but hasn't let it get him down.
He has long been infatuated with dragons, and has always tried to be on his best behavior as a candidate to earn the better chores of assisting with them with their riders. He has learned well all the ins and outs of dragon care, and has made a point of offering to help instruct newer candidates, especially those of holder stock. This has made him plenty of friends, for which he is glad, though he has continued to devote himself to the care of the weyr itself and its dragons over his social obligations.
He was infuriated at the death of the weyrwoman, and more so with himself and his inability to help hunt for the intruder or wreak revenge on the perpetrators. He has kept a wary eye on the hardening clutch, mentally willing from afar that the hatchlings be safe and sane despite the closeness of their dulling mother. He was displeased with the forgoing of the touching ceremony, but accepted the decision about it as would any good soldier an order from a higher up. Lately as the hatching has drawn closer he has tried to linger near the hatching sands more often in his free time, just in case anything goes wrong, or a saboteur returns, that he might spot them and run to tell someone who could actually do something.
Along with the rule that sexuality amongst candidates is prohibited, he has resisted the budding urges to seek out female company. Being a romantic, he has had his periods of infatuation, but has never let anything go its course, determined to instead do his duty and wait for a dragonet, or to age out of that option. Sadly no all are of that opinion, and more than once he has been not only mistaken for a female, but approached by randy, less in control boys looking for a bit of secret bump and grind. The invariable result is a slapped boy looking confused, and a Meltel hiding in some room somewhere either crying or shaking with rage. Understanding that such emotional outbursts could be negative to dragons, he has been trying to be calmer about these incidents lately, instead trying to use words to explain that he is a boy, and does not swing that way.
Family: Unnamed father. Mother is Luicee, an NPC cook.
Character Number: 1
Name: Meltel (M'tel)
Age: 15 turns
Gender: Male
Sexuality: Bisexual (he thinks he's straight right now though lol.)
Rank: Candidate
Wing: N/A
Status: Grumpy but well off enough.
Appearance: In terms of physical appearance Meltel is perhaps known to be the 'monkey in the middle'; in other words, he's average in almost every aspect related with physique. Female physique, that is. He is a strangely feminine in appearance. His face seems to be that of a young girl's. Other than that oddity, if you bothered to look for him in an overlarge crowd, you'd probably not find him as he blends in incredibly well, almost too well for his own good. His build is slight and strangely curvaceous for a man. From head to toe he measures only 5'5", quite short. Even as such, he doesn't detest the way he looks, in fact makes more of a joke of it than anything else. When he is feeling protective of his size, he tends to stand drawn fully up, chin tilted defiantly to whatever force may oppose him, be it human, dragon, or any other form of life. He moves rather clumsily even for his "petite" size, often crashing into a wall he may have leaned against a few moments before. This clumsiness seems to wash away whenever he sets foot on a dance floor, however. He is an elegant sight to behold when dancing, and he has more knowledge of how to move his hips (in dancing or walking) than any man ever should. Even if he does it unintentionally. He is often mistaken for a girl, and often flirted with, which embarrasses the shells out of him.
Facially, he tends to waver to a more "unique" side of the everyday faces of Pernese than the person standing next to him. Stringy dark locks frame his delicate fair face neatly with a mass of curls normally covering his eyes. Whether or not he could see through the hair is another question, hence his honestly unintended displays of clumsiness. Behind the bangs, his eyes are large and looming, resembling the brightest glows at a faraway distance. The irises are a rich oaken color, with hints of lighter brown near the irises. If one bothers to ask him why he would hide them he would most likely respond with a shuffling of his feet and respectfully, if not stiffly, ask them to go away. With such long lashes, his eyes are one of the key reasons he is mistaken for a female, even when faced up close and directly.
A sprinkling of freckles can be seen across the middle of his face, stretching from one cheek across his nose, and to the end of the other one. Meltel's lips are rather plush and are a delicate pink in color, and seem forever curved into a small smile if not a large grin across the expanse of his face. Though not present on his neck, the freckles that are on his face managed to form on both his arms in brown splotches. Disliking that feature, Meltel normally prefers to wear clothing of long-sleeved nature even on a flaming hot summer day only to hide them. His hands are best explained as an artist's hands, worn from working and with slender fingers with chipped and dirtied nails. That he could care less about, as it is a sign of his hard work around the weyr, and he is quite proud of his hands rather than shunning them. He has no more scars on his body than every other young boy.
His voice is fairly quiet, though firm, and that irritating middle pitch that could be either female or male; it is unfortunately of no help to newcomers determining his gender.
Personality: Mel is smart and he knows it, making him behave somewhat snobbish to others his own age. He enjoys talking to his elders more than people his own age, mainly because he views his fellows as 'immature'. He enjoys dancing and reading, and is naturally clean and thus diligent in all of his chores. Other than older people, he adores young children. He is a heavy romantic, though he desperately tries to not be. His logical side clearly states how illogical love can make people, but the thought of meeting some nice girl and sending her flowers and gifts and maybe even- perish the thought- kissing her sends him for loops. And once he's gone, he is GONE. It literally takes a slap to the face to bring him around. Unfortunately, his androgynous looks have often made him the object of much unwanted attention from other males, and he now becomes intensely nervous whenever a male approaches with any sort of 'friendly' look. This tendency to be flirted with has caused him to develop an excellent memory for not only who has approached him, but who he is on good terms with, who he is angry with, who is angry at him, and so on and so forth. He definitely holds a grudge, and he is quite capable of getting even. Along with knowing the people of the weyr, he knows the weyr itself very well and he is quite adept at setting nasty traps for those who anger him. He is loyal to the weyr to a fault and would gladly do everything he could to help their people.
History: He was born and raised in the weyr; his father was a rider of some sort, and his mother a weyr cook. He was the product of a randy flight-night, and he's never met his father. Nor does his mother care to fill him in. He grew up mainly in the creche, but has felt his mother's influence. From infancy he knew he would try to stand on the sands and become a rider--not out of desire to be like his father, but just because it is a path he knows he can take to aid the weyr. He has stood once or twice, unsuccessfully, but hasn't let it get him down.
He has long been infatuated with dragons, and has always tried to be on his best behavior as a candidate to earn the better chores of assisting with them with their riders. He has learned well all the ins and outs of dragon care, and has made a point of offering to help instruct newer candidates, especially those of holder stock. This has made him plenty of friends, for which he is glad, though he has continued to devote himself to the care of the weyr itself and its dragons over his social obligations.
He was infuriated at the death of the weyrwoman, and more so with himself and his inability to help hunt for the intruder or wreak revenge on the perpetrators. He has kept a wary eye on the hardening clutch, mentally willing from afar that the hatchlings be safe and sane despite the closeness of their dulling mother. He was displeased with the forgoing of the touching ceremony, but accepted the decision about it as would any good soldier an order from a higher up. Lately as the hatching has drawn closer he has tried to linger near the hatching sands more often in his free time, just in case anything goes wrong, or a saboteur returns, that he might spot them and run to tell someone who could actually do something.
Along with the rule that sexuality amongst candidates is prohibited, he has resisted the budding urges to seek out female company. Being a romantic, he has had his periods of infatuation, but has never let anything go its course, determined to instead do his duty and wait for a dragonet, or to age out of that option. Sadly no all are of that opinion, and more than once he has been not only mistaken for a female, but approached by randy, less in control boys looking for a bit of secret bump and grind. The invariable result is a slapped boy looking confused, and a Meltel hiding in some room somewhere either crying or shaking with rage. Understanding that such emotional outbursts could be negative to dragons, he has been trying to be calmer about these incidents lately, instead trying to use words to explain that he is a boy, and does not swing that way.
Family: Unnamed father. Mother is Luicee, an NPC cook.
