Post by jack on Mar 14, 2009 14:08:13 GMT -5
Name: B’rak
Gender: Male
Age: 25
Sexuality: Bisexual – honestly isn’t too particularly interested in romance, but is even less interested in quick-flings. He’s a down-to-earth, love who you love kind of fellow.
Location: Dalibor Weyr
Rank: Wingsecond(To the distaste of Shoth)
Personality:
B’rak is an easy-going fellow, with a light smile and a smooth pace. Although he doesn’t mind talking he seems to naturally keep speaking to a minimum, and can portray a ridiculous amount of information just by looking at someone. He is eager to help, and although he won’t approach someone and ask for a job, he’ll respond to any request and will take heavy loads from others if he believes it to be too heavy for them.
He has an oddly lovely voice and likes to hum, but tends to keep his singing between himself and his dragon. He is quite capable at drums and is surprisingly good at pipes for the size of his fingers, but dislikes any and all string instruments. When he sings or plays, he tends to keep himself distant from others because he feels that his performance is inadequate for anyone but his and his dragon’s ears despite having had good training.
Appearance: B’rak—formerly Braek—is an incredibly hard to miss fellow. Born and raised in the mines, and damn proud of it, he is broad shouldered and tall, topping the scales at just over 6’3”. He bears the scars of growing up running around with a pick-ax perhaps a shade too young, and has a distinctly muscular frame—although not quite as brawny as his kinsmen still at the mines.
Unlike many of his holdmates, who have pale, sun-deprived skin, B’rak has always had rich tan skin—a trademark of his father’s family. Unlike either side, however, B’rak’s hair is shockingly white, devoid of all pigment. How this has come about stumps his family, as even the elderly of the group have darker hair, only whitening when they’ve hit seventy to eighty turns old. But white it is, and white its always been. Fact of the matter is, as a child he would get so covered in soot the only way to find him would be that white hair, which somehow managed to remain a semblance of its original color while the rest of him was pitch black.
The man’s eyes are a very dark color, usually described as black, although his mother likes to say they’re navy. Whether or not they are—which would make just as little sense as his hair, as both parents and grandparents are brown eyed—is up to those who look at them to decide. B’rak couldn’t care either way.
B’rak, being the hoarder, collector, and overall packrat that he is, has, acquired a mixed wardrobe—easily described as something that happens when a miner, smith, half of a harper, and a guard go blind at once and end up trading gear—that suits his purposes quite well. He seems especially fond of leather arm guards, and has quite a variety of them, each a different color or shape depending on the job they’re best suited for.
Family:
Father: Braelyn, Masterminer(in Dalibor)
Mother: Leiark
Younger Sister: Lei-Lei, Wherhandler/Healer[Leiask]
Younger Brother: Brenn, Apprentice Miner
Pets:
n/a
History: B’rak was born in a small mining hold to a sweet young woman and a mining Master named Braelyn. A man in his early 20s at the time, B’rak’s father was a very ambitious fellow, but that ambition did not transfer into his son as many predicted it would. Although his child was not lazy in the least—Braelyn commented often that the boy was harder a worker than he had been—he never considered or thought of anything above what he could reach at the moment.
An excellent miner, B’rak showed a strange knack at finding things at a young age, and everyone in the Hold knew that he would go far whether or not he truly strived to. He was skilled at making things too, however, and although he honestly enjoyed digging, absolutely loved to meld metal and work with his hands.
At six and ten respectively, B’rak’s younger sister—Lei-Lei—and brother—Brenn—were brought into the world. Not long after Brenn was born, a grey wher by the name of Leisk was introduced into the family as well, leading around his blind sister. When their father was in his late 30s they moved from the Hold to the Minecraft Hall, where Braelyn had become Masterminer. Braek Apprenticed in the Hall, but before he could become even a Journeyman Miner, a very strange occurance happened.
A passing journeyman Harper heard the young man’s amateur piping when the Hall’s Harper was off on business and B’rak was playing for his fellow miner’s in the evening while they waited for the man’s return—most boys in the Hall knew how to pipe from years in their individual Holds, but B’rak had always been the best, oddly enough—as well as his singing, and immediately approached the baritone. Although B’rak had no intention of becoming a Harper—and indeed told the man such—he agreed to come with him and at least improve on his instruments and singing in order to better please his Hall. Needless to say, the Harper was a very convincing fellow.
Braelyn—shocked as he was to be told his son was off to Harper Hall—was proud nonetheless. He even remarked that the boy had gotten his voice from his mother and that she too had been at the Harper Hall for a time, though she had boarded there. So off the lad went.
A couple years later, he was heading home leaving bemused teachers behind. As far from ambitious as he was, he loved the mines far more than music and had worked extra hard in order to get himself home faster. Nonetheless, he was going home with a voice and a tune good enough to rival most of the apprentices in the Hall. The boy mounted a big brown dragon and they took off…only for the rider to give a surprised grunt an instant before they went between.
Rather than the pleasing sight of his Hold, however, it was the unfamiliar Weyr that met B’rak’s gaze when they left the cold of between. Surprised and confused he simply held on, not even getting to hear the explanation for the sudden destination change or the rough landing—he could have sworn he felt even the rider wince—before he was dragged off the dragon and away.
Only a few minutes later—and not quite so sure the room wasn’t spinning—he was shoved out onto the sands, dressed in white and faced with a massive Queen. On instinct alone he bowed, retreating to the other boys—all of which were…much shorter—while he tried to figure things out. It didn’t take long for everything to click, but he was no less confused how exactly he—he certainly didn’t look like a Candidate before he’d been forcibly redressed—had been mistook for one.
But it was too late to fix things by that point, and what would become his partner for life hatched later that evening.
From the beginning, Shoth was confident. Confident, proud, and as ambitious as Braelyn, the dragonet may have been ridiculously small—instantly dubbed a runt—but he gave off the vibe of a full-size Bronze. It didn’t take long for the little fellow to be king of his own little army of ooing and awing people, who found the noble aura of the tiny creature to be as adorable as they came…even though he himself was convinced it was because they were in awe—or in fear, depending on his mood—of him. Even the full-size dragonets and dragons were a bit taken aback by his nature, as anyone bigger than a house would be when an under-sized animal barked up at them to ‘move your bloody heads so a fellow can get some sun!’.
For B’rak, who was the kind of fellow who—despite his size and ability to physically or verbally make someone move out of the way—deliberately went out of his way to make sure he didn’t get in the way, Shoth was a complete shock. The tiny dragonet bossed everyone around—including his “rider”—but would never allow someone to boss around B’rak, snarling up at them in a universally understood tone that clearly said ‘What on earth do you think you’re doing? Leave Mine alone and get to work you lazy bum!’. Of course, depending on the sound of his tummy at the moment, that could also translate to, ‘Leave Mine alone and bring me the still beating heart of your superior you incompetent and underworked piece of wher hide!’. He was a very grumpy fellow when hungry.
Together, the pair were completely at odds. B’rak found himself being lead around by this bundle of pride, only to be snapped at and told to ‘buck up and act like a man, Mine!’ at regular intervals. As completely opposite as the two were, they worked well together, and the over-the-top boldness and privileged opinion of the dragonet began to change B’rak as well. By the time Shoth had reached his full-size—which although much smaller than a Bronze should be, was also considerably larger than he was predicted to be—B’rak was a bolder—if still reserved and naturally kind—and more intimidating fellow, although he still maintained his gentleness. As for Shoth..well..he was bigger and more capable of carrying out his many threats to the ‘squishy human folk’.
Only a few years later, the pair is became a well known part of the Weyr…and to the weyrlings. Shoth in particular finds it to be an important part of their training to be introduced and learn to respect him—and B’rak, of course of course—but B’rak suspects that he’s more or less trying to imprint upon the dragonets that he is to be obeyed and feared. Nevertheless, the pair does did their share around their home Weyr , taking their place as a Wingsecond partially because of Shoth’s size, but mostly because of B’rak’s ever-present lack of ambition.
But things are destined for a change. B'rak and Shoth have recently been transferred to a nearby Weyr, closer to home than he's been in a long while. Who knows what's in store for them, here at Dalibor Weyr.
Dragon Name: Shoth
Dragon Age: 9 Turns
Dragon Color: Bronze
Dragon Length: 38.2 ft.
Dragon Personality: Shoth, in the easiest description, is what happens when a very large dragon, a noble, a spoiled brat, a small army of soldiers, a privileged cat, and a snippy british diplomat are squished together in an under-sized, dragon-shaped mold. He is the definition of ‘pride,’ the first-listed synonym of ‘confidence,’ and the most unbelievably self-important creature you will ever come across.
At first glance he’s adorable. At first sound—if you can’t understand him—he’s maybe inquisitive, or possibly wary. But the first time he arches back his neck and snaps at your leg, clearly demanding something, it becomes obvious he’s none of the above. Shoth believes he is entitled to anything and everything, and will not hesitate to confront anyone or anything about it should he be denied. He listens to no one but B’rak—and only if there’s something in it for him—and does not take the word ‘no’ very well.
Nevertheless he is also a very regal creature, and when he’s not snapping and barking orders, he is a pleasure to be around. B’rak swears he actually can carry on a pleasant conversation, but even after watching the pair very few people believe him. He’s fearless and bold, and will not hesitate to boss around even a Queen dragon, although B’rak has gotten quite good at dragging the dragon away or explaining things sufficiently enough to avoid him being mauled after at least twenty incidents with both baby and full-grown Queens—quite a feat when you realize there are only two or three Queens at any given time—when Shoth was still a dragonet.
Shoth is in a constantly serious mode, and does not make jokes, although his insults in themselves are often enough to snigger at. He can also rant and rave for extended amounts of time, and has given an order that lasted for a good five plus minutes without taking a breath. He abhors disobedience and impudence, and will approach anyone about it. It has been noted that Shoth’s telepathy is so loud that it can actually hurt your ears after an extended time, and he only bothers to speak to anyone but B’rak in actual words—although he likes to have B’rak translate occasionally—unless he’s demanding something in particular. Otherwise, he just wants something general enough that he can describe it with hisses and snaps and such and finds endless amusement in the confused/threatened faces of the squishy folk he bosses about.
One can also say that, unlike B’rak, Shoth strives for excellence and is constantly working to improve his rider—Shoth, of course, needs no improvement—and climb higher up in the social rung, if only respect-wise. He is overly ambitions and fights to become the best at everything, forcing B’rak to do the same. Not that its bad for the man to become better.
Dragon Appearance: He is a handsome creature with a gleaming bronze coat that—in B’rak’s pleased words—looks exactly like antiqued bronze. It is a pretty, rich color—perhaps a bit lighter tinted than most Bronzes—that shines through a much darker shade that often looks more like a dark chocolate color than the deep bronze that it is. He has an even darker shade along his spine and behind each leg, as well as above and behind his eyes and over his nose.
A bit vain in his own way, he insists that he is kept spotless, and will preen himself to perfection at periodic points every day, only to complain that only B’rak can oil him just right and that there is no reason he shouldn’t clean him six to eight times a day.
Dragon History: Shoth’s first moments in the world went by quickly, filled with the determined stomping and barreling over of Candidates, heading in a straight—and only straight—line towards His. Of course, he knew exactly where His was. He was born fantastic, you see. And fantastic creatures never have to hesitate to look for Theirs. B’rak, the odd human that he was, tried to convince the Hatchling there was a mistake..but Shoth quickly bit him, assuring him quite whole heartedly that he was His, and that nothing would change that. He didn’t make mistakes, you know.
From the beginning, Shoth knew he was underestimated. All the other dragonets towered over him—although only in stature, they had nothing on him!—and the adults had a nasty habit of not even realizing he was there! But that was fixed soon enough, his drill sergeant-esque barking and quick-to-snap tendencies quickly getting him the attention he deserved. The squishy-folk were in equal aw of him, and their strange worshiping was accepted whole heartedly, as he would never shun a fan, even if it was a strange, squishy one.
As he grew he learned many a thing, adding onto his immense knowledge the many different ways to get what he wanted easier..not that he couldn’t get it the hard way too! His grew as well, learning the way of the Perfect a bit at a time. B’rak would never be as grand as he was, the imperfect can never be completely perfect, but as far as Shoth was concerned, His towered quite considerably over the others, ranking just below Shoth himself.
Many years have passed since Shoth first took on his white-headed subordinate, and while the progress he has made is impressive, the dragon knows he has quite a ways to go with until they are the best. His will probably always be a bit too kind to other people than Shoth prefers, but once he convinces His to fight to become the Lead, rather than Support, the battle will be half over, and they can start really concentrating on Greatness.
Gender: Male
Age: 25
Sexuality: Bisexual – honestly isn’t too particularly interested in romance, but is even less interested in quick-flings. He’s a down-to-earth, love who you love kind of fellow.
Location: Dalibor Weyr
Rank: Wingsecond(To the distaste of Shoth)
Personality:
B’rak is an easy-going fellow, with a light smile and a smooth pace. Although he doesn’t mind talking he seems to naturally keep speaking to a minimum, and can portray a ridiculous amount of information just by looking at someone. He is eager to help, and although he won’t approach someone and ask for a job, he’ll respond to any request and will take heavy loads from others if he believes it to be too heavy for them.
He has an oddly lovely voice and likes to hum, but tends to keep his singing between himself and his dragon. He is quite capable at drums and is surprisingly good at pipes for the size of his fingers, but dislikes any and all string instruments. When he sings or plays, he tends to keep himself distant from others because he feels that his performance is inadequate for anyone but his and his dragon’s ears despite having had good training.
Appearance: B’rak—formerly Braek—is an incredibly hard to miss fellow. Born and raised in the mines, and damn proud of it, he is broad shouldered and tall, topping the scales at just over 6’3”. He bears the scars of growing up running around with a pick-ax perhaps a shade too young, and has a distinctly muscular frame—although not quite as brawny as his kinsmen still at the mines.
Unlike many of his holdmates, who have pale, sun-deprived skin, B’rak has always had rich tan skin—a trademark of his father’s family. Unlike either side, however, B’rak’s hair is shockingly white, devoid of all pigment. How this has come about stumps his family, as even the elderly of the group have darker hair, only whitening when they’ve hit seventy to eighty turns old. But white it is, and white its always been. Fact of the matter is, as a child he would get so covered in soot the only way to find him would be that white hair, which somehow managed to remain a semblance of its original color while the rest of him was pitch black.
The man’s eyes are a very dark color, usually described as black, although his mother likes to say they’re navy. Whether or not they are—which would make just as little sense as his hair, as both parents and grandparents are brown eyed—is up to those who look at them to decide. B’rak couldn’t care either way.
B’rak, being the hoarder, collector, and overall packrat that he is, has, acquired a mixed wardrobe—easily described as something that happens when a miner, smith, half of a harper, and a guard go blind at once and end up trading gear—that suits his purposes quite well. He seems especially fond of leather arm guards, and has quite a variety of them, each a different color or shape depending on the job they’re best suited for.
Family:
Father: Braelyn, Masterminer(in Dalibor)
Mother: Leiark
Younger Sister: Lei-Lei, Wherhandler/Healer[Leiask]
Younger Brother: Brenn, Apprentice Miner
Pets:
n/a
History: B’rak was born in a small mining hold to a sweet young woman and a mining Master named Braelyn. A man in his early 20s at the time, B’rak’s father was a very ambitious fellow, but that ambition did not transfer into his son as many predicted it would. Although his child was not lazy in the least—Braelyn commented often that the boy was harder a worker than he had been—he never considered or thought of anything above what he could reach at the moment.
An excellent miner, B’rak showed a strange knack at finding things at a young age, and everyone in the Hold knew that he would go far whether or not he truly strived to. He was skilled at making things too, however, and although he honestly enjoyed digging, absolutely loved to meld metal and work with his hands.
At six and ten respectively, B’rak’s younger sister—Lei-Lei—and brother—Brenn—were brought into the world. Not long after Brenn was born, a grey wher by the name of Leisk was introduced into the family as well, leading around his blind sister. When their father was in his late 30s they moved from the Hold to the Minecraft Hall, where Braelyn had become Masterminer. Braek Apprenticed in the Hall, but before he could become even a Journeyman Miner, a very strange occurance happened.
A passing journeyman Harper heard the young man’s amateur piping when the Hall’s Harper was off on business and B’rak was playing for his fellow miner’s in the evening while they waited for the man’s return—most boys in the Hall knew how to pipe from years in their individual Holds, but B’rak had always been the best, oddly enough—as well as his singing, and immediately approached the baritone. Although B’rak had no intention of becoming a Harper—and indeed told the man such—he agreed to come with him and at least improve on his instruments and singing in order to better please his Hall. Needless to say, the Harper was a very convincing fellow.
Braelyn—shocked as he was to be told his son was off to Harper Hall—was proud nonetheless. He even remarked that the boy had gotten his voice from his mother and that she too had been at the Harper Hall for a time, though she had boarded there. So off the lad went.
A couple years later, he was heading home leaving bemused teachers behind. As far from ambitious as he was, he loved the mines far more than music and had worked extra hard in order to get himself home faster. Nonetheless, he was going home with a voice and a tune good enough to rival most of the apprentices in the Hall. The boy mounted a big brown dragon and they took off…only for the rider to give a surprised grunt an instant before they went between.
Rather than the pleasing sight of his Hold, however, it was the unfamiliar Weyr that met B’rak’s gaze when they left the cold of between. Surprised and confused he simply held on, not even getting to hear the explanation for the sudden destination change or the rough landing—he could have sworn he felt even the rider wince—before he was dragged off the dragon and away.
Only a few minutes later—and not quite so sure the room wasn’t spinning—he was shoved out onto the sands, dressed in white and faced with a massive Queen. On instinct alone he bowed, retreating to the other boys—all of which were…much shorter—while he tried to figure things out. It didn’t take long for everything to click, but he was no less confused how exactly he—he certainly didn’t look like a Candidate before he’d been forcibly redressed—had been mistook for one.
But it was too late to fix things by that point, and what would become his partner for life hatched later that evening.
From the beginning, Shoth was confident. Confident, proud, and as ambitious as Braelyn, the dragonet may have been ridiculously small—instantly dubbed a runt—but he gave off the vibe of a full-size Bronze. It didn’t take long for the little fellow to be king of his own little army of ooing and awing people, who found the noble aura of the tiny creature to be as adorable as they came…even though he himself was convinced it was because they were in awe—or in fear, depending on his mood—of him. Even the full-size dragonets and dragons were a bit taken aback by his nature, as anyone bigger than a house would be when an under-sized animal barked up at them to ‘move your bloody heads so a fellow can get some sun!’.
For B’rak, who was the kind of fellow who—despite his size and ability to physically or verbally make someone move out of the way—deliberately went out of his way to make sure he didn’t get in the way, Shoth was a complete shock. The tiny dragonet bossed everyone around—including his “rider”—but would never allow someone to boss around B’rak, snarling up at them in a universally understood tone that clearly said ‘What on earth do you think you’re doing? Leave Mine alone and get to work you lazy bum!’. Of course, depending on the sound of his tummy at the moment, that could also translate to, ‘Leave Mine alone and bring me the still beating heart of your superior you incompetent and underworked piece of wher hide!’. He was a very grumpy fellow when hungry.
Together, the pair were completely at odds. B’rak found himself being lead around by this bundle of pride, only to be snapped at and told to ‘buck up and act like a man, Mine!’ at regular intervals. As completely opposite as the two were, they worked well together, and the over-the-top boldness and privileged opinion of the dragonet began to change B’rak as well. By the time Shoth had reached his full-size—which although much smaller than a Bronze should be, was also considerably larger than he was predicted to be—B’rak was a bolder—if still reserved and naturally kind—and more intimidating fellow, although he still maintained his gentleness. As for Shoth..well..he was bigger and more capable of carrying out his many threats to the ‘squishy human folk’.
Only a few years later, the pair is became a well known part of the Weyr…and to the weyrlings. Shoth in particular finds it to be an important part of their training to be introduced and learn to respect him—and B’rak, of course of course—but B’rak suspects that he’s more or less trying to imprint upon the dragonets that he is to be obeyed and feared. Nevertheless, the pair does did their share around their home Weyr , taking their place as a Wingsecond partially because of Shoth’s size, but mostly because of B’rak’s ever-present lack of ambition.
But things are destined for a change. B'rak and Shoth have recently been transferred to a nearby Weyr, closer to home than he's been in a long while. Who knows what's in store for them, here at Dalibor Weyr.
Dragon Name: Shoth
Dragon Age: 9 Turns
Dragon Color: Bronze
Dragon Length: 38.2 ft.
Dragon Personality: Shoth, in the easiest description, is what happens when a very large dragon, a noble, a spoiled brat, a small army of soldiers, a privileged cat, and a snippy british diplomat are squished together in an under-sized, dragon-shaped mold. He is the definition of ‘pride,’ the first-listed synonym of ‘confidence,’ and the most unbelievably self-important creature you will ever come across.
At first glance he’s adorable. At first sound—if you can’t understand him—he’s maybe inquisitive, or possibly wary. But the first time he arches back his neck and snaps at your leg, clearly demanding something, it becomes obvious he’s none of the above. Shoth believes he is entitled to anything and everything, and will not hesitate to confront anyone or anything about it should he be denied. He listens to no one but B’rak—and only if there’s something in it for him—and does not take the word ‘no’ very well.
Nevertheless he is also a very regal creature, and when he’s not snapping and barking orders, he is a pleasure to be around. B’rak swears he actually can carry on a pleasant conversation, but even after watching the pair very few people believe him. He’s fearless and bold, and will not hesitate to boss around even a Queen dragon, although B’rak has gotten quite good at dragging the dragon away or explaining things sufficiently enough to avoid him being mauled after at least twenty incidents with both baby and full-grown Queens—quite a feat when you realize there are only two or three Queens at any given time—when Shoth was still a dragonet.
Shoth is in a constantly serious mode, and does not make jokes, although his insults in themselves are often enough to snigger at. He can also rant and rave for extended amounts of time, and has given an order that lasted for a good five plus minutes without taking a breath. He abhors disobedience and impudence, and will approach anyone about it. It has been noted that Shoth’s telepathy is so loud that it can actually hurt your ears after an extended time, and he only bothers to speak to anyone but B’rak in actual words—although he likes to have B’rak translate occasionally—unless he’s demanding something in particular. Otherwise, he just wants something general enough that he can describe it with hisses and snaps and such and finds endless amusement in the confused/threatened faces of the squishy folk he bosses about.
One can also say that, unlike B’rak, Shoth strives for excellence and is constantly working to improve his rider—Shoth, of course, needs no improvement—and climb higher up in the social rung, if only respect-wise. He is overly ambitions and fights to become the best at everything, forcing B’rak to do the same. Not that its bad for the man to become better.
Dragon Appearance: He is a handsome creature with a gleaming bronze coat that—in B’rak’s pleased words—looks exactly like antiqued bronze. It is a pretty, rich color—perhaps a bit lighter tinted than most Bronzes—that shines through a much darker shade that often looks more like a dark chocolate color than the deep bronze that it is. He has an even darker shade along his spine and behind each leg, as well as above and behind his eyes and over his nose.
A bit vain in his own way, he insists that he is kept spotless, and will preen himself to perfection at periodic points every day, only to complain that only B’rak can oil him just right and that there is no reason he shouldn’t clean him six to eight times a day.
Dragon History: Shoth’s first moments in the world went by quickly, filled with the determined stomping and barreling over of Candidates, heading in a straight—and only straight—line towards His. Of course, he knew exactly where His was. He was born fantastic, you see. And fantastic creatures never have to hesitate to look for Theirs. B’rak, the odd human that he was, tried to convince the Hatchling there was a mistake..but Shoth quickly bit him, assuring him quite whole heartedly that he was His, and that nothing would change that. He didn’t make mistakes, you know.
From the beginning, Shoth knew he was underestimated. All the other dragonets towered over him—although only in stature, they had nothing on him!—and the adults had a nasty habit of not even realizing he was there! But that was fixed soon enough, his drill sergeant-esque barking and quick-to-snap tendencies quickly getting him the attention he deserved. The squishy-folk were in equal aw of him, and their strange worshiping was accepted whole heartedly, as he would never shun a fan, even if it was a strange, squishy one.
As he grew he learned many a thing, adding onto his immense knowledge the many different ways to get what he wanted easier..not that he couldn’t get it the hard way too! His grew as well, learning the way of the Perfect a bit at a time. B’rak would never be as grand as he was, the imperfect can never be completely perfect, but as far as Shoth was concerned, His towered quite considerably over the others, ranking just below Shoth himself.
Many years have passed since Shoth first took on his white-headed subordinate, and while the progress he has made is impressive, the dragon knows he has quite a ways to go with until they are the best. His will probably always be a bit too kind to other people than Shoth prefers, but once he convinces His to fight to become the Lead, rather than Support, the battle will be half over, and they can start really concentrating on Greatness.
