Post by jack on Mar 8, 2009 3:29:13 GMT -5
Name:Flaet
Gender:Male
Age: 17
Sexuality: Claims to be bisexual, is closer to homosexual.
Location: Holdless -- Travels from Gather to Gather with his teacher and a few other dancers.
Rank: Apprentice Dancer; Future Dragon Candidate
Personality: Flaet is—for lack of a better term—a fleeting fellow. Although he isn’t absent minded he seems to be, moving this way and that without a hint nor warning. Impulsive and energetic the teen can continue running or—as he prefers—dancing for hours on end, and never seems to be completely wiped out.
He’s a generous and cheerful guy who is almost always smiling, and seems to find the cheer in anything. The downside of this endless cheer is his inability to take anything incredibly seriously, approaching anything and everything as a game.
Although Flaet is fairly intelligent he can come off as clueless, going about his day with a blank smile until something of great interest strikes him, in which case good luck with keeping him back. He tends to be immature and has childlike ambitions, always looking high, only to say with a laugh ‘Of course that’ll never happen, but still!’.
He is a loyal individual, but can take some getting used to. Don’t let first impressions fool you, Flaet is a many-sided individual who takes pride in thrilling and shocking people at every turn.
Appearance: Flaet, in all senses of the word, is a very well-built lad. Of southern descent he has a deep skin-tone, a shade-lighter than bronze. His hair is a silky black, and reaches just about to mid-back, although it is kept constantly up in a ponytail wrapped in white, black, or blue fabric.
His eyes are a deep brown color, but depending on the season seem to lighten or darken in shade; for example, in the winter they are nearly black while they almost hit hazel during the summer.
Flaet is known for his good proportions and lean form, as well as for the muscle expected of a boy born by the sea. Unlike his kin, however, who have the thick brawn necessary for fishing, Flaet has always had a slimmer build and has been exceptionally flexible and agile from the start. His feet are somewhat small, and have hard soles—he is quite fond of shirking his shoes and hiding them so as to avoid wearing them until a new pair is made. Fact of the matter is, there’s a growing pile of shoes—everything from slippers to boots—hidden under a loose floorboard in one of the storerooms. Perhaps one day someone will stumble upon them...
Family:
Father: Jokaet
Mother: Fraesi
Pets:
Name: Run
Type: Fire Lizard
Color: Brown
Age: 1(almost two)
Appearance: A very dark brown creature who has unusually long limbs. He is well balanced despite his odd proportions, and has a lighter shade of brown—a hazel to the mahogany of his usual coat—around his eyes, under his chin, behind each leg, and on his belly and tail, although not under his neck.
Run, unlike Ram, has a fine, loose silver chain around his neck.
Personality: Run is the unmistakable leader of the two fire lizards. He is far more cunning than his sibling, although only prolonged exposure to both of them can show off this difference. Run usually dictates the pair’s dastardly deeds, and leads his sibling well. He is strangely attached to walking—or running—along table tops and pretty much any other flat, sturdy surface. He loves the sound of music, steady beats, and breaking plates.
Other: Run, for some unknown reason, absolutely hates dogs. Even stranger, he has an unusual love of runnerbeasts. He’s especially fond of hanging from their ears, although this is usually met with bellows and rearing and chaos.
Name: Ram
Type: Fire Lizard
Color: Brawn
Age: 1 (almost two)
Appearance: A very dark brown creature who has unusually long limbs. He is well balanced despite his odd proportions, and has a lighter shade of brown—a hazel to the mahogany of his usual coat—around his eyes, under his chin, behind each leg, and on his belly and tail, although not under his neck.
Ram, unlike Run, has a fine, loose gold chain around his neck.
Personality: While Run is the head hauncho, Ram is the willing muscle. Although not stupid, he is a more placid fellow and would much rather play the role of the grunt than the leader. Whether this is truly less intelligent is debatable, however, as Ram almost always escapes the disapproving stare of his owner. “Run, don’t make your brother break things.” “Run, don’t trick Ram into scaring people.” “Run, don’t let Ram do that!” Hm. Perhaps he was the smarter of the two.
Nevertheless, Ram is still willing to do whatever his sibling comes up with, and does so with a cheerful chirp.
Like his brother, Ram also has an earth-bound quirk. But while Run’s dashing to and fro is harmless, Ram was not named for nothing. Under the direction of his ‘smarter’ clutchmate he will charge towards just about anything, giving it a rough shove with either his head or his front paws, sending it flying over the edge of the table before soaring after it, taking refuge where no one can see him. Half of the time he gets away with it scottfree, with no one but Flaet to know what he’d done. The other half he’s merely laughed at, while his sibling is chastised.
Other: Ram likes herdbeasts. Ram likes herdbeasts a lot. Ram really likes it when herdbeasts stampede. Ram likes to poof in front of them and scream. Ram also likes to sit back at a safe distance and cheer them on while the humans panic and try to stop them. Yep.
History: The only child of a cook—a damn good one at that, as she’d say—and a handsome man who represents and sells the wares of the Minecraft Hall, Flaet was actually born to a small, seaside hold. He was raised there too, until his sixth birthday, when his mother severely burned her right hand while trying to save a roasting packtail a clumsy worker had sent flying into the fire. His mother was always preaching about wasting good fish, and no one questioned her ambition to keep up to her word after that. Unfortunately, she was out of commission, and would be for several months—if not years—according to the resident healer.
Flaet’s father—from whom he got his cheerful personality—took the incident as an excuse to take his wife and son away from the sea and onto the road, whisking them away in a herdbeast-drawn wagon full of everything from hatchets and knives to exquisitely-crafted jewelry and gleaming gems. They went from Gather to Gather, selling the wares and—more in Flaet’s case than his parents’s—feasting on mounds of bubbly pies and sweet fruits. When Flaet was ten he began to show an incredible agility, watching the occasional performers and acrobats that popped up in Gathers and mimicking them to the amusement of his parents. He had mastered many of the basic flips and moves at twelve—and his mother breathed a sigh of relief at that—but became more and more obsessed with the smooth movements the performers exhibited, and began to approach the dancers and acrobats themselves, asking to learn.
Perhaps only because they were intrigued that a child would follow them around and beg to learn, many performers obliged, only to be amazed themselves at how quickly the boy picked up on their techniques. One in particular—a dancer from the south—took interest in the boy’s talent and approached his parents, asking to take him on as an apprentice. To the thrill of Flaet, they agreed, on the grounds that they would meet back at the Gather they had met the dancer in once a Turn.
So Flaet and his teacher—an even darker-skinned fellow who, as Flaet described, was taller than a dragon on his hind legs—began to travel together. Flaet learned quickly and well, donning the gear of a dancer with enthusiasm, and as the years passed, with grace and beauty.
He grew to be a hair shorter than his father, with long hair and smooth motions that Kaitsunn—his teacher—bragged about. He also grew to inherit his mothers beauty, although he often pouted about how he looked more like a girl than a boy, only to be chastised about how he kept his hair long and wore what looked like a skirt most of his days by his friends. All in all, it was happy times.
When the boy turned sixteen, Kaitsunn—who had been getting on in years when he first met Flaet when the boy was thirteen—announced that he would be retiring, clapping the teen on the back with a broad smile before commenting on how dancing was a young man’s game, and at fifty three he was no longer a young man. He encouraged Flaet to continue learning, however, and introduced him to a broad-shouldered dancer—who was known for making a sound like thunder when he flipped, slamming his feet into the floorboards with more force than necessary—who would continue to teach him should Flaet accept.
Of course, he did, and as a parting gift Kaitsunn—winking like the sly old man he was—pressed a large, sand-filled pot into his arms. The sneaky geezer had found a nest of fire lizards on the beach, and had given half the clutch to his apprentice before disappearing off to his family. Flaet shared the clutch with his parents and teacher-to-be, only accepting two of the twelve eggs.
His mother impressed the tiny queen and two blues. His father a bronze and a trio of greens, one of which had taken exclusive rights to his neck and head at all times; a fact Flaet makes sure to point out at every meet. His teacher also impressed a bronze, as well as a blue, and gave what turned out to be a brown to his brother. Flaet himself impressed a pair of identical browns he named Run and Ram.
The two are literally impossible to tell apart by looking, the only difference between the two being their namesakes—Run likes to skitter on tabletops and Ram has a horrible habit of knocking empty plates to the floor. Flaet’s father—after many mishaps with ‘which one is which’—gave his son a pair of delicate, gold and silver chains to use as collars for easy identification. Of course, it was more for other people’s sakes—the chattering thoughts of the lizards were unmistakable to Flaet.
Flaet is now approaching his eighteenth turn, and is proud to say he’s surpassed his father in height. He sees his parents more frequently these days—as “Thunderfoot” Xordn likes to travel far more than Kaitsunn, although he seems oddly fond of the holds closest to Dalibor Weyr, making certain to be at most of their Gathers—and has become a better dancer than ever.
Dragon Preference: Flaet himself would be happy with anything, or nothing. He is indeed a happy-go-lucky fellow, and would find the cheer in everything. However, his creator would like to mention that something a bit..less full of rainbows would be well suited to Flaet, as excessive cheerfulness can border on annoying.
Something which he can be wily with, but knows when to quit would be nice..and a dragon as secretly perverted as he is would be fun as well. But anything that can carry a beat and would be willing to dance with him--as seperating Dance from Flaet would be like Dragon from Rider--would make him the happiest fellow you've ever seen.
Gender:Male
Age: 17
Sexuality: Claims to be bisexual, is closer to homosexual.
Location: Holdless -- Travels from Gather to Gather with his teacher and a few other dancers.
Rank: Apprentice Dancer; Future Dragon Candidate
Personality: Flaet is—for lack of a better term—a fleeting fellow. Although he isn’t absent minded he seems to be, moving this way and that without a hint nor warning. Impulsive and energetic the teen can continue running or—as he prefers—dancing for hours on end, and never seems to be completely wiped out.
He’s a generous and cheerful guy who is almost always smiling, and seems to find the cheer in anything. The downside of this endless cheer is his inability to take anything incredibly seriously, approaching anything and everything as a game.
Although Flaet is fairly intelligent he can come off as clueless, going about his day with a blank smile until something of great interest strikes him, in which case good luck with keeping him back. He tends to be immature and has childlike ambitions, always looking high, only to say with a laugh ‘Of course that’ll never happen, but still!’.
He is a loyal individual, but can take some getting used to. Don’t let first impressions fool you, Flaet is a many-sided individual who takes pride in thrilling and shocking people at every turn.
Appearance: Flaet, in all senses of the word, is a very well-built lad. Of southern descent he has a deep skin-tone, a shade-lighter than bronze. His hair is a silky black, and reaches just about to mid-back, although it is kept constantly up in a ponytail wrapped in white, black, or blue fabric.
His eyes are a deep brown color, but depending on the season seem to lighten or darken in shade; for example, in the winter they are nearly black while they almost hit hazel during the summer.
Flaet is known for his good proportions and lean form, as well as for the muscle expected of a boy born by the sea. Unlike his kin, however, who have the thick brawn necessary for fishing, Flaet has always had a slimmer build and has been exceptionally flexible and agile from the start. His feet are somewhat small, and have hard soles—he is quite fond of shirking his shoes and hiding them so as to avoid wearing them until a new pair is made. Fact of the matter is, there’s a growing pile of shoes—everything from slippers to boots—hidden under a loose floorboard in one of the storerooms. Perhaps one day someone will stumble upon them...
Family:
Father: Jokaet
Mother: Fraesi
Pets:
Name: Run
Type: Fire Lizard
Color: Brown
Age: 1(almost two)
Appearance: A very dark brown creature who has unusually long limbs. He is well balanced despite his odd proportions, and has a lighter shade of brown—a hazel to the mahogany of his usual coat—around his eyes, under his chin, behind each leg, and on his belly and tail, although not under his neck.
Run, unlike Ram, has a fine, loose silver chain around his neck.
Personality: Run is the unmistakable leader of the two fire lizards. He is far more cunning than his sibling, although only prolonged exposure to both of them can show off this difference. Run usually dictates the pair’s dastardly deeds, and leads his sibling well. He is strangely attached to walking—or running—along table tops and pretty much any other flat, sturdy surface. He loves the sound of music, steady beats, and breaking plates.
Other: Run, for some unknown reason, absolutely hates dogs. Even stranger, he has an unusual love of runnerbeasts. He’s especially fond of hanging from their ears, although this is usually met with bellows and rearing and chaos.
Name: Ram
Type: Fire Lizard
Color: Brawn
Age: 1 (almost two)
Appearance: A very dark brown creature who has unusually long limbs. He is well balanced despite his odd proportions, and has a lighter shade of brown—a hazel to the mahogany of his usual coat—around his eyes, under his chin, behind each leg, and on his belly and tail, although not under his neck.
Ram, unlike Run, has a fine, loose gold chain around his neck.
Personality: While Run is the head hauncho, Ram is the willing muscle. Although not stupid, he is a more placid fellow and would much rather play the role of the grunt than the leader. Whether this is truly less intelligent is debatable, however, as Ram almost always escapes the disapproving stare of his owner. “Run, don’t make your brother break things.” “Run, don’t trick Ram into scaring people.” “Run, don’t let Ram do that!” Hm. Perhaps he was the smarter of the two.
Nevertheless, Ram is still willing to do whatever his sibling comes up with, and does so with a cheerful chirp.
Like his brother, Ram also has an earth-bound quirk. But while Run’s dashing to and fro is harmless, Ram was not named for nothing. Under the direction of his ‘smarter’ clutchmate he will charge towards just about anything, giving it a rough shove with either his head or his front paws, sending it flying over the edge of the table before soaring after it, taking refuge where no one can see him. Half of the time he gets away with it scottfree, with no one but Flaet to know what he’d done. The other half he’s merely laughed at, while his sibling is chastised.
Other: Ram likes herdbeasts. Ram likes herdbeasts a lot. Ram really likes it when herdbeasts stampede. Ram likes to poof in front of them and scream. Ram also likes to sit back at a safe distance and cheer them on while the humans panic and try to stop them. Yep.
History: The only child of a cook—a damn good one at that, as she’d say—and a handsome man who represents and sells the wares of the Minecraft Hall, Flaet was actually born to a small, seaside hold. He was raised there too, until his sixth birthday, when his mother severely burned her right hand while trying to save a roasting packtail a clumsy worker had sent flying into the fire. His mother was always preaching about wasting good fish, and no one questioned her ambition to keep up to her word after that. Unfortunately, she was out of commission, and would be for several months—if not years—according to the resident healer.
Flaet’s father—from whom he got his cheerful personality—took the incident as an excuse to take his wife and son away from the sea and onto the road, whisking them away in a herdbeast-drawn wagon full of everything from hatchets and knives to exquisitely-crafted jewelry and gleaming gems. They went from Gather to Gather, selling the wares and—more in Flaet’s case than his parents’s—feasting on mounds of bubbly pies and sweet fruits. When Flaet was ten he began to show an incredible agility, watching the occasional performers and acrobats that popped up in Gathers and mimicking them to the amusement of his parents. He had mastered many of the basic flips and moves at twelve—and his mother breathed a sigh of relief at that—but became more and more obsessed with the smooth movements the performers exhibited, and began to approach the dancers and acrobats themselves, asking to learn.
Perhaps only because they were intrigued that a child would follow them around and beg to learn, many performers obliged, only to be amazed themselves at how quickly the boy picked up on their techniques. One in particular—a dancer from the south—took interest in the boy’s talent and approached his parents, asking to take him on as an apprentice. To the thrill of Flaet, they agreed, on the grounds that they would meet back at the Gather they had met the dancer in once a Turn.
So Flaet and his teacher—an even darker-skinned fellow who, as Flaet described, was taller than a dragon on his hind legs—began to travel together. Flaet learned quickly and well, donning the gear of a dancer with enthusiasm, and as the years passed, with grace and beauty.
He grew to be a hair shorter than his father, with long hair and smooth motions that Kaitsunn—his teacher—bragged about. He also grew to inherit his mothers beauty, although he often pouted about how he looked more like a girl than a boy, only to be chastised about how he kept his hair long and wore what looked like a skirt most of his days by his friends. All in all, it was happy times.
When the boy turned sixteen, Kaitsunn—who had been getting on in years when he first met Flaet when the boy was thirteen—announced that he would be retiring, clapping the teen on the back with a broad smile before commenting on how dancing was a young man’s game, and at fifty three he was no longer a young man. He encouraged Flaet to continue learning, however, and introduced him to a broad-shouldered dancer—who was known for making a sound like thunder when he flipped, slamming his feet into the floorboards with more force than necessary—who would continue to teach him should Flaet accept.
Of course, he did, and as a parting gift Kaitsunn—winking like the sly old man he was—pressed a large, sand-filled pot into his arms. The sneaky geezer had found a nest of fire lizards on the beach, and had given half the clutch to his apprentice before disappearing off to his family. Flaet shared the clutch with his parents and teacher-to-be, only accepting two of the twelve eggs.
His mother impressed the tiny queen and two blues. His father a bronze and a trio of greens, one of which had taken exclusive rights to his neck and head at all times; a fact Flaet makes sure to point out at every meet. His teacher also impressed a bronze, as well as a blue, and gave what turned out to be a brown to his brother. Flaet himself impressed a pair of identical browns he named Run and Ram.
The two are literally impossible to tell apart by looking, the only difference between the two being their namesakes—Run likes to skitter on tabletops and Ram has a horrible habit of knocking empty plates to the floor. Flaet’s father—after many mishaps with ‘which one is which’—gave his son a pair of delicate, gold and silver chains to use as collars for easy identification. Of course, it was more for other people’s sakes—the chattering thoughts of the lizards were unmistakable to Flaet.
Flaet is now approaching his eighteenth turn, and is proud to say he’s surpassed his father in height. He sees his parents more frequently these days—as “Thunderfoot” Xordn likes to travel far more than Kaitsunn, although he seems oddly fond of the holds closest to Dalibor Weyr, making certain to be at most of their Gathers—and has become a better dancer than ever.
Dragon Preference: Flaet himself would be happy with anything, or nothing. He is indeed a happy-go-lucky fellow, and would find the cheer in everything. However, his creator would like to mention that something a bit..less full of rainbows would be well suited to Flaet, as excessive cheerfulness can border on annoying.
Something which he can be wily with, but knows when to quit would be nice..and a dragon as secretly perverted as he is would be fun as well. But anything that can carry a beat and would be willing to dance with him--as seperating Dance from Flaet would be like Dragon from Rider--would make him the happiest fellow you've ever seen.
