Candidates - New Thread

[Spirithawk]

New Thread for Candidates for Kaith's upcoming clutch

[catilena1890]

Name: Daelan * D’lan*

Age: 14

Gender: Male

Sexuality: Heterosexual

Rank: Weyr Candidate

Appearance: Daelan is a very small boy, at a little over four feet, he is barely taller then a 3-month old hatchlings head and very skinny. His hair is a light-brown mess, locks sticking up in random areas, and it refuses to be tamed. His eyes are a brown the same shade as chocolate and his angular face would remind one of a dragon if they looked at him from a distance.

His skin is a dark cream, like the hide of a light brown dragon. His small, svelt frame is covered by a dark green tunic and a pair a wheaty work pants with black leather boots covering his small feet.

Personality: A very quiet person, Daelan is not what one would call social. He avoids talking to others for fear of ridicule or rejection, as he has been teased countless times due to his small size. If he were to open up to someone, that lucky person would be given a very good and loyal friend, always the first to volunteer to aid them in their distress.

He has a tendancy to be clingy to his few friends since he feels so uncared for that anyone who shows even a small bit of compassion to him holds his respect. Daelan`s silence has given him the ability to gather information swiftly and quickly, making him a valuable ally in times of uncertanty and secrecy. His avoiding personality combined with his short stature also makes him an excellent espionage as he is able to get in and out of places with little difficulty.

History: Hailing from Southern Hold Daelan lived a pretty average lifestyle, where he served as a fisher. He would go out to sea a couple times a week to bring in much fish to supply both Southern Hold and Southern Weyr. He had been skipped on Search many times due to his short stature, and the Southern riders looked down on him and refused to even consider allowing him in their ranks*, but that did not stop him from seeing the dragons and their riders, and he longed to become one. Because of this, he prepared for his journey to Dark Moon, the weyr with the strange dragons and open hearts.

His bag all packed and ready to go, Daelan, threw his belongings over his shoulder and went to meet with his parents by the entryway of the Hold. Dropping his stuff he quickly joining his parents.

"I`ll be going now, Mother, Father." He said as his mother tried not to cry.

"Oh honey, are you sure you want to do this? The Weyr will take you on the next Search, I know it..." She whimpered. Daelan shrunk and hugged his very small mother tightly while his father chuckled at the drama unfolding.

"The boy's too short woman, those stuck-up pansies will never take him even if he were the last candidate on Pern! He'll do fine, ye gotta stop babyin him and let him grow into a real man, even if he stopped growin, har!" His middle-aged father said, laughing heartily at his own joke. Daelan smiled and let go of his mother, grabbing his pack and slinging it back over his shoulder.

"Don't worry about me mother, please. I`ll be fine. The next time you see me will be on the back of a bronze, leading a whole wing of dragons!" He said excitedly. His father stopped chuckling and stood up straight, looking sternly at his shorter son.

"I know you'll make us proud boy, you was the best fisher we had and the hardest worker too. Them riders at the Moon Weyr will see that, even though Southern didn't. Good luck son." He said, holding out his hand. Daelan smiled and shook his father's hand, waving goodbye and heading off for his new weyr.

When he had set off, the journey was pretty normal, except for the horrible hurricane that had occurred along the way. He had managed to escape it by hiding out in a cave, but after it left he hurried to his new home, Dark Moon, fearing they may have been hurt from the storm, or worse. Now, he rushes to their aid with sorrow for them in his heart.

Pets: N/A

Dragon/Wher: N/A

Dragon/Wher Appearance: N/A

Dragon/Wher Personality: N/A

[catilena1890]

Name: Catilena

Age: Twenty Turns

Gender: Female

Rank: Candidate/cook

Appearance: About as tall as her sister, Catilena is a pretty normal sized 5'5" young lady. She tries to keep her appearence in check. Though she is not anywhere near as skinny as her sister, she is not overweight or too large. She is more filled out with a small amount of belly projecting outward. Her hair is straight, holding a beautiful light, almost blonde, brown colour and is slightly shorter than Relina's, barely reaching her shoulders. Her face is truly feminine. She has a few freckles near her thin nose. Catilena's large eyes hold the same sapphire-blue color as her sister's. Her thin, yet supple lips have a beautiful rosy-red colour. Her skin is as pale as Relina's, with the exception of a dark, claw-shaped scar on the back of her left shoulder where she was branded by an angry drunken drudge. Despite all of these similarities and mild differences, what truly separates the two sisters is their taste in clothing. While Relina favors dresses, Catilena prefers a slightly baggy tan blouse with a dark pink, almost red vest. A black belt holds up loose fitting tan trousers. A pair of black boots completes the strange, yet curiously feminine outfit.

Personality: Unlike her sister, Catilena is a very friendly, outgoing, slighty tomboyish young woman with a nasty temper. While it is hard to make her angry, the power of her anger can rival that of a Queen defending her clutch. Fortunately , she is relatively easy to calm, though she will hold a grudge if the person or event that made her angry has committed an offense in need of one. You would never know just how sad she is because of her tendancy to be a chatterbox when she is in a sort of a good mood, talking up a storm whenever she gets the chance to do so. She has a very good sense of humor, giggling at the most random things and moments, you would think her insane. In truth, she uses her sense of humor and her talkativeness to hide her true feelings, for she is a very guilt-ridden person, which is unusual for a girl who was essentially spoiled. Despite having the love of her father, she feels deep guilt for allowing Relina to suffer as she did under their father's cruelty. She is protective of her sister and any who are close to her because of her guilt for this. As a result of her upbringing, with all the private lessons and trips to the weyrs, Catilena does not truly have any friends but she is caring toward others and would like to make friends with other people any chance she gets nonetheless. She is also quite the chatterbox, talking up a storm whenever she is in a good mood. She has a wonderful

History: Catilena was born in the same lesser hall of High Reaches as her sister, Relina. Unlike Relina, however, Catilena was much loved by her parents and everyone around her. When her mother died, Catilena never knew about her sister, for her father loathed the girl and felt Catilena would not benefit from knowing her. Catilena's father was very fond of the dragons and so he sent her to a weyr everytime there was a clutch containing a queen so he could give his daughter a life he never had, for he only wanted what was best for her. Alas, she had returned everytime, constantly rejected by the queens. So to give her something to do until the next queen egg came, he had her learn to cook and help in the kitchens. As a result, she unintentionally met Relina, for she only saw her when her lessons took her to the fields to gather ingrediants for her cooking, and even then, she only assumed Relina was but a drudge. One day, she was in the fields gathering ingredients, and she got a chance, by accident, to somewhat formally meet the girl.

Catilena happliy gathered the vegetables and placed them in her basket when she heard a cry. She sat up and saw her father strike the odd girl she had occasionally seen while she was out here in the fields. She inclined her head in their direction when her father began yelling.

"You worthless girl, how dare you steal food!" He snarled at her.

"How do you know it was me?" The girl shot back.

"Because we saw you sneaking about in the kitchens! We give you enough to eat!"

"Yeah, if I weren't worked to the bone father!" When she said this Catilena gasped and dropped her basket. She had a sister, and her father never told her. She started walking toward them.

"How dare you call me that! When you speak to me, you address me as "Sir"!" He shouted and he raised his hand again. Catilena started running and she just barely made it in time, running in front of her sister just as he brought his hand down. The force of the blow knocked Catilena down and she turned around and glared at her father, who looked at her, horrified at what he had done.

"I have a sister and you never told me? How could you!

---

Admin's Note:[/hr]" She spat at him, getting up and shielding the girl in case he wanted to strike again. The man looked at the two girls and his face went stoic.

"I only did it because she would be of no use to you. Do as you see fit." He said, and he walked away. Catilena turned to the girl that was her sister and held her hand out to her.

"My name is Catilena, What is yours, sister?" She asked, smiling. The frightened girl regained her composure and stood up on her own, rejecting the hand of her sister.

"Relina." Was all she said as she walked away. Catilena stared longingly after her, wanting to help her.[/i]

After that, Catilena would make extra portions of food and bring it to Relina's room when no one was looking, though Relina did not know this. During the course of that week, Catilena had minimal contact with her father. One week later, Relina and their father and a select group of the staff took the trip to the south that would ultimately shape Relina's destiny, and when Catilena's father returned without her sister, she grew angry with him yet again.

"What do you mean, "she's gone"

---

Admin's Note:[/hr] Where is she?" Catilena growled. Her father looked at her as if he thought her words were not important.

"We couldn't find her, so we figured she got lost and died somewhere, we had a schedule to keep." He responded. That was the last straw, Catilena had enough. She ran to her room and grabbed the sack she had been packing. She saw her father and said nothing as she walked past him. He was speechless as she continued walking and when she got to the door that would lead her out of High Reaches, she turned and looked at him, glaring.

"I can't take this anymore. If you want to bully everyone around then you can do it without me around." She informed him.

"But where are you going?" He asked her meekly.

"I am going to become a Rider. I have heard of a weyr that hatches strange dragons, and that the dragons choose anyone they wish, regardless of gender. I do not care if I get a queen, or a strange dragon, or a green or blue, I am going to become a rider, and then I will find my sister. Until I am joined with a dragon, I will use the skills you have taught me to aid that weyr. Goodbye father." She said, and she walked out before her father could say anything else. As she made it to the edge of the hold, she saw dragons flying, and a smiled adorned her face. 'Dark Moon Weyr, I am coming.' She thought as she continued her journey.[/i]

And so began Catilena's adventure. She made her journey to Dark Moon in the same quest as her sister, though neither of them knew it, to become a rider.

[Minajerie]

Name: Blissy

Age: 19

Gender: Female

Sexuality: Heterosexual

Rank: Candidate

Appearance: At 5'5" she's just a tad bit below average height. Her curves are super generous. In fact, her large bosom tends to get in her way quite often. And her 'child bearing hips' drove the men wild. She has long, orangey red hair. It tends to be mostly straight, but sometimes gets a bit of a wave in it. She has kept it's length to about the small of her back.

She has a very gentle face, but don't let it fool you, it can give you a glare of steel if you cross her. Speaking of steel, her eyes are similar. Like her brother's they are grey, but unlike his, her colors are introverted. The dark, steely color for the irises and a light, silvery color spider webbing around the edges. Her eyes aren't overly large for her face, but her eyelashes are long to give extra oomph to her flirty ways.

She has fairly long limbs and long fingers. Her left shoulder has some jagged scars from when her older brother was ruff housing with her and accidentally pushed her into a thorny bush. They continue down part of her back. She has creamy skin, and like her brother, does not tan very well.

Personality: She may put up a tough front, but underneath that, she has a soft heart of gold. She tends to mother others and is very caring towards them. However, she is also VERY stubborn. She doesn't like to hear anything to the contrary once she made up her mind. However, if the person is persistent she may eventually crack and change... a bit.

She isn't one to make quick judgments. She thinks that first impressions are superficial and that one can always be misleaded. She tends to go with her gut reactions towards people. She has no qualms about chastising people, especially children. Children still like her though, they seem to always find her, no matter where she goes- whether or not she knows them.

As far as men go... she's had plenty of beaus. Perhaps the fact that she is so mothering brought them in troves. She dallied with a few, but never stayed tied down for long. She just hasn't found that, 'special someone'. However, she likes to tease a bit, and her humor can sometimes get a tad lecherous when in certain company.

History: She was raised as the baby of four children. How the youngest got to be a mothering soul is still a mystery to her family, but she has taken it into stride. She has taken care of the children of the hold since she herself was a child, and finds that their innocence does well in her presence.

When not with the children, Blissy enjoyed puttering around the garden. She is fairly decent with herbs and has been lightly studying with the hold healer. She also enjoys some rare quiet time in the hold library, reading about all manner of things.

Her father has been trying to find her a man to settle down with for many a turn. She has good cooking skills, good with children, and knowledge of herbal lore... what more could any man want in a wife? Ample curves? Well, she has those too. But she is stuborn and smart and perhaps is to picky. So the perfect housewife has yet to find the perfect husband.

She was all too happy to hear that her big brother- whom she loved to converse with and attack with hugs on his few visits- had become the weyrleader of a southern weyr. She was a little sad at the same time though. Her big brother... whom she saw so rarely, was now further away and had more responsibilities. She would hardly ever get to see him now! Well, there was on way. And she could do it too! She had been searched when she was younger, but when she had failed to impress, her parents had convinced her to come back home. Now, all these turns later, she was still a good match for a dragon, and still in the age range to be a good rider! She could be with her brother! Now she just needed to get there somehow....

Pets: ~none~

[Minajerie]

Name: Andilay

Age: 19

Gender: Female

Sexuality: Hetero

Rank: Sword For Hire/Candidate For DM

Appearance: She has long, chocolate brown hair that reaches to the small of her back. She tends to braid it and throw it down the back of her shirt, a habit from being a swordswoman. She has a handsome face, not beautiful, but not one you will easily forget either. She has lush lips that have a slight pout to them and dark green eyes with flecks of gold in them.
She is 6'1" with her height mostly in her legs. She has a conservative curve to her body, with her bosom not being overly generous. She keeps fit with her daily sword practice and tends to have a farmers tan from doing so. She has a scar on her right arm that travels from the front of her shoulder to her elbow and another diagonally cut across her abdomen just above her belly button.
She prefers to wear close fitting leathers in either black, red, or red brown. She keeps them tidy and well oiled for pliancy.


Personality: She keeps to herself, but that doesn't mean she is a recluse. Believe it or not, she is kind of shy around new people. If she notices something in common between herself and another she will latch onto it as a way to introduce herself and hopefully start a friendship. Once she has gotten to know the people around her she opens up.
Surprise! That once quiet woman is now a smiling, sarcastic, friendly person. She may even go out of her way to embarrass you in front of that special someone! "Hey!! This girl right her says your hotter than boiling klah! Maybe you should do somethin about that, huh?" She'll do it cause you may be too shy, or just because that look of pure embarrassment- because it's true- is just so amusing she can't help herself.
She's not rude though, she always tries to be polite and do the right thing, or as close to the right thing as she can come. Her father raised her right, and this daddy's girl will always remember it. However, sometimes she can be brutally blunt. It's one of her many quirks.

History: Andilay's father was an ex-rider. He had lost his dragon in the games, but still needing to support his family- he became a mercenary. Since he was the type to believe that his little girl should always be able to protect herself, he taught her how to use a sword.
It was her life and livelihood now.
Her father died when she was 13, despite the best efforts of her healer mother. Two turns later her mother found a new man. Not really getting along with him, and not being able to live in that atmosphere, she left.
She entered her father's secondary profession and became a mercenary, mostly for caravans and traders. Every now and then she protected a single person, but people with that kind of marks were few, and fewer still that would hire someone so young.
She always traveled light, her home being on her back, but she always had a small bag for a knife and piece of wood. Andilay was artistic. When she had time she would whittle or paint something, then sell it later for some extra marks. She was quite good, and her painted carvings always gave her a good sell.
In fact that is how she ended up meeting her partner, Rayn. The younger swordswoman has a soft spot for trinkets, though she was might handy with a sword. They made good partners and have been together for two and a half turns.
On the eave of her 19th turn-day, they were leaving a favored tavern of some dragon riders and ran into their search dragons, who quickly sniffed them out as possible candidates. When asked if the two women would like to become dragonriders they both smiled and said it would be their next great adventure.

Dragon: N/A

Dragon Appearance: N/A

Dragon Personality: N/A

[Kandarra]

Name: Jerodyn

Age: 18

Gender: Female

Sexuality: Bisexual

Rank: Apprentice Weaver, Candidate

Appearance: Jerodyn has straight, light brown hair, which is long and to her shoulder blades, and always down. Her eyes are a dull blue and are set wide, with a slight uptilt, below bushy eyebrows. Her nose is small and flattish, and her lips thin and pale. Her face is round and slightly chubby, but when her face is expressionless, it can actually be quite intimidating.

She has broad shoulders and is big-boned, but as she doesn't weigh all that much, it makes her look bony. She stands at about 5'5''. She is not fond of skirts or dresses, or anything flashy, so she usually wears pants and a plain tunic, but on warm days she will break down and wear one of her two skirts that reach to just above her ankles.

Personality: Jerodyn (Jeri to her close friends, of which she has few) is an only child, so she is somewhat socially awkward and dislikes spending too much time with large groups of people. Despite having no siblings, she was not doted on much because her parents were both busy with their Weavercraft. She has become self-reliant and considerate of others' needs as a result. She is a bit of a control-freak in that she gets anxious when someone isn't in charge, so if no one steps up, she will. She is an observer, watching people and how they interact, and her ability to fade into the background as if she isn't really there often helps her learn choice bits of rumor before anyone else. Not that she would ever admit to liking gossip, of course, but her pleasure is in the knowing, not the telling, so she keeps almost every secret she collects.

She enjoys spending time by herself sketching out portraits on old discarded hides she scrounges, but is generally dissatisfied with her skills or the quality of the hide. She has a rather elevated opinion of herself in most other respects, though, and does not take well to being insulted. It irks her immensely that her parents gave her what she considers to be a boy's name.

History: Jerodyn hails from a fair-sized hold on Southern. She spent her childhood days tentatively exploring the innards of the hold with other children, but she didn't venture far outside until she was older. This garnered much teasing from her friends for her lack of adventurousness and she began to spend less time with them as a result, becoming somewhat of a loner. Ironically, when she got into her early 'teens, she started to really enjoy exploring the land around the hold. Her parents both work as Weavers and spend most of their time attending to their duties, so they rarely are all together at the same time, though there is a mutual love and respect between them all.

At some point Jerodyn decided that a craft is a craft, and to avoid being married off to anyone (here parents were unlikely to do this, but she figured to err on the side of caution), she asked to be apprenticed there. She has been working towards journeyman status for three Turns, spending little time on anything else, solidifying her loner status. As her whole life has been spent in the hold and its surrounding areas, she came down with an acute case of culture shock when she was Searched and brought to Dark Moon.

Pets: none

Dragon/Wher: N/A

Dragon/Wher Appearance: N/A

Dragon/Wher Personality: N/A

[seneth]

Name: Klinorfin “Fin”

Age: 11 turns (nearly 12 turns)

Gender: Male

Sexuality: Heterosexual

Rank: Son the Weyrharper Klivin (Prospective Candidate)

Appearance:
The most distinguishing feature of the boy is his height, (or the lack of), as he stands at a short 4’5”. But this, like his head of curly black hair, conceals a very sharp mind. Something that was concealed deeper behind a rounded face, large sharp green eyes and a dusting of freckles high on his cheeks, along with his broadest of grins, could easily pass him off as a boy at least 2 turns younger. For like his father he always had a ready smile or grin.

Unlike most boys, Klinorfin liked most, if not all, his features, (even his height!). But not because he was vain, but because his features linked him to his mother, his father and the rest of his family. He had his father's black hair, curved eyes and ready smile; and his mother's curls (usually kept short), bright green eyes, and a small nose that curved slightly at the tip. Then there was his height, a trait seen in the male line of his father's side. He also had the freckles that attached him to his mother's mother, and his two aunts. This and all the other connections Klinorfir cherished, for in some way he felt it brought him closer to his mother.

When it comes to hides and clothing, he prefers things to be practical and casual, something he can throw on and wear whilst tumbling or playing with other boys, as well as wear whilst performing or at meal times. Though probably not in the same day...his father wouldn't like that. But something they did agree upon, was their preference towards blue clothing. Something young Fin hated having to change out of when travelling. Especially if the change meant many layers of dull browns worn by travelling holders, and the holdless.

Other than his voice and his blue clothing, one thing that marked him out as having a connection with harpers was the drumsticks he tucked into his belt, a habit he’d kept since he was young.

Personality:
Upon first impression he’s a quiet, reserved, and shy lad. So much so that most fail to see the Harper genes in him. But as time passes, people begin to see the true Klinorfin with his easy smiles, a readiness to help and play, and a surprisingly quick ear. As well as his fathers habit of exploring and hearing things he shouldn’t hear. But despite being caught on the occasion, he would never abuse the knowledge or information he’d heard. At the most he’ll tell his father who usually knew what to do with such things.

One thing the lad loves is his family and the connection with all his friends. This trait and habit is something that’s stayed with him for as long as he could remember as he’d always tried to keep in contact with those he knows, or visit them if his father was stationed near where they lived. If anything, he could persuade his father to take him to the gathers, for he knew his father loved them as much as he did. He only wished that one day he could own a fire lizard…maybe when after walking the tables? But that wouldn’t happen until 4 turns after he was allowed to be apprenticed. If only they were stationed on the Southern Continent…

---

Admin's Note:[/hr][/I]

This was another well known trait of the boy, he’s a good thinker. Contemplation and problem solving was almost second nature to him, as he works his way around his father and any problems any other kids had. But again the boy wouldn’t abuse it too much, for he knew the adults always looked down on him (literally), because of his height. More often than not they thought him too young to understand things they talked about, which often came to his…well his father's advantage.

Despite his Harper-ish traits, there are some odd qualities in him that sets him apart. This include his inability to lie. A trait that gets him into trouble just as much as it would have, if he’d lied. He knows his father is trying to help him…lie, but so far its been almost impossible. It seems like its burned into him. Most people said it was a good thing to have…but not everybody wants to hear what was on his mind, or a truthful answer. This worried the lad as much as he accepted it was a part of him.

Other quirks of his personality includes an enjoyment of looking at records, he’s a willing helper wherever, but also a daydreamer (as his father liked to call it), a boy who likes his sleep, as much as his rule following and is very much a proud glutton despite his size.

History:
Mother: Melinor, 21, RIP.
Father: Klivin, 32, Harper Journeyman.
Melinor’s father: Mifin, 68, Master Fishman, Ista.
Melinor’s mother: Elianora, 61, fisherman’s wife with healers training, Ista.
Melinor’s siblings: Aunt Elin (24, Healer, Fort.), Aunt Minora (28, Harper, Fort.), and Uncle Milonfin (Fisherman, RIP).
Klivin’s father: Klisar, 65, Master Drummer, Fort Harper Hall.
Klivin’s mother: Mierin, 63, Master Harpist, RIP.
Klivin’s siblings: Rin, 27, Harper Journeyman, near Benden.

Kli-nor-fin, Kli after his father (Klivin), nor after his mother (Melinor) and fin, a tradition on his mothers side that he was proud to bare. Its also the nickname, most his family and friends call him by. He was usually only Klinorfin when being introduced formally, or when he was in trouble.

From the tender soothing lullaby’s, to the soft strum of a practicing guitar, the rumble of the drumtower drums, to the harmonising chorus of the duty songs, music was the fabric of his life, the knot that’d bonded his parents, and the ever entrancing tunes that’d filled his childhood.

But despite his blood, and because of his shy and timid nature, his mother had initially feared her son tone-deaf. For despite his enjoyment of music, he showed no interest in instruments or any other signs shown by musically attuned toddlers. Something the young Melinor had tried to hide from Klivin, until finally as Fin neared his second turn, he took an obvious liking to the drums. Suspicious at first, Klivin hadn’t believed the tales that his son tried to mimic drumtower messages, until he finally caught the boy doing it himself. If anyone wanted to see a shocked Harper, that was the time to see it. For Klivin with eyes wide, and mouth half open, watched the boy roll his hands across the table in a crude but good attempt with his small face in a comical frown as he picked up a couple of the more complicated runs, before finally ending with a shy grin. To this day his mothers parents wished they could capture his fathers expression, and they often burst into laughter when they retold the story.

Either way, a few days later young Klinorfin had been presented with his own drum for him to play on. A task he took on willingly as he waited and listened out for more drum messages to mimic. Something his mother was delighted to oversee, whilst his father was away from that hold. It was one of these times that his mother fell ill, as she crawled into bed early one day. Confused young Fin had gone in search of one of his aunts, who in turn sought out the healer. In truth he didn’t remember that far back, and he knew it hurt his father to speak of it. What he liked to hope was that he remembered something of his mother…his own memories, not the stories told to him by his family.

It wasn’t long after he and his father returned to the Harper Hall, a time he remembered more so. As some of the hall helped teach the lad, the most prominent figure being Master Klisar, his father's father, who encouraged his learning of the drums. In the turns to come he could often be seen tapping his fingers in sequences he’d learnt. As his father encouraged their own “secret language” as they tapped and rolled short messages to themselves. These gradually grew more elaborate as Fin added his own sequences that only he and his father could understand.

Like his drumming it took a little work to coax out his clear, soothing treble, and the fact he had a deft hand when crafting as well as a good ear when it came to playing the guitar and the pipes. It wasn’t long after he developed a good ear for finding things out that he shouldn’t. Also that he had little patience for things like composing or writing, but when waiting for drum messages he had all the patience in the world. Something his father never understood, but something young Fin shared with his grandfather.


When he was old enough, he got to see more of Pern and the holds outside of the Harpers Hall, through his father's duties as a Journeyman. Through this he learned a lot of new sounds, sights and smells, as well as gaining new friends and new skills. But it took him a while to step far from his fathers sight, for the new experienced unnerved him slightly. But by the 2nd hold they were stationed at he was more confident and enjoyed it a lot more. Turns past as did several other assignments for his father, until finally at 11turns they were back at the Harper Hall. Over the last couple of turns Fin had made a point of proving to his father he was ready to be apprenticed. But he like others in the family said, “Make the most of it and wait until you are 12 turns”. He had to admit he was gutted to not be able to join the newest class of apprentices, but the Master Harper had promised he’d enjoy the next place they were going to be stationed.

So brimming with excitement young Fin eagerly awaited the announcement at dinner, as he rolled out all of his happiest rhythms (driving his father insane in the process) as he looked forward for their latest adventure!

Pets: None.

[seneth]

Name: Bicran

Age: 18

Gender: Male

Sexuality: Homosexual

Rank: Candidate (Beasthandler apprentice)

Appearance:
Bicran stands at a tall 6’1”, broad in the shoulders but slim at the waist. His naturally golden skin is free form any visible blemishes or scars, but due to his upbringing, he bares the calluses of well worked hands and feet. Other than that, he’s reasonably well kept, enjoying swims or baths often. But more so because of need, rather than a fascination to keep clean. As for clothing, he prefers earthy neutral tones of hides and makes of point of saving up for fashionable clothing for turn’s end. But whether formal or not, he always pairs his clothing with thick, sturdy, mid-calf high hide boots. Practicality over pretty, always.

The young man is long in the face, with softened features and kindly pale blue eyes. His brows and stubble are dull gold in colour, a slight contrast to his shock of bright blonde hair. Like the stubble on his chin, his hair is thin, straight and is usually kept in a short jagged array. Some days he considers growing it, but as of yet he’s not had the confidence for it to reach past his shoulders.

Personality:
Since he was a child Bicran had been simple minded in his ways always living in the present, with little thought towards the future. The only exception was the past. This he treasured as much as the beasts he cared for, but unlike some people, he had no room for regrets or anger for useless emotions lead to violence and beatings of the beasts they cared for, whilst fear and love lead to personal growth and bonding.

With him, the beasts always comes first, from the sweet, stocky cart pullers to the highly strung, well bred runners. Even the wherries, the wher’s, spit dogs and felines, each of them had their place. But no beast…creature, had a bigger place than dragons. These he’d love to watch at any chance possible. He even knew the time of day the sweeps would fly over from Igen Weyr. But unlike other boys, he didn’t wish to be a rider. Not when he had his duties and beasts to watch over, and his loyalty to his hold and family. On top of the gathers he loved, and the dream to find a flitt egg one day.

As a man he was sweet and gentle, despite his size. His peaceful nature quick to sooth worried or stubborn beasts. With courage enough for two men, he would always aim to protect, shield or save others. Even his fellow man. For despite their tricks and lies, he always put himself last, even to the point he’d ignore any taunts or teasing words, of “brute” or “dimglow”. Always the bullied, never the bully. He knew he wasn’t the brightest of men, but if someone was willing to teach he was quick to learn.

Towards his friends and those he knew he was trusting and open, quick to forgive and forget, but towards strangers and some holders, he could often seem distant and ‘brutish’ on the occasion. His reputation well known for striking, or arguing with those who mistreated their beasts. He has a dislike for wine, preferring only Klah or water.

History:
Mother: Cirania (38)
Father: Biton (41)
Aunts: Lina (32), Tilly (27), Meliana (35)
Uncle: C’krin (28), rider of Green Liath, Eastern Weyr (ex Igen Weyr). Liram (37).
Siblings: Cria and Ciri (twins, 15), Bitor (21), Mira (20),
Partner: None.

Bicran was one of many births during a cold and a particularly busy spring, in his uncle's beasthold where amongst the new births and orphans, he came into contact with runners at an early age. His mother often claimed he could ride before he could walk. Always preferring to help out with the beasts, than go off with the other children.

With his shock of bright blonde hair and pale blue eyes, he was a common sight amongst the beast stalls or runner lines in his sturdy ocher and brown hides, with the markings of Keroon beasthold and apprentice knots. The latter he gained when he was about 10 turns. But not because he was a genius, but because of his interest and dedication towards the beasts he cared for. This never settled well with his older siblings, but with the twins, they often teased that they’d get theirs at 9 turns if not younger.

At twelve turns, his uncle impressed green Liath at Igen Weyr. She was a sweet green who he’d often watch feed, as the now C’krin visited their family. He even got the chance to help scrub her beautiful dark green hide once. That was a day to remember. She even spoke to him, saying she’d tell the young Bicran if she and C’krin would be flying over the beasthold. It was then he started secretly fancying a firelizard, his own mini dragon and friend. Something to call his own.

A few long turns with exciting gathers and many births and deaths later, he at 16 turns found himself watching over a newborn runner and her dam. A sweet little thing she was, with her unusual markings, determined to show off her new legs to a willing audience. This delighted the young Bicran as he eagerly awaited to see if his pairing would sire a sturdy, endurance runner with the desired thick coat and broad hoofs to be able to withstand colder temperatures. If he succeeded, he’d be one step closer to gaining his journeyman knots.

But barely a sevenday later, his uncle C’krin chanced a visit with his partner. The blue rider was a nice man, with a ready grin and an infectious laugh. He even took time to take an interest in Bicran’s little runner, which helped him like the man even more. It was sometime then that the bright little search dragon took an interest in Bicran. Something he didn’t know anything about until their late evening meal.

The news came at a complete shock to the young apprentice, who regretted having to leave the runners and the other beasts behind. But with the reassurances of the twins and his mother, he knew his little runner was in good hands. As he along with his uncle and the blue rider travelled to Eastern Weyr, in the Southern Continent.

At first all he could remember was the heat, the dangers, the lovely fruits, and…the dragons. He must’ve seemed a real dimglow in those early days with eyes wide, glued to every dragon that passed. It wasn’t until he was given chores to work with their small number of runners or herdbeasts, that he finally got over the worst of his fascination in the dragons. This was also helped with his first partner, a green rider named G’mir and the first hatching. After he failed impress, G’mir was sweet and helped him see that he could stay and stand again at the next hatching.

Two hatchings later and several brief partnerships, from M’gin, to S’en, and then T’les over the span of 2 turns, he called it off with T’les. It was after the whole trouble with S’en, the so called thief and dragon murderer. The stupid man believed the arrogant bronze rider's lies, as did others in the Weyr. So after a few spectacular arguments, Bicran decided to leave.

Using the excuse that he was too old and wanted to return to his family's beast hold, he managed to convince one of S’en’s foster brothers to drop him off near Dark Moon Weyr. Well it wasn’t quite near, but it was close enough for him to borrow a runner on the last leg into the Weyr.

Pets:
Soot - A young, black and white canine runt, with short soft pelt, and a curled black tail. The young pup had belonged to the man he’d borrowed the runner from. Despite its small size the pup had gotten itself into a little trouble the day before, grazing his poor snout and breaking one of his forelegs. Bicran couldn’t really fault the man, for wanting to destroy the runt considering it was a bad break. Also there was no guarantee the pup would be able to walk properly again, let alone work or be sold.
But upon seeing the pup himself, its sad little eyes and pitiful but determined attempts to stand. Bicran decided it’d be a worthy project to nurse the pup, especially if the new Weyr wouldn’t let him stand. He was getting old now, too old to be a Candidate. So if the Weyr wouldn’t accept him, he could at least see if S’en had settled in before setting on the long journey back to Keroon. That was If, he couldn’t convince his old partner to take him.

[Kino]

Name:Naret

Age:Seventeen

Gender: Male

Sexuality: Heterosexual

Rank: Candidate (Former Journeyman Runner)

Appearance: Fairly tall (reaching to five feet, eleven inches) and lean, though not in the sense that the young man was scrawny. A life as a Runner helped tone his muscles, giving him a decent build. Naret’s hair is short and parted somewhat to the side, cut in a way that gave bangs on either side of his face room to hang neatly beside his eyes. The color was a soft brown, matching the chestnut color of his eyes. Like many Pernese, Naret's skin is a lightly tanned color.

He wears the proper knots of a runner on his shoulder. A loosely fitting cloth shirt in a deep forest green color adorns his top half, the sleeves ending in cloth cuffs just below his elbow with the material above somewhat loose. The bottom hem of his shirt is tucked into simple brown pants of a tough material, both articles of clothing held by a leather belt at the waist.

Over his green shirt is a leather vest, kept in its naturally brown color. There are four clasps along the front of the vest enabling it to be closed, though most of the time Naret chooses to wear it open. His pants are tucked into the top of his boots, which come about halfway up the calf of each leg. The boots are made of hide as well, dyed to be black in color, and each laced up the front.

Personality: Naret has a tendency to keep to himself for the most part, though he will socialize with those who talk to him, and has made some good friends among the other Runners. His quiet nature is due to him being able to converse with others easily, as the only way he can directly do so is to write on paper. Naret was born mute. Even though most people who grow up mute are that way due to being deaf, his hearing is actually quite sharp; he simply can't talk because his vocal chords never started working.

He enjoys the company of others, particularly those he knows, but Naret has never had trouble meeting new people. The Runner is kind by nature, as well as loyal, often times seeing to others' needs and troubles before his own. The youth does not see himself as ‘heroic’ to any degree, but rather as someone who will do what is right and what is needed according to the situation and his moral standards.

History: Naret was born into a family of Harpers, but it soon became apparent that this was not to be his life. It was noticed when he was very young that he was mute counting him out for any of the verbal parts of the craft. He did try playing instruments, and was actually quite good at playing the flute, but other than that all he was needed for was writing and copying everything. It got to be very tedious, and he didn't want his life to end up being filled with nothing but copying. Instead, once he was old enough to begin training for a craft, Naret chose to move in with a nearby family of Runners. As luck would have it, the boy was built in such a way that the training for this craft came fairly easily.

It wasn’t long before he was old enough to begin delivering messages and such; Naret’s easy taking to running long distances helped him to flourish in the craft. Not a large amount of talking was needed in the field, and so a simple pad of paper and piece of charcoal were enough to relay any words between he and whomever he was delivering to. When he was seventeen, he came to deliver a message to a man who happened to have a litter of Felines. Instead of taking marks for the delivery, Naret accepted one of the kittens instead. He named the kitten Ikarit, and even though he was often on the move the two of them got rather close. He didn't need to write to communicate with the feline, and Ikarit took a liking to traveling on Naret's shoulder, or - when it was fairly empty - in the empty pack at his waist.

Unlike most on Pern, Naret never thought too much on becoming a Dragonrider. As a child he’d dreamed, of course, everyone did; but due to his condition the young Runner simply never thought that he would be searched. In more recent days he still found himself staring for a more than a moment when a dragon was nearby, but he did his best to keep any dragon dreams that might form in his mind in check. He didn't think there was any use in getting his hopes up; he'd never heard of a mute Dragon Rider before.


Pets: Ikarit, a light tanned color feline with a pattern of spots along his coat, closely resembling the pattern of some of the larger felines on Pern.

[I've got a picture of a cat as a reference, let me know if it's not okay to use purebred pics as Pernese Cat references. Ikarit's not a purebred, I just like the coat pattern ^^;
secure.terrificpets.com/images/uploads/07001012642834_1.jpg ]

Dragon/Wher: n/a

Dragon/Wher Appearance: n/a

Dragon/Wher Personality: n/a