Post by Lothyna on Sept 10, 2010 9:20:39 GMT -5
Player:Lothyna
Name:Loth or Lothy
Are you 17+?:Yes
Contact Information:
AIM:NekoNoKuroYami
Email:Lothyna@gmail.com
Past RP Experience:
Forgot this part. Whoops.
AG1: I have forgotten them all, sadly. Viento, Oren, Shuurin, a few others. I've run, co-ran, and just played at them. Oren and Shuurin were mine. Oren still exists and has since this time-I still co-run it. I've been on a few others since then, but none that either lasted or were drop. Sadly. Swift was the most recent one, aside from Oren, however.
I've rped through emails, on non pern sites on portal when it was still open way back when, on Neopets of all things, and various messengers. I've even been a fan girl a time or two and authored and co authored fan fiction. ^_^'
Character:
Name: Mikovren
Age: 19
Gender: Male
Sexual Orientation:Somewhat Het-Curious, but mostly Gay (98.7%)
Occupation:Journeyman Dragon Healer (Working on Master)
Description:
Weird. Eclectic. Strange. Crazy. No, not crazy, Insanity. All of these traits- and more, appear within self-styled Miko, least of all his appearance. If he ever cut his hair-or let it be cut, in his life, it doesn’t show in the least. Soft strands fall in a thick, even rope to the floor. Despite being petite and wiry, its still quite a feat. Soft black hues are completely natural, filled with unnatural highlights of brilliant silver-white (all thanks to the natural lightening of plant dyes-and quite a feat to get them that pale).The hair is vibrant, unearthly, and sometimes appears to move on its own, lit from within with life as unrestrained as its bearer. It can’t be natural, and at the same time is entirely so. Its appearance is lush and rich enough that you just –have- to want to bury your hands within its strands, and tangle yourself there, clinging to the scent of its owner.
Tiny, Mikos height is barely even that of five feet. Slim and lithe, he looks more suited to a dress than some women, but if you ever mention that fact, you might find yourself flat on your back for a few hours, and bruised come morning. And no, ladies, I don’t mean from sex. Though he boasts no muscle, at least none worth noting, Miko still manages to get himself out of trouble, mainly because of being so centered, balanced ,and grounded. He moves with the liquid grace of a tumbler, the stalk of a lazy, sated panther, aware of everything. His very appearance in that sense reflects his view of the world: I could care less.
Its the grace of a serpentine dragon from myth in the water, the beauty of a swan, and the deadly cold of a gun. He seems half drunk on occasion from the half-stumbling walk, but if you look closely, even then he’s so balanced, so easily limber, that he’ll just flow with an attack of any sort, turning its momentum to his own. He has perfect control over his muscles and the energy he expands, especially on the dance floor.
A tight, slim stomach is proof of hours of dancing and exercise, work to stay fit, and a light diet. He moves with a combination of many styles on the gather square, echoed by the varied, lightly toned muscles in his legs. He can even Belly Dance (resurrected from Earth on Pern), well able to move those parts of his body as needed.
Laughing, sardonic lips are full and sweet, marred only by a thin scar from long ago, tracing over the left side neatly, too thin and straight to be from aught but a knife. Soft red in color, they’re occasionally pulled into an alluring pout, but more often are open as he sings along the music he’s constantly creating. They’re perfect for seduction, a trait he’s perfected to an unconscious grace that echoes into every part of him, overt and covert.
Unusual silver eyes are probably disturbing, but he’ll never care. Since none of his family have ever put in an appearance, no one really knows how he came by them. They could easily run in his family’s blood, which he claims they do if truly pressured, often with a laconic grin that hints at the trouble that lurks just below the surface of the absent-minded façade he shows the world.
Preferring to wear as loose and comfortable pants as he may, Miko sticks to either dark or light extremes, and usually has a plethora of sashes about his person-one, because he uses them constantly in his work, and two, they’re good for plenty other.
Ribbons lace their way deceptively through the long rope of hair, carrying one of Mikos' nasty little tricks each-sometimes more. Lock-picks abound, tiny knives slimmer that anything, and sharp enough to wound wind, among other things. Since Miko knows there’s no way to match up to people so much larger and more muscular than him, he works rather well at sabotage, assassins tricks, and things that are more painful than anyone could ever think from appearance.
Personality:
Scatterbrained. A loose canon. Insanity. All of these things echo throughout Mikos personality, carrying into, perhaps from, his clothing, and flowing throughout his music and life. Its what the world sees of Miko. Absent gazes and constant singing, in a rather wonderful voice, trained over the years, lead plenty of people to think that his sleepy-eyed sylph is unaware of anything, like a breath of music drifting away before its noticed, but nothing could be farther from the truth.
Layer upon layer is Miko’s inner construction, and none have ever glanced to the solid core of him. First is that absent-minded layer, where everything with little, and truly, all, meaning resides. Music flowing over him, strange and soothing as his own personality, and varied as the moods he bears. He’s in his own dream world, and appears to not notice anything, which is what he prefers. He takes his time to react, and speaks as if in a daze most of the time. However, he pulls shrewd hits, which prove he’s more than he appears. He prefers to go unnoticed as much as he can, let life flow over and around him. He’s less likely to be picked on then. And have to show what he can do.
Under that lies a mind like a steel trap that shows nothing of the information it contains. He keeps detailed notes on everything, locked away neatly in his mind. It is an odd set-up, which he once described like row upon row of file cabinets, with little tags that react to bits of information he’s thinking about. The stuff from the past just pops up when needed. It’s eerie as all get-out, but true for his mind. Acidic wit and a sharp sense of sardonic humor lurk within and just below that, the unholy light that sometimes shows in his gleaming eyes, and the hint of the sardonic smile that shows over slim, full lips.
Below those is a wall of pure, cold ice, indifferent to the world. It hides any true feelings that may show up within him, and lead to people thinking that bedding a sword might be more fun. He’s found that indifference is a wonderful weapon as well as a defense. He adores watching others fumble, an unholy glee that sometimes leads to a flash of pearly teeth.
The next, most hidden save for one, layer is that of care, friendship. He does care for others, but considers that to have little purpose, and a weak point for attack. However, that gentleness, the care of a loving older brother or adoring younger does sit there, waiting. Those few who do reach this far see the truth underneath the masks, and he is courteous, jovial-with a barbed acid tongue for rebukes, or a loving friend in times of anguish.
Few people can reach that far into him, but once given, his trust is never revoked without harsh penalties that make death preferable to the offender. Driving someone mad is far easier and more painful than killing them. Adept at reading people’s emotion and body language, Mikovren is just as skilled at using that against them, after sussing out the whys and wherefores, whenever he is truly angered.
The final layer is that which has never been touched, as is guarded more closely than anything, with only hints showing if someone reaches out enough to gain trust. It is love; pure, unalloyed, and unending. He once showed it to his parents, when he had them, and since then has never opened himself.
On the overt level, he’s not quite a bed-hopper, but is quite the seducer, and knows it. He enjoys flirtation and pleasure, but knows his own limits, and has strict allowances for things that can and cannot be done. With him, its never wise to cross the line, since when your own emotion and mind can be turned traitor to you…
History:
Miko was born on the most intriguing of dates- the very day of Years’ End. His parents were both common Pernese, one who was a Master Haper, and one who was a Master Printer-both who carried a grave secret and mission. His mother, Lillian, had conceived him on a playful dalliance, but loved him all the same. Visiting family at Benden Hold, Lillian gave birth to her first-and to be only, son on Year’s End, just a twelce short turns before the deadly menace of Thread would return to haunt the people of Pern once again in it’s tenth Pass, and before the troubles had occurred with the disease which decimated Silver Cove, then unfounded.
Due to her work, however, Mikovren was often to be left to the raising of the Harper Hall while she worked. From the age of four on, Miko, small and delicate, quickly learned to avoid most of the Harper Hall fosterlings-his size and shape had quickly made him a target of teasing and at the least mild pranks, which grew harsher and more frequent as he became older. While hiding from the others, Miko soon learned his own ways to protect himself, both in attitude and action, lending to many of his current traits. When not hiding among old records and devouring knowledge of the past, specifically about the massive dragons of Pern and the beautiful fire lizards that he loved to sneak away to watch fly over the hall, Mikovren would be learning to fight-often the hard way.
By the time he was nine, Mikovren was as well versed as some Journeyman Harpers in specific areas of Pernese history and lore, and had also proven out to have a rather elegant, if soft and haunting voice. However, when Lillian remembered her sons age at that time, and asked what he would prefer to do-if he wanted to be a Harper, Mikovren shocked everyone by denying, and asking instead to keep learning about the dragons and fire lizards he so loved. Unable to deny-and well aware after a rather long conversation with the MasterHarper, Lillian allowed Miko to leave the Hall, and change into a craft so different.
Parting was truly a bittersweet experience for the twain, as Lillian truly loved her son, despite never being there, and Mikovren, while glad to escape and to pursue his joy of all things draconic, would miss the chance to see his mother further, as he knew she’d rarely, if ever, be there again now. Gifted with a deep, Harper blue sash embroidered by her as a token to remember her with, Mikovren took that and a pipe she had carved him herself, along with his own handmade copies of records that had fascinated him, before setting foot outside the Hall and never looking back.
At ten, after a year of learning about the Healer Hall, Mikovren was formally apprenticed, and dove into learning about the dragons and fire-lizards in depth. Coming across more records than ever before about the great beasts, especially their creation, growth, and strengths, weaknesses, susceptibilities, and more. Devouring their knowledge in leaps and bounds, Miko was more often found studying theory than practical work, except for a few noticeable instances, and those were, while successful, trials. Doable, but trials. Due to the lack of practical application for his knowledge, Mikovren spent seven turns instead of the normal six at the Healer Hall before walking the tables.
By his third turn, Mikovren had made a name for himself as someone not to mess with, holding his own against the omnipresent bullying for his tastes in partners, and his looks. He often slipped away from his studies to observe performers, and trained himself to mimic their moves to the best of his abilities-which was no small feat. At the same time, the young man found an interest in using knives for more than just a healers trade, or that of defense, thanks to a surprise visit from a Harper bearing a gift of Lillian's to him. As after leaving the hall he'd never expected to receive aught or even hear from her again, Mikovren was rather startled-even more so when it was revealed to be delicate, fine wires, simple, but beautiful tones of wood, and the sharpest, most varied knives he'd seen. Accompanying this was a note that even then made him laugh: Miko, my son, I know we may not meet again, but I asked Lancor to bring these to you. You've gotten to be an apprentice there, I know, and you must have some talent for knives by now. More so, unless you've changed beyond all recognition, I thought you might like to learn a side-trade to amuse yourself-studying is wonderful, but remember to take a break! These are tools to carve and whittle gemstones, crystals, wood, and the like. If you break them you can get more from the Smith Crafthall. Be careful, and remember that all my love is yours wherever you go. ~Your loving mother, Lillian. .
The gift became a secondary escape, and while no master, Mikovren discovered a love of working with earth in such a manner, crafting away while studying, and creating many fine items for decoration for himself and the few lovers he had-and a few to sell at gathers when the fancy took him. To this day, he guards those tools and the first piece of crystal he ever carved, inexpertly, with his life.
In his final turn as an apprentice, the young man was found to have an affinity with not only the winged beings, but for the less common herbs that went beyond even some human Healers. Tasked to study these even after his walking of the Tables, Miko found in this, and his carvings, a way to bring extra marks to his pocket in order to trade for his wants, and to provide for his own supplies as a Dragon Healer.
After reaching his status as journeyman, Miko spent the first year learning more from the records he’d been previously denied due to his status. As Silver Cove was established and struck with illness, Miko was one of the few healers at the hall who had some idea of what was going on-and yet was as utterly lost as the rest. His research into disease and genetics gave him some basis for comparing the symptoms to the records, yet left scars as he and others scrambled to find a cure for the riders and their dragons. As the truth came to light, Mikovren realized he’d learned something important: records were wonderful, but there was more he needed to learn, and fast. He felt somewhat guilty for hiding-and he knew it was, in the Hall, rather than leaving to learn more of his home planet, and actually work with the beasts he adored.
Taking his leave with the blessings of his Masters, the young dragon healer left the hall just before his 18th turn to travel to the new relocation of Silver Cove at Cerulean Weyr, and work with the riders there to learn what he was lacking, and study more into the dragons and fire lizards-his passion. Not to mention working in an isolated area with new herbs to study, and the crystal caverns nearby ust ripe for exploration. He couldn't wait.
On his arrival, courtesy of the scarred blue-rider S’lain, who was to be his superior (much to Mikovren’s annoyance, as he felt he was being given a nursemaid at first) , Miko settled in neatly to his new home, falling in love with the raw beauty, and how different it was from the Hall. More, he was looked at askance far less here, especially where his preferences in partners lay-one of the biggest benefits, as far as he was concerned. Still, the dragon healer retained his sharp tongue, and prankish nature, often ‘practicing’ those skills on S’lain, ostensibly because of being annoyed about another Journeyman hovering. The truth was somewhere else, however-he admired the rider for his struggle despite his handicaps, and delighted in the smiles he could coax from people after an amusing (never harmful) prank on them.
In the turn and a half since he’s been at the Weyr, Miko’s slowly settled into having someone there to continue teaching (read: forcing him to) Miko to work the practical aspect now that he had theoretical, and has recently started to explore more on his own the lands that lay about the Weyr, often hunting his own wild-grown flora for use.
Fun Facts:
He has a thing for braiding peoples' hair, and unbraiding it, constantly. Either that, or staring, unblinking, at people until it creeps them out. If they can survive that, he lets' up, and gives them a bit of respect.
Bonded Critter(s):
Type: Dragon
Name: Seriath
Color: Green 008080
Age: Hatchling
Telekinetic Rating: 92
Bonuses/Minuses: (Base Roll 77) + (Green +10) + (SECRET +5)
Specialization: Precision
- Large bonus to skill when working with her egg-twin, Priyath.
Breakdown
Strength: 10
Precision: 50 (40 + 10)
Endurance: 21
Concentration: 21
Description:
Personality:
Fun Facts:
Craftskills:
Craft:Dragon Healer
Level of Proficiency:Journeyman
Specialty:Fire-lizards, Wings on any critter, genetics, diseases, theoretical knowledgem practical knowledge of carving wood and rock, and rarer flora.
Weakness: Any practical knowledge or work/application aside from wings-especially feet. Includes some common flora.
Name:Loth or Lothy
Are you 17+?:Yes
Contact Information:
AIM:NekoNoKuroYami
Email:Lothyna@gmail.com
Past RP Experience:
Forgot this part. Whoops.
AG1: I have forgotten them all, sadly. Viento, Oren, Shuurin, a few others. I've run, co-ran, and just played at them. Oren and Shuurin were mine. Oren still exists and has since this time-I still co-run it. I've been on a few others since then, but none that either lasted or were drop. Sadly. Swift was the most recent one, aside from Oren, however.
I've rped through emails, on non pern sites on portal when it was still open way back when, on Neopets of all things, and various messengers. I've even been a fan girl a time or two and authored and co authored fan fiction. ^_^'
Character:
Name: Mikovren
Age: 19
Gender: Male
Sexual Orientation:Somewhat Het-Curious, but mostly Gay (98.7%)
Occupation:Journeyman Dragon Healer (Working on Master)
Description:
Weird. Eclectic. Strange. Crazy. No, not crazy, Insanity. All of these traits- and more, appear within self-styled Miko, least of all his appearance. If he ever cut his hair-or let it be cut, in his life, it doesn’t show in the least. Soft strands fall in a thick, even rope to the floor. Despite being petite and wiry, its still quite a feat. Soft black hues are completely natural, filled with unnatural highlights of brilliant silver-white (all thanks to the natural lightening of plant dyes-and quite a feat to get them that pale).The hair is vibrant, unearthly, and sometimes appears to move on its own, lit from within with life as unrestrained as its bearer. It can’t be natural, and at the same time is entirely so. Its appearance is lush and rich enough that you just –have- to want to bury your hands within its strands, and tangle yourself there, clinging to the scent of its owner.
Tiny, Mikos height is barely even that of five feet. Slim and lithe, he looks more suited to a dress than some women, but if you ever mention that fact, you might find yourself flat on your back for a few hours, and bruised come morning. And no, ladies, I don’t mean from sex. Though he boasts no muscle, at least none worth noting, Miko still manages to get himself out of trouble, mainly because of being so centered, balanced ,and grounded. He moves with the liquid grace of a tumbler, the stalk of a lazy, sated panther, aware of everything. His very appearance in that sense reflects his view of the world: I could care less.
Its the grace of a serpentine dragon from myth in the water, the beauty of a swan, and the deadly cold of a gun. He seems half drunk on occasion from the half-stumbling walk, but if you look closely, even then he’s so balanced, so easily limber, that he’ll just flow with an attack of any sort, turning its momentum to his own. He has perfect control over his muscles and the energy he expands, especially on the dance floor.
A tight, slim stomach is proof of hours of dancing and exercise, work to stay fit, and a light diet. He moves with a combination of many styles on the gather square, echoed by the varied, lightly toned muscles in his legs. He can even Belly Dance (resurrected from Earth on Pern), well able to move those parts of his body as needed.
Laughing, sardonic lips are full and sweet, marred only by a thin scar from long ago, tracing over the left side neatly, too thin and straight to be from aught but a knife. Soft red in color, they’re occasionally pulled into an alluring pout, but more often are open as he sings along the music he’s constantly creating. They’re perfect for seduction, a trait he’s perfected to an unconscious grace that echoes into every part of him, overt and covert.
Unusual silver eyes are probably disturbing, but he’ll never care. Since none of his family have ever put in an appearance, no one really knows how he came by them. They could easily run in his family’s blood, which he claims they do if truly pressured, often with a laconic grin that hints at the trouble that lurks just below the surface of the absent-minded façade he shows the world.
Preferring to wear as loose and comfortable pants as he may, Miko sticks to either dark or light extremes, and usually has a plethora of sashes about his person-one, because he uses them constantly in his work, and two, they’re good for plenty other.
Ribbons lace their way deceptively through the long rope of hair, carrying one of Mikos' nasty little tricks each-sometimes more. Lock-picks abound, tiny knives slimmer that anything, and sharp enough to wound wind, among other things. Since Miko knows there’s no way to match up to people so much larger and more muscular than him, he works rather well at sabotage, assassins tricks, and things that are more painful than anyone could ever think from appearance.
Personality:
Scatterbrained. A loose canon. Insanity. All of these things echo throughout Mikos personality, carrying into, perhaps from, his clothing, and flowing throughout his music and life. Its what the world sees of Miko. Absent gazes and constant singing, in a rather wonderful voice, trained over the years, lead plenty of people to think that his sleepy-eyed sylph is unaware of anything, like a breath of music drifting away before its noticed, but nothing could be farther from the truth.
Layer upon layer is Miko’s inner construction, and none have ever glanced to the solid core of him. First is that absent-minded layer, where everything with little, and truly, all, meaning resides. Music flowing over him, strange and soothing as his own personality, and varied as the moods he bears. He’s in his own dream world, and appears to not notice anything, which is what he prefers. He takes his time to react, and speaks as if in a daze most of the time. However, he pulls shrewd hits, which prove he’s more than he appears. He prefers to go unnoticed as much as he can, let life flow over and around him. He’s less likely to be picked on then. And have to show what he can do.
Under that lies a mind like a steel trap that shows nothing of the information it contains. He keeps detailed notes on everything, locked away neatly in his mind. It is an odd set-up, which he once described like row upon row of file cabinets, with little tags that react to bits of information he’s thinking about. The stuff from the past just pops up when needed. It’s eerie as all get-out, but true for his mind. Acidic wit and a sharp sense of sardonic humor lurk within and just below that, the unholy light that sometimes shows in his gleaming eyes, and the hint of the sardonic smile that shows over slim, full lips.
Below those is a wall of pure, cold ice, indifferent to the world. It hides any true feelings that may show up within him, and lead to people thinking that bedding a sword might be more fun. He’s found that indifference is a wonderful weapon as well as a defense. He adores watching others fumble, an unholy glee that sometimes leads to a flash of pearly teeth.
The next, most hidden save for one, layer is that of care, friendship. He does care for others, but considers that to have little purpose, and a weak point for attack. However, that gentleness, the care of a loving older brother or adoring younger does sit there, waiting. Those few who do reach this far see the truth underneath the masks, and he is courteous, jovial-with a barbed acid tongue for rebukes, or a loving friend in times of anguish.
Few people can reach that far into him, but once given, his trust is never revoked without harsh penalties that make death preferable to the offender. Driving someone mad is far easier and more painful than killing them. Adept at reading people’s emotion and body language, Mikovren is just as skilled at using that against them, after sussing out the whys and wherefores, whenever he is truly angered.
The final layer is that which has never been touched, as is guarded more closely than anything, with only hints showing if someone reaches out enough to gain trust. It is love; pure, unalloyed, and unending. He once showed it to his parents, when he had them, and since then has never opened himself.
On the overt level, he’s not quite a bed-hopper, but is quite the seducer, and knows it. He enjoys flirtation and pleasure, but knows his own limits, and has strict allowances for things that can and cannot be done. With him, its never wise to cross the line, since when your own emotion and mind can be turned traitor to you…
History:
Miko was born on the most intriguing of dates- the very day of Years’ End. His parents were both common Pernese, one who was a Master Haper, and one who was a Master Printer-both who carried a grave secret and mission. His mother, Lillian, had conceived him on a playful dalliance, but loved him all the same. Visiting family at Benden Hold, Lillian gave birth to her first-and to be only, son on Year’s End, just a twelce short turns before the deadly menace of Thread would return to haunt the people of Pern once again in it’s tenth Pass, and before the troubles had occurred with the disease which decimated Silver Cove, then unfounded.
Due to her work, however, Mikovren was often to be left to the raising of the Harper Hall while she worked. From the age of four on, Miko, small and delicate, quickly learned to avoid most of the Harper Hall fosterlings-his size and shape had quickly made him a target of teasing and at the least mild pranks, which grew harsher and more frequent as he became older. While hiding from the others, Miko soon learned his own ways to protect himself, both in attitude and action, lending to many of his current traits. When not hiding among old records and devouring knowledge of the past, specifically about the massive dragons of Pern and the beautiful fire lizards that he loved to sneak away to watch fly over the hall, Mikovren would be learning to fight-often the hard way.
By the time he was nine, Mikovren was as well versed as some Journeyman Harpers in specific areas of Pernese history and lore, and had also proven out to have a rather elegant, if soft and haunting voice. However, when Lillian remembered her sons age at that time, and asked what he would prefer to do-if he wanted to be a Harper, Mikovren shocked everyone by denying, and asking instead to keep learning about the dragons and fire lizards he so loved. Unable to deny-and well aware after a rather long conversation with the MasterHarper, Lillian allowed Miko to leave the Hall, and change into a craft so different.
Parting was truly a bittersweet experience for the twain, as Lillian truly loved her son, despite never being there, and Mikovren, while glad to escape and to pursue his joy of all things draconic, would miss the chance to see his mother further, as he knew she’d rarely, if ever, be there again now. Gifted with a deep, Harper blue sash embroidered by her as a token to remember her with, Mikovren took that and a pipe she had carved him herself, along with his own handmade copies of records that had fascinated him, before setting foot outside the Hall and never looking back.
At ten, after a year of learning about the Healer Hall, Mikovren was formally apprenticed, and dove into learning about the dragons and fire-lizards in depth. Coming across more records than ever before about the great beasts, especially their creation, growth, and strengths, weaknesses, susceptibilities, and more. Devouring their knowledge in leaps and bounds, Miko was more often found studying theory than practical work, except for a few noticeable instances, and those were, while successful, trials. Doable, but trials. Due to the lack of practical application for his knowledge, Mikovren spent seven turns instead of the normal six at the Healer Hall before walking the tables.
By his third turn, Mikovren had made a name for himself as someone not to mess with, holding his own against the omnipresent bullying for his tastes in partners, and his looks. He often slipped away from his studies to observe performers, and trained himself to mimic their moves to the best of his abilities-which was no small feat. At the same time, the young man found an interest in using knives for more than just a healers trade, or that of defense, thanks to a surprise visit from a Harper bearing a gift of Lillian's to him. As after leaving the hall he'd never expected to receive aught or even hear from her again, Mikovren was rather startled-even more so when it was revealed to be delicate, fine wires, simple, but beautiful tones of wood, and the sharpest, most varied knives he'd seen. Accompanying this was a note that even then made him laugh: Miko, my son, I know we may not meet again, but I asked Lancor to bring these to you. You've gotten to be an apprentice there, I know, and you must have some talent for knives by now. More so, unless you've changed beyond all recognition, I thought you might like to learn a side-trade to amuse yourself-studying is wonderful, but remember to take a break! These are tools to carve and whittle gemstones, crystals, wood, and the like. If you break them you can get more from the Smith Crafthall. Be careful, and remember that all my love is yours wherever you go. ~Your loving mother, Lillian. .
The gift became a secondary escape, and while no master, Mikovren discovered a love of working with earth in such a manner, crafting away while studying, and creating many fine items for decoration for himself and the few lovers he had-and a few to sell at gathers when the fancy took him. To this day, he guards those tools and the first piece of crystal he ever carved, inexpertly, with his life.
In his final turn as an apprentice, the young man was found to have an affinity with not only the winged beings, but for the less common herbs that went beyond even some human Healers. Tasked to study these even after his walking of the Tables, Miko found in this, and his carvings, a way to bring extra marks to his pocket in order to trade for his wants, and to provide for his own supplies as a Dragon Healer.
After reaching his status as journeyman, Miko spent the first year learning more from the records he’d been previously denied due to his status. As Silver Cove was established and struck with illness, Miko was one of the few healers at the hall who had some idea of what was going on-and yet was as utterly lost as the rest. His research into disease and genetics gave him some basis for comparing the symptoms to the records, yet left scars as he and others scrambled to find a cure for the riders and their dragons. As the truth came to light, Mikovren realized he’d learned something important: records were wonderful, but there was more he needed to learn, and fast. He felt somewhat guilty for hiding-and he knew it was, in the Hall, rather than leaving to learn more of his home planet, and actually work with the beasts he adored.
Taking his leave with the blessings of his Masters, the young dragon healer left the hall just before his 18th turn to travel to the new relocation of Silver Cove at Cerulean Weyr, and work with the riders there to learn what he was lacking, and study more into the dragons and fire lizards-his passion. Not to mention working in an isolated area with new herbs to study, and the crystal caverns nearby ust ripe for exploration. He couldn't wait.
On his arrival, courtesy of the scarred blue-rider S’lain, who was to be his superior (much to Mikovren’s annoyance, as he felt he was being given a nursemaid at first) , Miko settled in neatly to his new home, falling in love with the raw beauty, and how different it was from the Hall. More, he was looked at askance far less here, especially where his preferences in partners lay-one of the biggest benefits, as far as he was concerned. Still, the dragon healer retained his sharp tongue, and prankish nature, often ‘practicing’ those skills on S’lain, ostensibly because of being annoyed about another Journeyman hovering. The truth was somewhere else, however-he admired the rider for his struggle despite his handicaps, and delighted in the smiles he could coax from people after an amusing (never harmful) prank on them.
In the turn and a half since he’s been at the Weyr, Miko’s slowly settled into having someone there to continue teaching (read: forcing him to) Miko to work the practical aspect now that he had theoretical, and has recently started to explore more on his own the lands that lay about the Weyr, often hunting his own wild-grown flora for use.
Fun Facts:
He has a thing for braiding peoples' hair, and unbraiding it, constantly. Either that, or staring, unblinking, at people until it creeps them out. If they can survive that, he lets' up, and gives them a bit of respect.
Bonded Critter(s):
Type: Dragon
Name: Seriath
Color: Green 008080
Age: Hatchling
Telekinetic Rating: 92
Bonuses/Minuses: (Base Roll 77) + (Green +10) + (SECRET +5)
Specialization: Precision
- Large bonus to skill when working with her egg-twin, Priyath.
Breakdown
Strength: 10
Precision: 50 (40 + 10)
Endurance: 21
Concentration: 21
Description:
Personality:
Fun Facts:
Craftskills:
Craft:Dragon Healer
Level of Proficiency:Journeyman
Specialty:Fire-lizards, Wings on any critter, genetics, diseases, theoretical knowledgem practical knowledge of carving wood and rock, and rarer flora.
Weakness: Any practical knowledge or work/application aside from wings-especially feet. Includes some common flora.
