Post by Lothyna on Sept 16, 2010 21:48:00 GMT -5
Player:
Name: Lothy
Are you 17+?: Yes
Contact Information:
AIM: Nekonokuroyami
Email: Lothyna@gmail.com
Past RP Experience: Not listing agaiiiiin. <3
Character:
Name:Savareniel Sa'niel
Age: 19
Gender: Male
Sexual Orientation: Homosexual
Occupation: Smithcraft Journeyman
Description:
Often coming off as of no concern, since he’s both so shy and not really bulked, Sa'niel is usually dismissed as unthreatening. This would be a mistake, since though young, Sa'niel has both grace and power, gained through work and care. Instead of being built with stocky muscles, he is slim with corded muscles from work at the forge, time spent running, and riding a favored young stallion he trained. Various hunting trips and further work to provide money for food and lodging keep him fit, even after shifting from spending most of his time in the Hall to time in the various woods and forests.
While a great many people are taller, Sa'niel is still of a decent height, coming midrange to about 5’ 4”, with an even proportion between legs and chest, giving him a sturdy center of balance that is rather useful in fights, though he’s not very graceful when dancing. That could just be from lack of practice, but he often seems as a stiff as a wooden board-and has enough muscle to imitate it, too.
With sturdy limbs, however, Sa'niel is able to accomplish most of his life on his own, and has to work to keep them so since most of his work is dangerous in some form or another, and leads to many scars. His legs are the most obvious point, the corded muscles strong from running and riding, and covered in a fair amount of fine and not so slim scars. These are proof of his battles in the wilderness and time in the forge, let alone learning to fight under his Master and friends.
Long hair is a style he’s adapted over the past few years, since about midway though his tenure as an apprentice. It falls to the bottom end of his shoulder blades, maybe an inch or two past, and is a rich, deep brown, with softer auburn highlights from time spent in the sun. Thankfully moderately thick, Sa'niel tends to keep his hair down unless he’s on a trip for pelts or in the forge. In those cases is where it is often tied back with a stamped and wrought silver clasp he made mid-way through his time as an apprentice of Smith Craft.
Amber eyes are the truly unique thing for Sa'niel, though, and set him apart from most once they get a good look. Akin to the warning tone of fire lizards, dragons, and whers, they tend to offset most people-which suits him just fine. Slightly slanted, though not much- they are framed by heavy dark lashes, under arched brows that hint at Sa'niel’s general good humor.
A nose which looks to have been broken at least once, slightly crooked, sits above full lips and a stubborn jaw, the underside of which bears a fine thin scar, from an accident with hot wire-thin metal in the forge. Sturdy, strong hands are deft none-the-less, and bear many scars from the forge and tumbles in the wild. The largest scar he holds is across a hip, from an accident in training with live steel, and is a poignant reminder that he needs to watch his surroundings as well.
Personality:
Straight up is how you'll see me stand
With a strong sense of duty ingrained from birth and furthered in his craft, Sa'niel is more than willing to take the world on, especially in pursuit of laws and equality. In truth, this is a must for him, especially given his skills and supplies. Unwilling to stand aside and watch another be harmed, this young man is rather likely to charge straight into the fray, and lick his wounds in private later. Children and animals inspire the greatest devotion in this young man.
Will you believe in me tonight
Strong of heart and devoted to the few he values closely, Sa'niel is willingly loyal to those who return the favor. While it is never a blind loyalty, he will always give the benefit of the doubt. He has no problems listening to the problems of other and attempting to aid them. This loyalty was both trained and innate to him, though once broken it is never re-granted, as breaking it involves heinous acts.
The flowers turned to Grey
When a trust so whole and endearing in it’s purity is broken, little remains but the ashes of a shattered faith. Though few people ever push Sa'niel to this degree, once his rage has passed, the sorrow of betrayal lingers, especially for those who were closely trusted once. It is hard to forsake someone close, even when acts are committed that are beyond redemption, and given a hidden sensitive nature, doubly so for Sa'niel.
I've got the cure when passive protest just won't do
Given his tendencies and raising, it is not surprising that Sa'niel is a being of action rather than words more than half the time. If things take too long, he’s highly likely to make a rash, impulsive decision without thought for his health to enact what needs to occur-he’s definitely of the mind that it is easier to beg forgiveness than ask permission. While tolerant to a degree, his impatience can get the best of him, and makes life with the young weapons-smith interesting, at the least.
Break down and cease all feeling, burn now what was once breathing
Far from flawless, Sa'niel has his tempers and moods, and a strong dislike of being passive and waiting for events to occur. At times sullen in remembrance of past losses, he can sink into quite the ‘blue funk’. While Shen can usually bring him back to peace at least, ware getting in his way is the snippy-ness still abounds. Though an apology usually follows such events, it may be some time in coming. That and his sorrows weigh the young man down as they do many, and such time often lead him to seek solitude or a fight, be it in the jungles or with other humans.
The wood it whispers in a language of it's own
With a love of nature and animals, it should come as no surprise that Sa'niel loves the woods, the jungle, the forests. He often seeks his fortunes there, spending days at a time tracking various animals, gathering edible foods and procuring hides. He makes his livelihood there, not just at the forges. The peace of the trees brings him a peace not found elsewhere, which lingers for some time after, easing the rough edges of his personality for a time.
All the words that you’d unsay
Regret over past mistakes and lives lost is ever a part of this generation, and it lies true for Sa'nial. With the loss of his older brother and mentor, one to illness, the other to wounds sustained in Threadfall, there was a darkening of Sa'niel’s spirit. A part of him will always mourn the loss of the two men he admired, and he regrets the fights and losses. Every remembrance of them forces a tempering now of his actions, lest he once again make the mistake of saying something he’d be unable to take back, leave another friend or partner in anger for a possibly last time.
I remain in shadows growing wings
Shy, after years of being mostly alone at work or in the woods, Sa'niel prefers to avoid large gatherings for the most part, usually unsure of himself in the company of many. While not terrified into stillness by others, at least, Sa'niel would rather be in the quiet of the forest than a gather, and can be awkward around unknown people, unless he himself is in a stall to sell his wares, or with close friends and able to relax. Shen is a constant soothing presence at these times.
We can burn it and leave For we are the beautiful thieves
When it comes to his skills and abilities, Sa'niel is rather proud, as he has worked hard to become what he is. Years of training have paid off, and like most young things, he can be brash, though he knows, after many scrapes, that immortality is a young fallacy. Still, he also gets possessive, especially of his designs, and is rather protective of what he considers his. This possessiveness isn’t extreme, especially not with people, though he never allows anyone to touch the two strap buckles he keeps hidden in his things, mementos of D’el and Z’ch.
Press your lips to the sculptures, And surely you'll stay
While attractive to a fair amount due to his lithe build and hair, not to mention the eyes, Sa'niel is rather aloof from the common fling. This is due in part to his shyness, and also to his love of solitude and privacy. Few can or want to keep up with him, and he doesn’t really want to be tied down, though a part of him longs for the companionship and perhaps love of others, he has yet to find such or create or claim it for himself.
I'll make it worth your while just let me taste the sky.
Yet, despite the flaws, Sa'niel has a heart of gold, when captured. Easily proven in the love given to the deceased ‘family’ he had, and to his beloved green fire lizard, Shen, he can and will give unselfishly to one who entraps his curiosity, lust, and friendship to this degree, however uncommon it may be. That is the kind of love he longs for, and will likely accept nothing less.
History:
A story of crushed velvet, candle wax, and dried up flowers
Like most weyrbrats, Savareniel was the product of a green-flight, son of bronze rider T’reen of Romafellth, and green rider Une of Ozeth. Left to the communal raising of the Fort Weyr with others in the crèche, Savareniel grew apart from family quickly, though he formed a couple of close ties with two other boys, both older than himself. This distance of his parents never bothered him, and he certainly didn’t mind being raised by everyone, since he quickly learned how to avoid getting caught causing trouble-courtesy of Zech and Daniel, and who to turn to if he was hurt beyond childish scrapes.
Once he was old enough, namely to walk, Savareniel, called Sav by most, tagged everywhere at the heels of his two ‘big brothers’, Zech and Daniel, including to the hatchings. Empathic, more so than some other chosen candidates, the young boy loved the hatchings, and attended first Zech’s’, then Daniel’s. Watching them find a partner on the sands, and hearing from them every detail of what it was like, what happened in training, gave the young boy hopes and dreams for years. Their partnering, Z’ch to a young, lithe bronze-Tallgeeth, and D’el to a stout blue, Tauruth, left a lasting impression. The two new Weyrlings, and into their Riding years, taught Sav everything they knew, which was not limited to dragon-kind alone.
Under their tutelage, Savareniel learned several fighting styles to defend himself from others in the crèche or outside the Weyr, since even then he was effeminate. When not with D’el and Z’ch, Savareniel spent a great deal of his time exploring all over the Weyr, and the lands nearby when he could sneak away, curious as a cat even as a toddling babe. Those explorations helped build the basis for a runner’s build later, and cemented his love of the unknown.
I held a fallen star and it wept for me
When Savareniel was 9 turns old, he suffered the first let down of his life, and one of the most poignant. During threadfall, Savareniel had been curled in the caves, watching the sky above the bowl as was his habit, in case of his ‘family’ getting injured, and to lend a hand where he could to get injured riders numbweed and bandages. As he darted back inside after handing off some of the supplies to an injured green, some instinct made the young boy pause, heart in throat, as he heard an eerie keen rip through the Weyr. Somehow, though it was over in an instant, he heard two conflicting voices. Even as he felt the rarely heard brassy voice of Tallgeeth scream a warning, he heard the anguished, wordless cry of Tauruth as D’el was enveloped in thread.
Later, Z’ch would brokenly recount how they’d miss-guagued a skip between, and D’el had brought himself and Tauruth back into the path of a clump, unavoidable. The tragedy horrified Sav, who spent several weeks hiding in Z’ch’s Weyr, silent and morose at the loss of his brother, the only fatality of that fall, or one recent. Each time Z’ch went out, he stayed hidden, each time slowly losing some fear as they returned unscathed.
There are no flowers, no not this time
During his ninth turn, Sav was allowed to attend the hatchings, and each time felt a piece of him wither, as, though to young to be a candidate, and watching from the stands, he saw others impress the great dragons, and was reminded of D’el, and his early dreams. He’d overheard the Creche-Mother mention that no dragon had found a trace of search-potential in him, and understood more and more each time that it was a forgone dream. Around his tenth turn, Savareniel started spending more time with the visiting craft journeymen than learning more about dragons, with Z'ch's consent.
Deciding that he really enjoyed and liked learning from one in particular, Sav sought the journeyman he’d been spending time learning about metals and other fighting styles from, who’d offered to take him from the Weyr to the Hall. Since he had some aptitude, and no obvious potential, it was allowed on the condition that he was returned to stand at the future clutches just in case-since he was the son of a strong bronze rider, he was expected to have a potential of some sort, perhaps not matured enough yet to be shown.
Grabbing the opportunity with both hands, Savareniel willingly left the Weyr, glad to escape the site of memories that hurt, and the constant press of thread. The Hall offered a chance at new skills and a new life, without the failures hinted at amid the riders for his apparent lacks-of which there seemed to be several more often than not.
So I left my home, took a whole new name.
Once apprenticed at the Hall, Savareniel found his passion to lie in two areas within the hall, and a couple without, all of which were encouraged. Within the hall, Sav devoted his time to weapon-crafting, including the detail work when he was older, and to the crafting of wires for artistic pieces of jewelry. In his spare time he spent hours learning more fighting styles, especially those using blades (which he himself had often crafted). Learning that helped him learn why certain techniques were mandatory, and where the strength of the crafting needed to excel for use.
Outside the hall, he’d taken up briefly with a couple Beast Craft Apprentices, and spent some time learning tricks from them-mainly on handling hides and pelts, and training animals. Specifically, the runners, which he was coming to adore. Useful and friendly, he spent much of his time not occupied with his craft watching them, and saving and scraping his marks to purchase one.
Intermittent hatchings at Fort during his pre- and early teenage years forced a resurfacing pain as he was left standing time and again, and the rumors to his unfitness grew-especially from jealous, younger candidates wanting to shine, when he’d been left behind so often. Each time did bring one bright spot, however, and that was time spent with Z’ch, reminiscing and reinforcing their friendship and ties. Z’ch’s helped him acquire the marks to pay for the breeding of two equines of his choice for the foal he wanted, and supported his thoughts on spending his time exploring, since many areas were still wild and untamed or unknown.
The sky had come crashing down like the news of an intimate suicide.
When Savareniel was sixteen, the second tremor rocked his world as Z’ch too, was taken. He’d learned only a few months prior that the bronze-rider was transferred to Silver Cove Weyr, removing a friend from close proximity-which also meant he put his foot down about returning to further hatchings. He had better things to do. But in that transfer was the problem-right then, unknown, struck the disease that cost so many lives, and Z’ch was one of the first to fall to it. The last thing he heard from the bronze Tallgeeth was interspersed ramblings, full of undecipherable pleas, before it stopped. He knew, even as it was a seven-day before he learned from a message, that Z’ch was gone-and his last tie to the Weyr.
This loss became a silent burden that he spoke of only to his master, and only in passing. Most of the young man’s grief turned into time spent at the forge, when not watching over the newborn foal, a final gift to him. The young foal was a brilliant golden red, with stark black socks, and a brilliant cream mane and tail. A single black stripe covered the right side of his face, making him a rather endearing youngster, quickly named Paxars. Between his craft and schooling his mount, who was a cross between a sprinter and a draft, to create a fine heavy endurance riding mount, Savareniel soon was working past the stubborn wound of loss, even if it would not leave entirely.
My solidarity now only comes in pairs
Shortly before turning seventeen, and well into his craft by the time, Sav was gifted from his master a tiny fire lizard egg, from his own queens’ clutch. The gift was a joy to young Savareniel, and a fear-dragons found him unsuitable, how would a fire lizard differ? Still, the aged Master had become almost a father figure, and he had no desire to refuse such a treasure. Further, his master knew his love of exploration and solitude, hunting and working. He claimed the gift would allow him to stay in touch, and summon help if needed. Unable to argue, Sav found himself truly thankful, for the gift included an allowance that he would be welcome to come and go from the hall as he pleased, once he attained the status of journeyman.
Within a week of constant watching the egg in sands left by his forge, the shell started to move and crack. Anxious nights and days faded away as the pieces of the egg fell, bit by bit pried free by the creature within. A claw here, a flash of hide there, and a few minutes later, a hungry, creeling green gem, coated in egg goo, was ravenously devouring meat strips from Sav’s hand as her wings and body dried, carefully wiped once sated with damp cloths, then oil. Years of listening to Z’ch and D’el paid off, as the little green, named Shen, blossomed under his care, and the tentative bond deepened, giving Sav a sense of what he’d missed out on.
Still, her companionship gave him pride and love, and a source of comfort on nights where memories of the deaths of his family haunted him. As she grew, Savareniel grew into his body and craft, becoming a Journeyman just before Shen’s first flight. His time at the hall had honed him into a strong young man, and he never regretted the choice to leave Fort Weyr behind. Paxars, too, was grown and trained, and he’d saved enough to outfit himself, especially as he could make his own weapons for the hunts and explorations he intended to go on now.
Velvet Burns Wrists While Restraining
A trip via boat took Savareniel, Shen, and Paxars down to the Southern Continent, dropping them near the Weyr. From there, the trio set out on their own, staking out and mapping the land holding a cave at the outskirts of one of the holds, and carefully hunting the animals in the area, tanning each hide and pelt with care, and picking the ones which were fine in color or texture especially. Some Sav kept for himself in a cave he was making into a home, and some were sold for necessary food and tools. Amid the bustle of settling in, Sav watched Shen grow, and enjoyed her cavorting antics with the wild fairs.
Mid-summer, however, Savareniel found himself-thankfully home in the evening, and secure, in a unique position. In the trials of settling into a new place, he’d forgotten that Shen was mature-and that the fire lizards had flights just as the dragons did. Her first flight, that night, was a poignant experience of lust and need as she led wild blues, browns, and a couple of bronzes, on a crazy, whirlwind flight. The resultant clutch would never be found, but Sav would also never forget the insane need, and the desire for other, human company brought on by it. He knew, well and good, that he preferred his own gender at that point-it had been a reason he’d left the more populous areas, since most people still frowned on that outside of the Weyrs.
Hidden away, he’d held himself aloof from encounters of that nature, and it was both a blessing and a curse, since he was to experience several more flights, each time locked inside with only himself to ease the strain-also by his own choice. That kind of tie was impossible to desire and sustain for the most part, given his adoration of the wild and dangerous lifestyle-forging weapons, hunting, and living alone. While he did interact with others for the feline hunts, he spent most of the rest of the time trapping smaller animals himself, providing food and the materials for repairs to his clothing and Paxars tack.
This is a lonely war tonight, with soldiers breaking
Yet solitude in the following year bothered him little, and every sevenday he would send Shen back to the hall, occasionally asking for transport to sell some furs, mostly letting his master know he lived. At times, too, he’d send a message to S’ren, a friend he’d made while an apprentice, and got her to join him for a day or so in the sun, when her duties permitted. She was the one person aside from the Master he trained under to see him without masks, and to accept his proclivities.
Still, at the end of the first year, Sav could admit, if only to himself, that despite his cave beind a home, and the love he had for Shen, the south, and Paxars, he was, at times, lonely. The memories of Z’ch and D’el haunted him more, especially as he received news of a reason found, after many more deaths, and thread continued to fall. By that point he had sent another message to S’ren, begging companionship for a time, and help selling the newest pelts-with a promise of a gift to her.
~Searched by S'ren of Feynth
~Helped defend against Silver Cove
~Tried to flee hatching, was bitten in the butt by Shen, and kidnapped by Feynth again.
~Impressed Geveneth, and fell in love.
Fun Facts:
~knows enough Beast Craft to train a equine, which he has done, and to care for hides of his kills.
~Knows enough field medicine to patch himself until he can get to a Healer if things go wrong.
~Spent extensive time not only crafting but learning to use weapons.
~Has a flair for delicate work, and occasionally will craft jeweled items for loved ones.
~Goes hunting with a large party once every two to four sevendays for various large game.
Bonded Critter(s):
Type: Fire Lizard
Name: Shen
Color: Green
Color Code: B0EB6f
Age: 4 turns, late Spring
Description:
Pale and light as a dream, Shen exemplifies an airy freedom in both color of hide and form of body. From poll to tail-tip, her base color is a bright, playfully tinted pale lime-mint green, which fairly glows when oiled in the sun. That tone is rather a favorite color, and covered over with various shadings and markings across her hide. Dainty, Shen is actually bigger than she seems, and yet smaller at the same. Her thin overall structure leads her to seem on the small end of her range, yet the lithe, sinuous body is rather serpentine, and her length more than makes up for her lack of bulk.
A paler, near mint speckles Shen’s wings, looking almost like snow falling from the sky really, or the big-shinies overhead she is so fond of. The speckling tapers away into a paler, pearlescent tone on the top of her sails, though on the underside there is a deeper, almost blue-green, pale blue, mind, tone that makes the lighter color ‘pop’ a bit. Those wings are one of the seemingly dis-proportinate parts of this green, with long, thin bones whose sails are heavy near the bone, yet thinner and long away from it. This gives her a rather cute ability to spin and cavort easily, though straight flying does take a bit more of a toll as such.
A long, serpentine body is peppered with a few patches on the underside of a more yellow-green tone, none forming a distinctive shape, save for one which looks almost like a five-point star splashed over the front right paw’s top. With her body easily being as long as a browns, though much less bulked (and most of that length being her tail), Shen still doesn't have the power to last long straight flights, but can makes rather elegant moves in the air-and is dexterous on land, as well. With fine control, and strange curiosity, she often traces pictures that make no sense to any but her in the sand with her tail tip.
The only ‘dark’ green lies in a few lines on Shen’s head, one tracing a divide in a dagger-point way dead center down her nose-ride, and a couple sweeping, curvaceous lines beneath each eye and over her cheeks. Her polls, too, have an almost forest green tone that looks like a splashed bit of water, running and fading as it does into the main color of her body.
Personality:
Light, like the flutter of wings, feel your hollow voice rushing into me
Though devoted to her Savareniel, Shen is a darling little fire lizard, in whose mouth butter wouldn’t melt. Light tempered as her hide, for the most part, Shen delights in the world around her, and often shares that in a cheery voice from a perch on hers’ shoulders. She is especially adoring and curious of the Harpers, who bring news and suchlovelybright music into the Weyr, and chatter at hers until he takes her to see and hear, more often than not. Slightly coy, she usually gets her way, as she knows just how to show her bright hide at those males, especially poor hers.
Let's amend the classic story, close it so beautifully
Like hers, Shen adores exploration and adventure, turning bright eyes and willing wings to the air each day as it comes, excitement often pulling soft trills out of her throat at the potentials. Such joy translates to cheering others up, too, as she feels that with so much to wonder about and see, there is no-sorrow. Not allowed. At least, not in her presence. When someone is sad, Shen will run her head while trilling over their cheek and shoulders, as if to physically nudge them into a better mood.
To hurt you is to be despised
Nothing-harm is ever allowed to occur on this greens’ watch, either, especially not to hers. No matter what hers it is, if it is hers, she will never forgive a transgression. And, while she may forgot the act eventually, she somehow remembers the person who did bad-act quite well, and has been known to first inhale, which puffs her up (she thinks much more than it does) and then hiss, or screech, with all the power her lungs have as such. Unfortunately, she is often on hers’ shoulder at that point, so ear-guards might be a wise investment. Once the threat has been addressed, however, Shen is always quite proud of herself for being such a good defender.
All the words have now lost their weight
Because of that tendency, and that she always remembers a person, and rarely comes to trust again, especially if it was against hers, Shen reacts better to actions than to words, and is extremely sensitive to body language and posture, reacting to that above a tone of voice. Of course, if you’re shouting at herSav, there might be a problem, and you had best be prepared to deal with an angry little puffball for some time.
I'd gladly cure all that ails you inside
One of Shen’s many quirks is that she, thanks to love of Harpers, sings. Yes, she sings. In a sweet, high fire lizard voice, but she does. She uses that voice to soothe, especially when hers is having a bad night remembering his past, and will sing until he is asleep often times, especially on nights when he wakes from nightmares. It is part of the more loving side of the green, and she also uses it to draw other twolegs into their world if she decides she is bored. Of course, if those she sings near don’t pay attention, she gets a bit huffy, and starts puffing up a bit in indignation-especially the blues and browns.
So I lie in this field bathed in the light that loves me, with nothing left to lose.
Like most dragon-kin, Shen has little detailed memory of the past, but she does have a strange temporal sense of a coming future, in that sheknows inside that exciting things are constantly heading her way. Nothing is ever dull for long, yet at times an indolent nature takes over, and Shen will simply laze about, preferring to wait for something to come to –her- rather than the other way around. Her favorite past time in waiting for that nebulous good-thing to come is one of three things: being oiled for hours on end, bathing in the sea, and floating happily like a bobbin, or sunning beside the big-big-hers. (green dragons)
I'll be that waking warmth from a fading dream
Yes hers is the most important thing in her world, and from the first time she fell asleep in his arms, she’s always had a soft spot for him. Her first eye-opening is a trill at him to start the morning, and a curled tail as she ‘tells’ him all about her dreams-and woe betides him not to listen, since she has sharp teeth for scolding nips. Gentle though she is, she demands just as much love and she gives, which can be a high order, given the green’s atypical jealousy over hers.
Silence can you hear me? Press me to your lips
While loud and boisterous fun is well and good, Shen does have a need for quiet on occasion, usually in tune with hers’ needs for the same. This usually comes in the form of a light nap at his side or curiously watching as he forms some intricate jeweled piece, or works over carving or sketching something. Such tasks are enthralling or sleep-causing, depending on the time, and she gets extremely irritated when they are interrupted. If that occurs, Shen will once more puff herself up to chase away the intruder whilst scolding mightily.
Give me the disorder I adore
Like most greens, however, Shen is quite hedonistic at times, and can be rather playful. She enjoys creeping up on others to startle them, and loves to watch pranks being planned and set about her home, as long as they are not harmful. Gathers and the like, especially some sort of hatching feast etc, are real treats as well. This is both in the sheer excitement and goings’-on chaos, and in the fact that her favorite people-aside from shen- Harpers, are present at the festivities.
You will outlast my love
While young, Shen is definitely true to her nature, and flirts quite a bit with both blues and browns, whom she adores. However, the flirting and her risings are fun, but she has yet to be willing to settle for any one male, as none are quite good enough. More, since hers wont settle, she doesn’t want to either, though she doesn’t understand his reluctance to enjoy others as she does, and often has to cheep in confusion at his hesitancy and awkwardness in that regard.
All motion is pantomime
Oddly enough, one of this green’s major quirks is her adoration (probably gained from Harpers, like everything –else-) of mimicry. She will often act as one whom she enjoyed being around briefly to show whom she is thinking-imaging about, or reacting too. More, she also enjoys trying everything, even if it isn’t something fire lizard based, such as running on all fours, or attempting to bark like canines. She even tries to swim like the dolphins on occasion. This extends to food and drink, and have you ever seen a drunk fire lizard?
It’s a lot take but they wont find us.
Shen is quite enarmored of secrets, and keeps them rather well-after all, she can’t remember most after a time, and she never even hints to others unless it’s something dangerous. More so, she has a surprising tendency to stash what she considers her shinies; bright pieces of metal, stone, gems, or the like, in rather odd places. Unfortunately, she often forgets where they are, so you’d best be careful when moving things about for the first time in a while, as you never know what might be tucked away.
Hooked on a star, enraptured by the sky
Favorite of her past-times, though, is sitting outside at night as the sun sets, watching the bright-sky-shinies appear and twinkle overhead. Her eyes track them everywhere, and she can recognize a few specific ones, mainly by remembering the shiny-pictures hers knows and uses to navigate-though she does get them mixed up quite comically at times. She gathers shinies herself that sparkle like the big-unreachable-ones, and is rather possessive of them. Yet, unfortunately, this has a rather, well, strange consequence: Shen does –not- like Star Crafters, not in the least, and eyes them with a rather wary distrusts. When pressed, she translates over that she doesn’t want them stealing her shinies-even the unreachable ones overhead, and can get quite territorial as such.
Fun Facts:
~Thinks Star-Crafters will steal her big-shinies (the stars) and thus dislikes them.
~Have you ever seen a drunk fire lizard?
Craftskills:
Craft: Smith
Level of Proficiency: Journeyman
Specialty: Combination work for art, weaponry
Weakness: Tools
Type: Dragon
Name: Geveneth
Color: 4CBB17 Green
Age: Newly-Hatched (Mid-Summer)
Hatching Info: 3rd out of the Ginseng Egg, Tasseography Clutch, Trith’s by Jorguth.
Telekinetic Rating: 96
Bonuses/Minuses: (Base Roll 81) + (Green +10) + (SECRET +5)
Specialization: Precision
Breakdown:
Strength: 22
Precision: 32 (22 + 10)
Endurance: 30
Concentration: 22
Description: Every nuance of this green’s form is long, lithe, and ladylike. From her serpentine grace to her over-long tail, she is a fascinating creature to watch. And oh, does she know it and revel in it. Slightly smaller than average overall, her long form gives her a certain dexterity and flexibility that will grant her a nigh unmatched agility in the air. In the water, she will also be an adept swimmer, keeping up with the quickest and most playful of animals with ease. Geveneth is a green who makes an effort to make every movement seem like a work of art. When she isn’t slinking or twirling along, she can often be found posed in a regal, lady-like manner more reminiscent of her golden sisters.
Oh, but don’t get her wrong - she’s just as playful as the next dragon. For all her girlish charm, she’s more than capable of keeping up with the boys in most (non-stamina based) instances. In fact, she’ll probably find herself much more comfortable in the company of males even before she reaches maturity, enjoying the play of mischievous half-flirting that will crackle around her lovely self. And while not much of one for squabbles or competitions, she’ll happily participate in any game her fellows can think up.
While most of her form is covered in a pale, minty green hue, she is far from bland. Dappling of a brighter apple green appears along the finer points of her body, along with a stripe down her nose. Her wings slide into a leafier green over their musculature, with the wingsails that oddly beautiful mixture of dappled mint and apple green. Along her nose, the tops of her wings, and down her spine to her tailtip are an odd smattering of little purple freckles, about an inch in diameter each and almost resembling the flowers of the deeper jungles in their play along her hide. Running down each of her limbs are similar freckles, only here a vibrant red in color that will gradually fade into a purple shade that rings her black claws. While it may not seem so when she’s gleaming in the light, she’ll actually be quite adept at hiding herself among the multicolored floral hues of the shady jungle.
Personality: To say that Geveneth likes the males of her species is...a very large understatement. In fact, she’s probably one of the cuddliest, flirtiest greens to be found. She’s not much of a sultry type, though, more bounding into the energetic and playful side of the game. She’ll have no problem sidling up to the most uptight of dragons and teasing until she gets an appreciative response from him. Her favorites are the ones that are hard to crack and the ones that can play right back in her game.
Full of energy, there will never be a dull moment in her Rider’s life with this green around. Lazing on a ledge is nice and all, but she could soak up just as much sun playing on the beach, or taking a refreshing dip in the ocean. A love of all that is bright and vibrant and living dwells within this green, marking her as quite the optimist in even the bleakest of situations. While she can be serious when it is desperately needed, she much prefers to take up the more playful side of any situation. Even if it is sarcastic or morbid, she will find an ‘upside’ in anything. Despite the glares it might earn her at times, she quite enjoys adding a bit of comic relief to every situation. Hers might have to curb this habit a bit to make it a bit more workable in social mediums, but eventually she will grow into that one being that others will flock to when they need a bit of light in their lives.
Despite her vibrance in her flirtations, she can actually be somewhat demure when a male shows real interest. As much as she enjoys the occasional dalliance, she’ll make a male work to court her as a mate - especially as a weyrmate. The more sincere the advance, the more coyly sweet she will show herself as. In contrast to what would seem her nature due to her constant Flights, she’s actually a very loyal dragon, and will stand fast to any decision she makes - including mates.
Fun Facts:
- She will Rise in mating Flight more often than the average green, between 5-8 times a turn instead of the usual 4.
Name: Lothy
Are you 17+?: Yes
Contact Information:
AIM: Nekonokuroyami
Email: Lothyna@gmail.com
Past RP Experience: Not listing agaiiiiin. <3
Character:
Name:
Age: 19
Gender: Male
Sexual Orientation: Homosexual
Occupation: Smithcraft Journeyman
Description:
Often coming off as of no concern, since he’s both so shy and not really bulked, Sa'niel is usually dismissed as unthreatening. This would be a mistake, since though young, Sa'niel has both grace and power, gained through work and care. Instead of being built with stocky muscles, he is slim with corded muscles from work at the forge, time spent running, and riding a favored young stallion he trained. Various hunting trips and further work to provide money for food and lodging keep him fit, even after shifting from spending most of his time in the Hall to time in the various woods and forests.
While a great many people are taller, Sa'niel is still of a decent height, coming midrange to about 5’ 4”, with an even proportion between legs and chest, giving him a sturdy center of balance that is rather useful in fights, though he’s not very graceful when dancing. That could just be from lack of practice, but he often seems as a stiff as a wooden board-and has enough muscle to imitate it, too.
With sturdy limbs, however, Sa'niel is able to accomplish most of his life on his own, and has to work to keep them so since most of his work is dangerous in some form or another, and leads to many scars. His legs are the most obvious point, the corded muscles strong from running and riding, and covered in a fair amount of fine and not so slim scars. These are proof of his battles in the wilderness and time in the forge, let alone learning to fight under his Master and friends.
Long hair is a style he’s adapted over the past few years, since about midway though his tenure as an apprentice. It falls to the bottom end of his shoulder blades, maybe an inch or two past, and is a rich, deep brown, with softer auburn highlights from time spent in the sun. Thankfully moderately thick, Sa'niel tends to keep his hair down unless he’s on a trip for pelts or in the forge. In those cases is where it is often tied back with a stamped and wrought silver clasp he made mid-way through his time as an apprentice of Smith Craft.
Amber eyes are the truly unique thing for Sa'niel, though, and set him apart from most once they get a good look. Akin to the warning tone of fire lizards, dragons, and whers, they tend to offset most people-which suits him just fine. Slightly slanted, though not much- they are framed by heavy dark lashes, under arched brows that hint at Sa'niel’s general good humor.
A nose which looks to have been broken at least once, slightly crooked, sits above full lips and a stubborn jaw, the underside of which bears a fine thin scar, from an accident with hot wire-thin metal in the forge. Sturdy, strong hands are deft none-the-less, and bear many scars from the forge and tumbles in the wild. The largest scar he holds is across a hip, from an accident in training with live steel, and is a poignant reminder that he needs to watch his surroundings as well.
Personality:
Straight up is how you'll see me stand
With a strong sense of duty ingrained from birth and furthered in his craft, Sa'niel is more than willing to take the world on, especially in pursuit of laws and equality. In truth, this is a must for him, especially given his skills and supplies. Unwilling to stand aside and watch another be harmed, this young man is rather likely to charge straight into the fray, and lick his wounds in private later. Children and animals inspire the greatest devotion in this young man.
Will you believe in me tonight
Strong of heart and devoted to the few he values closely, Sa'niel is willingly loyal to those who return the favor. While it is never a blind loyalty, he will always give the benefit of the doubt. He has no problems listening to the problems of other and attempting to aid them. This loyalty was both trained and innate to him, though once broken it is never re-granted, as breaking it involves heinous acts.
The flowers turned to Grey
When a trust so whole and endearing in it’s purity is broken, little remains but the ashes of a shattered faith. Though few people ever push Sa'niel to this degree, once his rage has passed, the sorrow of betrayal lingers, especially for those who were closely trusted once. It is hard to forsake someone close, even when acts are committed that are beyond redemption, and given a hidden sensitive nature, doubly so for Sa'niel.
I've got the cure when passive protest just won't do
Given his tendencies and raising, it is not surprising that Sa'niel is a being of action rather than words more than half the time. If things take too long, he’s highly likely to make a rash, impulsive decision without thought for his health to enact what needs to occur-he’s definitely of the mind that it is easier to beg forgiveness than ask permission. While tolerant to a degree, his impatience can get the best of him, and makes life with the young weapons-smith interesting, at the least.
Break down and cease all feeling, burn now what was once breathing
Far from flawless, Sa'niel has his tempers and moods, and a strong dislike of being passive and waiting for events to occur. At times sullen in remembrance of past losses, he can sink into quite the ‘blue funk’. While Shen can usually bring him back to peace at least, ware getting in his way is the snippy-ness still abounds. Though an apology usually follows such events, it may be some time in coming. That and his sorrows weigh the young man down as they do many, and such time often lead him to seek solitude or a fight, be it in the jungles or with other humans.
The wood it whispers in a language of it's own
With a love of nature and animals, it should come as no surprise that Sa'niel loves the woods, the jungle, the forests. He often seeks his fortunes there, spending days at a time tracking various animals, gathering edible foods and procuring hides. He makes his livelihood there, not just at the forges. The peace of the trees brings him a peace not found elsewhere, which lingers for some time after, easing the rough edges of his personality for a time.
All the words that you’d unsay
Regret over past mistakes and lives lost is ever a part of this generation, and it lies true for Sa'nial. With the loss of his older brother and mentor, one to illness, the other to wounds sustained in Threadfall, there was a darkening of Sa'niel’s spirit. A part of him will always mourn the loss of the two men he admired, and he regrets the fights and losses. Every remembrance of them forces a tempering now of his actions, lest he once again make the mistake of saying something he’d be unable to take back, leave another friend or partner in anger for a possibly last time.
I remain in shadows growing wings
Shy, after years of being mostly alone at work or in the woods, Sa'niel prefers to avoid large gatherings for the most part, usually unsure of himself in the company of many. While not terrified into stillness by others, at least, Sa'niel would rather be in the quiet of the forest than a gather, and can be awkward around unknown people, unless he himself is in a stall to sell his wares, or with close friends and able to relax. Shen is a constant soothing presence at these times.
We can burn it and leave For we are the beautiful thieves
When it comes to his skills and abilities, Sa'niel is rather proud, as he has worked hard to become what he is. Years of training have paid off, and like most young things, he can be brash, though he knows, after many scrapes, that immortality is a young fallacy. Still, he also gets possessive, especially of his designs, and is rather protective of what he considers his. This possessiveness isn’t extreme, especially not with people, though he never allows anyone to touch the two strap buckles he keeps hidden in his things, mementos of D’el and Z’ch.
Press your lips to the sculptures, And surely you'll stay
While attractive to a fair amount due to his lithe build and hair, not to mention the eyes, Sa'niel is rather aloof from the common fling. This is due in part to his shyness, and also to his love of solitude and privacy. Few can or want to keep up with him, and he doesn’t really want to be tied down, though a part of him longs for the companionship and perhaps love of others, he has yet to find such or create or claim it for himself.
I'll make it worth your while just let me taste the sky.
Yet, despite the flaws, Sa'niel has a heart of gold, when captured. Easily proven in the love given to the deceased ‘family’ he had, and to his beloved green fire lizard, Shen, he can and will give unselfishly to one who entraps his curiosity, lust, and friendship to this degree, however uncommon it may be. That is the kind of love he longs for, and will likely accept nothing less.
History:
A story of crushed velvet, candle wax, and dried up flowers
Like most weyrbrats, Savareniel was the product of a green-flight, son of bronze rider T’reen of Romafellth, and green rider Une of Ozeth. Left to the communal raising of the Fort Weyr with others in the crèche, Savareniel grew apart from family quickly, though he formed a couple of close ties with two other boys, both older than himself. This distance of his parents never bothered him, and he certainly didn’t mind being raised by everyone, since he quickly learned how to avoid getting caught causing trouble-courtesy of Zech and Daniel, and who to turn to if he was hurt beyond childish scrapes.
Once he was old enough, namely to walk, Savareniel, called Sav by most, tagged everywhere at the heels of his two ‘big brothers’, Zech and Daniel, including to the hatchings. Empathic, more so than some other chosen candidates, the young boy loved the hatchings, and attended first Zech’s’, then Daniel’s. Watching them find a partner on the sands, and hearing from them every detail of what it was like, what happened in training, gave the young boy hopes and dreams for years. Their partnering, Z’ch to a young, lithe bronze-Tallgeeth, and D’el to a stout blue, Tauruth, left a lasting impression. The two new Weyrlings, and into their Riding years, taught Sav everything they knew, which was not limited to dragon-kind alone.
Under their tutelage, Savareniel learned several fighting styles to defend himself from others in the crèche or outside the Weyr, since even then he was effeminate. When not with D’el and Z’ch, Savareniel spent a great deal of his time exploring all over the Weyr, and the lands nearby when he could sneak away, curious as a cat even as a toddling babe. Those explorations helped build the basis for a runner’s build later, and cemented his love of the unknown.
I held a fallen star and it wept for me
When Savareniel was 9 turns old, he suffered the first let down of his life, and one of the most poignant. During threadfall, Savareniel had been curled in the caves, watching the sky above the bowl as was his habit, in case of his ‘family’ getting injured, and to lend a hand where he could to get injured riders numbweed and bandages. As he darted back inside after handing off some of the supplies to an injured green, some instinct made the young boy pause, heart in throat, as he heard an eerie keen rip through the Weyr. Somehow, though it was over in an instant, he heard two conflicting voices. Even as he felt the rarely heard brassy voice of Tallgeeth scream a warning, he heard the anguished, wordless cry of Tauruth as D’el was enveloped in thread.
Later, Z’ch would brokenly recount how they’d miss-guagued a skip between, and D’el had brought himself and Tauruth back into the path of a clump, unavoidable. The tragedy horrified Sav, who spent several weeks hiding in Z’ch’s Weyr, silent and morose at the loss of his brother, the only fatality of that fall, or one recent. Each time Z’ch went out, he stayed hidden, each time slowly losing some fear as they returned unscathed.
There are no flowers, no not this time
During his ninth turn, Sav was allowed to attend the hatchings, and each time felt a piece of him wither, as, though to young to be a candidate, and watching from the stands, he saw others impress the great dragons, and was reminded of D’el, and his early dreams. He’d overheard the Creche-Mother mention that no dragon had found a trace of search-potential in him, and understood more and more each time that it was a forgone dream. Around his tenth turn, Savareniel started spending more time with the visiting craft journeymen than learning more about dragons, with Z'ch's consent.
Deciding that he really enjoyed and liked learning from one in particular, Sav sought the journeyman he’d been spending time learning about metals and other fighting styles from, who’d offered to take him from the Weyr to the Hall. Since he had some aptitude, and no obvious potential, it was allowed on the condition that he was returned to stand at the future clutches just in case-since he was the son of a strong bronze rider, he was expected to have a potential of some sort, perhaps not matured enough yet to be shown.
Grabbing the opportunity with both hands, Savareniel willingly left the Weyr, glad to escape the site of memories that hurt, and the constant press of thread. The Hall offered a chance at new skills and a new life, without the failures hinted at amid the riders for his apparent lacks-of which there seemed to be several more often than not.
So I left my home, took a whole new name.
Once apprenticed at the Hall, Savareniel found his passion to lie in two areas within the hall, and a couple without, all of which were encouraged. Within the hall, Sav devoted his time to weapon-crafting, including the detail work when he was older, and to the crafting of wires for artistic pieces of jewelry. In his spare time he spent hours learning more fighting styles, especially those using blades (which he himself had often crafted). Learning that helped him learn why certain techniques were mandatory, and where the strength of the crafting needed to excel for use.
Outside the hall, he’d taken up briefly with a couple Beast Craft Apprentices, and spent some time learning tricks from them-mainly on handling hides and pelts, and training animals. Specifically, the runners, which he was coming to adore. Useful and friendly, he spent much of his time not occupied with his craft watching them, and saving and scraping his marks to purchase one.
Intermittent hatchings at Fort during his pre- and early teenage years forced a resurfacing pain as he was left standing time and again, and the rumors to his unfitness grew-especially from jealous, younger candidates wanting to shine, when he’d been left behind so often. Each time did bring one bright spot, however, and that was time spent with Z’ch, reminiscing and reinforcing their friendship and ties. Z’ch’s helped him acquire the marks to pay for the breeding of two equines of his choice for the foal he wanted, and supported his thoughts on spending his time exploring, since many areas were still wild and untamed or unknown.
The sky had come crashing down like the news of an intimate suicide.
When Savareniel was sixteen, the second tremor rocked his world as Z’ch too, was taken. He’d learned only a few months prior that the bronze-rider was transferred to Silver Cove Weyr, removing a friend from close proximity-which also meant he put his foot down about returning to further hatchings. He had better things to do. But in that transfer was the problem-right then, unknown, struck the disease that cost so many lives, and Z’ch was one of the first to fall to it. The last thing he heard from the bronze Tallgeeth was interspersed ramblings, full of undecipherable pleas, before it stopped. He knew, even as it was a seven-day before he learned from a message, that Z’ch was gone-and his last tie to the Weyr.
This loss became a silent burden that he spoke of only to his master, and only in passing. Most of the young man’s grief turned into time spent at the forge, when not watching over the newborn foal, a final gift to him. The young foal was a brilliant golden red, with stark black socks, and a brilliant cream mane and tail. A single black stripe covered the right side of his face, making him a rather endearing youngster, quickly named Paxars. Between his craft and schooling his mount, who was a cross between a sprinter and a draft, to create a fine heavy endurance riding mount, Savareniel soon was working past the stubborn wound of loss, even if it would not leave entirely.
My solidarity now only comes in pairs
Shortly before turning seventeen, and well into his craft by the time, Sav was gifted from his master a tiny fire lizard egg, from his own queens’ clutch. The gift was a joy to young Savareniel, and a fear-dragons found him unsuitable, how would a fire lizard differ? Still, the aged Master had become almost a father figure, and he had no desire to refuse such a treasure. Further, his master knew his love of exploration and solitude, hunting and working. He claimed the gift would allow him to stay in touch, and summon help if needed. Unable to argue, Sav found himself truly thankful, for the gift included an allowance that he would be welcome to come and go from the hall as he pleased, once he attained the status of journeyman.
Within a week of constant watching the egg in sands left by his forge, the shell started to move and crack. Anxious nights and days faded away as the pieces of the egg fell, bit by bit pried free by the creature within. A claw here, a flash of hide there, and a few minutes later, a hungry, creeling green gem, coated in egg goo, was ravenously devouring meat strips from Sav’s hand as her wings and body dried, carefully wiped once sated with damp cloths, then oil. Years of listening to Z’ch and D’el paid off, as the little green, named Shen, blossomed under his care, and the tentative bond deepened, giving Sav a sense of what he’d missed out on.
Still, her companionship gave him pride and love, and a source of comfort on nights where memories of the deaths of his family haunted him. As she grew, Savareniel grew into his body and craft, becoming a Journeyman just before Shen’s first flight. His time at the hall had honed him into a strong young man, and he never regretted the choice to leave Fort Weyr behind. Paxars, too, was grown and trained, and he’d saved enough to outfit himself, especially as he could make his own weapons for the hunts and explorations he intended to go on now.
Velvet Burns Wrists While Restraining
A trip via boat took Savareniel, Shen, and Paxars down to the Southern Continent, dropping them near the Weyr. From there, the trio set out on their own, staking out and mapping the land holding a cave at the outskirts of one of the holds, and carefully hunting the animals in the area, tanning each hide and pelt with care, and picking the ones which were fine in color or texture especially. Some Sav kept for himself in a cave he was making into a home, and some were sold for necessary food and tools. Amid the bustle of settling in, Sav watched Shen grow, and enjoyed her cavorting antics with the wild fairs.
Mid-summer, however, Savareniel found himself-thankfully home in the evening, and secure, in a unique position. In the trials of settling into a new place, he’d forgotten that Shen was mature-and that the fire lizards had flights just as the dragons did. Her first flight, that night, was a poignant experience of lust and need as she led wild blues, browns, and a couple of bronzes, on a crazy, whirlwind flight. The resultant clutch would never be found, but Sav would also never forget the insane need, and the desire for other, human company brought on by it. He knew, well and good, that he preferred his own gender at that point-it had been a reason he’d left the more populous areas, since most people still frowned on that outside of the Weyrs.
Hidden away, he’d held himself aloof from encounters of that nature, and it was both a blessing and a curse, since he was to experience several more flights, each time locked inside with only himself to ease the strain-also by his own choice. That kind of tie was impossible to desire and sustain for the most part, given his adoration of the wild and dangerous lifestyle-forging weapons, hunting, and living alone. While he did interact with others for the feline hunts, he spent most of the rest of the time trapping smaller animals himself, providing food and the materials for repairs to his clothing and Paxars tack.
This is a lonely war tonight, with soldiers breaking
Yet solitude in the following year bothered him little, and every sevenday he would send Shen back to the hall, occasionally asking for transport to sell some furs, mostly letting his master know he lived. At times, too, he’d send a message to S’ren, a friend he’d made while an apprentice, and got her to join him for a day or so in the sun, when her duties permitted. She was the one person aside from the Master he trained under to see him without masks, and to accept his proclivities.
Still, at the end of the first year, Sav could admit, if only to himself, that despite his cave beind a home, and the love he had for Shen, the south, and Paxars, he was, at times, lonely. The memories of Z’ch and D’el haunted him more, especially as he received news of a reason found, after many more deaths, and thread continued to fall. By that point he had sent another message to S’ren, begging companionship for a time, and help selling the newest pelts-with a promise of a gift to her.
In Game Events:
~Searched by S'ren of Feynth
~Helped defend against Silver Cove
~Tried to flee hatching, was bitten in the butt by Shen, and kidnapped by Feynth again.
~Impressed Geveneth, and fell in love.
Fun Facts:
~knows enough Beast Craft to train a equine, which he has done, and to care for hides of his kills.
~Knows enough field medicine to patch himself until he can get to a Healer if things go wrong.
~Spent extensive time not only crafting but learning to use weapons.
~Has a flair for delicate work, and occasionally will craft jeweled items for loved ones.
~Goes hunting with a large party once every two to four sevendays for various large game.
Bonded Critter(s):
Type: Fire Lizard
Name: Shen
Color: Green
Color Code: B0EB6f
Age: 4 turns, late Spring
Description:
Pale and light as a dream, Shen exemplifies an airy freedom in both color of hide and form of body. From poll to tail-tip, her base color is a bright, playfully tinted pale lime-mint green, which fairly glows when oiled in the sun. That tone is rather a favorite color, and covered over with various shadings and markings across her hide. Dainty, Shen is actually bigger than she seems, and yet smaller at the same. Her thin overall structure leads her to seem on the small end of her range, yet the lithe, sinuous body is rather serpentine, and her length more than makes up for her lack of bulk.
A paler, near mint speckles Shen’s wings, looking almost like snow falling from the sky really, or the big-shinies overhead she is so fond of. The speckling tapers away into a paler, pearlescent tone on the top of her sails, though on the underside there is a deeper, almost blue-green, pale blue, mind, tone that makes the lighter color ‘pop’ a bit. Those wings are one of the seemingly dis-proportinate parts of this green, with long, thin bones whose sails are heavy near the bone, yet thinner and long away from it. This gives her a rather cute ability to spin and cavort easily, though straight flying does take a bit more of a toll as such.
A long, serpentine body is peppered with a few patches on the underside of a more yellow-green tone, none forming a distinctive shape, save for one which looks almost like a five-point star splashed over the front right paw’s top. With her body easily being as long as a browns, though much less bulked (and most of that length being her tail), Shen still doesn't have the power to last long straight flights, but can makes rather elegant moves in the air-and is dexterous on land, as well. With fine control, and strange curiosity, she often traces pictures that make no sense to any but her in the sand with her tail tip.
The only ‘dark’ green lies in a few lines on Shen’s head, one tracing a divide in a dagger-point way dead center down her nose-ride, and a couple sweeping, curvaceous lines beneath each eye and over her cheeks. Her polls, too, have an almost forest green tone that looks like a splashed bit of water, running and fading as it does into the main color of her body.
Personality:
Light, like the flutter of wings, feel your hollow voice rushing into me
Though devoted to her Savareniel, Shen is a darling little fire lizard, in whose mouth butter wouldn’t melt. Light tempered as her hide, for the most part, Shen delights in the world around her, and often shares that in a cheery voice from a perch on hers’ shoulders. She is especially adoring and curious of the Harpers, who bring news and suchlovelybright music into the Weyr, and chatter at hers until he takes her to see and hear, more often than not. Slightly coy, she usually gets her way, as she knows just how to show her bright hide at those males, especially poor hers.
Let's amend the classic story, close it so beautifully
Like hers, Shen adores exploration and adventure, turning bright eyes and willing wings to the air each day as it comes, excitement often pulling soft trills out of her throat at the potentials. Such joy translates to cheering others up, too, as she feels that with so much to wonder about and see, there is no-sorrow. Not allowed. At least, not in her presence. When someone is sad, Shen will run her head while trilling over their cheek and shoulders, as if to physically nudge them into a better mood.
To hurt you is to be despised
Nothing-harm is ever allowed to occur on this greens’ watch, either, especially not to hers. No matter what hers it is, if it is hers, she will never forgive a transgression. And, while she may forgot the act eventually, she somehow remembers the person who did bad-act quite well, and has been known to first inhale, which puffs her up (she thinks much more than it does) and then hiss, or screech, with all the power her lungs have as such. Unfortunately, she is often on hers’ shoulder at that point, so ear-guards might be a wise investment. Once the threat has been addressed, however, Shen is always quite proud of herself for being such a good defender.
All the words have now lost their weight
Because of that tendency, and that she always remembers a person, and rarely comes to trust again, especially if it was against hers, Shen reacts better to actions than to words, and is extremely sensitive to body language and posture, reacting to that above a tone of voice. Of course, if you’re shouting at herSav, there might be a problem, and you had best be prepared to deal with an angry little puffball for some time.
I'd gladly cure all that ails you inside
One of Shen’s many quirks is that she, thanks to love of Harpers, sings. Yes, she sings. In a sweet, high fire lizard voice, but she does. She uses that voice to soothe, especially when hers is having a bad night remembering his past, and will sing until he is asleep often times, especially on nights when he wakes from nightmares. It is part of the more loving side of the green, and she also uses it to draw other twolegs into their world if she decides she is bored. Of course, if those she sings near don’t pay attention, she gets a bit huffy, and starts puffing up a bit in indignation-especially the blues and browns.
So I lie in this field bathed in the light that loves me, with nothing left to lose.
Like most dragon-kin, Shen has little detailed memory of the past, but she does have a strange temporal sense of a coming future, in that sheknows inside that exciting things are constantly heading her way. Nothing is ever dull for long, yet at times an indolent nature takes over, and Shen will simply laze about, preferring to wait for something to come to –her- rather than the other way around. Her favorite past time in waiting for that nebulous good-thing to come is one of three things: being oiled for hours on end, bathing in the sea, and floating happily like a bobbin, or sunning beside the big-big-hers. (green dragons)
I'll be that waking warmth from a fading dream
Yes hers is the most important thing in her world, and from the first time she fell asleep in his arms, she’s always had a soft spot for him. Her first eye-opening is a trill at him to start the morning, and a curled tail as she ‘tells’ him all about her dreams-and woe betides him not to listen, since she has sharp teeth for scolding nips. Gentle though she is, she demands just as much love and she gives, which can be a high order, given the green’s atypical jealousy over hers.
Silence can you hear me? Press me to your lips
While loud and boisterous fun is well and good, Shen does have a need for quiet on occasion, usually in tune with hers’ needs for the same. This usually comes in the form of a light nap at his side or curiously watching as he forms some intricate jeweled piece, or works over carving or sketching something. Such tasks are enthralling or sleep-causing, depending on the time, and she gets extremely irritated when they are interrupted. If that occurs, Shen will once more puff herself up to chase away the intruder whilst scolding mightily.
Give me the disorder I adore
Like most greens, however, Shen is quite hedonistic at times, and can be rather playful. She enjoys creeping up on others to startle them, and loves to watch pranks being planned and set about her home, as long as they are not harmful. Gathers and the like, especially some sort of hatching feast etc, are real treats as well. This is both in the sheer excitement and goings’-on chaos, and in the fact that her favorite people-aside from shen- Harpers, are present at the festivities.
You will outlast my love
While young, Shen is definitely true to her nature, and flirts quite a bit with both blues and browns, whom she adores. However, the flirting and her risings are fun, but she has yet to be willing to settle for any one male, as none are quite good enough. More, since hers wont settle, she doesn’t want to either, though she doesn’t understand his reluctance to enjoy others as she does, and often has to cheep in confusion at his hesitancy and awkwardness in that regard.
All motion is pantomime
Oddly enough, one of this green’s major quirks is her adoration (probably gained from Harpers, like everything –else-) of mimicry. She will often act as one whom she enjoyed being around briefly to show whom she is thinking-imaging about, or reacting too. More, she also enjoys trying everything, even if it isn’t something fire lizard based, such as running on all fours, or attempting to bark like canines. She even tries to swim like the dolphins on occasion. This extends to food and drink, and have you ever seen a drunk fire lizard?
It’s a lot take but they wont find us.
Shen is quite enarmored of secrets, and keeps them rather well-after all, she can’t remember most after a time, and she never even hints to others unless it’s something dangerous. More so, she has a surprising tendency to stash what she considers her shinies; bright pieces of metal, stone, gems, or the like, in rather odd places. Unfortunately, she often forgets where they are, so you’d best be careful when moving things about for the first time in a while, as you never know what might be tucked away.
Hooked on a star, enraptured by the sky
Favorite of her past-times, though, is sitting outside at night as the sun sets, watching the bright-sky-shinies appear and twinkle overhead. Her eyes track them everywhere, and she can recognize a few specific ones, mainly by remembering the shiny-pictures hers knows and uses to navigate-though she does get them mixed up quite comically at times. She gathers shinies herself that sparkle like the big-unreachable-ones, and is rather possessive of them. Yet, unfortunately, this has a rather, well, strange consequence: Shen does –not- like Star Crafters, not in the least, and eyes them with a rather wary distrusts. When pressed, she translates over that she doesn’t want them stealing her shinies-even the unreachable ones overhead, and can get quite territorial as such.
Fun Facts:
~Thinks Star-Crafters will steal her big-shinies (the stars) and thus dislikes them.
~Have you ever seen a drunk fire lizard?
Craftskills:
Craft: Smith
Level of Proficiency: Journeyman
Specialty: Combination work for art, weaponry
Weakness: Tools
Type: Dragon
Name: Geveneth
Color: 4CBB17 Green
Age: Newly-Hatched (Mid-Summer)
Hatching Info: 3rd out of the Ginseng Egg, Tasseography Clutch, Trith’s by Jorguth.
Telekinetic Rating: 96
Bonuses/Minuses: (Base Roll 81) + (Green +10) + (SECRET +5)
Specialization: Precision
Breakdown:
Strength: 22
Precision: 32 (22 + 10)
Endurance: 30
Concentration: 22
Description: Every nuance of this green’s form is long, lithe, and ladylike. From her serpentine grace to her over-long tail, she is a fascinating creature to watch. And oh, does she know it and revel in it. Slightly smaller than average overall, her long form gives her a certain dexterity and flexibility that will grant her a nigh unmatched agility in the air. In the water, she will also be an adept swimmer, keeping up with the quickest and most playful of animals with ease. Geveneth is a green who makes an effort to make every movement seem like a work of art. When she isn’t slinking or twirling along, she can often be found posed in a regal, lady-like manner more reminiscent of her golden sisters.
Oh, but don’t get her wrong - she’s just as playful as the next dragon. For all her girlish charm, she’s more than capable of keeping up with the boys in most (non-stamina based) instances. In fact, she’ll probably find herself much more comfortable in the company of males even before she reaches maturity, enjoying the play of mischievous half-flirting that will crackle around her lovely self. And while not much of one for squabbles or competitions, she’ll happily participate in any game her fellows can think up.
While most of her form is covered in a pale, minty green hue, she is far from bland. Dappling of a brighter apple green appears along the finer points of her body, along with a stripe down her nose. Her wings slide into a leafier green over their musculature, with the wingsails that oddly beautiful mixture of dappled mint and apple green. Along her nose, the tops of her wings, and down her spine to her tailtip are an odd smattering of little purple freckles, about an inch in diameter each and almost resembling the flowers of the deeper jungles in their play along her hide. Running down each of her limbs are similar freckles, only here a vibrant red in color that will gradually fade into a purple shade that rings her black claws. While it may not seem so when she’s gleaming in the light, she’ll actually be quite adept at hiding herself among the multicolored floral hues of the shady jungle.
Personality: To say that Geveneth likes the males of her species is...a very large understatement. In fact, she’s probably one of the cuddliest, flirtiest greens to be found. She’s not much of a sultry type, though, more bounding into the energetic and playful side of the game. She’ll have no problem sidling up to the most uptight of dragons and teasing until she gets an appreciative response from him. Her favorites are the ones that are hard to crack and the ones that can play right back in her game.
Full of energy, there will never be a dull moment in her Rider’s life with this green around. Lazing on a ledge is nice and all, but she could soak up just as much sun playing on the beach, or taking a refreshing dip in the ocean. A love of all that is bright and vibrant and living dwells within this green, marking her as quite the optimist in even the bleakest of situations. While she can be serious when it is desperately needed, she much prefers to take up the more playful side of any situation. Even if it is sarcastic or morbid, she will find an ‘upside’ in anything. Despite the glares it might earn her at times, she quite enjoys adding a bit of comic relief to every situation. Hers might have to curb this habit a bit to make it a bit more workable in social mediums, but eventually she will grow into that one being that others will flock to when they need a bit of light in their lives.
Despite her vibrance in her flirtations, she can actually be somewhat demure when a male shows real interest. As much as she enjoys the occasional dalliance, she’ll make a male work to court her as a mate - especially as a weyrmate. The more sincere the advance, the more coyly sweet she will show herself as. In contrast to what would seem her nature due to her constant Flights, she’s actually a very loyal dragon, and will stand fast to any decision she makes - including mates.
Fun Facts:
- She will Rise in mating Flight more often than the average green, between 5-8 times a turn instead of the usual 4.
