Post by Rei on Sept 25, 2010 23:29:22 GMT -5
Died in Sleep, Poisoned in thread 'Love you to Death'
Humans:
Name: Z’ves (Previously Zerves)
Age: 26
Gender: Male
Sexual Orientation: No preference, All are simply victims
Rank: Wingrider
Birthday: June 10th
Base = Matt Cohen
Physical Appearance:
Z’ves stands at a height of 5’ 10” not the tallest man but far from the shortest either. His build is pretty much exactly what you would expect from a dragon rider. All wiry hard muscle with not an ounce of fat to be found on his frame. The man is extremely flexible and his lean muscle gives him a surprising amount of strength. At least enough for his purposes. His skin tone is pale although time spent in the sun will probably quickly remedy this. Lucky for Z’ves he is the type to tan easily instead of burn. This skin is far from unmarked numerous scars mark his torso although it seems he is lucky in the fact that not many of them are horribly prominent or ugly looking. Instead they only add to his attractive rugged appearance.
The young bluerider sports a head of close cropped black hair and closet pale blue eyes that seemingly lack any warmth at all. His jaw is strong and almost square in shape and one would not be lying if they described him as extremely handsome. He always keeps himself very clean and seems to have a knack for making himself look good in anything. As far as clothing goes while in the north he favored leather and fur lined things. Now in the south he is often missing a shirt or wearing a tight sleeveless or open one which displays his scars and musculature quite nicely for all to see. As far as weapons go he most often carries both a short belt knife and other hidden weapons with him.
Personality:
Very much the wolf in disguise. Z’ves is not at all what he appears to be. Upon first meeting one will find a quiet, smiling, caring personality. The kind most people jump to befriend. The bluerider is well practiced in getting people to trust him. A soft hand and a listening ear are the tools of his trade. Gaining the trust of others is quite easy for him and he very good at playing the best friend. The rock that will always be there not matter what. But this is all a carefully crafted ruse. Z’ves is anything but friendly. You see inwardly he is cynical, mean, and downright psychotic.
Once he has befriended you Z’ves’ true colors start to show. But not right away. He likes to have his victims nicely wrapped up emotionally in him before he begins his work. Woman and the homosexual population of the weyr are his preferred and normally only targets and he loves to break them slowly. Once he knows your deepest darkest secrets it’s easy you see. Easy to get this victims to do whatever he wants. He is controlling to the extreme, abusive both mentally and physically and he thrives on making his new ‘friend’ or ‘lover’ feel worthless, hurt, and completely inadequate. He controls his victims with an iron fist and any rebellion from them is taken care of with swift beatings or threats. In lovemaking he is vicious and self serving and one might as well call it rape or sexual abuse for it could hardly be called much else.
Once he has set his sights on someone sadly Z’ves will continue in his torture until his victim is either so broken they can barely function or until they take their own life in a desire to escape. For you see even if you succeed in breaking off from him you are never free. Normally his victims have mental issues so deep that they may never fully recover and Z’ves prides himself on this fact. He covets the belongings of his ‘lovers’ and for each person he has had a dealing with he has a particular object that was once theirs. This helps him ‘revisit’ previous conquests and he keeps a collection of them stashed in his weyr. The most precious of which are displayed proudly and without fear. Who would dare take them after all?
History:
Zerves was born to greenrider Zerviana in 2989. Not wanting anything to do with the babe he was passed off to the creche as soon as he was weaned. His father was an unknown. Likely a flight partner. The boy was raised mainly by the creche staff. His childhood was anything but happy. Attention deprived and for the most part ignored he was an extremely fussy child and that only made him undesirable to the creche workers. He was always crying about something, always whimpering, very demanding. It didn’t go well for him until one particular worker took and interest in the boy. Even then saying it was an improvement would not exactly be true.
Her name was Rian and she had just lost her second child, not being able to carry them to term. It was Zerves she attached herself to. However her version of love was wildly different from most people. Pain and grief had hardened her and Zerves was loved just as much as he was also beaten. Growing up this way the boy quickly learned how to avoid a beating by being resourceful. Trickery and the careful concealing of any emotion became his shield.
As Zerves grew he became the terror of the creche and the younger boys. It was he they looked to for approval, he they loved and yet feared, and he loved the power he had over them. Rian, not so happy about how her son was turning out became increasingly violent with the boy, until one night when Zerves was twelve he took her life. Stabbing her in her sleep and thus freeing himself. With the current atmosphere at Benden Rian’s death was pretty much over looked. Chalked up to a chance run in with a rider. She was female and weyrfolk not much of a loss. Two month’s after Rian’s death Zerves looked into becoming a candidate. He was accepted and while in the barracks he mostly kept to his best behavior subtly ‘playing’ with his fellow classmates and finding a love for breaking them in one way or another. Thus an obsession based on control was born. Their lives and happiness where his to keep and thus, his to take away. Whatever the boy chose.
He stood only a few times before, at the age of fourteen, a green pinned him to the sand. Her claws ripping gouges in his chest. A small blue hatchling stalked the sands and came to his rescue. Mutilating his clutch sister’s face in retribution. An ichor stained maw bumped against Zerves’ chest then tongue coming out to lap at his wounds. She should have known better than to insult you my Z’ves. Your Lucith does not approve. Now she can remember everyday the folly that was hers. Lucith was a violent and controlling entity. However the blue had met his match in the boy he sought to claim. In the end it was Z’ves who controlled. The dragonet quickly learned through pain and mental trauma that it was he who belonged, not Z’ves. When he obeyed he was given snatches of approval and perhaps an inkling of love and Lucith took with relish what he was given.
Weyrling training continued apace. Lucith and Z’ves quickly rising in notoriety. The blue’s smaller size and vicious attitude, and Z’ves cold ruthlessness quickly earning the pair a place in a fighting wing upon graduation. It wasn't a bad thing. Z'ves and his blue excelled in their wing. The man loving the control over life and death that he had on the battlefield. Thus he happily ignored the politics of the weyr, did what he was told, and became valued for it. C'leon had become something of a hero to Z'ves, someone to look up to, emulate in ways, and the bluerider was all to willing to give back to his leader. The one who provided him with such opportunities.
Through this time Z’ves also perfected his art of control. Practicing such on his class mates and beyond that what Lucith’s flights brought him. In the end there where many that caught his eye, some more special than others, and a phantom shadow of death seemed to loom behind him. Ierana of green Ksyiehth became one of his favorites not long after Lucith was lucky enough to claim her in one of his flights. The woman eventually killed herself to escape him, leaving him with just one more conquest to add to his ‘collection’. In this way Z’ves and Lucith spent their time. Fighting for Benden for C'leon, while playing with their ‘toys’ at home. Life if not perfect was under control.
Then the siege of Selenitas hit Lucith and Z'ves where put on one of the fighting wings and helped with the slaughter only to be struck by the enormity of C'leon's death. Then upon their return to what was supposed to be home, they where set upon by their own brethren. However the pair where able to escape the jaws of death with only minor injuries thanks to a particularly loyal 'lover' of his and her warning. The pair ended up escaping to a small cothold to recover and then proceeded to live as vagrants for awhile, living off of the land and residing in mountainous areas. Eventually it was learned that a Fortian had control of Benden and there was a resistance movement to oust the usurper and reclaim Benden for themselves.
Z'ves was only to quick to jump on the bandwagon and now his loyalty runs strictly to Wasteland, his only desire J'lorin's death and the reclaiming of the weyr that was once Benden.
Dragons/Whers/Fire Lizards/Salamandyrs:
Name: Lucith
Color: Blue / base color 254062 Markings 6960EC
Age:12 (Hatched in 3003)
Physical Appearance:
Lucith is a small blue measuring nose to tail only slightly smaller than your average green. The blue is muscular but not overly so. Instead most of his strength is lean rippling muscle not unlike what one would find on a distance runner. His body is refined and streamlined, elegant. His head is wedge shaped with a defined jaw line and set upon a long and slender neck. Only his color and mind tone really give away that he is male. Thin perfectly proportioned wings sit upon his back. The blue is built more for speed than power, and it shows.
Coloration wise the blue is a steal slate blue. The color having almost no sheen. However it is his markings that make him unique. His head is washed with a lighter blue the color following the exact outline of his skull. The color also washes down his spine, highlighting each vertebra to his forked tail and making them stand out. His talons are a pitch black shade but each forepaw is the same light blue, the color washing up each leg to the first joint and giving the illusion of licking flames climbing up his legs.
Personality:
One could say that Lucith was born without a personality. But they would be wrong. The blue at one time had his own set of ideas, likes and dislikes, and morals. However through the 12 years he has been bound to his rider each one has been torn, forgotten, and destroyed. What has been left is a hollow mockery. A beast completely at his master's command and who's only desire is to fulfill his bonded's whims and wishes. Lucith will speak when spoken to and only then. Normally responding in short answers. He is obedient to his and the metallics alone and the later only out of necessity. In matters of rising the blue is violent and often pays as much attention to his competition as the female. Not even in rising however is he free of his bonded’s hold. Nor will he ever be. For it is Z’ves who picks what greens he will chase. In flights Lucith does not chase, he takes. The blue is as violent to his partners as his is to their counterparts, often marking them with both tooth and claw so they will never be able to forget….
Throne Blue
Impressed to: Z'ves
Age: Hatchling
Name : Lancelot a.k.a Lance
Color: 7a7aa4
Appearance: If a salamandyr could look any less like its parents, it would be a dragon. The male is large enough to rival an average brown in length. His wingspan is impressively wide and his tail even longer than normal for a salamandyr, comprising 3/4ths of his length. The blue’s legs are magnificently long as well, but folded up like a cricket’s. While he will never be capable of true flight, he mimics it well, his method of locomotion a mixture of hops, glides, and swings aided by his strong, prehensile tail. Everything about this salamandyr is long and streamlined.
In comparison to his genuinely unique body structure, this salamandyr’s coloring is, well, disappointing. He is, quite simply, a medium gray without any hint of blue or a more metallic silver. At a glance, even his markings are rather lackluster, as he only has a sprinkling of off-white spots running down the length of his back. He did, however, manage to inherit his dam’s translucent wings, so that when light catches them just right they cast rainbow-hued prisms on the ground below. By far his most attractive feature, though, is his impressive frill. The membrane when unfolded is a shiny, silken golden hue, the spines a lovely pale blue/silver. Sadly, though, he never displays his frill unless provoked.
Personality: He is, without a doubt, the epitome of the perfect gentleman. Calm. Stately. Quiet. Could this really be a salamandyr? The blue doesn’t speak much, but when he does he always accompanies it with a ‘ma’am’ or ‘sir’ (though he seems to have a problem getting the gender right half the time). If other salamandyrs are spatting his is more than happy to act as mediator - whether they want one or not - and never fails to make his disapproval known when another ‘mandyr utters those nasty curse words. Now, if he could just remember more than a few words at a time and actually use them correctly, he might be more effective. As it is he simply can’t fathom why other salamandyrs don’t seem to understand him.
Our little gentleman could not possibly be a true gallant if he was not chivalrous, now could he? There really is very little that can rile the blue up. He will never fail to come to the aid of a female of his species, however, displaying his glorious frill and defending her to the death - whether from verbal or physical barbs, it doesn’t matter. A lady is never wrong, you see. As for mates, this blue is unerringly faithful to any female he catches. Until he forgets them, which happens as soon as they’re out of sight. (He doesn’t have the best of memories.) His devotion - and memory - returns the moment he sees them again. As a result, the blue has the potential to collect a small harem, his fondness for each and every one bleeding over into His.
His chosen will have to be very careful to shield any cruel intentions from this salamandyr, which won’t be easy; the blue bonds close. Should he learn of them he will declare them - as best he can - to all the world and proceed to be mad at His for such horrible thoughts. Fortunately for His, the blue’s memory is so short he won’t have to endure the ‘mandyr’s displeasure for long.
[X] By checking this box, I am saying that I have read the Rules and History, and will follow them.
Humans:
Name: Z’ves (Previously Zerves)
Age: 26
Gender: Male
Sexual Orientation: No preference, All are simply victims
Rank: Wingrider
Birthday: June 10th
Base = Matt Cohen
Physical Appearance:
Z’ves stands at a height of 5’ 10” not the tallest man but far from the shortest either. His build is pretty much exactly what you would expect from a dragon rider. All wiry hard muscle with not an ounce of fat to be found on his frame. The man is extremely flexible and his lean muscle gives him a surprising amount of strength. At least enough for his purposes. His skin tone is pale although time spent in the sun will probably quickly remedy this. Lucky for Z’ves he is the type to tan easily instead of burn. This skin is far from unmarked numerous scars mark his torso although it seems he is lucky in the fact that not many of them are horribly prominent or ugly looking. Instead they only add to his attractive rugged appearance.
The young bluerider sports a head of close cropped black hair and closet pale blue eyes that seemingly lack any warmth at all. His jaw is strong and almost square in shape and one would not be lying if they described him as extremely handsome. He always keeps himself very clean and seems to have a knack for making himself look good in anything. As far as clothing goes while in the north he favored leather and fur lined things. Now in the south he is often missing a shirt or wearing a tight sleeveless or open one which displays his scars and musculature quite nicely for all to see. As far as weapons go he most often carries both a short belt knife and other hidden weapons with him.
Personality:
Very much the wolf in disguise. Z’ves is not at all what he appears to be. Upon first meeting one will find a quiet, smiling, caring personality. The kind most people jump to befriend. The bluerider is well practiced in getting people to trust him. A soft hand and a listening ear are the tools of his trade. Gaining the trust of others is quite easy for him and he very good at playing the best friend. The rock that will always be there not matter what. But this is all a carefully crafted ruse. Z’ves is anything but friendly. You see inwardly he is cynical, mean, and downright psychotic.
Once he has befriended you Z’ves’ true colors start to show. But not right away. He likes to have his victims nicely wrapped up emotionally in him before he begins his work. Woman and the homosexual population of the weyr are his preferred and normally only targets and he loves to break them slowly. Once he knows your deepest darkest secrets it’s easy you see. Easy to get this victims to do whatever he wants. He is controlling to the extreme, abusive both mentally and physically and he thrives on making his new ‘friend’ or ‘lover’ feel worthless, hurt, and completely inadequate. He controls his victims with an iron fist and any rebellion from them is taken care of with swift beatings or threats. In lovemaking he is vicious and self serving and one might as well call it rape or sexual abuse for it could hardly be called much else.
Once he has set his sights on someone sadly Z’ves will continue in his torture until his victim is either so broken they can barely function or until they take their own life in a desire to escape. For you see even if you succeed in breaking off from him you are never free. Normally his victims have mental issues so deep that they may never fully recover and Z’ves prides himself on this fact. He covets the belongings of his ‘lovers’ and for each person he has had a dealing with he has a particular object that was once theirs. This helps him ‘revisit’ previous conquests and he keeps a collection of them stashed in his weyr. The most precious of which are displayed proudly and without fear. Who would dare take them after all?
History:
Zerves was born to greenrider Zerviana in 2989. Not wanting anything to do with the babe he was passed off to the creche as soon as he was weaned. His father was an unknown. Likely a flight partner. The boy was raised mainly by the creche staff. His childhood was anything but happy. Attention deprived and for the most part ignored he was an extremely fussy child and that only made him undesirable to the creche workers. He was always crying about something, always whimpering, very demanding. It didn’t go well for him until one particular worker took and interest in the boy. Even then saying it was an improvement would not exactly be true.
Her name was Rian and she had just lost her second child, not being able to carry them to term. It was Zerves she attached herself to. However her version of love was wildly different from most people. Pain and grief had hardened her and Zerves was loved just as much as he was also beaten. Growing up this way the boy quickly learned how to avoid a beating by being resourceful. Trickery and the careful concealing of any emotion became his shield.
As Zerves grew he became the terror of the creche and the younger boys. It was he they looked to for approval, he they loved and yet feared, and he loved the power he had over them. Rian, not so happy about how her son was turning out became increasingly violent with the boy, until one night when Zerves was twelve he took her life. Stabbing her in her sleep and thus freeing himself. With the current atmosphere at Benden Rian’s death was pretty much over looked. Chalked up to a chance run in with a rider. She was female and weyrfolk not much of a loss. Two month’s after Rian’s death Zerves looked into becoming a candidate. He was accepted and while in the barracks he mostly kept to his best behavior subtly ‘playing’ with his fellow classmates and finding a love for breaking them in one way or another. Thus an obsession based on control was born. Their lives and happiness where his to keep and thus, his to take away. Whatever the boy chose.
He stood only a few times before, at the age of fourteen, a green pinned him to the sand. Her claws ripping gouges in his chest. A small blue hatchling stalked the sands and came to his rescue. Mutilating his clutch sister’s face in retribution. An ichor stained maw bumped against Zerves’ chest then tongue coming out to lap at his wounds. She should have known better than to insult you my Z’ves. Your Lucith does not approve. Now she can remember everyday the folly that was hers. Lucith was a violent and controlling entity. However the blue had met his match in the boy he sought to claim. In the end it was Z’ves who controlled. The dragonet quickly learned through pain and mental trauma that it was he who belonged, not Z’ves. When he obeyed he was given snatches of approval and perhaps an inkling of love and Lucith took with relish what he was given.
Weyrling training continued apace. Lucith and Z’ves quickly rising in notoriety. The blue’s smaller size and vicious attitude, and Z’ves cold ruthlessness quickly earning the pair a place in a fighting wing upon graduation. It wasn't a bad thing. Z'ves and his blue excelled in their wing. The man loving the control over life and death that he had on the battlefield. Thus he happily ignored the politics of the weyr, did what he was told, and became valued for it. C'leon had become something of a hero to Z'ves, someone to look up to, emulate in ways, and the bluerider was all to willing to give back to his leader. The one who provided him with such opportunities.
Through this time Z’ves also perfected his art of control. Practicing such on his class mates and beyond that what Lucith’s flights brought him. In the end there where many that caught his eye, some more special than others, and a phantom shadow of death seemed to loom behind him. Ierana of green Ksyiehth became one of his favorites not long after Lucith was lucky enough to claim her in one of his flights. The woman eventually killed herself to escape him, leaving him with just one more conquest to add to his ‘collection’. In this way Z’ves and Lucith spent their time. Fighting for Benden for C'leon, while playing with their ‘toys’ at home. Life if not perfect was under control.
Then the siege of Selenitas hit Lucith and Z'ves where put on one of the fighting wings and helped with the slaughter only to be struck by the enormity of C'leon's death. Then upon their return to what was supposed to be home, they where set upon by their own brethren. However the pair where able to escape the jaws of death with only minor injuries thanks to a particularly loyal 'lover' of his and her warning. The pair ended up escaping to a small cothold to recover and then proceeded to live as vagrants for awhile, living off of the land and residing in mountainous areas. Eventually it was learned that a Fortian had control of Benden and there was a resistance movement to oust the usurper and reclaim Benden for themselves.
Z'ves was only to quick to jump on the bandwagon and now his loyalty runs strictly to Wasteland, his only desire J'lorin's death and the reclaiming of the weyr that was once Benden.
Dragons/Whers/Fire Lizards/Salamandyrs:
Name: Lucith
Color: Blue / base color 254062 Markings 6960EC
Age:12 (Hatched in 3003)
Physical Appearance:
Lucith is a small blue measuring nose to tail only slightly smaller than your average green. The blue is muscular but not overly so. Instead most of his strength is lean rippling muscle not unlike what one would find on a distance runner. His body is refined and streamlined, elegant. His head is wedge shaped with a defined jaw line and set upon a long and slender neck. Only his color and mind tone really give away that he is male. Thin perfectly proportioned wings sit upon his back. The blue is built more for speed than power, and it shows.
Coloration wise the blue is a steal slate blue. The color having almost no sheen. However it is his markings that make him unique. His head is washed with a lighter blue the color following the exact outline of his skull. The color also washes down his spine, highlighting each vertebra to his forked tail and making them stand out. His talons are a pitch black shade but each forepaw is the same light blue, the color washing up each leg to the first joint and giving the illusion of licking flames climbing up his legs.
Personality:
One could say that Lucith was born without a personality. But they would be wrong. The blue at one time had his own set of ideas, likes and dislikes, and morals. However through the 12 years he has been bound to his rider each one has been torn, forgotten, and destroyed. What has been left is a hollow mockery. A beast completely at his master's command and who's only desire is to fulfill his bonded's whims and wishes. Lucith will speak when spoken to and only then. Normally responding in short answers. He is obedient to his and the metallics alone and the later only out of necessity. In matters of rising the blue is violent and often pays as much attention to his competition as the female. Not even in rising however is he free of his bonded’s hold. Nor will he ever be. For it is Z’ves who picks what greens he will chase. In flights Lucith does not chase, he takes. The blue is as violent to his partners as his is to their counterparts, often marking them with both tooth and claw so they will never be able to forget….
Throne Blue
Impressed to: Z'ves
Age: Hatchling
Name : Lancelot a.k.a Lance
Color: 7a7aa4
Appearance: If a salamandyr could look any less like its parents, it would be a dragon. The male is large enough to rival an average brown in length. His wingspan is impressively wide and his tail even longer than normal for a salamandyr, comprising 3/4ths of his length. The blue’s legs are magnificently long as well, but folded up like a cricket’s. While he will never be capable of true flight, he mimics it well, his method of locomotion a mixture of hops, glides, and swings aided by his strong, prehensile tail. Everything about this salamandyr is long and streamlined.
In comparison to his genuinely unique body structure, this salamandyr’s coloring is, well, disappointing. He is, quite simply, a medium gray without any hint of blue or a more metallic silver. At a glance, even his markings are rather lackluster, as he only has a sprinkling of off-white spots running down the length of his back. He did, however, manage to inherit his dam’s translucent wings, so that when light catches them just right they cast rainbow-hued prisms on the ground below. By far his most attractive feature, though, is his impressive frill. The membrane when unfolded is a shiny, silken golden hue, the spines a lovely pale blue/silver. Sadly, though, he never displays his frill unless provoked.
Personality: He is, without a doubt, the epitome of the perfect gentleman. Calm. Stately. Quiet. Could this really be a salamandyr? The blue doesn’t speak much, but when he does he always accompanies it with a ‘ma’am’ or ‘sir’ (though he seems to have a problem getting the gender right half the time). If other salamandyrs are spatting his is more than happy to act as mediator - whether they want one or not - and never fails to make his disapproval known when another ‘mandyr utters those nasty curse words. Now, if he could just remember more than a few words at a time and actually use them correctly, he might be more effective. As it is he simply can’t fathom why other salamandyrs don’t seem to understand him.
Our little gentleman could not possibly be a true gallant if he was not chivalrous, now could he? There really is very little that can rile the blue up. He will never fail to come to the aid of a female of his species, however, displaying his glorious frill and defending her to the death - whether from verbal or physical barbs, it doesn’t matter. A lady is never wrong, you see. As for mates, this blue is unerringly faithful to any female he catches. Until he forgets them, which happens as soon as they’re out of sight. (He doesn’t have the best of memories.) His devotion - and memory - returns the moment he sees them again. As a result, the blue has the potential to collect a small harem, his fondness for each and every one bleeding over into His.
His chosen will have to be very careful to shield any cruel intentions from this salamandyr, which won’t be easy; the blue bonds close. Should he learn of them he will declare them - as best he can - to all the world and proceed to be mad at His for such horrible thoughts. Fortunately for His, the blue’s memory is so short he won’t have to endure the ‘mandyr’s displeasure for long.
[X] By checking this box, I am saying that I have read the Rules and History, and will follow them.