Post by Kisha-Ra on Jun 21, 2009 16:12:27 GMT -5
Humans:
Name: Yoalla
Age: 26 (born 2997)
Gender: Female
Sexual Orientation: Bisexual
Rank: Greenhandler
Physical Appearance: Exotic is probably the word for Yoalla’s face, she’s a little darker skinned than average with long dark hair that hangs in a waterfall down her back. Without doubt the attention drawer in her face is the pair of large, dark green eyes. Set under perfectly arched brows and rimmed in black these eyes are slightly slanted and far older and more knowing than face they occupy, and though she is no raving beauty Yoalla is an attractive person.
Yoalla has a consciously provocative manner, one that she worked on for years until her natural movement is a challenging strut, her natural glance is a practiced sidelong invitation. Even Yoalla’s stance is a doxie’s, straight up with her shoulders pulled slightly back to display her body to best effect, one hip or the other permanently cocked in invitation. It’s only in unguarded moments, or deadly serious times that Yoalla loses the mannerisms she picked up as a young prostitute.
Yoalla tends to come off as non-threatening simply because she’s small, standing at 5’2’’ in her bare feet and built lightly, she’s worked hard on building muscle and training with her weapons to pull her weight in the night watch but you’d never know it to look at her. To emphasise her petite frame Yoalla’s clothing tends to be loose for freedom of movement in her work, and to hang away from the hidden daggers she carries to discourage human trouble makers on her watch.
Personality: Like her body Yoalla’s personality wears the mannerisms of a high class doxie, learned in her youth in Bitra hold, she steps out boldly, meets stares with a sidelong gaze and absentmindedly flirts and makes innuendos throughout casual conversations.
Lurking behind the outer defensive layer is a spirited young woman who is determined to protect not only those she loves but also those she owes her loyalty to, in fact when her loyalty is placed, it’s placed so firmly it would take a major betrayal to shake it but once it’s lost it eill take years to renew, if it can be renewed at all. Her first loyalty goes to Yosk and her other mindmates, always and without question, friends and lovers will always play second fiddle to the motley collection of creatures Yoalla gathers about her. Her second loyalty goes to whers, not just those of the night watch but the whole species, she’ll always stand up to anyone she finds speaking badly of whers, even golds.
Yoalla is a personable sort, she likes to talk to people on a casual basis as well as a professional one, but she often lacks a great deal in the way of subtlety. People can always tell what she dislikes by her expression, and if she has something to say, she’ll say it, most often loudly.
History: Yolin was harper journeyman who had the misfortune to take his first permanent position at Bitra hold. Upon his arrival there he found that all the rumours about the place were quite close to true, except the one about the Lord Holder and the ox. That WAS a complete fabrication (judging by the appearance of the Lord’s children Yolin would have bet on an ugly tunnelsnake himself). Anyway, the appearance of the Lord holder’s children aside, Yolin was generally disgusted with being assigned to a pit of moral depravity and really thought his masters had it in for him.
However Yolin was a lusty young man and he was soon to be found paying frequent visits to the less expensive houses of pleasure, those being the bordels he could afford to visit. A certain lady named Ayalla quickly became his favoured doxie.
After about a turn at Bitra Yolin was reassigned, much to his relief, and left the hold without another thought, glad to see the back of the place at last. What Yolin didn’t know was that he left his former favourite doxie pregnant. Unsurprisingly in due time the child was born, a girl with nothing of her father in her but his dark green eyes. Ayalla choose to call her daughter Yoalla, following the established and unremarkable tradition.
Yoalla couldn’t honestly remember a time when her mother’s bordel wasn’t poor, in good times there was enough on the table and no more, and in bad times Yoalla wasn’t the only one who lay awake at night curled around an empty belly.
Yoalla never thought her childhood was different, there were other accidental children of doxies and spintries inhabiting the brothel, most often their parents didn’t have families to send the superfluous children to. There was always an empty room, a basket of rag toys, or the streets when Yoalla or one of the other children annoyed the madam or the customers.
The streets seemed to be where a great deal of children ended up in bitra hold, playing in the muck, eating things grubbed from garbage heaps and waiting to fill mass graves. Yoalla was always wary of these other, wilder children, keeping wary eyes on those who begged or stole while she and the other bordel brats played at hand clapping games or worked on mending and other simple tasks. This is not to say that Yoalla herself was not light-fingered on occasion, only that she limited herself to petty thefts of food or small amounts of unattended coin. In her mind, even as a child, anyone who left marks just lying around deserved to lose them.
Yoalla was vaguely aware that sometimes the older children would vanish one day. Their parent, or the madam, would come and lead them away somewhere. Then they weren’t seen again. This puzzled Yoalla until she was almost eight turns old. A much older boy than her, a stocky lad of nearly fourteen with an amateur singing voice that brought in a little more coin told her flat out when he noted her looking about for those who vanished.
’Forget it Yoalla, theys gone. Either to the mines or to other bordels worse than this ‘un. Leastways madam don’t sell children here.’That sentence burned into Yoalla’s mind with the force of a hot iron. People were selling their littles to the mines like fugitives? At least the sale of children to other bordels was easier to understand. Yoalla had a fairly good idea of what it was that her mother and the other doxies sold now, though the spintries confused her yet. She found the idea of being sold of to a bordel that would sell her body that way distasteful and more than a little frightening.
Yoalla and her little gang of bordel brats were no fools, when they reached a certain age it occurred to all of them that they were a drain on resources, especially since the madam frequently told them they were eating up her profit. They foraged in garbage heaps for anything vaguely edible or worth a little coin, filling baskets with bits of coal and wood that might be burnable once they dried out, scraps of cloth big enough to be useful, anything that someone might buy at a dozen bits for 1/32 mark.
As well as picking up anything with a cash value, however small, the borel’s children would also pick up anything mildly edible. Many a meal was enhanced by the addition of a few small tubers that had only gone a bit green or some meat that would be fine once the mould was cut away. Some of the older children got bolder in their search for a little extra food and formed hunting gangs that roved around the hold, targeting the feral dogs, cats, and hogs that were their constant competition for food. Once stewed even the mangiest cur was edible.
Muck trawling and hunting down feral animals had it’s risks, aside from disease, which the children were quite resistant to there was always a risk that some animal would evade their crude traps and savage them, and on four separate occasions their traps were stolen and dismantled before they could lead their victim back to it. In which case everyone would scatter and attempt to climb the nearest walls. In addition to this the bordel gang were sometimes swept up in turf wars between gangs of street children, in which non-combatant status was not a viable option.
On several occasions in such battles for territory Yoalla was swept off the streets and held with street children who were destined for hard labour. Such times were among the worst of Yoalla’s young life, for if she wasn’t claimed by her mother, or at least someone with work, she’d be sold off with the street children. At such times Yoalla always held a nagging fear that this time no one would come for her, although she intellectually knew someone would. Even if her mother no longer cared about her he would still care about the coin she could gain from selling Yoalla for herself, on that basis even the madam would claim children from the bordel back.
Yoalla’s mother was always frail, part of her appeal to many customers no doubt, so it came as no real surprise when she caught yet another pox from some customer or another towards the end of Yoalla’s eleventh turn. Though she seemed for a while to be making a steady recovery Ayalla finally gave up and died just two days after her daughter’s twelfth birthing day.
Ayalla’s body was removed and burned, her room scrubbed back to the bare boards, and her bedding burned, for though the madam was a skinflint she didn’t want any of her other girls dying from some pox. Yoalla was assigned to keeping busy for the next few days, to take her mind off things the madam said, though how chopping kittens for stew meat was supposed to make her feel any better Yoalla didn’t know. She did her best to make herself very useful indeed, despite her sorrow, because she didn’t want to be sold off to the mines for a little extra meat money.
However no matter how useful she was Yoalla was to be sold, she was bringing in no coin, thanks to madam’s principle of not selling children, so she had to go. Within a sevenday of Ayalla’s death the madam had a good sale for Yoalla, who was growing to be a pretty, if frail seeming, young girl, with a prosperous bordello that catered for richer customers. Madam could see good in all sides of the arrangement, she was getting more coin for the girl than she’s normally take in a few days, and Yoalla would be getting a good place in a nice bordel. How many girls would fight for a place like that? However even when she extolled the virtues of such a position to Yoalla she found the girl reluctant, well more totally hysterical.
Hysteria aside Yoalla was taken to her new bordel by the madam of that place, a solid, no nonsense woman called Raasheen. Yoalla was unceremoniously, stripped and scrubbed upon her arrival in her new home, then subjected to a haircut, and fittings for some working clothes to be made up for her. Yoalla endured all this in a state of numb shock. She had been sold, but not to the mines.
Raasheen had opening speech about Yoalla’s new position that was as plain and no nonsense as the madam herself. It was long, blunt and full of enough information to make Yoalla’s head spin. She would be trained after her first customer, taught to cook, clean, read, write, and figure numbers as well as learning the arts of her profession in case a wealthy man should wish to buy up her contract. She would learn to speak properly, and comport herself with dignity appropriate to her employers household. She would be fitted with brand new clothes to wear with customers and given clothes for everyday wear as well. She would share chores with the rest of the household as soon as she learned to do them properly. She would not leave without permission and if she tried to run away Raasheen would hunt her down and take everything out of Yoalla’s hide. And those were just the bits that made sense to Yoalla.
In the five days it took Raasheen to arrange for Yoalla’s first customer (Raasheen had a particular customer in mind) the girl grew used to the relative luxuries of her new bordel, all the food she could eat whenever she wanted it and nearly new clothes. All the involvement she’d had with customers so far was to serve wine and look pretty; she even began to hope the Raasheen would find no customer who wanted such a skinny little scrap as her.
However one afternoon Raasheen came for Yoalla and told her to dress up in her new working clothes, gaudy garments that Yoalla disliked compared to the simple shirts and skirts she’d been given, and report to her. Yoalla knew her time had come and she was scared. She fussed with her clothes as much as she could, to buy a little more time but in the end she knew she had nowhere to escape to. She put on a brave face and reported to madam Raasheen trembling only slightly. She could do this. It had to be easy otherwise people wouldn’t do it for a living over other work would they?
’Be respectful. He’s a dragonrider. Raasheen said and pushed her into the room. The door closed behind her and Yoalla trembled, knowing her fate.
After that experience Yoalla decided quite firmly that she did not like dragonriders and never wanted to see that man again. But luck was not with Yoalla as said dragonrider was a regular customer with marks burning a hole in his pocket and a passion for young girls.
Eventually Yoalla settled to the life of a working girl. She knew she had it better than most, she lived in relative luxury compared to most of the girls in bitra. She didn’t have to put up with fleas, street corners and rough customers and Raasheen was happy to provide a selection of totally foul herbal teas to keep her girls from having any babies.
It seemed that the ongoing war between Benden and Fort was reaching a new level of hostility. It wasn’t uncommon to see a wing of dragons in the sky every few days, and many of the riders that came to Raasheen’s establishment were injured or scarred. Loose talking customers all had an opinion about the war but Yoalla never really formed one, except that it was really making dragonriders ugly.
Turns whiled away, as turns will, while Yoalla learned her figures and letters, worked at chores, serviced innumerable customers. At sixteen Yoalla was shocked by the condition of one of her customers, she was used to seeing scars on dragonriders now but this man was quite remarkably scarred, not only was he missing his right hand, a great injury in itself, but he was marked with a burn scar over most of his chest and a long silver scar across his face that was very strange to Yoalla’s eyes. She couldn’t help what she blurted out. ’What happened to you?’
‘Well maybe if you’re good I’ll tell you.’ Well Yoalla must have been good because the rider, greenrider N’nam, explained that his most recent injuries were from fighting thread and the subsequent battle. At first Yoalla disbelieved, but something in N’nam’s eyes when he said that she’d be seeing a lot more threadscores made her believe him at last.
N’nam was a frequent visitor to Yoalla in coming months, and he never hesitated to share anything he considered important with Yoalla. She actually began to feel a vague affection for the maimed greenrider, after a while even his lack of a hand seemed to be more a part of his eccentric personality than disfigurement. Sometimes, in his cups, N’nam would talk of buying Yoalla’s contract for a turn or so, but he was only a greenrider, and now a non combatant thread fighter, and Yoalla’s contract now cost more than she herself had cost at twelve turns of age.
Mostly N’nam and the other customers were full of gossip and rumour about where they’d come from, however N’nam was the most useful for dropping something useful in Yoalla’s ear. ’C'leon’s said to be steaming, one of the goldriders has buggered off south.’ ‘C’leon took his bronze to the southern Weyr to catch their gold. Can you believe it?’ Yoalla was careful to keep such pieces of gossip between her teeth, knowing that benden wouldn’t want everyone knowing their business, and that N’nam would be punished if anyone found the rumours came from him.
Over the next two turns all the rumour seemed to be about the southern Weyr Selenitas. Yoalla couldn’t see why the northern Weyrs were so interested in them, weren’t they a long way off? And couldn’t Fort keep hold of their queens, another one had vanished off somewhere, or so she was told. At least N’nam wasn’t in on the schemes, Yoalla didn’t think she’d like him as much if he was.
Things continued as they always did in madam Raasheen’s house of delights until September of the sixth turn of the tenth pass. N’nam arrived a good deal more jubilant than usual. C’leon was dead, Baith, the senior queen was nominally in charge, and N’nam said he had a plan.
His plan turned out to be buying Yolla’s contract for a few month, Yoalla failed to see how this was a plan, and also failed to see how N’nam ha come by the marks for that. He declined to say on the second score, but explained that he wanted to drop her off in the south. Yoalla was highly mystified and told N’nam to get to the point before they both died of old age. With this incentive N’nam elaborated that his green had pointed Yoalla out as a potential candidate, and that benden would no doubt be searching soon. N’nam didn’t want Yoalla to be taken to benden, a sentiment that she could wholeheartedly agree with. Privately she thought N’nam’s plan was a pile of dragon dung, and was still suspicious about how he came by that many marks, but as she didn’t have a better plan Yoalla agreed.
Pretty soon she found herself paid for, bundled up and hanging on behind N’nam as his dragon bounded upward. She was having severe second thoughts about the whole flying business when they suddenly weren’t in the sky anymore, or indeed anywhere apparently. Then they were flying through a totally different part of the sky. So that was Between…
N’nam dropped Yoalla and her stuff off at Blossom hold, which was as close to the Weyr as he really wanted to get. As he left Yoalla realised that N’nam hadn’t explained how he was going to explain this to madam Raasheen.
Despite being told by N’nam that she would make a good candidate Yoalla had to spend nearly a week flaunting herself in front of the watchdragon before the old blue looked her way. She almost suspected him of being blind.
Shorthly after Yoalla’s arrival at Selenitas a bunch of dragonriders from an unkown Weyr (although Yoalla came to suspect High Reaches, simply because Benden and Fort had enough queens) appeared on the sands and attempted to steal one of the dragon eggs. Yoalla, along with several others, was embroiled in a fight to drive off the invaders and save the eggs. The effort was successful, but the invaders did not leave Selenitas unscathed, one of the southern dragons was killed before the invaders were dealt with.
However when it the time came for the eggs to hatch it turned out that Yoalla didn’t have a dragon among them, maybe she wasn’t as great as N’nam thought, at candidacy at least. Still with the queen climbing the stands and a green Impress the man who had his dragon killed in the fight over these eggs it hardly seemed that there were many female dragons left.
Not long after a wild wher laid a clutch of seven in the wher quarters, and out of curiosity about the beasts Yoalla went to their hatching, and for her troubles was clawed by the baby gold, which was probably the beginning of Yoalla’s antipathy toward the golden dragon kin. She also Impressed the last wher, a pale green, who proclaimed herself to be Yosk.
Yosk was pretty (for a wher at least), sweet, and absolutely devoted, but unfortunately she was also terribly meek and shy, and while Yoalla roomed with Ariya (the only other female to Impress) and her bronze lump of ego Yoalla was totally unable to convince Yosk she was anything but worthless, which added another strike against metallic hides in Yoalla’s opinion.
One small thing did gain a point for the metallics with Yoalla, Lao, a firelizard from a wild clutch that she Impressed more or less by falling over. However the confused little beast thought he was female and a green, and Yoalla treated him as such when it seemed she couldn’t change his mind.
A great deal of Weyr activity passed Yoalla by as she adapted to the night life, attended lessons, and eventually helped her fellow wherhandlers to reform the Night Watch. However one thing that didn’t pass anyone in the wher quarters by was an invasion by Fort Weyr.
Summoned to the hatching sands in the middle of the day (which was the middle of the night for wherhandlers), Yoalla was somewhat dazed to begin with, but apparently not too dazed to lecture a weyrling queen, or realise the half blind whers weren’t the best defenders of doors. However every point became moot as those within the hatching ground were forced to evacuate by a fire.
Yoalla might not have liked Yosk’s golden sister but Eikask’s clutch of seven was, naturally, a very good thing for the wher quarters since the wher population had almost doubled, and there was not a gold among them and the one bronze of the clutch acted more like a certain playful brother of Yosk’s had done.
Though most of the Weyr events did tend to pass by the wherhandlers, the takeover of Selenitas by northern riders was very hard to ignore, particularly since said riders took pains to wake the wherhandlers and inform them they were trapped. Yoalla always knew they needed windows, however since diving out of one wasn’t an option, Yoalla was forced to wait it out with her fellow wherhandlers.
The ‘new management’, as Yoalla always thought of them, didn’t much change things for the wherhandlers, probably because they thought whers were beneath them. Later that turn Yoalla decided they thought all things were beneath them as she heard talk of the new management killing newly Impressed dragons on the hatching sands.
As the turn turned there was talk from the dragonriders about the exiles who’d escaped during the takeover stealing tithes, but no other word until a gather at Hyphen hold where it was said that Ka’rys had been killed along with an unspecified number of others. If the exiles were planning to retake the Weyr and slaughter the new management after that, Yoalla would hardly object at all.
At least Eikask proved she was useful for something that turn by producing a clutch of seven new whers toward the mid part of it. That of course meant more whers that Yosk was convinced she was inferior to as well as a new round of lessons and duty tours for the younglings but at least the night watch was gaining strength.
The rest of 3016 passed uneventfully for the wherhandlers as a change in leadership from Ja’kin to H’nes made no difference to the way the whers and their handlers were treated or their expected duties. Even Millieth’s Rising in early 3017 was nothing for the wher quarters to get excited about.
Yoalla found herself rather charmed by the blue wher who won Yosk’s run in the first months of the turn, however. Blue Swisk was one of the oldest whers and his handler was something of a recluse but the frail seeming blue managed not only to charm Yosk for a night but into a state where her eyes turned pink in a wher’s blush every time she set eyes on the older wher.
A major earthquake in the middle of the night brought chaos direct to everyone from the youngest weyrbrat to the oldest granny. The Wherhand;er’s quarters behind the waterfall had almost totally been destroyed and many were injured or outright killed in the quake. The surviving whers soon set to digging out the rest of the Weyr, which was in far worse shape as most people had been in bed at the time. Many more riders and weyrfolk had been killed than handlers, and many more would need medical attention that they weren’t going to get thanks to a caved in infirmary. Things were looking grim.
The grimness was lifted slightly by a visit from some exile riders, who brought in some supplies and healers and made the strange offer to merge the two Weyrs together in their underground Weyr. Since Selenitas was near totally levelled that plan went ahead and soon the old Weyr was left to the dust, the weeds, the felines, and the wild whers.
During the the merge with Burimyu, which was quickly renamed New Selenitas Eikane was offered a seat on the council. Probably, Yoalla reflected, because his wher was shiny, all the dragonriders respected was shine she was sure, and never mind that no goldrider sat on that council and that E’rro’s and Darya’s dragons shone not a bit.
Millieth’s clutch passed by producing nine new dragons, but Yoalla considered that a minor event compared to hatching of seven whers from Eikask’s six eggs. Whers had dragons beat this time as their egg twins were green and blue, not at all identical. Even though a second gold joined the ranks of the whers Yoalla couldn’t find it in her to be too upset since Kaiusk, as she named herself, was a much kinder and less arrogant soul than her mother.
Yoalla’s collection of pets were lucky enough to avoid the illness that killed many of the firelizards and salamandyrs in the Weyr toward the end of the turn otherwise she might well have been one of those who sent her pets to be treated with experimental drugs.
Life seemed to slowly be getting better, but to bring it down again Darmori and Darmosk were attacked and killed in the first months of 3018 by creatures that became commonly described as ‘monsters’ later on. Yoalla was one of those who rode out that cold night to drive off the beasts and teach them to fear whers. The operation was a partial success, the beasts were routed and one was taken back the weyr for futher study, a dead one, but in the coming months the wherhandler would encounter the creatures more frequently.
Although 3019 brought unlikely allies and an end to the great war Yoalla was not personally involved, though Yosk, by some quirk of genetics, could fly her temperament and pale colour made her a bad choice for scouting out ways to infiltrate Fort Weyr. The most excitement the turn had to offer Yoalla was more feline and monster hunting.
The 3020 summit was the first major set of decisions that effected the wherhandlers of Selenitas that Yoalla could remember. It was therefore something of a shame that the result was every handler with a craft being reassigned to a hold unless they could come up with a good reason otherwise. Shortly after that Yoalla and Swithin decided to move in together, their whers still had as much adoration for each other as they had several turns ago, and Yoalla would have roomed with a ninety year old lecher to keep Yosk happy. Fortunately Swithin was anything but and hardly complained about sharing his room with three firelizards and a salamandyr as well as Yoalla and Yosk. Though many were discontent with the lot placed on them by the summit Yoalla found herself content if not actually happy.
Wher:
Name: Yosk
Color: Green #BEE8B5
Age: 10 (hatched 3013)
Physical Appearance: Yosk is one of the creatures who walks the borderline between plain and incredibly beautiful – though she seems to see only the ugly parts of herself and never really recognizes how pretty she could be taken for if only she tried to work to her advantage. She’s neither long nor short, simply average in length, with thick shoulders and a body to which a slight amount of fat clings. Though Yosk will undoubtedly be desperate to work it off, she’ll never manage it: She’s simply naturally chubby, though if she stood straight, even that would be unnoticeable and Yosk would look nothing short of slender. However, Yosk doesn’t – she always has her head low and her tail down, both wings often spread cautiously just in case she has to make a quick escape – and lovely large wings they are, too, but the way she holds them, stiffly, makes them look rather silly sometimes, given the angle. Her legs are curving, thick near the shoulder and hindquarters and becoming slender until they’re positively skinny around the ankles, giving her dual-toed paws the illusion of being larger than they actually are. Her eyes are extremely large, making her entire face look too small and giving her a perpetually hungry or astonished appearance, and Yosk is extremely insecure about her eyes, going as far as to narrow them on purpose to make them look smaller. They’re just horrible, aren’t they?!
She’s also terrified of how graceful she is (or isn’t). In Yosk’s opinion, she looks downright awkward maneuvering around things and simply just moving in general, and always prefers to be standing still when she’s talking to someone – that way she can occasionally hopefully remember to keep her posture correct and not a slouching, submissive, don’t-look-at-me slink as it usually is. Despite all of her fussiness, however, Yosk truly is quite a sight when she’s moving and not slinking along – she can go quite fast for short distances, and though her pace will always look just a little undignified – after all, if you think you’re clumsy, you will be – she’s not nearly as bad off as Yosk honestly thinks; her pace just looks a little like she’s not quite in control of her limbs and it’s more of a bouncy galloping pace than anything else. In flying, however, Yosk will be nothing short of magnificent – assuming Hers ever gets her in the air! Yosk is undoubtedly going to protest the idea of learning to fly anywhere where anyone could be watching her (and she’s incredibly paranoid of that), so Hers will have to find a nice, secret place before Yosk tries anything. Once she does, though, it’ll be clear she’s a natural…her wings and desire to be the best she can will see to that.
On one hand, Yosk’s color might be her crowning glory; on another – to her – it’s incredibly bad. People associate paleness with Fort, do they not? It breaks Yosk’s heart to be compared to Fort; she associates Northern with bad without any back-up logic, after all. But she does resemble the dragons of Grenostith’s brood in that her hide is incredibly, incredibly pale in shade, a once cheerful shade of spring green overlaid so many times with a translucent white that it’s become nearly completely white with only a tinge of green to hint at her coloration. Very subtly, the shade shifts from dark to light in such a way as to look just like natural shadows thrown onto Yosk, and slightly darker swirls brush against her hindquarters, and – something that Yosk will never know she possesses unless it’s pointed out to her – very, very dark swirls of a bright green start at a point just behind her eyes and swirl upwards and downwards on both sides of her eye in a design very much like that inscribed onto many masks. Both sides of her face are exactly the same, to the point of being literally symmetrical. Beautiful or ugly? – but, after all, beauty is in the eye of the beholder.
Personality: Yosk is incredibly insecure. No amount of informing her that she’s adorable, sweet, beautiful, etc. and so forth, will ever have any discernable effect on this green’s self-confidence. Only Hers will be trusted to love her implicitly, and Hers’ attention will be valued above all else. While in the company of others, she may ask Hers not to fawn over her just so that she doesn’t look silly, but in reality she’ll always love any affection given to her by Hers, though negative attention will have Yosk cringing and whimpering and pleading for apology, regardless of whether or not it’s her fault. Because, you see, Hers is always right, so surely if Yosk’s thinks that it’s her fault, it was? Even if she doesn’t remember? It has to be! If it’s not, then Hers would be wrong and that is simply impossible, liking asking a dragon to shrink to the size of a fire-lizard – just not right. Even though she might sulk about Hers’ decisions, in the end Yosk will always forgive, always forget, always start anew just so Hers still loves her…if Hers didn’t, who would? She’s not too pretty, after all, and nobody would love her and then Yosk simply could not stand it.
At heart, Yosk is a social creature. She would like nothing better than to have a huge group of friends, all of which she trusts implicitly and loves, but reality is not so kind and Yosk has the added misfortune of having a severe lack of self-confidence. While she’ll shyly try to befriend anyone who seems friendly – she biases towards ‘pretty’ females or handsome males, though, in a vague, unconscious attempt to balance out what she perceives to be ugliness on her part – it takes a lot for that friendship to be wholehearted and completely trusting; it won’t be uncommon for Yosk to be on friendly terms with up to ten other people, whers, dragons, firelizards, or Salamandyrs, and only actually like the company of two or three, because she’s simply paranoid. Even the smallest negative gesture will be misconstrued and made into something far greater than it actually is, and while Yosk is too shy to point out right away, her paranoia makes her worry and fret that everyone’s just pretending to like her because they feel bad for her, and would they like her better, maybe, if she was prettier? Everyone likes pretty, and Yosk dearly wishes to be. Around those friend/acquaintances that Yosk does not quite trust, this green tends to camouflage herself by acting like them, acting not like herself but like what she feels they would want her to be, because then maybe they would like her better. She’s hesitant to try anything new, just in case she makes a fool of herself and they laugh or tease her, and Yosk is an undeniably flighty creature.
When she’s with her true friends, those she loves, adores, and knows that they return the affection, however, Yosk becomes a downright playful creature, always willing to indulge in games be it something as immature as dolls or as serious as sparring; a vibrant creature, Yosk is, just waiting to be called to the surface by the right friends. Wholehearted, her love becomes, and her opinions will be given freely and earnestly; her secrets will be confided without a second though and she’ll display an edge of wry humor that would not have been expected in such a shy, flighty creature otherwise. While this display of her true self may chase away surprised friends, Yosk can’t help it – she has to show herself to someone, after all. Anyone who chooses to leave her after they’ve reached this real friend rank, though, will hurt Yosk greatly – there’s no better compliment from this green, and while she’ll never attempt revenge, this green’s hurt will be undeniable; she’ll try to avoid whoever committed the crime, won’t talk about it to anybody, and will often try and pretend that it never existed. Denial – not the best way to handle a problem, but it’s the only way Yosk knows, and it’s the only way she can block the hurt of rejection.
Pets:[/u]
Name: Lao
Species: firelizard
Color: Bronze #FA7C00
Age: 10 (hatched 3013)
Physical Appearance: Long, elegant wings are the most noticeable trait of this firelizard; they seem to be unnaturally lengthy for his body, though on the thinner side, which will doubtlessly make him very good at quick twists and turns, though long gliding is out of the question. His body is extremely long and serpentine; in sheer length, he will match smaller queens, though he’s not nearly bulky enough to be considered impressive for his color. Indeed, he’s so streamlined as to appear almost like a vine twisting around surfaces when he lands. His tail is long and thin, but almost seems to just be an extension of his body; it’s very difficult to tell where one ends and the other begins. His build isn’t entirely unattractive, though; he possesses jagged, almost sharp ridges that are distinctly masculine. Coupled with razor-sharp claws that make it clear that he’s dangerous, and this is one firelizard that looks quite bizarre to behold. He’s not ugly, but he’s certainly not the most elegant example of firelizard body structure.
His color, though, is beyond remarkable. His hide is a backwash of almost luminescent bronze tinged in gold, with a hue more resembling copper than his actual shade. This vivid color is highlighted by a significantly lighter outline around both of his eyes as well as ‘bracelets’ around his limbs where they connect to his hands and feet. Dusting of golden-bronze is visible down his back and over the top of his head, while the same elegant shade disappears down the line of his long tail. Cinnamon speckles add further depth to his body, particularly along his stomach. At a glance, he almost resembles a redfruit pie with his coloring, and combined with the streamlined body structure, it will be very easy for this little fellow to curl into a ball and literally pass himself off as a bubbly pie. Let’s just hope no one gets the urge to taste him and find out that he’s not quite so delicious.
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Personality: There’s no easy way to put it – this bronze is gender-confused. He’s totally convinced that he’s a green. Not a queen – no, he’d never dream of commanding anyone else. But he does think he’s a green and thus will actively flirt with other bronzes, browns, and even blues. It also won’t be unusual for him to flirt with other species, especially salamandyr blues and browns. Isn’t he just the prettiest little green ever? He’ll also only acquiesce to being referred to as a green – so if His ever calls him her ‘bronze’ he’ll simply ignore her. The same goes for someone calling ‘Hey bronze!’ – he just won’t respond. He’s a green. A green! Never mind that his hide doesn’t even look remotely green (as some bronzes have a mossy coloration, his is simply remarkably red), he knows he’s right and it’s not his fault that those around him can’t use their eyes properly. He’s far too sweet to ever be a bronze. Bronzes are mean. He’s not mean, thank you very much. He’s continually frustrated that he can’t get good and glowy to Fly, though – maybe he’s a sterile green? Yes, that must be it, because he is a green! A green!
Imagine his surprise the first time a gold firelizard Flies around him and he feels compelled to chase…? This bronze green will be baffled, and even upset. His will have to console him because he’s never going to accept that he’s not a green. Good thing some green salamandyrs chase other greens – it might actually help convince him he’s not that odd. Or maybe it’ll make it worse. Who knows
With his mindmate, he’s extraordinarily affectionate – downright sickeningly sweet, even. He loves to perch on His and he’s very fond of little nuzzles, nudges and touches. When His is upset, he’ll sing and croon – interestingly, he’s a good singer when he wants to be, as he has a very sweet ‘voice.’ He’s also very smart, despite being odd. When he’s asked to deliver messages or fetch objects, he’ll do just that – no questions asked, and he doesn’t need lengthy explanations. Despite being convinced he’s a green, he really isn’t as forgetful as the color he claims to be, and his intelligence rivals that of most golds. He’s just… quirky. Yes, quirky. We’ll go with that. But at least he’s loyal! His is his favorite person ever, after all, and he’ll do anything to make her happy… as long as she understands: he’s a green not a bronze. But she’s smart enough to do that, isn’t she? Oh yes, she is. Because she’s the best.
Name: The Devil
Species: salamandyr
Color: Green #9EFFC5
Age: 9 (hatched 3014)
Physical Appearance: This green is actually on the large side, and, as if to make up for her dismal lack of intelligence, is actually extremely well-proportioned. Her body is not slim, though; this female is actually very muscular, giving her a rather thick look. While this may have marked her out as being odd-looking given that it limits her maneuverability and speed greatly, her entire body seems to be made to fit, from long, strong legs that can carry her with reasonable speeds – certainly nobody’s going to be calling this female slow – to a tail that’s quite thick, but very long to make up for it and almost prehensile. She’ll be able to use it to pick things up, swing from fingers and wrists using it, and snap it like a whip if she so desires. Her head is slightly on the large side, though with large liquid eyes to make up for it, and a snub nose that some will consider cute and others consider ugly – beauty is, after all, in the eye of the beholder. Her wings, however, are huge: Easily large enough to have her gliding or even flying if she manages to figure out how to use the winds to her advantage (unlikely).
In color, this green is stunningly pale. Her hide is mint green, a matte color so bright and so pale at the same time that it can be blinding and makes it hard to see where each part of her ends and the next begins, for even shadows and highlights on her hide are negligible. Fortunately, a drizzle of darker green runs down her back – and very dark, it is. It borderlines black, standing out sharply from her hide. It looks honestly as if someone’s dropped a black thread along her back, for it twists from side to side, never running straight down her spine, or settling until it fades back into her original pale mint shade halfway down her long tail. Always the line is crisp and it’s possible to find an exact place where it starts; only the end fades at all. Her frill, however, which is quite large and will look quite impressive when displayed, does fade: From her original color that extends outwards, the color turns about halfway out darker and darker until it hits the very edges of her frill, which are almost pitch black.
Personality: This green isn’t as intelligent as some of her kin happen to be. No doubt she’d like to think she is, but she just…isn’t. Her memory is, frankly, horrible; she can’t remember words or phrases that she hasn’t heard recently and even so, she picks up only a few words or a single phrase that she recycles until the next catches her attention and replaces it. Surprisingly, this works quite well, though, for this green Salamandyr was never destined to be a bold leader: She was Hatched a minion and she’s very good at that. Very often she’ll latch onto the largest or shiniest Salamandyr around (and only Salamandyr – dragons and firelizards she absolutely cannot stand, and humans are only tolerated) and bounce around after them, reinforcing whatever they say by mimicking them and strutting around as if she was really important. All comets need tails, after all. And really, she does make a good ‘tail’ (i.e. minion); this green purrs, sucks up, and is generally extremely obedient.
If she could be, let there be no mistake – this green wants to be the comet, and not the tail, in the equation, but though she tries to plot, will occasionally try to be venomous, try to be sarcastic and sneering, she’ll never accomplish it. Some people were just never meant to be noticed, and this female happens to be one of them. However, she does have the intelligence to know that – and she’s bitter about it, yes she is. Not openly (then she’d be abandoned by those that she trails around after!), but to herself and to her Bonded. Her person usually gets the brunt of her temper, her (admittedly incoherent) lectures and frustrated tongue-lashings, as well as physical attacks when her temper is particularly short and she knows that her babbling and hissing is not quite getting her point across. The sickly sweetness directed towards other Salamandyrs…? Nowhere in sight.
Name: Denial
Species: firelizard
Color: Green #66CC66
Age: 8 (hatched 3015)
Physical Appearance: The peculiar lack of functionally sized limbs holds as true for this green as it does for the rest of her firelizard siblings. Aside from that, however, her proportions are all fairly average, if somewhat more streamlined along the trunk of her body. This little one seems to have been hatched with the innate knowledge of how to live what amounts to a limbless life, however, tucking in her tiny appendages and literally slithering along the ground. Her wings, too, seem to have been specially adapted to the peculiarities of her form, as they are exceptionally long and slender, folding tight along her flanks to keep them out of harm's way.
A dusky, dull matte green, there isn't anything terribly distinctive or interesting about her coloring. All her markings are grey, and take after the usual markings of salamandyrs rather than firelizards. Her underbelly shades more toward grey, the color reappearing in spots that are more unclosed outlines of circles rather than perfect spheres. Although she is capable of flight, due to the elongated nature of her wings the action is awkward at best, and she spends most of her time on the ground or swimming, which the green is specially adapted for.
Personality: Dull coloring does not at all equate to a dull personality, at least not in this firelizard. Though it's true that she rarely makes a sound, the green is nothing short of hyperactive. She simply must investigate everything, particularly if it has the potential to yield up a tasty treat. This firelizard is also something of a bottomless pit when it comes to food, scarfing things down until her belly is quite distended, then coiling up on a safe shelf somewhere to sleep it off enough so that it's comfortable for her to move again. Nor is she at all picky about what she eats, so you'd best not bring anything edible around near her unless you plan to lose it.
Her absolute favorite meal, however, remains salamandyrs, even if they're not particularly easy to catch. The green will chase down any that comes in her vicinity with the full intent of gobbling it right up (whether it happens to be bonded to Hers or not) and as such makes an excellent room guardian if you don't happen to be too fond of the loud little menaces. Of course, this green is smart enough to know that eating talking bugs annoys people, so she's very careful not to do so when one of the two-legged's is looking - including Hers. This little angel, eat someone's pet? Never! Who could think such a thing?
Name: Eve
Species: Firelizard
Colour: Green #68aa00 #bee40f #3d2000
Age: 6 (hatched 3017)
Physical Appearance: Large is a word that could possibly describe this green. She’s not quite large enough to rival a blue in size, but she certainly has the bearing to make it seem so. Her head is feminine with expressive eyes, that follows into an elegant neck. Her shoulders are even and always held “back”, with broad wings capable of an endurance smaller greens can only dream of. This won’t allow her to make too many tricks, but she can fly for a while. Her body is trim and fit and ends in a graceful tail just a tad bit short and thick. The most notable feature about this green is her short legs. The shortness of these limbs makes her body appear elongated. Her short stride and quick gait makes her unsuited to being on the ground, but when she does walk, she makes sure her head is held high.
This green’s hide is a vibrant apple green, like the sun through leaves, with light green-gold flecks. Her most distinct marking is that of a dark wood-brown “tree” that seems to start at her tail and “grow” up her back, branching out along the backs of her wings, following the trails of the veins until they fade completely just beyond mid-wingsail. Aside from the flecks, the rest of this green is without mark.
Personality: To those who like peace and quiet (or perhaps don‘t like birds), this green will be annoying. She likes to sing, and she likes to imitate songbirds. She will sing, and trill, and chirp, and make all sorts of noises as she tries her best to make a song of her own. Something different from the birds. She does, however, greatly dislike harsh noises, like those of a Razorclaw, roaring dragons, and yelling. These sounds she will try to avoid. The best way to woo her and be her friend is to sing to or with her. When she rises she will most likely value the suitor with the best song.
Despite the singing, this green holds a regal air, or at least tries to. Proper manners is a must, and while she is no dainty eater herself, she likes to keep clean. Mud and dirt are utterly off-limits because ladies simply don’t get dirty. She is utterly devoted to Hers and all of Her’s other mindmates, and so fixed on cleanliness that she will try to clean them if she deems them soiled. This won’t be stopped by size, and those who fight her affections will be pinned down (or at least she will try to pin them down) and force them clean, like a fussy mother. Dragons, whers, fire lizards, Salamandyrs, Hers, Her’s friends, no one is beyond a good grooming. If there is no one around to “spit bathe”, then she will be more than content to perch or be near Hers (you never know when those silly bondeds will find a puddle!) and sing until told to be quiet. It will take time to get her to learn that command, but she will…eventually.
Deceased pets:[/u]
Name: Zai
Species: salamandyr
Color: Green #BDF9AD
Age: adult
Physical Appearance: Absolutely tiny for a firelizard, this is one creature that will probably be overlooked most of the time. In fact, she’s about as large as an average-sized bronze salamandyr, to give an idea for how much of size she’s actually lacking. Aside from being dinky, she’s relatively normal in proportions, even being describable as ‘petite’; her facial structure is slender and pretty, complimenting slightly slanted eyes that give her an exotic appearance, though her snout is on the longer side (but not unattractively so). She has a long and slender tail that is more of an accent peace than anything useful; it tends to drag behind her when she’s on the ground, lacking in most mobility, though it’s certainly cute to look at. Her legs are slightly short, but not enough to be noticeable except when she tries to ‘stand’ (something that she does surprisingly often). All-in-all, she’s a diminutive little creature that even those who hate firelizards are liable to find cute to look at. Her most unique trait though is that she has small, curved under claws that ratty-tat-tat whenever she runs across hard surfaces – which she does quite a bit. Flying, she tends to rattle her pinions as well, completely unintentionally – it wouldn’t dawn on her what she’s doing or that she can be annoying. Isn’t she cute?
Her coloring is quite pretty, too. Pale green covers the base of her body, like a dusting of ivy over her skin. This light coloration shimmers silver when she’s caught in the light, so that she resembles a pixie dancing through the air in flight. Over her back is a shade darker of green, interspersed with the light, as if someone took a paint brush and dragged it down her back. Interestingly, the same dark shades look like ‘gloves’ over her hands, adding accent to her otherwise ‘cute’ but not elegant appearance. However, the most unique feature she possesses is her tail, which has dark ringlets all down the base of it like a terran raccoon – strange and lovely to behold, this matched with her small size can make her an extremely charming firelizard. Since she’s so pale, at night it will be very easy to see her darting around like a light in the darkness. The metallic silver-hint of her hide shines all over her body where the lighter colors are, while the darker shades glimmer emerald green – a picture of leafy brilliance. She’s definitely not a green to be scoffed at!
Personality: Perhaps one of the more boring firelizards to hatch, this little female is definitely not energetic. In fact, she spends more time sleeping than awake – and she likes to sleep in the most awkward places, including curled up inside of goblets more often than not. One of her favorite things to do is to curl up in a mug filled with lukewarm klah or wine, her tail hanging over the end of the goblet, and sleep. This can be extremely annoying for people who spend much time in the main hall because there’s a good chance that everyone there will experience a firelizard-tainted drink at least once, and Hers will have to keep a very close eye on her to prevent her from becoming a nuisance of herself. She also has a habit of drinking whatever she’s sleeping in and unfortunately, since she likes to sleep in wine goblets, it’s really not rare to find this firelizard completely buzzed. (Cue bizarre images sent to Hers that are totally irrelevant to any conversation being held and active squealing for no apparent reason – this isn’t a firelizard who holds her liquor well.) The ultimate gift for this little green is to give her a goblet of some kind to sleep in… yes, with liquid; if it’s empty, she doesn’t want it at all. Strange, who, her? Well, everyone has their preferences!
Subdued in personality, some might find this green to be very boring to behold. Aside from sleeping all the time and sending subdued, confusing images, she tends to ‘sing’ when she is awake – though high pitched, off key and nightmarishly so – and frequently lays around, ignoring her surroundings. There’s a reason it’s easy for her to fall asleep. There’s very few things that she has an opinion about and she doesn’t usually inject herself in conversations; she’s a bit of a wallflower primarily due to not paying attention. She’s also not the smartest green to ever hatch so it’s not as though she’ll ever understand complex instructions or… much of anything. Perpetually lost in space, one can expect this firelizard to, when she’s actually awake, have absolutely no recollection of the conversation at hand. Or anything going on around her.
The one thing that can spur a reaction out of her, though, is the mere mention of avians. Or the word, really. Say it around her and she will fly into an absolute panic, screeching at the top of her little lungs and she’ll disappear between to escape the predator – for as long as she can remember that an avian might be nearby which really is only about five minutes, but it can be quite bizarre to behold. Avians are evil and she’s not going to be anybody’s snack
(Zai was killed during the Wasteland Invasion)
Name: Yoalla
Age: 26 (born 2997)
Gender: Female
Sexual Orientation: Bisexual
Rank: Greenhandler
Physical Appearance: Exotic is probably the word for Yoalla’s face, she’s a little darker skinned than average with long dark hair that hangs in a waterfall down her back. Without doubt the attention drawer in her face is the pair of large, dark green eyes. Set under perfectly arched brows and rimmed in black these eyes are slightly slanted and far older and more knowing than face they occupy, and though she is no raving beauty Yoalla is an attractive person.
Yoalla has a consciously provocative manner, one that she worked on for years until her natural movement is a challenging strut, her natural glance is a practiced sidelong invitation. Even Yoalla’s stance is a doxie’s, straight up with her shoulders pulled slightly back to display her body to best effect, one hip or the other permanently cocked in invitation. It’s only in unguarded moments, or deadly serious times that Yoalla loses the mannerisms she picked up as a young prostitute.
Yoalla tends to come off as non-threatening simply because she’s small, standing at 5’2’’ in her bare feet and built lightly, she’s worked hard on building muscle and training with her weapons to pull her weight in the night watch but you’d never know it to look at her. To emphasise her petite frame Yoalla’s clothing tends to be loose for freedom of movement in her work, and to hang away from the hidden daggers she carries to discourage human trouble makers on her watch.
Personality: Like her body Yoalla’s personality wears the mannerisms of a high class doxie, learned in her youth in Bitra hold, she steps out boldly, meets stares with a sidelong gaze and absentmindedly flirts and makes innuendos throughout casual conversations.
Lurking behind the outer defensive layer is a spirited young woman who is determined to protect not only those she loves but also those she owes her loyalty to, in fact when her loyalty is placed, it’s placed so firmly it would take a major betrayal to shake it but once it’s lost it eill take years to renew, if it can be renewed at all. Her first loyalty goes to Yosk and her other mindmates, always and without question, friends and lovers will always play second fiddle to the motley collection of creatures Yoalla gathers about her. Her second loyalty goes to whers, not just those of the night watch but the whole species, she’ll always stand up to anyone she finds speaking badly of whers, even golds.
Yoalla is a personable sort, she likes to talk to people on a casual basis as well as a professional one, but she often lacks a great deal in the way of subtlety. People can always tell what she dislikes by her expression, and if she has something to say, she’ll say it, most often loudly.
History: Yolin was harper journeyman who had the misfortune to take his first permanent position at Bitra hold. Upon his arrival there he found that all the rumours about the place were quite close to true, except the one about the Lord Holder and the ox. That WAS a complete fabrication (judging by the appearance of the Lord’s children Yolin would have bet on an ugly tunnelsnake himself). Anyway, the appearance of the Lord holder’s children aside, Yolin was generally disgusted with being assigned to a pit of moral depravity and really thought his masters had it in for him.
However Yolin was a lusty young man and he was soon to be found paying frequent visits to the less expensive houses of pleasure, those being the bordels he could afford to visit. A certain lady named Ayalla quickly became his favoured doxie.
After about a turn at Bitra Yolin was reassigned, much to his relief, and left the hold without another thought, glad to see the back of the place at last. What Yolin didn’t know was that he left his former favourite doxie pregnant. Unsurprisingly in due time the child was born, a girl with nothing of her father in her but his dark green eyes. Ayalla choose to call her daughter Yoalla, following the established and unremarkable tradition.
Yoalla couldn’t honestly remember a time when her mother’s bordel wasn’t poor, in good times there was enough on the table and no more, and in bad times Yoalla wasn’t the only one who lay awake at night curled around an empty belly.
Yoalla never thought her childhood was different, there were other accidental children of doxies and spintries inhabiting the brothel, most often their parents didn’t have families to send the superfluous children to. There was always an empty room, a basket of rag toys, or the streets when Yoalla or one of the other children annoyed the madam or the customers.
The streets seemed to be where a great deal of children ended up in bitra hold, playing in the muck, eating things grubbed from garbage heaps and waiting to fill mass graves. Yoalla was always wary of these other, wilder children, keeping wary eyes on those who begged or stole while she and the other bordel brats played at hand clapping games or worked on mending and other simple tasks. This is not to say that Yoalla herself was not light-fingered on occasion, only that she limited herself to petty thefts of food or small amounts of unattended coin. In her mind, even as a child, anyone who left marks just lying around deserved to lose them.
Yoalla was vaguely aware that sometimes the older children would vanish one day. Their parent, or the madam, would come and lead them away somewhere. Then they weren’t seen again. This puzzled Yoalla until she was almost eight turns old. A much older boy than her, a stocky lad of nearly fourteen with an amateur singing voice that brought in a little more coin told her flat out when he noted her looking about for those who vanished.
’Forget it Yoalla, theys gone. Either to the mines or to other bordels worse than this ‘un. Leastways madam don’t sell children here.’That sentence burned into Yoalla’s mind with the force of a hot iron. People were selling their littles to the mines like fugitives? At least the sale of children to other bordels was easier to understand. Yoalla had a fairly good idea of what it was that her mother and the other doxies sold now, though the spintries confused her yet. She found the idea of being sold of to a bordel that would sell her body that way distasteful and more than a little frightening.
Yoalla and her little gang of bordel brats were no fools, when they reached a certain age it occurred to all of them that they were a drain on resources, especially since the madam frequently told them they were eating up her profit. They foraged in garbage heaps for anything vaguely edible or worth a little coin, filling baskets with bits of coal and wood that might be burnable once they dried out, scraps of cloth big enough to be useful, anything that someone might buy at a dozen bits for 1/32 mark.
As well as picking up anything with a cash value, however small, the borel’s children would also pick up anything mildly edible. Many a meal was enhanced by the addition of a few small tubers that had only gone a bit green or some meat that would be fine once the mould was cut away. Some of the older children got bolder in their search for a little extra food and formed hunting gangs that roved around the hold, targeting the feral dogs, cats, and hogs that were their constant competition for food. Once stewed even the mangiest cur was edible.
Muck trawling and hunting down feral animals had it’s risks, aside from disease, which the children were quite resistant to there was always a risk that some animal would evade their crude traps and savage them, and on four separate occasions their traps were stolen and dismantled before they could lead their victim back to it. In which case everyone would scatter and attempt to climb the nearest walls. In addition to this the bordel gang were sometimes swept up in turf wars between gangs of street children, in which non-combatant status was not a viable option.
On several occasions in such battles for territory Yoalla was swept off the streets and held with street children who were destined for hard labour. Such times were among the worst of Yoalla’s young life, for if she wasn’t claimed by her mother, or at least someone with work, she’d be sold off with the street children. At such times Yoalla always held a nagging fear that this time no one would come for her, although she intellectually knew someone would. Even if her mother no longer cared about her he would still care about the coin she could gain from selling Yoalla for herself, on that basis even the madam would claim children from the bordel back.
Yoalla’s mother was always frail, part of her appeal to many customers no doubt, so it came as no real surprise when she caught yet another pox from some customer or another towards the end of Yoalla’s eleventh turn. Though she seemed for a while to be making a steady recovery Ayalla finally gave up and died just two days after her daughter’s twelfth birthing day.
Ayalla’s body was removed and burned, her room scrubbed back to the bare boards, and her bedding burned, for though the madam was a skinflint she didn’t want any of her other girls dying from some pox. Yoalla was assigned to keeping busy for the next few days, to take her mind off things the madam said, though how chopping kittens for stew meat was supposed to make her feel any better Yoalla didn’t know. She did her best to make herself very useful indeed, despite her sorrow, because she didn’t want to be sold off to the mines for a little extra meat money.
However no matter how useful she was Yoalla was to be sold, she was bringing in no coin, thanks to madam’s principle of not selling children, so she had to go. Within a sevenday of Ayalla’s death the madam had a good sale for Yoalla, who was growing to be a pretty, if frail seeming, young girl, with a prosperous bordello that catered for richer customers. Madam could see good in all sides of the arrangement, she was getting more coin for the girl than she’s normally take in a few days, and Yoalla would be getting a good place in a nice bordel. How many girls would fight for a place like that? However even when she extolled the virtues of such a position to Yoalla she found the girl reluctant, well more totally hysterical.
Hysteria aside Yoalla was taken to her new bordel by the madam of that place, a solid, no nonsense woman called Raasheen. Yoalla was unceremoniously, stripped and scrubbed upon her arrival in her new home, then subjected to a haircut, and fittings for some working clothes to be made up for her. Yoalla endured all this in a state of numb shock. She had been sold, but not to the mines.
Raasheen had opening speech about Yoalla’s new position that was as plain and no nonsense as the madam herself. It was long, blunt and full of enough information to make Yoalla’s head spin. She would be trained after her first customer, taught to cook, clean, read, write, and figure numbers as well as learning the arts of her profession in case a wealthy man should wish to buy up her contract. She would learn to speak properly, and comport herself with dignity appropriate to her employers household. She would be fitted with brand new clothes to wear with customers and given clothes for everyday wear as well. She would share chores with the rest of the household as soon as she learned to do them properly. She would not leave without permission and if she tried to run away Raasheen would hunt her down and take everything out of Yoalla’s hide. And those were just the bits that made sense to Yoalla.
In the five days it took Raasheen to arrange for Yoalla’s first customer (Raasheen had a particular customer in mind) the girl grew used to the relative luxuries of her new bordel, all the food she could eat whenever she wanted it and nearly new clothes. All the involvement she’d had with customers so far was to serve wine and look pretty; she even began to hope the Raasheen would find no customer who wanted such a skinny little scrap as her.
However one afternoon Raasheen came for Yoalla and told her to dress up in her new working clothes, gaudy garments that Yoalla disliked compared to the simple shirts and skirts she’d been given, and report to her. Yoalla knew her time had come and she was scared. She fussed with her clothes as much as she could, to buy a little more time but in the end she knew she had nowhere to escape to. She put on a brave face and reported to madam Raasheen trembling only slightly. She could do this. It had to be easy otherwise people wouldn’t do it for a living over other work would they?
’Be respectful. He’s a dragonrider. Raasheen said and pushed her into the room. The door closed behind her and Yoalla trembled, knowing her fate.
After that experience Yoalla decided quite firmly that she did not like dragonriders and never wanted to see that man again. But luck was not with Yoalla as said dragonrider was a regular customer with marks burning a hole in his pocket and a passion for young girls.
Eventually Yoalla settled to the life of a working girl. She knew she had it better than most, she lived in relative luxury compared to most of the girls in bitra. She didn’t have to put up with fleas, street corners and rough customers and Raasheen was happy to provide a selection of totally foul herbal teas to keep her girls from having any babies.
It seemed that the ongoing war between Benden and Fort was reaching a new level of hostility. It wasn’t uncommon to see a wing of dragons in the sky every few days, and many of the riders that came to Raasheen’s establishment were injured or scarred. Loose talking customers all had an opinion about the war but Yoalla never really formed one, except that it was really making dragonriders ugly.
Turns whiled away, as turns will, while Yoalla learned her figures and letters, worked at chores, serviced innumerable customers. At sixteen Yoalla was shocked by the condition of one of her customers, she was used to seeing scars on dragonriders now but this man was quite remarkably scarred, not only was he missing his right hand, a great injury in itself, but he was marked with a burn scar over most of his chest and a long silver scar across his face that was very strange to Yoalla’s eyes. She couldn’t help what she blurted out. ’What happened to you?’
‘Well maybe if you’re good I’ll tell you.’ Well Yoalla must have been good because the rider, greenrider N’nam, explained that his most recent injuries were from fighting thread and the subsequent battle. At first Yoalla disbelieved, but something in N’nam’s eyes when he said that she’d be seeing a lot more threadscores made her believe him at last.
N’nam was a frequent visitor to Yoalla in coming months, and he never hesitated to share anything he considered important with Yoalla. She actually began to feel a vague affection for the maimed greenrider, after a while even his lack of a hand seemed to be more a part of his eccentric personality than disfigurement. Sometimes, in his cups, N’nam would talk of buying Yoalla’s contract for a turn or so, but he was only a greenrider, and now a non combatant thread fighter, and Yoalla’s contract now cost more than she herself had cost at twelve turns of age.
Mostly N’nam and the other customers were full of gossip and rumour about where they’d come from, however N’nam was the most useful for dropping something useful in Yoalla’s ear. ’C'leon’s said to be steaming, one of the goldriders has buggered off south.’ ‘C’leon took his bronze to the southern Weyr to catch their gold. Can you believe it?’ Yoalla was careful to keep such pieces of gossip between her teeth, knowing that benden wouldn’t want everyone knowing their business, and that N’nam would be punished if anyone found the rumours came from him.
Over the next two turns all the rumour seemed to be about the southern Weyr Selenitas. Yoalla couldn’t see why the northern Weyrs were so interested in them, weren’t they a long way off? And couldn’t Fort keep hold of their queens, another one had vanished off somewhere, or so she was told. At least N’nam wasn’t in on the schemes, Yoalla didn’t think she’d like him as much if he was.
Things continued as they always did in madam Raasheen’s house of delights until September of the sixth turn of the tenth pass. N’nam arrived a good deal more jubilant than usual. C’leon was dead, Baith, the senior queen was nominally in charge, and N’nam said he had a plan.
His plan turned out to be buying Yolla’s contract for a few month, Yoalla failed to see how this was a plan, and also failed to see how N’nam ha come by the marks for that. He declined to say on the second score, but explained that he wanted to drop her off in the south. Yoalla was highly mystified and told N’nam to get to the point before they both died of old age. With this incentive N’nam elaborated that his green had pointed Yoalla out as a potential candidate, and that benden would no doubt be searching soon. N’nam didn’t want Yoalla to be taken to benden, a sentiment that she could wholeheartedly agree with. Privately she thought N’nam’s plan was a pile of dragon dung, and was still suspicious about how he came by that many marks, but as she didn’t have a better plan Yoalla agreed.
Pretty soon she found herself paid for, bundled up and hanging on behind N’nam as his dragon bounded upward. She was having severe second thoughts about the whole flying business when they suddenly weren’t in the sky anymore, or indeed anywhere apparently. Then they were flying through a totally different part of the sky. So that was Between…
N’nam dropped Yoalla and her stuff off at Blossom hold, which was as close to the Weyr as he really wanted to get. As he left Yoalla realised that N’nam hadn’t explained how he was going to explain this to madam Raasheen.
Despite being told by N’nam that she would make a good candidate Yoalla had to spend nearly a week flaunting herself in front of the watchdragon before the old blue looked her way. She almost suspected him of being blind.
Shorthly after Yoalla’s arrival at Selenitas a bunch of dragonriders from an unkown Weyr (although Yoalla came to suspect High Reaches, simply because Benden and Fort had enough queens) appeared on the sands and attempted to steal one of the dragon eggs. Yoalla, along with several others, was embroiled in a fight to drive off the invaders and save the eggs. The effort was successful, but the invaders did not leave Selenitas unscathed, one of the southern dragons was killed before the invaders were dealt with.
However when it the time came for the eggs to hatch it turned out that Yoalla didn’t have a dragon among them, maybe she wasn’t as great as N’nam thought, at candidacy at least. Still with the queen climbing the stands and a green Impress the man who had his dragon killed in the fight over these eggs it hardly seemed that there were many female dragons left.
Not long after a wild wher laid a clutch of seven in the wher quarters, and out of curiosity about the beasts Yoalla went to their hatching, and for her troubles was clawed by the baby gold, which was probably the beginning of Yoalla’s antipathy toward the golden dragon kin. She also Impressed the last wher, a pale green, who proclaimed herself to be Yosk.
Yosk was pretty (for a wher at least), sweet, and absolutely devoted, but unfortunately she was also terribly meek and shy, and while Yoalla roomed with Ariya (the only other female to Impress) and her bronze lump of ego Yoalla was totally unable to convince Yosk she was anything but worthless, which added another strike against metallic hides in Yoalla’s opinion.
One small thing did gain a point for the metallics with Yoalla, Lao, a firelizard from a wild clutch that she Impressed more or less by falling over. However the confused little beast thought he was female and a green, and Yoalla treated him as such when it seemed she couldn’t change his mind.
A great deal of Weyr activity passed Yoalla by as she adapted to the night life, attended lessons, and eventually helped her fellow wherhandlers to reform the Night Watch. However one thing that didn’t pass anyone in the wher quarters by was an invasion by Fort Weyr.
Summoned to the hatching sands in the middle of the day (which was the middle of the night for wherhandlers), Yoalla was somewhat dazed to begin with, but apparently not too dazed to lecture a weyrling queen, or realise the half blind whers weren’t the best defenders of doors. However every point became moot as those within the hatching ground were forced to evacuate by a fire.
Yoalla might not have liked Yosk’s golden sister but Eikask’s clutch of seven was, naturally, a very good thing for the wher quarters since the wher population had almost doubled, and there was not a gold among them and the one bronze of the clutch acted more like a certain playful brother of Yosk’s had done.
Though most of the Weyr events did tend to pass by the wherhandlers, the takeover of Selenitas by northern riders was very hard to ignore, particularly since said riders took pains to wake the wherhandlers and inform them they were trapped. Yoalla always knew they needed windows, however since diving out of one wasn’t an option, Yoalla was forced to wait it out with her fellow wherhandlers.
The ‘new management’, as Yoalla always thought of them, didn’t much change things for the wherhandlers, probably because they thought whers were beneath them. Later that turn Yoalla decided they thought all things were beneath them as she heard talk of the new management killing newly Impressed dragons on the hatching sands.
As the turn turned there was talk from the dragonriders about the exiles who’d escaped during the takeover stealing tithes, but no other word until a gather at Hyphen hold where it was said that Ka’rys had been killed along with an unspecified number of others. If the exiles were planning to retake the Weyr and slaughter the new management after that, Yoalla would hardly object at all.
At least Eikask proved she was useful for something that turn by producing a clutch of seven new whers toward the mid part of it. That of course meant more whers that Yosk was convinced she was inferior to as well as a new round of lessons and duty tours for the younglings but at least the night watch was gaining strength.
The rest of 3016 passed uneventfully for the wherhandlers as a change in leadership from Ja’kin to H’nes made no difference to the way the whers and their handlers were treated or their expected duties. Even Millieth’s Rising in early 3017 was nothing for the wher quarters to get excited about.
Yoalla found herself rather charmed by the blue wher who won Yosk’s run in the first months of the turn, however. Blue Swisk was one of the oldest whers and his handler was something of a recluse but the frail seeming blue managed not only to charm Yosk for a night but into a state where her eyes turned pink in a wher’s blush every time she set eyes on the older wher.
A major earthquake in the middle of the night brought chaos direct to everyone from the youngest weyrbrat to the oldest granny. The Wherhand;er’s quarters behind the waterfall had almost totally been destroyed and many were injured or outright killed in the quake. The surviving whers soon set to digging out the rest of the Weyr, which was in far worse shape as most people had been in bed at the time. Many more riders and weyrfolk had been killed than handlers, and many more would need medical attention that they weren’t going to get thanks to a caved in infirmary. Things were looking grim.
The grimness was lifted slightly by a visit from some exile riders, who brought in some supplies and healers and made the strange offer to merge the two Weyrs together in their underground Weyr. Since Selenitas was near totally levelled that plan went ahead and soon the old Weyr was left to the dust, the weeds, the felines, and the wild whers.
During the the merge with Burimyu, which was quickly renamed New Selenitas Eikane was offered a seat on the council. Probably, Yoalla reflected, because his wher was shiny, all the dragonriders respected was shine she was sure, and never mind that no goldrider sat on that council and that E’rro’s and Darya’s dragons shone not a bit.
Millieth’s clutch passed by producing nine new dragons, but Yoalla considered that a minor event compared to hatching of seven whers from Eikask’s six eggs. Whers had dragons beat this time as their egg twins were green and blue, not at all identical. Even though a second gold joined the ranks of the whers Yoalla couldn’t find it in her to be too upset since Kaiusk, as she named herself, was a much kinder and less arrogant soul than her mother.
Yoalla’s collection of pets were lucky enough to avoid the illness that killed many of the firelizards and salamandyrs in the Weyr toward the end of the turn otherwise she might well have been one of those who sent her pets to be treated with experimental drugs.
Life seemed to slowly be getting better, but to bring it down again Darmori and Darmosk were attacked and killed in the first months of 3018 by creatures that became commonly described as ‘monsters’ later on. Yoalla was one of those who rode out that cold night to drive off the beasts and teach them to fear whers. The operation was a partial success, the beasts were routed and one was taken back the weyr for futher study, a dead one, but in the coming months the wherhandler would encounter the creatures more frequently.
Although 3019 brought unlikely allies and an end to the great war Yoalla was not personally involved, though Yosk, by some quirk of genetics, could fly her temperament and pale colour made her a bad choice for scouting out ways to infiltrate Fort Weyr. The most excitement the turn had to offer Yoalla was more feline and monster hunting.
The 3020 summit was the first major set of decisions that effected the wherhandlers of Selenitas that Yoalla could remember. It was therefore something of a shame that the result was every handler with a craft being reassigned to a hold unless they could come up with a good reason otherwise. Shortly after that Yoalla and Swithin decided to move in together, their whers still had as much adoration for each other as they had several turns ago, and Yoalla would have roomed with a ninety year old lecher to keep Yosk happy. Fortunately Swithin was anything but and hardly complained about sharing his room with three firelizards and a salamandyr as well as Yoalla and Yosk. Though many were discontent with the lot placed on them by the summit Yoalla found herself content if not actually happy.
Wher:
Name: Yosk
Color: Green #BEE8B5
Age: 10 (hatched 3013)
Physical Appearance: Yosk is one of the creatures who walks the borderline between plain and incredibly beautiful – though she seems to see only the ugly parts of herself and never really recognizes how pretty she could be taken for if only she tried to work to her advantage. She’s neither long nor short, simply average in length, with thick shoulders and a body to which a slight amount of fat clings. Though Yosk will undoubtedly be desperate to work it off, she’ll never manage it: She’s simply naturally chubby, though if she stood straight, even that would be unnoticeable and Yosk would look nothing short of slender. However, Yosk doesn’t – she always has her head low and her tail down, both wings often spread cautiously just in case she has to make a quick escape – and lovely large wings they are, too, but the way she holds them, stiffly, makes them look rather silly sometimes, given the angle. Her legs are curving, thick near the shoulder and hindquarters and becoming slender until they’re positively skinny around the ankles, giving her dual-toed paws the illusion of being larger than they actually are. Her eyes are extremely large, making her entire face look too small and giving her a perpetually hungry or astonished appearance, and Yosk is extremely insecure about her eyes, going as far as to narrow them on purpose to make them look smaller. They’re just horrible, aren’t they?!
She’s also terrified of how graceful she is (or isn’t). In Yosk’s opinion, she looks downright awkward maneuvering around things and simply just moving in general, and always prefers to be standing still when she’s talking to someone – that way she can occasionally hopefully remember to keep her posture correct and not a slouching, submissive, don’t-look-at-me slink as it usually is. Despite all of her fussiness, however, Yosk truly is quite a sight when she’s moving and not slinking along – she can go quite fast for short distances, and though her pace will always look just a little undignified – after all, if you think you’re clumsy, you will be – she’s not nearly as bad off as Yosk honestly thinks; her pace just looks a little like she’s not quite in control of her limbs and it’s more of a bouncy galloping pace than anything else. In flying, however, Yosk will be nothing short of magnificent – assuming Hers ever gets her in the air! Yosk is undoubtedly going to protest the idea of learning to fly anywhere where anyone could be watching her (and she’s incredibly paranoid of that), so Hers will have to find a nice, secret place before Yosk tries anything. Once she does, though, it’ll be clear she’s a natural…her wings and desire to be the best she can will see to that.
On one hand, Yosk’s color might be her crowning glory; on another – to her – it’s incredibly bad. People associate paleness with Fort, do they not? It breaks Yosk’s heart to be compared to Fort; she associates Northern with bad without any back-up logic, after all. But she does resemble the dragons of Grenostith’s brood in that her hide is incredibly, incredibly pale in shade, a once cheerful shade of spring green overlaid so many times with a translucent white that it’s become nearly completely white with only a tinge of green to hint at her coloration. Very subtly, the shade shifts from dark to light in such a way as to look just like natural shadows thrown onto Yosk, and slightly darker swirls brush against her hindquarters, and – something that Yosk will never know she possesses unless it’s pointed out to her – very, very dark swirls of a bright green start at a point just behind her eyes and swirl upwards and downwards on both sides of her eye in a design very much like that inscribed onto many masks. Both sides of her face are exactly the same, to the point of being literally symmetrical. Beautiful or ugly? – but, after all, beauty is in the eye of the beholder.
Personality: Yosk is incredibly insecure. No amount of informing her that she’s adorable, sweet, beautiful, etc. and so forth, will ever have any discernable effect on this green’s self-confidence. Only Hers will be trusted to love her implicitly, and Hers’ attention will be valued above all else. While in the company of others, she may ask Hers not to fawn over her just so that she doesn’t look silly, but in reality she’ll always love any affection given to her by Hers, though negative attention will have Yosk cringing and whimpering and pleading for apology, regardless of whether or not it’s her fault. Because, you see, Hers is always right, so surely if Yosk’s thinks that it’s her fault, it was? Even if she doesn’t remember? It has to be! If it’s not, then Hers would be wrong and that is simply impossible, liking asking a dragon to shrink to the size of a fire-lizard – just not right. Even though she might sulk about Hers’ decisions, in the end Yosk will always forgive, always forget, always start anew just so Hers still loves her…if Hers didn’t, who would? She’s not too pretty, after all, and nobody would love her and then Yosk simply could not stand it.
At heart, Yosk is a social creature. She would like nothing better than to have a huge group of friends, all of which she trusts implicitly and loves, but reality is not so kind and Yosk has the added misfortune of having a severe lack of self-confidence. While she’ll shyly try to befriend anyone who seems friendly – she biases towards ‘pretty’ females or handsome males, though, in a vague, unconscious attempt to balance out what she perceives to be ugliness on her part – it takes a lot for that friendship to be wholehearted and completely trusting; it won’t be uncommon for Yosk to be on friendly terms with up to ten other people, whers, dragons, firelizards, or Salamandyrs, and only actually like the company of two or three, because she’s simply paranoid. Even the smallest negative gesture will be misconstrued and made into something far greater than it actually is, and while Yosk is too shy to point out right away, her paranoia makes her worry and fret that everyone’s just pretending to like her because they feel bad for her, and would they like her better, maybe, if she was prettier? Everyone likes pretty, and Yosk dearly wishes to be. Around those friend/acquaintances that Yosk does not quite trust, this green tends to camouflage herself by acting like them, acting not like herself but like what she feels they would want her to be, because then maybe they would like her better. She’s hesitant to try anything new, just in case she makes a fool of herself and they laugh or tease her, and Yosk is an undeniably flighty creature.
When she’s with her true friends, those she loves, adores, and knows that they return the affection, however, Yosk becomes a downright playful creature, always willing to indulge in games be it something as immature as dolls or as serious as sparring; a vibrant creature, Yosk is, just waiting to be called to the surface by the right friends. Wholehearted, her love becomes, and her opinions will be given freely and earnestly; her secrets will be confided without a second though and she’ll display an edge of wry humor that would not have been expected in such a shy, flighty creature otherwise. While this display of her true self may chase away surprised friends, Yosk can’t help it – she has to show herself to someone, after all. Anyone who chooses to leave her after they’ve reached this real friend rank, though, will hurt Yosk greatly – there’s no better compliment from this green, and while she’ll never attempt revenge, this green’s hurt will be undeniable; she’ll try to avoid whoever committed the crime, won’t talk about it to anybody, and will often try and pretend that it never existed. Denial – not the best way to handle a problem, but it’s the only way Yosk knows, and it’s the only way she can block the hurt of rejection.
Pets:[/u]
Name: Lao
Species: firelizard
Color: Bronze #FA7C00
Age: 10 (hatched 3013)
Physical Appearance: Long, elegant wings are the most noticeable trait of this firelizard; they seem to be unnaturally lengthy for his body, though on the thinner side, which will doubtlessly make him very good at quick twists and turns, though long gliding is out of the question. His body is extremely long and serpentine; in sheer length, he will match smaller queens, though he’s not nearly bulky enough to be considered impressive for his color. Indeed, he’s so streamlined as to appear almost like a vine twisting around surfaces when he lands. His tail is long and thin, but almost seems to just be an extension of his body; it’s very difficult to tell where one ends and the other begins. His build isn’t entirely unattractive, though; he possesses jagged, almost sharp ridges that are distinctly masculine. Coupled with razor-sharp claws that make it clear that he’s dangerous, and this is one firelizard that looks quite bizarre to behold. He’s not ugly, but he’s certainly not the most elegant example of firelizard body structure.
His color, though, is beyond remarkable. His hide is a backwash of almost luminescent bronze tinged in gold, with a hue more resembling copper than his actual shade. This vivid color is highlighted by a significantly lighter outline around both of his eyes as well as ‘bracelets’ around his limbs where they connect to his hands and feet. Dusting of golden-bronze is visible down his back and over the top of his head, while the same elegant shade disappears down the line of his long tail. Cinnamon speckles add further depth to his body, particularly along his stomach. At a glance, he almost resembles a redfruit pie with his coloring, and combined with the streamlined body structure, it will be very easy for this little fellow to curl into a ball and literally pass himself off as a bubbly pie. Let’s just hope no one gets the urge to taste him and find out that he’s not quite so delicious.
.
Personality: There’s no easy way to put it – this bronze is gender-confused. He’s totally convinced that he’s a green. Not a queen – no, he’d never dream of commanding anyone else. But he does think he’s a green and thus will actively flirt with other bronzes, browns, and even blues. It also won’t be unusual for him to flirt with other species, especially salamandyr blues and browns. Isn’t he just the prettiest little green ever? He’ll also only acquiesce to being referred to as a green – so if His ever calls him her ‘bronze’ he’ll simply ignore her. The same goes for someone calling ‘Hey bronze!’ – he just won’t respond. He’s a green. A green! Never mind that his hide doesn’t even look remotely green (as some bronzes have a mossy coloration, his is simply remarkably red), he knows he’s right and it’s not his fault that those around him can’t use their eyes properly. He’s far too sweet to ever be a bronze. Bronzes are mean. He’s not mean, thank you very much. He’s continually frustrated that he can’t get good and glowy to Fly, though – maybe he’s a sterile green? Yes, that must be it, because he is a green! A green!
Imagine his surprise the first time a gold firelizard Flies around him and he feels compelled to chase…? This bronze green will be baffled, and even upset. His will have to console him because he’s never going to accept that he’s not a green. Good thing some green salamandyrs chase other greens – it might actually help convince him he’s not that odd. Or maybe it’ll make it worse. Who knows
With his mindmate, he’s extraordinarily affectionate – downright sickeningly sweet, even. He loves to perch on His and he’s very fond of little nuzzles, nudges and touches. When His is upset, he’ll sing and croon – interestingly, he’s a good singer when he wants to be, as he has a very sweet ‘voice.’ He’s also very smart, despite being odd. When he’s asked to deliver messages or fetch objects, he’ll do just that – no questions asked, and he doesn’t need lengthy explanations. Despite being convinced he’s a green, he really isn’t as forgetful as the color he claims to be, and his intelligence rivals that of most golds. He’s just… quirky. Yes, quirky. We’ll go with that. But at least he’s loyal! His is his favorite person ever, after all, and he’ll do anything to make her happy… as long as she understands: he’s a green not a bronze. But she’s smart enough to do that, isn’t she? Oh yes, she is. Because she’s the best.
Name: The Devil
Species: salamandyr
Color: Green #9EFFC5
Age: 9 (hatched 3014)
Physical Appearance: This green is actually on the large side, and, as if to make up for her dismal lack of intelligence, is actually extremely well-proportioned. Her body is not slim, though; this female is actually very muscular, giving her a rather thick look. While this may have marked her out as being odd-looking given that it limits her maneuverability and speed greatly, her entire body seems to be made to fit, from long, strong legs that can carry her with reasonable speeds – certainly nobody’s going to be calling this female slow – to a tail that’s quite thick, but very long to make up for it and almost prehensile. She’ll be able to use it to pick things up, swing from fingers and wrists using it, and snap it like a whip if she so desires. Her head is slightly on the large side, though with large liquid eyes to make up for it, and a snub nose that some will consider cute and others consider ugly – beauty is, after all, in the eye of the beholder. Her wings, however, are huge: Easily large enough to have her gliding or even flying if she manages to figure out how to use the winds to her advantage (unlikely).
In color, this green is stunningly pale. Her hide is mint green, a matte color so bright and so pale at the same time that it can be blinding and makes it hard to see where each part of her ends and the next begins, for even shadows and highlights on her hide are negligible. Fortunately, a drizzle of darker green runs down her back – and very dark, it is. It borderlines black, standing out sharply from her hide. It looks honestly as if someone’s dropped a black thread along her back, for it twists from side to side, never running straight down her spine, or settling until it fades back into her original pale mint shade halfway down her long tail. Always the line is crisp and it’s possible to find an exact place where it starts; only the end fades at all. Her frill, however, which is quite large and will look quite impressive when displayed, does fade: From her original color that extends outwards, the color turns about halfway out darker and darker until it hits the very edges of her frill, which are almost pitch black.
Personality: This green isn’t as intelligent as some of her kin happen to be. No doubt she’d like to think she is, but she just…isn’t. Her memory is, frankly, horrible; she can’t remember words or phrases that she hasn’t heard recently and even so, she picks up only a few words or a single phrase that she recycles until the next catches her attention and replaces it. Surprisingly, this works quite well, though, for this green Salamandyr was never destined to be a bold leader: She was Hatched a minion and she’s very good at that. Very often she’ll latch onto the largest or shiniest Salamandyr around (and only Salamandyr – dragons and firelizards she absolutely cannot stand, and humans are only tolerated) and bounce around after them, reinforcing whatever they say by mimicking them and strutting around as if she was really important. All comets need tails, after all. And really, she does make a good ‘tail’ (i.e. minion); this green purrs, sucks up, and is generally extremely obedient.
If she could be, let there be no mistake – this green wants to be the comet, and not the tail, in the equation, but though she tries to plot, will occasionally try to be venomous, try to be sarcastic and sneering, she’ll never accomplish it. Some people were just never meant to be noticed, and this female happens to be one of them. However, she does have the intelligence to know that – and she’s bitter about it, yes she is. Not openly (then she’d be abandoned by those that she trails around after!), but to herself and to her Bonded. Her person usually gets the brunt of her temper, her (admittedly incoherent) lectures and frustrated tongue-lashings, as well as physical attacks when her temper is particularly short and she knows that her babbling and hissing is not quite getting her point across. The sickly sweetness directed towards other Salamandyrs…? Nowhere in sight.
Name: Denial
Species: firelizard
Color: Green #66CC66
Age: 8 (hatched 3015)
Physical Appearance: The peculiar lack of functionally sized limbs holds as true for this green as it does for the rest of her firelizard siblings. Aside from that, however, her proportions are all fairly average, if somewhat more streamlined along the trunk of her body. This little one seems to have been hatched with the innate knowledge of how to live what amounts to a limbless life, however, tucking in her tiny appendages and literally slithering along the ground. Her wings, too, seem to have been specially adapted to the peculiarities of her form, as they are exceptionally long and slender, folding tight along her flanks to keep them out of harm's way.
A dusky, dull matte green, there isn't anything terribly distinctive or interesting about her coloring. All her markings are grey, and take after the usual markings of salamandyrs rather than firelizards. Her underbelly shades more toward grey, the color reappearing in spots that are more unclosed outlines of circles rather than perfect spheres. Although she is capable of flight, due to the elongated nature of her wings the action is awkward at best, and she spends most of her time on the ground or swimming, which the green is specially adapted for.
Personality: Dull coloring does not at all equate to a dull personality, at least not in this firelizard. Though it's true that she rarely makes a sound, the green is nothing short of hyperactive. She simply must investigate everything, particularly if it has the potential to yield up a tasty treat. This firelizard is also something of a bottomless pit when it comes to food, scarfing things down until her belly is quite distended, then coiling up on a safe shelf somewhere to sleep it off enough so that it's comfortable for her to move again. Nor is she at all picky about what she eats, so you'd best not bring anything edible around near her unless you plan to lose it.
Her absolute favorite meal, however, remains salamandyrs, even if they're not particularly easy to catch. The green will chase down any that comes in her vicinity with the full intent of gobbling it right up (whether it happens to be bonded to Hers or not) and as such makes an excellent room guardian if you don't happen to be too fond of the loud little menaces. Of course, this green is smart enough to know that eating talking bugs annoys people, so she's very careful not to do so when one of the two-legged's is looking - including Hers. This little angel, eat someone's pet? Never! Who could think such a thing?
Name: Eve
Species: Firelizard
Colour: Green #68aa00 #bee40f #3d2000
Age: 6 (hatched 3017)
Physical Appearance: Large is a word that could possibly describe this green. She’s not quite large enough to rival a blue in size, but she certainly has the bearing to make it seem so. Her head is feminine with expressive eyes, that follows into an elegant neck. Her shoulders are even and always held “back”, with broad wings capable of an endurance smaller greens can only dream of. This won’t allow her to make too many tricks, but she can fly for a while. Her body is trim and fit and ends in a graceful tail just a tad bit short and thick. The most notable feature about this green is her short legs. The shortness of these limbs makes her body appear elongated. Her short stride and quick gait makes her unsuited to being on the ground, but when she does walk, she makes sure her head is held high.
This green’s hide is a vibrant apple green, like the sun through leaves, with light green-gold flecks. Her most distinct marking is that of a dark wood-brown “tree” that seems to start at her tail and “grow” up her back, branching out along the backs of her wings, following the trails of the veins until they fade completely just beyond mid-wingsail. Aside from the flecks, the rest of this green is without mark.
Personality: To those who like peace and quiet (or perhaps don‘t like birds), this green will be annoying. She likes to sing, and she likes to imitate songbirds. She will sing, and trill, and chirp, and make all sorts of noises as she tries her best to make a song of her own. Something different from the birds. She does, however, greatly dislike harsh noises, like those of a Razorclaw, roaring dragons, and yelling. These sounds she will try to avoid. The best way to woo her and be her friend is to sing to or with her. When she rises she will most likely value the suitor with the best song.
Despite the singing, this green holds a regal air, or at least tries to. Proper manners is a must, and while she is no dainty eater herself, she likes to keep clean. Mud and dirt are utterly off-limits because ladies simply don’t get dirty. She is utterly devoted to Hers and all of Her’s other mindmates, and so fixed on cleanliness that she will try to clean them if she deems them soiled. This won’t be stopped by size, and those who fight her affections will be pinned down (or at least she will try to pin them down) and force them clean, like a fussy mother. Dragons, whers, fire lizards, Salamandyrs, Hers, Her’s friends, no one is beyond a good grooming. If there is no one around to “spit bathe”, then she will be more than content to perch or be near Hers (you never know when those silly bondeds will find a puddle!) and sing until told to be quiet. It will take time to get her to learn that command, but she will…eventually.
Deceased pets:[/u]
Name: Zai
Species: salamandyr
Color: Green #BDF9AD
Age: adult
Physical Appearance: Absolutely tiny for a firelizard, this is one creature that will probably be overlooked most of the time. In fact, she’s about as large as an average-sized bronze salamandyr, to give an idea for how much of size she’s actually lacking. Aside from being dinky, she’s relatively normal in proportions, even being describable as ‘petite’; her facial structure is slender and pretty, complimenting slightly slanted eyes that give her an exotic appearance, though her snout is on the longer side (but not unattractively so). She has a long and slender tail that is more of an accent peace than anything useful; it tends to drag behind her when she’s on the ground, lacking in most mobility, though it’s certainly cute to look at. Her legs are slightly short, but not enough to be noticeable except when she tries to ‘stand’ (something that she does surprisingly often). All-in-all, she’s a diminutive little creature that even those who hate firelizards are liable to find cute to look at. Her most unique trait though is that she has small, curved under claws that ratty-tat-tat whenever she runs across hard surfaces – which she does quite a bit. Flying, she tends to rattle her pinions as well, completely unintentionally – it wouldn’t dawn on her what she’s doing or that she can be annoying. Isn’t she cute?
Her coloring is quite pretty, too. Pale green covers the base of her body, like a dusting of ivy over her skin. This light coloration shimmers silver when she’s caught in the light, so that she resembles a pixie dancing through the air in flight. Over her back is a shade darker of green, interspersed with the light, as if someone took a paint brush and dragged it down her back. Interestingly, the same dark shades look like ‘gloves’ over her hands, adding accent to her otherwise ‘cute’ but not elegant appearance. However, the most unique feature she possesses is her tail, which has dark ringlets all down the base of it like a terran raccoon – strange and lovely to behold, this matched with her small size can make her an extremely charming firelizard. Since she’s so pale, at night it will be very easy to see her darting around like a light in the darkness. The metallic silver-hint of her hide shines all over her body where the lighter colors are, while the darker shades glimmer emerald green – a picture of leafy brilliance. She’s definitely not a green to be scoffed at!
Personality: Perhaps one of the more boring firelizards to hatch, this little female is definitely not energetic. In fact, she spends more time sleeping than awake – and she likes to sleep in the most awkward places, including curled up inside of goblets more often than not. One of her favorite things to do is to curl up in a mug filled with lukewarm klah or wine, her tail hanging over the end of the goblet, and sleep. This can be extremely annoying for people who spend much time in the main hall because there’s a good chance that everyone there will experience a firelizard-tainted drink at least once, and Hers will have to keep a very close eye on her to prevent her from becoming a nuisance of herself. She also has a habit of drinking whatever she’s sleeping in and unfortunately, since she likes to sleep in wine goblets, it’s really not rare to find this firelizard completely buzzed. (Cue bizarre images sent to Hers that are totally irrelevant to any conversation being held and active squealing for no apparent reason – this isn’t a firelizard who holds her liquor well.) The ultimate gift for this little green is to give her a goblet of some kind to sleep in… yes, with liquid; if it’s empty, she doesn’t want it at all. Strange, who, her? Well, everyone has their preferences!
Subdued in personality, some might find this green to be very boring to behold. Aside from sleeping all the time and sending subdued, confusing images, she tends to ‘sing’ when she is awake – though high pitched, off key and nightmarishly so – and frequently lays around, ignoring her surroundings. There’s a reason it’s easy for her to fall asleep. There’s very few things that she has an opinion about and she doesn’t usually inject herself in conversations; she’s a bit of a wallflower primarily due to not paying attention. She’s also not the smartest green to ever hatch so it’s not as though she’ll ever understand complex instructions or… much of anything. Perpetually lost in space, one can expect this firelizard to, when she’s actually awake, have absolutely no recollection of the conversation at hand. Or anything going on around her.
The one thing that can spur a reaction out of her, though, is the mere mention of avians. Or the word, really. Say it around her and she will fly into an absolute panic, screeching at the top of her little lungs and she’ll disappear between to escape the predator – for as long as she can remember that an avian might be nearby which really is only about five minutes, but it can be quite bizarre to behold. Avians are evil and she’s not going to be anybody’s snack
(Zai was killed during the Wasteland Invasion)
