Post by Rowana on Jul 30, 2011 15:55:49 GMT -5
Humans:
Name: Kyr'n
Age: 25 (Born October 2997)
Gender: Male
Sexual Orientation: Homosexual
Rank: Sr. J. Healer/Sr. A. DragonHealer/Wingrider
Physical Appearance: Tall, at nearly 6'7", Kyrstin is decently muscled, but with thin arms and legs. He is stronger than he looks for certain, though certainly not the strongest. His hands are thin, with long fingers that adapt well to detailed work. His face is narrow and sharp, giving him a hawk like appearance.
He wears practical clothes, for the most part, but is not above the occasional trinket. Greens are some of his favorite colors, as well as reds and blacks. He cuts his thick black hair very short and keeps his face shaven. His bright green eyes are hard and cold, set deep in his face.
Personality: Cold, indifferent and calculating, Kyrstin may not be the best choice for a best friend or a friend at all. He does not approve of frivolous relationships or needless activities. If something useful is not being accomplished, it's not worth doing. He despises weakness in both himself and others, which can make him come off as fairly emotionless. It's not that he doesn't feel emotion, but rather that he doesn't want to risk showing it. He is a puzzle solver, interested in finding interesting and new solutions to any problem. This makes him quite intelligent, but doesn't help him being very nice about it.
Kyrstin has a very low opinion of woman. For him, they fall into two categories: weak and useless, or strong and unnatural. He shuns both kinds, since he hates pathetic woman good for nothing but baring children as well as those with demanding personalities that shouldn't be trying to be like men (not that they are, he just thinks that.) Having neither an interest in families or children, Kyrstin tends to just steer clear of woman when he can and ignore them when he can't. Maybe time will change his attitude.
As a Healer, Kyrstin is probably the last person you want treating you. Not because he's bad. He is, in fact, very good at his job. His bedside manner, however, is not so much unfriendly as nonexistent. He has no interest in the pains or complaints of patients, only in doing what is needed to insure they can keep working. Pain is not his problem and he will frequently not use numbweed unless it's clear his patient can't be treated without it. It's probably best not to bother him with anything less than life threatening injuries or illnesses.
History: Kyrstin was born in Benden Hold, the son of Kyrsia, wife of Brautin. Decently well off, Brautin was a man with ambition. Though not as poor or low class as most, he strived to place himself closer to the Lord Holder's family and gain even more power. He married Kyrsia, a younger daughter of one of the lower noble families after months of convincing them he was good enough.
All was going as planned and the couple were expected their first child, until Kyrsia tearfully confessed that she had been taken by another man. It had been against her will and she had been terrified of what Brautin would do when he found out, but her fearful looks at her swollen belly had betrayed her. Furious and without any way of knowing if the child was truly his, Brautin vented his anger on her and by hunting down the young man in question and seeing too it that he would have a hard time doing such a thing again. A very hard time indeed.
The child was born, a healthy boy, but with startling green eyes that Brautin knew had not come from his or his wife's family. He was faced with a hard choice. He could dispose of the child quietly and risk not having an heir, or raise this boy as his own until his wife had another son. For better or worse, he chose to keep the boy, naming Kyrstin, instead of Brakyr like he'd planned.
At first, Kyrstin grew up well and happy enough, until he was four. Then Kyrsia had her third child, a boy. Young Brakyr was everything his father hoped for. Strong, ambitions and undeniably his. Kyrstin was quickly shunned in favor of Brakyr and the older boy found himself increasing resentful of his younger brother and sister, Siabra. His mother tried to explain, but he was quick to dismiss her apologies. Woman were weak, as his father was always impressing on him. If his mother had been stronger, he would never have been born from another man.
Lonely, unloved and ignored, Kyrstin began to close himself off to the world. Brautin wished he hadn't been born and his birth father was probably some drudge on the street by now. His mother was too weak and pathetic to defend him, and none of the other boys would speak to one who's own father admitted was worthless. Kyrstin spent most of his days taking long walks, getting into fights, and planning for the day he would be old enough to leave home for good.
When he was twelve, he packed the few things he had and left without hardly a word. His plan was to travel to Fort Hold and entered the Healer's Craft. Not that he particularly liked people or medicine, but because word was they would take anyone and Fort was just about as far from Benden as was possible. Besides, he'd had enough trouble with the Vintner boys to know he didn't want to join them.
At the Hall, Kyrstin felt much more at home. He even felt comfortable enough to let his feelings show on occasion. People here were far nicer than they were at home. The work itself, which was just something to do at first, proved challenging and rewarding it its own way. Not that he cared much for the people, much less the woman, he treated. He looked at each new case as a problem that needed fixing and worked on finding the answer. His harsh way with people did hold him back on occasion, but he did make Journeyman by the time he was nineteen.
While he was studying, the instability between the Northern Weyrs grew worse. The war that had begun shortly before he was born, took more lives every year. Being close to Fort Weyr now, most of the news the Hall received came from them. He'd only been their a year when the Weyrleader's were murdered. Though some of his fellow students were horrified, Kyrstin didn't care. If they were stupid enough to get themselves killed, they probably had no business being leaders at all. After that came rumors of attacks on the South by Benden and plotting by some of Fort's dragons to defect. Most of it was still of no interest to him. People were just stupid to let this war drag on so long when they had better things to do, like fight thread.
On his way to his first assignment at Southern Boll Hold, Kyrstin traveled south with a merchant caravan, fairly sure he would be living the life of a Healer from now on. At least until the dragon stopped his caravan. The rider was looking for likely candidates and wouldn't take no for an answer. She examined most of the young boys, before declaring she would take Kyrstin. He protested loudly but soon found it impossible to argue with someone who had something as large and toothy as a dragon. It wasn't until they arrived at their destination that he realized he'd agreed to come south to Wasteland controlled Selenitas.
Kyrstin wasn't so concerned with his candidate lessons as he was with his work as a healer. He didn't consider himself someone a dragon would want and he didn't mind in the least. Most of his time was spent grumbling over all the women he had to work with in the infirmary. These Southerners really did seem as soft as people said.
Lucky for him, the earthquake had left him unscathed. He spent long days afterwards caring for the injured, nearly exhausting himself in the process. It was during this that he met Dy'shi, the young man who rode a female blue. Dy'shi forced Kyrstin to rest now and then, starting their strange and rocky relationship.
Millieth's Hatching came almost before Kyrstin realized he would have to worry about it. Despite all his beliefs and disinterest, the green Yeomenth was quite determined to have him. Life change drastically for the young man, who now had a very demanding female constantly in his head. Much of his time was spent with weyrling lessons, infirmary duty, and keeping Yeomenth happy.
The war had little concern for him, except that it meant more work. For all he had grown up in the North, he found the whole affair a pointless waste of lives and time. Shortly before the major battles began, Dy'shi was injured and Kyr'n found himself spending much of his time caring for him. He even accept an offer of a drink once the other man was healed, beginning an off and on relationship. The larger offensives began, but fortunately no one expected dragons as young as Kyr'n's to fight, though Yeomenth itched to try her skills. He worried about Dy'shi though, much to his own surprised. After the battles, he arrived to aid the other healers in saving who they could.
He wouldn't have minded the Summit either, except that they forced him to move into Selenitas Hold. For all he normally didn't care, it placed him working with Erilena for his Dragonhealer training, which he managed only grudgingly because Yeomenth insisted he continue. It also made his relationship with Dy'shi more difficult, since he often made excuses not to make the trip back to the weyr. Part of it was because he wasn't sure how far his feelings for the other man went and he wasn't used to worrying about anyone but himself.
Having both decided to break off the relationship, the extra distance seems to have relaxed tensions somewhat, but time will tell...
Dragon
Name: Yeomenth (Ye-oh-menth)
Age: 5 turns
Color: Green oo2803, Markings: 0E6B16
Appearance: Dark green like the color of leaves in the night, Yeomenth can easily slip into obscurity starting when dusk touches the horizon. From her head to her rump, this female has a uniformly colored hide, the only deviance to this rule is on her tail. Starting behind the tail split and ending at the head of her tail, there are three rings of a slightly brighter green. Each ring is of an equal distance from each other and are exactly the same thickness despite their differing size. If Yeomenth whips her tail too and fro, they make a distracting flash of color, sometimes giving the female a moments advantage in a battle situation. The membranes on her wings share the same color as the majority of her body, but in the sunlight shimmer softly if angled in the correct direction. Yeomenth too has the thick, almost armor like skin that seems to be shared by all of her clutchsiblings. Her mutation cascades down her neck (starting from under her chin) and twists downward to cover her chest and the insides of her legs. Enemies will find it hard to damage Yeomenth by a frontal attack. The color of these plaitings or raised skin is almost indiscernible from the dark Green of the rest of her hide.
Her physical appearance treads the thin line between sinister and sinfully beautiful, falling only this way or that when Yeomenth chooses. Like her Clutchsister Gweneveth, Yeomenth is pleasantly thin. It won't be a difficult thing to call her beautiful or stunning, but what she has and her sister lacks, is the sharpness in her face. She has a graceful, curving neck and long legs, with long wings to match. She'll never end up being the fastest Greens, or even the most beautifully acrobatic, but what she can do lies with in her dives. Yeomenth has perfected the art of diving, and her human must quickly adjust to and learn her movements lest they risk endangering themselves. Like a hawk, the Green can fall faster than any of her color, allowing for precision dive bombing during aerial combat. Although she has a love for Threadfall, Yeomenth has an almost bloodthirsty passion for aerial combat. 25 ft. from nose to tail
Personality: Despite her beauty and the elegance of her movements, Yeomenth can be as vicious as an agitated viper. She is intelligent, but only in things she deems important enough to keep her interest. Therefore, she may excel in some fields, but be severely lacking in others. Extremely vain, Yeomenth does not take lightly slights and insults when it comes to anything about her. She prides herself in her beauty and tries to subtly subvert other females and mar the perception of their beauty by gossiping to other females. Yeomenth is extremely well versed in social aspects, rising quickly as a Dragon with a silver tongue. She collects others around her and emerges as the alpha female, because she can maintain her position with words and actions alone. And she will do whatever it takes to keep that position, in other words, she's power hungry.
On the flip side, she can be easily manipulated by those who can out think her. It doesn't take much to convince her that she has enemies, and that those enemies need to be taken care of. She can almost smell opportunities when they arise and if they do, and they benefit her, she will take them. Any advantage she can get, anything that will keep her ahead of the game is well... fair game. Including males. Yeomenth often seeks out the company of strong males who have some sort of leadership role or quality, they don't even have to be smart, as long as she can gain something from their association. Flirting and seduction are as likely tools of this as false nicety and friendship. If one doesn't work, the other is tried. In other words, she's a poisonous rose. (Written by Tashe)
Salamandyr[/u]
Name: Jakemo
Age: Adult
Color: Blue (#0000F5)
Physical Appearance: If ever there were glaring and obvious opposites, the fool blue is most definitely one in contrast to his hermit brother. There is no clouds or rain to stop the sunshine beaming off of him; he is a flash of pure color, virgin in its brightness and clarity. Primarily covered in a clean shade of deep and saturated cobalt, the color lightens only around his belly where it fades into a burst of electric indigo. The value of his hide moves in gradients, darkening again down to his feet and the tip of his tail. His back however is spotted, and apologetically so. While his clutch mates may only bare a faint patina, his markings are large and bold, so much so that they resemble pavers spaced unevenly so, starting from a large patch that caps the top of his head, right on to smaller and smaller patterns on the upside of his tail. While these splotches are merely an inky, dark shade of his predominant hue, he is not without some more garish examples of contrast. His frill is a sunburst, a dark orange where it starts near the head and fading out to a dandelion yellow. It is exactly the right dose of color, perfect for warding off any predator with the delusions of coming after he.
His form is completely fluid. Average in size like his blue clutchmate, there is a certain art in his form that his sibling lacks. He is long in the legs and liberal in length in terms of even his wings, tail, toe nails and frill as well; the latter flutes out, narrow but graceful, and despite their decorative role looks fully capable of adding some aerodynamic element in flight. A true contortionist, the blue is known to twist his body into impossible knots, often turning his neck to reach that itch between the shoulders that others always wish they could get to. The cerulean flier is just as astounding in the air, performing such feats, albeit in the short flashes he is able to stay afloat. He isn't all stringy and rubbery though, and don't think that he is a push over. This guy has an attractive layer of muscle under his hide that prevents a gangly appearance, and it ripples a bit at the chest. Abiding by the saying, if you've got it, flaunt it, the mandyr knows exactly what postures best displays his lithe build, as well as his pearly white teeth. For as bright as he is, the blue still remains suave and debonaire.
Personality: He is awesome in oh so many ways, but perhaps the most apparent one is that this blue hued goof is awesomely dense, and to the point where he can not fathom the fact that he can be anything but the best of the best, the creme of the crop, head honcho, the top... mandyr... Well, you get the idea clearly, and it is alarmingly sad exactly how oblivious this creature is to his own discrepancies, such as the fact that he rambles on end, is notably brash, and honestly not always the sharpest tool in the shed. After all, it is one thing to not see your potential or to underestimate your own abilities; knowing you don't know is a gift, but what can be more sad that the one who doesn't know his own faults and weaknesses? Somehow, this foolish little blue manages his utter failure with great panache, somehow subverting and dodging the reality of being totally and completely pathetic and instead coming off as endearing for all of his insolent ways. Perhaps it is something in his tone. Chatty and talkative as can be, he blurts out his observations with little regard for the misuse and abuse of the words he chooses in deadpan manner. As such, little miscommunications - like hearing and speaking the word eunuch instead of unit - are clearly everyone elses fault and not his at all.
Free and careless, this blue flouts common sense and hardly stops to look where he is stepping, a habit that works out far too often than it should. Obnoxiously auspicious, for all the times he should fall face forward into mud, he comes out instead smelling like roses, laughing at danger and breaking all of the rules with his frill jutted proudly out and a little mandyr smile on his face. A true trailblazer he won't only deny all authority, he'll go out of his way to annoy the rulemakers with clever little nicknames for each and every one of them. He is carving out his own path in life you see, in search of all of the treasures and pleasures it has to offer; it will be rare to see him in one spot, so often he is off jet setting around the weyr and chumming up with pretty greens. Spoil sports are not welcome on these trips... at least not without getting plenty of lip and teasing from him. This is not to say that he doesn't need help however... because he does despite all of his refusals otherwise he is liable to get caught in a problem that is actually much to large for him to work out on his own. Just don't expect to be thanked. Remember arrogance is his middle name, and if there are two things he refuses to do it is apologize or show gratitude.
Written by Lotty
[X] By checking this box, I am saying that I have read the Rules and History, and will follow them.
Name: Kyr'n
Age: 25 (Born October 2997)
Gender: Male
Sexual Orientation: Homosexual
Rank: Sr. J. Healer/Sr. A. DragonHealer/Wingrider
Physical Appearance: Tall, at nearly 6'7", Kyrstin is decently muscled, but with thin arms and legs. He is stronger than he looks for certain, though certainly not the strongest. His hands are thin, with long fingers that adapt well to detailed work. His face is narrow and sharp, giving him a hawk like appearance.
He wears practical clothes, for the most part, but is not above the occasional trinket. Greens are some of his favorite colors, as well as reds and blacks. He cuts his thick black hair very short and keeps his face shaven. His bright green eyes are hard and cold, set deep in his face.
Personality: Cold, indifferent and calculating, Kyrstin may not be the best choice for a best friend or a friend at all. He does not approve of frivolous relationships or needless activities. If something useful is not being accomplished, it's not worth doing. He despises weakness in both himself and others, which can make him come off as fairly emotionless. It's not that he doesn't feel emotion, but rather that he doesn't want to risk showing it. He is a puzzle solver, interested in finding interesting and new solutions to any problem. This makes him quite intelligent, but doesn't help him being very nice about it.
Kyrstin has a very low opinion of woman. For him, they fall into two categories: weak and useless, or strong and unnatural. He shuns both kinds, since he hates pathetic woman good for nothing but baring children as well as those with demanding personalities that shouldn't be trying to be like men (not that they are, he just thinks that.) Having neither an interest in families or children, Kyrstin tends to just steer clear of woman when he can and ignore them when he can't. Maybe time will change his attitude.
As a Healer, Kyrstin is probably the last person you want treating you. Not because he's bad. He is, in fact, very good at his job. His bedside manner, however, is not so much unfriendly as nonexistent. He has no interest in the pains or complaints of patients, only in doing what is needed to insure they can keep working. Pain is not his problem and he will frequently not use numbweed unless it's clear his patient can't be treated without it. It's probably best not to bother him with anything less than life threatening injuries or illnesses.
History: Kyrstin was born in Benden Hold, the son of Kyrsia, wife of Brautin. Decently well off, Brautin was a man with ambition. Though not as poor or low class as most, he strived to place himself closer to the Lord Holder's family and gain even more power. He married Kyrsia, a younger daughter of one of the lower noble families after months of convincing them he was good enough.
All was going as planned and the couple were expected their first child, until Kyrsia tearfully confessed that she had been taken by another man. It had been against her will and she had been terrified of what Brautin would do when he found out, but her fearful looks at her swollen belly had betrayed her. Furious and without any way of knowing if the child was truly his, Brautin vented his anger on her and by hunting down the young man in question and seeing too it that he would have a hard time doing such a thing again. A very hard time indeed.
The child was born, a healthy boy, but with startling green eyes that Brautin knew had not come from his or his wife's family. He was faced with a hard choice. He could dispose of the child quietly and risk not having an heir, or raise this boy as his own until his wife had another son. For better or worse, he chose to keep the boy, naming Kyrstin, instead of Brakyr like he'd planned.
At first, Kyrstin grew up well and happy enough, until he was four. Then Kyrsia had her third child, a boy. Young Brakyr was everything his father hoped for. Strong, ambitions and undeniably his. Kyrstin was quickly shunned in favor of Brakyr and the older boy found himself increasing resentful of his younger brother and sister, Siabra. His mother tried to explain, but he was quick to dismiss her apologies. Woman were weak, as his father was always impressing on him. If his mother had been stronger, he would never have been born from another man.
Lonely, unloved and ignored, Kyrstin began to close himself off to the world. Brautin wished he hadn't been born and his birth father was probably some drudge on the street by now. His mother was too weak and pathetic to defend him, and none of the other boys would speak to one who's own father admitted was worthless. Kyrstin spent most of his days taking long walks, getting into fights, and planning for the day he would be old enough to leave home for good.
When he was twelve, he packed the few things he had and left without hardly a word. His plan was to travel to Fort Hold and entered the Healer's Craft. Not that he particularly liked people or medicine, but because word was they would take anyone and Fort was just about as far from Benden as was possible. Besides, he'd had enough trouble with the Vintner boys to know he didn't want to join them.
At the Hall, Kyrstin felt much more at home. He even felt comfortable enough to let his feelings show on occasion. People here were far nicer than they were at home. The work itself, which was just something to do at first, proved challenging and rewarding it its own way. Not that he cared much for the people, much less the woman, he treated. He looked at each new case as a problem that needed fixing and worked on finding the answer. His harsh way with people did hold him back on occasion, but he did make Journeyman by the time he was nineteen.
While he was studying, the instability between the Northern Weyrs grew worse. The war that had begun shortly before he was born, took more lives every year. Being close to Fort Weyr now, most of the news the Hall received came from them. He'd only been their a year when the Weyrleader's were murdered. Though some of his fellow students were horrified, Kyrstin didn't care. If they were stupid enough to get themselves killed, they probably had no business being leaders at all. After that came rumors of attacks on the South by Benden and plotting by some of Fort's dragons to defect. Most of it was still of no interest to him. People were just stupid to let this war drag on so long when they had better things to do, like fight thread.
On his way to his first assignment at Southern Boll Hold, Kyrstin traveled south with a merchant caravan, fairly sure he would be living the life of a Healer from now on. At least until the dragon stopped his caravan. The rider was looking for likely candidates and wouldn't take no for an answer. She examined most of the young boys, before declaring she would take Kyrstin. He protested loudly but soon found it impossible to argue with someone who had something as large and toothy as a dragon. It wasn't until they arrived at their destination that he realized he'd agreed to come south to Wasteland controlled Selenitas.
Kyrstin wasn't so concerned with his candidate lessons as he was with his work as a healer. He didn't consider himself someone a dragon would want and he didn't mind in the least. Most of his time was spent grumbling over all the women he had to work with in the infirmary. These Southerners really did seem as soft as people said.
Lucky for him, the earthquake had left him unscathed. He spent long days afterwards caring for the injured, nearly exhausting himself in the process. It was during this that he met Dy'shi, the young man who rode a female blue. Dy'shi forced Kyrstin to rest now and then, starting their strange and rocky relationship.
Millieth's Hatching came almost before Kyrstin realized he would have to worry about it. Despite all his beliefs and disinterest, the green Yeomenth was quite determined to have him. Life change drastically for the young man, who now had a very demanding female constantly in his head. Much of his time was spent with weyrling lessons, infirmary duty, and keeping Yeomenth happy.
The war had little concern for him, except that it meant more work. For all he had grown up in the North, he found the whole affair a pointless waste of lives and time. Shortly before the major battles began, Dy'shi was injured and Kyr'n found himself spending much of his time caring for him. He even accept an offer of a drink once the other man was healed, beginning an off and on relationship. The larger offensives began, but fortunately no one expected dragons as young as Kyr'n's to fight, though Yeomenth itched to try her skills. He worried about Dy'shi though, much to his own surprised. After the battles, he arrived to aid the other healers in saving who they could.
He wouldn't have minded the Summit either, except that they forced him to move into Selenitas Hold. For all he normally didn't care, it placed him working with Erilena for his Dragonhealer training, which he managed only grudgingly because Yeomenth insisted he continue. It also made his relationship with Dy'shi more difficult, since he often made excuses not to make the trip back to the weyr. Part of it was because he wasn't sure how far his feelings for the other man went and he wasn't used to worrying about anyone but himself.
Having both decided to break off the relationship, the extra distance seems to have relaxed tensions somewhat, but time will tell...
Dragon
Name: Yeomenth (Ye-oh-menth)
Age: 5 turns
Color: Green oo2803, Markings: 0E6B16
Appearance: Dark green like the color of leaves in the night, Yeomenth can easily slip into obscurity starting when dusk touches the horizon. From her head to her rump, this female has a uniformly colored hide, the only deviance to this rule is on her tail. Starting behind the tail split and ending at the head of her tail, there are three rings of a slightly brighter green. Each ring is of an equal distance from each other and are exactly the same thickness despite their differing size. If Yeomenth whips her tail too and fro, they make a distracting flash of color, sometimes giving the female a moments advantage in a battle situation. The membranes on her wings share the same color as the majority of her body, but in the sunlight shimmer softly if angled in the correct direction. Yeomenth too has the thick, almost armor like skin that seems to be shared by all of her clutchsiblings. Her mutation cascades down her neck (starting from under her chin) and twists downward to cover her chest and the insides of her legs. Enemies will find it hard to damage Yeomenth by a frontal attack. The color of these plaitings or raised skin is almost indiscernible from the dark Green of the rest of her hide.
Her physical appearance treads the thin line between sinister and sinfully beautiful, falling only this way or that when Yeomenth chooses. Like her Clutchsister Gweneveth, Yeomenth is pleasantly thin. It won't be a difficult thing to call her beautiful or stunning, but what she has and her sister lacks, is the sharpness in her face. She has a graceful, curving neck and long legs, with long wings to match. She'll never end up being the fastest Greens, or even the most beautifully acrobatic, but what she can do lies with in her dives. Yeomenth has perfected the art of diving, and her human must quickly adjust to and learn her movements lest they risk endangering themselves. Like a hawk, the Green can fall faster than any of her color, allowing for precision dive bombing during aerial combat. Although she has a love for Threadfall, Yeomenth has an almost bloodthirsty passion for aerial combat. 25 ft. from nose to tail
Personality: Despite her beauty and the elegance of her movements, Yeomenth can be as vicious as an agitated viper. She is intelligent, but only in things she deems important enough to keep her interest. Therefore, she may excel in some fields, but be severely lacking in others. Extremely vain, Yeomenth does not take lightly slights and insults when it comes to anything about her. She prides herself in her beauty and tries to subtly subvert other females and mar the perception of their beauty by gossiping to other females. Yeomenth is extremely well versed in social aspects, rising quickly as a Dragon with a silver tongue. She collects others around her and emerges as the alpha female, because she can maintain her position with words and actions alone. And she will do whatever it takes to keep that position, in other words, she's power hungry.
On the flip side, she can be easily manipulated by those who can out think her. It doesn't take much to convince her that she has enemies, and that those enemies need to be taken care of. She can almost smell opportunities when they arise and if they do, and they benefit her, she will take them. Any advantage she can get, anything that will keep her ahead of the game is well... fair game. Including males. Yeomenth often seeks out the company of strong males who have some sort of leadership role or quality, they don't even have to be smart, as long as she can gain something from their association. Flirting and seduction are as likely tools of this as false nicety and friendship. If one doesn't work, the other is tried. In other words, she's a poisonous rose. (Written by Tashe)
Salamandyr[/u]
Name: Jakemo
Age: Adult
Color: Blue (#0000F5)
Physical Appearance: If ever there were glaring and obvious opposites, the fool blue is most definitely one in contrast to his hermit brother. There is no clouds or rain to stop the sunshine beaming off of him; he is a flash of pure color, virgin in its brightness and clarity. Primarily covered in a clean shade of deep and saturated cobalt, the color lightens only around his belly where it fades into a burst of electric indigo. The value of his hide moves in gradients, darkening again down to his feet and the tip of his tail. His back however is spotted, and apologetically so. While his clutch mates may only bare a faint patina, his markings are large and bold, so much so that they resemble pavers spaced unevenly so, starting from a large patch that caps the top of his head, right on to smaller and smaller patterns on the upside of his tail. While these splotches are merely an inky, dark shade of his predominant hue, he is not without some more garish examples of contrast. His frill is a sunburst, a dark orange where it starts near the head and fading out to a dandelion yellow. It is exactly the right dose of color, perfect for warding off any predator with the delusions of coming after he.
His form is completely fluid. Average in size like his blue clutchmate, there is a certain art in his form that his sibling lacks. He is long in the legs and liberal in length in terms of even his wings, tail, toe nails and frill as well; the latter flutes out, narrow but graceful, and despite their decorative role looks fully capable of adding some aerodynamic element in flight. A true contortionist, the blue is known to twist his body into impossible knots, often turning his neck to reach that itch between the shoulders that others always wish they could get to. The cerulean flier is just as astounding in the air, performing such feats, albeit in the short flashes he is able to stay afloat. He isn't all stringy and rubbery though, and don't think that he is a push over. This guy has an attractive layer of muscle under his hide that prevents a gangly appearance, and it ripples a bit at the chest. Abiding by the saying, if you've got it, flaunt it, the mandyr knows exactly what postures best displays his lithe build, as well as his pearly white teeth. For as bright as he is, the blue still remains suave and debonaire.
Personality: He is awesome in oh so many ways, but perhaps the most apparent one is that this blue hued goof is awesomely dense, and to the point where he can not fathom the fact that he can be anything but the best of the best, the creme of the crop, head honcho, the top... mandyr... Well, you get the idea clearly, and it is alarmingly sad exactly how oblivious this creature is to his own discrepancies, such as the fact that he rambles on end, is notably brash, and honestly not always the sharpest tool in the shed. After all, it is one thing to not see your potential or to underestimate your own abilities; knowing you don't know is a gift, but what can be more sad that the one who doesn't know his own faults and weaknesses? Somehow, this foolish little blue manages his utter failure with great panache, somehow subverting and dodging the reality of being totally and completely pathetic and instead coming off as endearing for all of his insolent ways. Perhaps it is something in his tone. Chatty and talkative as can be, he blurts out his observations with little regard for the misuse and abuse of the words he chooses in deadpan manner. As such, little miscommunications - like hearing and speaking the word eunuch instead of unit - are clearly everyone elses fault and not his at all.
Free and careless, this blue flouts common sense and hardly stops to look where he is stepping, a habit that works out far too often than it should. Obnoxiously auspicious, for all the times he should fall face forward into mud, he comes out instead smelling like roses, laughing at danger and breaking all of the rules with his frill jutted proudly out and a little mandyr smile on his face. A true trailblazer he won't only deny all authority, he'll go out of his way to annoy the rulemakers with clever little nicknames for each and every one of them. He is carving out his own path in life you see, in search of all of the treasures and pleasures it has to offer; it will be rare to see him in one spot, so often he is off jet setting around the weyr and chumming up with pretty greens. Spoil sports are not welcome on these trips... at least not without getting plenty of lip and teasing from him. This is not to say that he doesn't need help however... because he does despite all of his refusals otherwise he is liable to get caught in a problem that is actually much to large for him to work out on his own. Just don't expect to be thanked. Remember arrogance is his middle name, and if there are two things he refuses to do it is apologize or show gratitude.
Written by Lotty
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