Post by fabio on Mar 22, 2007 1:32:50 GMT -5
Went POOF in the Disappearance Plot
(this is from a previous weyr of mine but all the info you asked for is there)
Name: W’ra
Age: 19
Gender: Male
Sexual Preference: heterosexual
Occupation: Dragonrider previously a Smith/glasswork
Appearance: Wirramirra is your average brown haired, brown eyes, tall and solid build, lanky with his youth, a firm chinned young man. The only thing that separates him from his fellow youths is his smile, and the way it invades his eyes, warming them and making them twinkle. His hands are large and his structure is still growing, as a hatchling he tends to be clumsy with his lanky structure.
Personality: He has a good heart, he is ordinarily level headed but when he is stirred up he can be passionate, he is warm with everyone but reserves his trust. One thing can be said for him, when he sets his mind on something he can be as hardheaded as the legendary Lessa.
Though ordinary looking in almost every sense of the word his personality more than makes up for it, often causing you to think he’s more attractive than he truthfully is. He is often described as a very affable young man, but those that have reason to dislike him see him as a calculating cunning bastard.
But truthfully this is only because once he dislikes you he treats you with all the compassion of a titmouse, and instead chooses to deal with you with brutal logic.
History: Born into the smith hall he had a very small talent for glassblowing, though that is as far as it went. He worked and worked but was never able to exceed the small talent he had, which consisted of blowing vases, jars, and maybe small trinkets to hang up for the festivities. Despite his lack of progress he kept it up and his parents although dismayed by it where proud of his hard work and determination, they recognized qualities in him and finally decided together late at night to send him to the Weyr for impression. Wirramirra was astonished when his parents told him and although he missed them more with each day after his departure he found himself growing more and more excited, he deliberately kept his hopes in grasp though and decided that no matter the outcome he would stay on at the Weyr, as just some of the common Weyr folk if not a dragon rider, though deep in his heart he knew he would be deeply disappointed, as all candidates must feel when they are rejected.
He was lucky though and impressed the bronze Phenylalanth, affectionately referred to as Phen by his rider. By the time they completely their weyrling training they were amongst the top partners. Certain attributes were recognised in W’ra but the Weyr would not accept such a young rider as a wingleader. W’ra was angry and Phen had a hard time convincing his rider that such a thing could not stop them, other Weyrs would likely accept them as they were a prime example of a capable beast and rider. Phen had no compunctions against leaving, he had dealt with the other bronze’ criticism at his small size as a weyrling until he had rocketed up and then they had resented him.
The preparations were made, permission asked for and given and the pair left silently without a trace except for the weyrleaders knowledge.
Dragon:
Name: Phenylalanth, aka Phen
Color: Antique rustic bronze.
Age: 3
Physical Appearance: He was small as a hatchling but as he grew older he gained size and weight until he was on the cusp of beating some of the largest bronze’ for size and speed. His underbelly is a slightly lighter more modern hue of bronze and his wing membranes are a still lighter slightly red tinged bronze.
Personality: He is much the same as his rider, though he can be sometimes referred to as the more levelheaded of the two and then again he can often be called the more impulsive. It generally depends on the situation. Either way both are compassionate and logical, something that doesn’t often come together.
While W’ra is by no means vain Phen is quiet the opposite, proud of his strength and obvious prowess he will not balk at being in the spotlight. Though he is a self-indulged creature Phen knows, as does W’ra that if Phen was to find a mate of green or gold his preenings would cease and his mind shift to the importance of mate and family.
Wher: N/A
Dolphin: N/A
Firelizards: none
Roleplay Sample: (from when he was a candidate at a different weyr)
Wirramirra tossed a heavy glass ball from hand to hand skilfully, never once looking down or dropping the ball. He sat on a step, knees apart and elbows resting on them, eyes staring out at nothing in particular. He idly remembered as a child dropping the heavy glass globes his father had crafted with the cast-offs of the day, how he had made so many and time and again Wirramirra had dropped them and shattered them day in day out. His father had merely laughed cleaned it up and brought him a new one the next day, until finally he could toss them without dropping them and could craft his own. Wirramirra now glanced down at the clear globule now resting in his right hand, he remembered his father handing it to him before he had left and how his mother had stood there as immovable as a rock with tears running down her rosy cheeks in one long torrent. His arms still remembered the way her sturdy form felt as he swept her up into a hug, and the way she had collapsed against him weeping uncontrollably.
He sighed and stood up, for a moment he gripped the object in his hand before placing it back in the pouch he had for it, slung over his shoulders by a leather strap and dangling by his side. Stepping down the steps, one hand absently over the pouch so the ball would not bounce around he reached the base, leather boots scuffing in the light dust at the foot. A firelizard whooshed past his head, surprised he looked up as the creature raced around a corner a flash of a tail and it was gone. A smile played over Wirramirra’s lips, warming his brown eyed gaze, he had always admired firelizards but somehow he felt no real desire for one, other smiths had had some at the hall and he had often fed and helped care for them, a number were definitely his friends, and he had always seemed content with that. His mind jumped to the upcoming impression, instantly his heart rate increased, by the egg! He wanted to be accepted much less do well and impress a bronze or a brown. His interest in dragons was so very much a part of who he was, his lack of desire for a firelizard was quite the opposite for dragons, since he had come to the Weyr all he could think about was what could be, though he tried hard to not get his hopes up he felt like his whole being ached for the partnership no one could describe. Wrenching himself out of his thoughts he found himself halfway towards the hatching grounds, quickly he altered his course to the kitchen, slightly embarrassed he entered the warm environment, with the occasional movement as the stew that was always on got stirred by a passing kitchen hand, picking up a cup he filled it with some hot Klah, always on serve for anyone passing through. He found a seat and sat at one of the small tables, leaning back he put his long legs up and sipped from his cup, the cinnamon taste lingering on his tongue as he swallowed. He gazed into his cup, the dark liquid swirling slightly, “a dragon rider,” he said under his breath, it travelled no farther than his own ears.
(this is from a previous weyr of mine but all the info you asked for is there)
Name: W’ra
Age: 19
Gender: Male
Sexual Preference: heterosexual
Occupation: Dragonrider previously a Smith/glasswork
Appearance: Wirramirra is your average brown haired, brown eyes, tall and solid build, lanky with his youth, a firm chinned young man. The only thing that separates him from his fellow youths is his smile, and the way it invades his eyes, warming them and making them twinkle. His hands are large and his structure is still growing, as a hatchling he tends to be clumsy with his lanky structure.
Personality: He has a good heart, he is ordinarily level headed but when he is stirred up he can be passionate, he is warm with everyone but reserves his trust. One thing can be said for him, when he sets his mind on something he can be as hardheaded as the legendary Lessa.
Though ordinary looking in almost every sense of the word his personality more than makes up for it, often causing you to think he’s more attractive than he truthfully is. He is often described as a very affable young man, but those that have reason to dislike him see him as a calculating cunning bastard.
But truthfully this is only because once he dislikes you he treats you with all the compassion of a titmouse, and instead chooses to deal with you with brutal logic.
History: Born into the smith hall he had a very small talent for glassblowing, though that is as far as it went. He worked and worked but was never able to exceed the small talent he had, which consisted of blowing vases, jars, and maybe small trinkets to hang up for the festivities. Despite his lack of progress he kept it up and his parents although dismayed by it where proud of his hard work and determination, they recognized qualities in him and finally decided together late at night to send him to the Weyr for impression. Wirramirra was astonished when his parents told him and although he missed them more with each day after his departure he found himself growing more and more excited, he deliberately kept his hopes in grasp though and decided that no matter the outcome he would stay on at the Weyr, as just some of the common Weyr folk if not a dragon rider, though deep in his heart he knew he would be deeply disappointed, as all candidates must feel when they are rejected.
He was lucky though and impressed the bronze Phenylalanth, affectionately referred to as Phen by his rider. By the time they completely their weyrling training they were amongst the top partners. Certain attributes were recognised in W’ra but the Weyr would not accept such a young rider as a wingleader. W’ra was angry and Phen had a hard time convincing his rider that such a thing could not stop them, other Weyrs would likely accept them as they were a prime example of a capable beast and rider. Phen had no compunctions against leaving, he had dealt with the other bronze’ criticism at his small size as a weyrling until he had rocketed up and then they had resented him.
The preparations were made, permission asked for and given and the pair left silently without a trace except for the weyrleaders knowledge.
Dragon:
Name: Phenylalanth, aka Phen
Color: Antique rustic bronze.
Age: 3
Physical Appearance: He was small as a hatchling but as he grew older he gained size and weight until he was on the cusp of beating some of the largest bronze’ for size and speed. His underbelly is a slightly lighter more modern hue of bronze and his wing membranes are a still lighter slightly red tinged bronze.
Personality: He is much the same as his rider, though he can be sometimes referred to as the more levelheaded of the two and then again he can often be called the more impulsive. It generally depends on the situation. Either way both are compassionate and logical, something that doesn’t often come together.
While W’ra is by no means vain Phen is quiet the opposite, proud of his strength and obvious prowess he will not balk at being in the spotlight. Though he is a self-indulged creature Phen knows, as does W’ra that if Phen was to find a mate of green or gold his preenings would cease and his mind shift to the importance of mate and family.
Wher: N/A
Dolphin: N/A
Firelizards: none
Roleplay Sample: (from when he was a candidate at a different weyr)
Wirramirra tossed a heavy glass ball from hand to hand skilfully, never once looking down or dropping the ball. He sat on a step, knees apart and elbows resting on them, eyes staring out at nothing in particular. He idly remembered as a child dropping the heavy glass globes his father had crafted with the cast-offs of the day, how he had made so many and time and again Wirramirra had dropped them and shattered them day in day out. His father had merely laughed cleaned it up and brought him a new one the next day, until finally he could toss them without dropping them and could craft his own. Wirramirra now glanced down at the clear globule now resting in his right hand, he remembered his father handing it to him before he had left and how his mother had stood there as immovable as a rock with tears running down her rosy cheeks in one long torrent. His arms still remembered the way her sturdy form felt as he swept her up into a hug, and the way she had collapsed against him weeping uncontrollably.
He sighed and stood up, for a moment he gripped the object in his hand before placing it back in the pouch he had for it, slung over his shoulders by a leather strap and dangling by his side. Stepping down the steps, one hand absently over the pouch so the ball would not bounce around he reached the base, leather boots scuffing in the light dust at the foot. A firelizard whooshed past his head, surprised he looked up as the creature raced around a corner a flash of a tail and it was gone. A smile played over Wirramirra’s lips, warming his brown eyed gaze, he had always admired firelizards but somehow he felt no real desire for one, other smiths had had some at the hall and he had often fed and helped care for them, a number were definitely his friends, and he had always seemed content with that. His mind jumped to the upcoming impression, instantly his heart rate increased, by the egg! He wanted to be accepted much less do well and impress a bronze or a brown. His interest in dragons was so very much a part of who he was, his lack of desire for a firelizard was quite the opposite for dragons, since he had come to the Weyr all he could think about was what could be, though he tried hard to not get his hopes up he felt like his whole being ached for the partnership no one could describe. Wrenching himself out of his thoughts he found himself halfway towards the hatching grounds, quickly he altered his course to the kitchen, slightly embarrassed he entered the warm environment, with the occasional movement as the stew that was always on got stirred by a passing kitchen hand, picking up a cup he filled it with some hot Klah, always on serve for anyone passing through. He found a seat and sat at one of the small tables, leaning back he put his long legs up and sipped from his cup, the cinnamon taste lingering on his tongue as he swallowed. He gazed into his cup, the dark liquid swirling slightly, “a dragon rider,” he said under his breath, it travelled no farther than his own ears.
