Post by Lotty on Jul 16, 2010 14:40:30 GMT -5
C'ZANofBLUE VIAQUETH
Age 30 - 2987 [Perished in the Dragon Wars]
Gender Male
Sexual Orientation Bisexual
Rank Blue Rider/Weyrlingmaster
Physical Appearance
Personality
History
MINDMATESetc.
Name Viaqueth
Color Blue #0ABAB5
Age 11
Physical Appearance
Personality
Name Magoo
Color Brown D5C76F, 663300
Age 1
Physical Appearance
Personality
[check mark] By checking this box, I am saying that I have read the Rules and History, and will follow them.
Age 30 - 2987 [Perished in the Dragon Wars]
Gender Male
Sexual Orientation Bisexual
Rank Blue Rider/Weyrlingmaster
Physical Appearance
Much like his dragon, his looks are distinct. With a strong jawline that looks like it very well may have been cut from stone, and a brow that has a similar - if slightly softer - cast of determination he could very well stand out in a crowd with a very pointed glare alone, and though he has been known to pull off exactly that, it is the total package that leaves the greatest impressions on the memory. Further perpetuating this statuesque design is his nose. Set in the middle of his face right above that ever neutral and expressionless mouth is what could only be described as aquiline... decidedly similar to the image of a Roman emperor. His body is not far from this ideal either. While not quite the body building monster that many Benden stereotypes paint, he doesn't waste an inch of his body on fat. The man is rather tall, hovering somewhere over six feet at least with broad shoulders that taper down easily into a slim waist.
The hide that covers the muscles of his arms are covered with the typical war wounds to be expected - gashes here, and gashes there glaring white against tan. Yes the cast of his skin is unusual for the Northerners, even after he left his desert home, it was like he had remained in a endless summer with a coppery glow at all times of the year. It is his eyes that are reminiscent of his heritage, a cool blue that toes the line and just dodges green but undeniably ringed by something darker as if to punctuate their eerie nebulous nature.
Most of his looks however is disguised by his mess of black hair. A wild man he looks like, even with all the grooming and oil, and time spent on taming it. The bangs are cut straight across above the eyes while the rest tends to be let go varying between a style that kinks and curls to his chin or even down to the shoulders but never above the ears. He tries to concern his self more with facial hair, shaving most of it off regularly save for a patch under his lips or the occasional line of a beard along his chin.
Personality
As a man of very few words, he could be called mysterious maybe, but even more often cryptic, because he he does deign to open his mouth he will never reply with what one asked for or expects, and with his cool and utter confidence, it is hard to question his answers. He makes his every word worth it; short, concise, and usually quite curt, but not without passion, he works much like a trained politician in this way. His message is always on point. Like many dragonriders and holders alike, this is a man who works on principal. He has a set of beliefs and ideals and they serve as motivation for his every move and action. C'zan's ideals of course would never be called viscousness, brutality, or anything of the like...but instead progress, advancement, and growth. The man just so happens to believe that one must make extreme moves to achieve this.
This might just make him Machiavellian with his liberal use of intimidation as a motivator and shield but even more so he is...a tad haughty, for he is ahead of the curve you see, and while all loyal Bendenites in general are examples of this forward thinking, he is just king of the whole avant garde movement and as such he can be stubborn and the last man to back down from a fight or inciting riots. He'll even take his radical beliefs to the point of sometimes making trouble where there never really was one to begin with. It seems that his greatest drawback is his love affair with trouble...it just follows him where ever he goes. He is just a little bit of a loose canon.
It would seem that his own personality traits would be at odds with each other, and frankly sometimes they are. A crazy man with tight lips? C'zan makes it work, probably with the help of turns of discipline and learning from his mistakes. He is one of those few rare individuals who could step in a bucket of feces and still come out smelling like roses and smiling with that odd sort of mischief that only he could manage. It is this sort of odd luck that has enabled him to live, and he is completely and utterly aware of it, citing it as the will of the cause delivering his fate for him. Ghosts of C'leon clearly have their hands in his well being.
History
Igen: a desert hold with very little going for it. Accordingly, Cezanne was born into a family that had very little going for themselves. As one in a litter of children birthed by Narene with her husband Caezar, the child had to learn at an early age how to fend for himself. After all, his family was nothing more than dirt farmers...or at least that is what it seemed at times. Their draybeasts chomped on what little grains and grasses that grew on the Igenese borders with the plains and the ones who survived so often turned into jerky meals after being skinned as opposed to being sold as the cheap and reliable work beasts that poorly holders could afford. Things were obviously not going well for the impoverished couple and their hoard of brats, and despite every child being another pair of working hands, they were also another mouth to feed.
There was a small solution though. A temporary fix so to speak, and although the smallest cotholds were loathe to deal with Benden Weyr, it was well known that Lord Dyodian was not going to do anything for his lower class citizens. So it was that one man's enemy turned out to be another man's saint, and that is exactly what C'leon proved to be to Cezanne and his brothers, for while the Lord Holder sent his stewards to reap the tithes and livelihood of their family, C'leon sent his searchriders and they would sweep the young boys off to a chance to live at the Weyr. While Benden was never considered a fairytale, all things were relative. They had more food, a better climate, dragons, power. Igen had sand and dirt.
At the age of fifteen, Cezanne was the second of his brothers to be whisked away. They were never promised dragons, but they were promised work, and his brother before him did successfully Impress which was encouragement enough. If all went well he could send the spoils of war back to his needy family - much like N'raz did - it would never, could never, be much, but it would be better than nothing. If worst came to worst he would be a lower caverns drudge...and at least that had some kind of shelter from the sun. So without even the inklings of a fight from his parents, the teenager went to Benden Weyr where he quickly fell into candidacy.
Two turns. He spent two turns as a candidate before Impressing in late 3004 to Viaqueth, who despite his obvious oddities - sharp looking shape and bright shocking color - was not malformed or mutated, at least not enough to put him on the chopping block. In fact, the opposite was true. The newly christened C'zan and his blue Viaqueth were a great addition to the weyr. The dragon had from his very hatching inherited some sort of brazen viscousness that served well in battle...and as for the rider...well he was so indoctrinated into C'leon's world that it would only make sense for him to fall right into place, and right after an uneventful weyrlinghood he went straight to an unorganized mess of a wing - much like most of them at Benden - and excelled at fighting as opposed to Threadfall.
Thread never posed much interest to the young man anyway. He wasn't aware that dragons even flew against the menace until he came to Benden. At Igen there wasn't even anything to protect from Thread anyway, and he was still too detached to care about the well being of the rest of Pern. The war was a different story, to him it all held merit as C'leon to C'zan was the symbol of a righteous revolution. It was good that Benden had him, for without him they would have been crushed by Fort, and even if they never truly won against the other Weyr, then at very least C'zan had no problem with being a perpetual thorn in their side.
And indeed he and the rest of his wing were that thorn, and C'zan couldn't be happier until the inevitable turning point. That sharding southern weyr. That sharding gold rider, leaving them behind for the turncoats. How shameful. He was twenty five when the weyr turned their attention on Selenitas with the intent on destroying and showing them punishment for taking in that treacherous gold rider, and although a younger C'zan would find fault in C'leon's quest for revenge (things should be done for the sake of Benden Progress, nothing more or less) by now he was too far in to question anything.
Nobody expected that the great Weyrleader wouldn't come out of this alive though, and this is where the chaos began. So many of his comrades were lost in the siege, but so many more were cut down at the hands of supposed friends and Fortians alike as they returned back home and found J'lorin at the helm. It was salt in the wound to not only loose your leader in some backwater Weyr, but to be conquered by a Fortian with the aid of a woman who you once held faith in (even if the faith was more in her gold's clutching ability than anything else). How C'zan made it out of the initial cull...well even he isn't sure, but he is willing to bet on the fact that it had to do with his ability to keep his mouth shut, and his lower ranking as a bluerider. Sometimes it was good to be "just a bluerider" it seemed.
J'lorin and company should have been more worried about the quiet ones than the blatantly violent. After all, the quiet ones have secrets, and their secret was to the south. Although the bluerider was known to have tainted a few men's drinks or spur a few accidents here or there, he was never questioned if only because he escaped too soon to be found out. The coordinates he was given...well they lead to Wasteland Weyr of course where the sprouts of a revolt were cropping up...and lets face it, C'zan was always on board for a good military coup.
Things were different in the south. Jungles for one - which Viaqueth and C'zan both adored and feared for their dark corners and hidden dangers. Felines were a fact of life, and learning to hunt them became a new and unwelcome distraction from trying to organize against J'lorin. Just when they had begun settling in however, they were captured. Yes, captured in the midst of a good old fashion raid, and instead of just being offed as he would so eloquently put it, him and his fellows might as well have been wrapped up and pinned with bows since they were gifted to Selenitas. Ha! Some gift they are. Sometimes it is all about perception, and being delivered to the enemy isn't so bad when one's enemy is someone as naive and over their head as the southern weyr.
Selenitas did not keep careful enough watch of their captives. Not all of them anyway. Ba'sun, C'zan's fellow gift, had had contact with he other Wastelanders, and in due time their masters would be sorry that they were handled so much like.... spoiled goods as the blue rider would put it. When the moment did come and his former cohort came to claim the pacifistic bunch of the natives, C'zan stood aside with his particular brand of smugness, merrily biting into a fresh redfruit while he watched the drama and chaos all around him. When the dust settled there they were with a bunch of hopeless Selenites they had to train and ready for battle. They were all part of this war now, and while at first C'zan had little to do with the natives other than luring them into food fights, he soon found himself at the head of a class of weyrlings. C'zan... a Weyrlingmaster.... a frightening concept indeed.
MINDMATESetc.
Name Viaqueth
Color Blue #0ABAB5
Age 11
Physical Appearance
Asymmetrical. Obtuse. Acutely angled and utterly out of balance, this dragon does not follow the formal rules of design...at least in regards to the typical patterns of dragon hide. Viaqueth is covered in the most surreal of canvases; a vivid, memorable blue unlike anything that could, or should, exist in nature. A shade of turquoise too neon in vibrancy, it rather appears to glow with some sort of radioactive luminosity....and this is only the start. Along his left side, fluting up from his underbelly and blessing his neck are what can only be described as irregular rosettes. Spots if you will, that mimic the patterns of feline fur, and sometimes meld together to form stronger bands along the face. These markings are of course darker than his body, in a shade closer to cerulean, but still soft enough around the edges to blend and seep into the hide. Even more obscure still is the subtle ribbing and swirling lines that mark the rest of his hide - so perfect in their form that when stared at too long they seem to pulse with false movement.
Again, he is all angles, yet strangely feminine in form. It seems like feline is the operative word when referring to this blue, for his muscles lie forbiddingly bundled underneath that vibrantly colored cover, but without any bulk or heaviness. With ripples of musculature lining the back and hind legs in particular, it is no surprise that this dragon can leap just as well as he flies, a long tail swaying behind for balance. His wings though...those are hard to define for they are so rarely revealed, always held demurely close to his back. Spreading them only reveals sharp limbs like perfect triangles for cutting through the air as opposed to floating on it. Viaqueth's head is similar in shape; a narrow wedge with a defined overbite to show a wicked pair of primed and ready fangs.
Personality
Playful and sprightly but hardly nice. The dragon has a very whimsical manner, if only for his adoration of little activities and fun times, its just that what he does on his free time is less than cute. This one did not get the memo on not playing with your food, nor did he receive any lessons in abstaining from cruelty. As an animal advocate's worst enemy he will mercilessly play and torture his prey, maiming it into submission before gorging himself on whatever bloody soup is left in aftermath. As gross as it can be, he is a meticulously clean creature, who will go as far as licking the blood and grime off of himself. Ok, maybe not all of it is just vanity, it does taste awfully good too. What makes others shudder only leaves him with bloated sense of pride and the closest thing a dragon can get to a cheeky game. Why can't others just see that this is all fun and games?
Unfortunately this attitude carries over into interactions with even those who speak, like of course humans and other dragons. Not beyond bespeaking anyone he pleases, he will bait and taunt and tease everything that passes his sight with that purring voice of his. Which much to his delight gets him into little tifs with others...its something to do, and this dragon gets bored easily. While that often gets him in trouble like mentioned above, it also means he is a very productive one. Work can be fun as long as it is turned into a game...a competition, and as he is a very sore loser, the dragon will work endlessly to achieve his ends and if honest determination doesn't work well then he isn't above playing a little dirty, a trick he learned from his rider of course.
Name Magoo
Color Brown D5C76F, 663300
Age 1
Physical Appearance
This brown isn’t your stereotypical muscled large brown. Large he is. But not in the ways one would expect. Instead this brown is downright chubby. Round even might be an accurate word. A thick layer of fat covers his frame. So much in fact that when he walks he will waddle horribly. Exercise might help this but the brown will certainly never be what you can call skinny. In frame he is large boned and his will be surprised at the power he can show when it is needed. Over large wings help support his weight and while he will never win and prizes for aerial prowess he certainly can show a surprising amount of stamina. His face is also chubby and round and it gives him a cherub like appearance that is surprisingly childlike and endearing.
In coloration he is quite pale. A soft almost tan shade covers him from nose to tip. A few markings break up the uniform color however. Covering his left eye is a perfect chocolate spot. The perfect circle. Like a terran raccoon rings start at the base of his tail and continue on down to the very tip. A spattering of chocolate freckles cover the bridge of his muzzle and one large perfectly round spot can also be found smack dab in the middle of his side. All in all he gives over a very cute and cuddly appearance.
Personality
Unfortunately this brown isn’t really as cute and cuddly as his appearance suggests. In fact he is downright cold most of the time. He comes to his only when he needs something and for little else. He may tolerate short bursts of affection for awhile but it seems they never last quite long enough. A pat here a treat there. That’s all he really cares to stick around for. There are far too many things to collect you see. This male has an obsession for all things circular in nature. Anything even remotely resembling a circle is looked at turned over, tested for ability to roll and then prompt taken between to a unknown location. Unknown to any other human that is. Humans are thieves you see. Always trying to take his beautiful circular possessions.
In fact this flitter is perfectly content to chatter to other flitters and mandyrs about his ‘collection’. He might even show them it. But woe betide the fool that tires to touch or take anything. Looking only please and thank you. The brown will spend hours playing amongst his collection of round things. Rolling them and bouncing them for hours and hours and having oh so much fun! Strangely this firelizard also makes a habit of flying in a circle. Unfortunately this will make him quite dizzy obviously, and from time to time it will not be uncommon for him to smack into a wall or crash into the back of someone’s head. Chirps of apology always follow such collisions before the brown happily goes on his way. The brown is not mean by any stretch of the imagination. Nope he is just a tad obsessed. In matters of rising he will purposely seek out the chubbiest females to flirt with and chase. They are beautiful you see. The bounce they exhibit lovely to behold. Skinny or slim rising female firelizards will be utterly ignored. Nope only the chubby girls of the weyr gain any attention from him at all.
[check mark] By checking this box, I am saying that I have read the Rules and History, and will follow them.