D'nal and Brown Sennabeth
Played By: Cymiri
Character Name: D'nal
Pronunciation: De Nal
Character Type: Weyrling
Rank: Weyrling
Political Alignment: Himself, til he has answers. But in a wimpy way.
Age: 17
Gender: Male.
Sexual Preference: Hetrosexual
Appearance:
D'nal is the splitting image of his father. Uncannily so. His poor mother got next to no input into the lad. He lacks the kink to his nose, and his mother gifted him a slightly blonde undertone to the mousy brown hair, but that's it. Ironically, they share hairdos too-thick, straight hair worn brushing his ears, not long enough to irritate and not really short enough to call any kind of style. The same hooded eyes D'nalban had, that sometimes appear quite sunken, also in the same warm rich brown, watch the world- but with a lot more interest. He is short but blessed with an athletic and graceful build, though no one is going to be swooning over him.
D'nal is once again the ultimate face in the crowd, pleasant enough but with little to set him apart. In a line up, you would have great difficulty remembering if it was him you saw, or any of the others. Even the odd casual flight partner might find themselves trying to place the face...the next morning. While it bothered his quiet father somewhat despite that shyness, D'nal finds it useful.
Probably because D'nal is canny in a way his parents never were.
Personality:
D'nal, as yet, lacks his father's melancholy soul. Mainly because he also lacks the cut-off promise and wrong decision that marred his father's life. He's the look of a lost soul never the less. The nagging, background vague discontent would be familiar to anyone who knew his sire or indeed, his mother. He's a little more drive than his father, but kept the ability when given a task or the right motivation to work like a demon. When without one he is slightly less hopeless, and can make his own busywork as his father never could, possibly why he's a brownrider and his father wasn't.
Thing is, unlike his sire, being a dragonrider completes D'nal. He was born a no-hope, no-notice drudge, and this is the heights of aspiration and achievement for him. He's forever now part of the ranks of the privileged. Luckily for everyone, he inherited his mother's kind streak too. Though a few bad experiences has tempered that a bit and a few more could break it totally...or twist it.
It helps that the talent- the wonderful, sparkling, precious talent that was his father's best legacy to him- has been carefully diverted by his mother. Never thwarted- she saw what doing that made of a good man- just...ignored, in a casual way aimed to not draw the boy's attention to it at all. D'nal has all of his father's talent with art. He just doesn't realize it, or pay attention to the fact that those doodles he leaves on the weyrling scrap-hide would make even the most withdrawn craft master leap for excitement. Everyone doodles, don't they?
Again like the father he never really knew, one thing he has in abundance is loyalty, and he is capable, competent and quick witted. Earn his devotion and you will have it for life. He's so far proved very much D'nalban's son in remaining too nondescript to attract attention, positive or negative, from the higher ups and too even natured to be noticed by the lower folk. Whether he will be more than an average rider remains to be seen. He certainly has no ambition to be so.
Few realize he has a remarkable eye for detail, and unwittingly soaks up these same details around him. Loose a wine skin in his presence, and he will be able to tell you exactly where you put it without even thinking. Ask him what color the Lady so and so wore to the last gather, he will know. Ask him months later, and there is a good chance he will still get it right.
Does that sound familiar?
Unlike in his father, though, he knows the capability's there. He also realizes it is a useful tool- and keeps it quiet for that reason. He just doesn't fully realize the powerful uses it could have, though.
But he's getting there.
Birthplace: Fort
Parents: Drudge Cirissa and Bluerider D'nalban
History:
Cirissa was born nothing but a kitchen drudge. And she is a petrified one too, trusting no one and nothing. She is smart, but never learnt to recognize that. All she learnt was the place of a drudge girl at Fort. Perpetually assigned to the petty drudgery of catering to lower end chromatics, her life was pretty set and she was fairly content, though with a nagging discontent also lay in there somewhere. Maybe that's what attracted her to her lover. Like most of the weyr girls, she'd learnt to idolize Weyrmen. Like most of them, she also realized that, whatever the establishment's line on these things, one was more likely to meet chromatics then the elite. But what rider, even chromatic, would be remotely interested in something as unexciting as her? Usually not very kind natured ones.
One night, she was pulled aside by one of the rider's whose weyrs she served. To her surprise, what he wanted from her wasn't what was usually demanded. It was faintly peculiar, in fact- it was simply to let her know a certain signal that he'd rather not be disturbed by her cleaning that day. It sparked the curiosity she'd always denied. She satisfied it one night by sneaking in to see *what* it was he didn't want disturbed.
Whatever she'd imagined, she'd never presumed she'd find the setting of a still life portrait. She got caught, too, but far from a beating he refrained from more than an embarrassed blush. Slowly and gently, because she has a very kind streak in that docile nature, she became one of a few who ever wormed their way under D'nalban's shell enough to be trusted in the world of the man and the talent-he-wished-he-could-indulge. And she fell both in love and into utter, star-struck awe of his talents.
Eventually she fell pregnant too. Drudge girls were perpetually pregnant and D'nalban hardly questioned anything least someone smack him for it, especially in those early years with weyrlinghood a painfully close memory. While Crissa adored her special bluerider, she never admitted the pertinent fact of who the child belonged to, still scared at heart she'd done something wrong, terrified she'd lose him and her access to the magic of another world, of art and prettiness and gentle things and men who didn't shout and scream and take out their temper on the only creatures lower than them in the pecking order....
So D'nalban never met his son and Deanal...only ever named for his father and not his mother, who saw no real reason a boy would want to remember a drudge no one... never was introduced to his father. Which doesn't mean he never found out about him. Cirissa tried to not encourage curiosity in that direction in her son just as she diverted his artistic leanings, but she couldn't help it...she was proud of who D'nalban was, if no one else seemed to be, and things leaked out. Especially as Deanal got older and realized the less he asked, the more his mother would leak from sheer *need* to share her pride with someone. Deanal knows enough about his father to know who he was. He's never been ashamed of that either. Nothing wrong with being any rider's son, nothing wrong with a gifted crafter as a father. Something wrong with the fact people think there should be. But never mind that for now. He's fairly proud of the man- and in a way more rooted in logic then his mother's adoration. No small amount of that pride is because he was a man kind to drudges like his adored mother. D'nal yearns, though he barely realizes it, to have had more to do with his father then the odd [manufactured] chance encounter he did.
If D'nalban had ever looked *up*, those keen eyes may have noticed the brat who ran into his legs, and the boy who delivered his klah, and the young man bringing wing notes had those self same eyes in a desperately familiar face. Maybe it would have made him a bit happier than he was. Or maybe it would have scared him to death, especially when the boy started standing.
D'nal would really, really like to know what happened to his father. Really he would. Its one of several fermenting things- a natural sense of injustice being another- held in the brain of the quiet boy who attracted himself a brown dragon fourth time on the sands and almost bust his mother's heart in pride.
For the moment, though, he keeps those thoughts behind quick dark eyes and watches.
D'nal, though he doesn't realize it, is the mold breaker in the line of men in his family. D'nalban's father ruined his life by allowing his own father to force him not to accept search- and his son's was ruined in turn by his insistence that he did. Maybe having no one tell him what to do will save him.
Maybe what's brewing in that discontented mind- legacy of *both* parents- won't land him in deathly trouble.
Maybe not.
~~Dragon~~
Dragon Name: Sennabeth
Color: Brown
Age: 6 months
Weyrling Group: Flame Dancers
Appearance:
Sennabeth is really rather dark for a brown. He's a brown because 'dark almost-black' isn't a colour you get dragons in. It makes his eyes stand out, though, especially as they twinkle with interest. He shares one legacy with the blue-he-never-met-and-doesn't-understand-his-rider-thinking-on [isn't he much better after all?]...he is built on beautiful lines, up to and including an aristocratic head and haughty snout.
Since his clutch no longer have their gold dam among them, he's free to tell himself that's because of her noble, wonderful breeding and a sign of the legacy he was born to uphold. He's worried by recent developments, when he remembers them
Personality:
Sennabeth may share a similarity of name to his rider's sire's own blue, but its all they share. The background is the last place Sennabeth longs to be. Only his rider's natural inclination to think from the shadows holds him back from leaping singing and dancing into the place he believes is his. Why? Because Sennabeth is rather sure D'nal's shifty inclinations are even better for them both and sure, he'll spy from the shadows too.
He dislikes both bronzes in his clutch, and pays lip service only when made to. Secretly, he is a little bit jealous of the bond between D'nal and D'nal's mother- he feels the lack of HIS gold mother because of it.
Sennabeth is even more driven than his rider. Things could get interesting.
Weyr of Origin: Fort
Abilities and weaknesses:
Sennabeth may not be a particularly safe choice of dragon for D'nal. He too has fermenting dissatisfactions hardwired into his mind. Together, they'll either be wonderful- or fateful. They certainly fight the least of any pair in their year- and that's saying something. Sennabeth has slid into a natural position that's half dragon, half brother to D'nal. They are a brilliant team- but neither have reason to trust the establishment, and neither have time for the resistance, and that makes them a loose cannon.
More prosaically, Sennabeth's eyesight is not quite a clear as it should perhaps be, but he masks it well, especially with his bright eyed rider's help. He's got fast reflexes that help make up for it.
Pronunciation: De Nal
Character Type: Weyrling
Rank: Weyrling
Political Alignment: Himself, til he has answers. But in a wimpy way.
Age: 17
Gender: Male.
Sexual Preference: Hetrosexual
Appearance:
D'nal is the splitting image of his father. Uncannily so. His poor mother got next to no input into the lad. He lacks the kink to his nose, and his mother gifted him a slightly blonde undertone to the mousy brown hair, but that's it. Ironically, they share hairdos too-thick, straight hair worn brushing his ears, not long enough to irritate and not really short enough to call any kind of style. The same hooded eyes D'nalban had, that sometimes appear quite sunken, also in the same warm rich brown, watch the world- but with a lot more interest. He is short but blessed with an athletic and graceful build, though no one is going to be swooning over him.
D'nal is once again the ultimate face in the crowd, pleasant enough but with little to set him apart. In a line up, you would have great difficulty remembering if it was him you saw, or any of the others. Even the odd casual flight partner might find themselves trying to place the face...the next morning. While it bothered his quiet father somewhat despite that shyness, D'nal finds it useful.
Probably because D'nal is canny in a way his parents never were.
Personality:
D'nal, as yet, lacks his father's melancholy soul. Mainly because he also lacks the cut-off promise and wrong decision that marred his father's life. He's the look of a lost soul never the less. The nagging, background vague discontent would be familiar to anyone who knew his sire or indeed, his mother. He's a little more drive than his father, but kept the ability when given a task or the right motivation to work like a demon. When without one he is slightly less hopeless, and can make his own busywork as his father never could, possibly why he's a brownrider and his father wasn't.
Thing is, unlike his sire, being a dragonrider completes D'nal. He was born a no-hope, no-notice drudge, and this is the heights of aspiration and achievement for him. He's forever now part of the ranks of the privileged. Luckily for everyone, he inherited his mother's kind streak too. Though a few bad experiences has tempered that a bit and a few more could break it totally...or twist it.
It helps that the talent- the wonderful, sparkling, precious talent that was his father's best legacy to him- has been carefully diverted by his mother. Never thwarted- she saw what doing that made of a good man- just...ignored, in a casual way aimed to not draw the boy's attention to it at all. D'nal has all of his father's talent with art. He just doesn't realize it, or pay attention to the fact that those doodles he leaves on the weyrling scrap-hide would make even the most withdrawn craft master leap for excitement. Everyone doodles, don't they?
Again like the father he never really knew, one thing he has in abundance is loyalty, and he is capable, competent and quick witted. Earn his devotion and you will have it for life. He's so far proved very much D'nalban's son in remaining too nondescript to attract attention, positive or negative, from the higher ups and too even natured to be noticed by the lower folk. Whether he will be more than an average rider remains to be seen. He certainly has no ambition to be so.
Few realize he has a remarkable eye for detail, and unwittingly soaks up these same details around him. Loose a wine skin in his presence, and he will be able to tell you exactly where you put it without even thinking. Ask him what color the Lady so and so wore to the last gather, he will know. Ask him months later, and there is a good chance he will still get it right.
Does that sound familiar?
Unlike in his father, though, he knows the capability's there. He also realizes it is a useful tool- and keeps it quiet for that reason. He just doesn't fully realize the powerful uses it could have, though.
But he's getting there.
Birthplace: Fort
Parents: Drudge Cirissa and Bluerider D'nalban
History:
Cirissa was born nothing but a kitchen drudge. And she is a petrified one too, trusting no one and nothing. She is smart, but never learnt to recognize that. All she learnt was the place of a drudge girl at Fort. Perpetually assigned to the petty drudgery of catering to lower end chromatics, her life was pretty set and she was fairly content, though with a nagging discontent also lay in there somewhere. Maybe that's what attracted her to her lover. Like most of the weyr girls, she'd learnt to idolize Weyrmen. Like most of them, she also realized that, whatever the establishment's line on these things, one was more likely to meet chromatics then the elite. But what rider, even chromatic, would be remotely interested in something as unexciting as her? Usually not very kind natured ones.
One night, she was pulled aside by one of the rider's whose weyrs she served. To her surprise, what he wanted from her wasn't what was usually demanded. It was faintly peculiar, in fact- it was simply to let her know a certain signal that he'd rather not be disturbed by her cleaning that day. It sparked the curiosity she'd always denied. She satisfied it one night by sneaking in to see *what* it was he didn't want disturbed.
Whatever she'd imagined, she'd never presumed she'd find the setting of a still life portrait. She got caught, too, but far from a beating he refrained from more than an embarrassed blush. Slowly and gently, because she has a very kind streak in that docile nature, she became one of a few who ever wormed their way under D'nalban's shell enough to be trusted in the world of the man and the talent-he-wished-he-could-indulge. And she fell both in love and into utter, star-struck awe of his talents.
Eventually she fell pregnant too. Drudge girls were perpetually pregnant and D'nalban hardly questioned anything least someone smack him for it, especially in those early years with weyrlinghood a painfully close memory. While Crissa adored her special bluerider, she never admitted the pertinent fact of who the child belonged to, still scared at heart she'd done something wrong, terrified she'd lose him and her access to the magic of another world, of art and prettiness and gentle things and men who didn't shout and scream and take out their temper on the only creatures lower than them in the pecking order....
So D'nalban never met his son and Deanal...only ever named for his father and not his mother, who saw no real reason a boy would want to remember a drudge no one... never was introduced to his father. Which doesn't mean he never found out about him. Cirissa tried to not encourage curiosity in that direction in her son just as she diverted his artistic leanings, but she couldn't help it...she was proud of who D'nalban was, if no one else seemed to be, and things leaked out. Especially as Deanal got older and realized the less he asked, the more his mother would leak from sheer *need* to share her pride with someone. Deanal knows enough about his father to know who he was. He's never been ashamed of that either. Nothing wrong with being any rider's son, nothing wrong with a gifted crafter as a father. Something wrong with the fact people think there should be. But never mind that for now. He's fairly proud of the man- and in a way more rooted in logic then his mother's adoration. No small amount of that pride is because he was a man kind to drudges like his adored mother. D'nal yearns, though he barely realizes it, to have had more to do with his father then the odd [manufactured] chance encounter he did.
If D'nalban had ever looked *up*, those keen eyes may have noticed the brat who ran into his legs, and the boy who delivered his klah, and the young man bringing wing notes had those self same eyes in a desperately familiar face. Maybe it would have made him a bit happier than he was. Or maybe it would have scared him to death, especially when the boy started standing.
D'nal would really, really like to know what happened to his father. Really he would. Its one of several fermenting things- a natural sense of injustice being another- held in the brain of the quiet boy who attracted himself a brown dragon fourth time on the sands and almost bust his mother's heart in pride.
For the moment, though, he keeps those thoughts behind quick dark eyes and watches.
D'nal, though he doesn't realize it, is the mold breaker in the line of men in his family. D'nalban's father ruined his life by allowing his own father to force him not to accept search- and his son's was ruined in turn by his insistence that he did. Maybe having no one tell him what to do will save him.
Maybe what's brewing in that discontented mind- legacy of *both* parents- won't land him in deathly trouble.
Maybe not.
~~Dragon~~
Dragon Name: Sennabeth
Color: Brown
Age: 6 months
Weyrling Group: Flame Dancers
Appearance:
Sennabeth is really rather dark for a brown. He's a brown because 'dark almost-black' isn't a colour you get dragons in. It makes his eyes stand out, though, especially as they twinkle with interest. He shares one legacy with the blue-he-never-met-and-doesn't-understand-his-rider-thinking-on [isn't he much better after all?]...he is built on beautiful lines, up to and including an aristocratic head and haughty snout.
Since his clutch no longer have their gold dam among them, he's free to tell himself that's because of her noble, wonderful breeding and a sign of the legacy he was born to uphold. He's worried by recent developments, when he remembers them
Personality:
Sennabeth may share a similarity of name to his rider's sire's own blue, but its all they share. The background is the last place Sennabeth longs to be. Only his rider's natural inclination to think from the shadows holds him back from leaping singing and dancing into the place he believes is his. Why? Because Sennabeth is rather sure D'nal's shifty inclinations are even better for them both and sure, he'll spy from the shadows too.
He dislikes both bronzes in his clutch, and pays lip service only when made to. Secretly, he is a little bit jealous of the bond between D'nal and D'nal's mother- he feels the lack of HIS gold mother because of it.
Sennabeth is even more driven than his rider. Things could get interesting.
Weyr of Origin: Fort
Abilities and weaknesses:
Sennabeth may not be a particularly safe choice of dragon for D'nal. He too has fermenting dissatisfactions hardwired into his mind. Together, they'll either be wonderful- or fateful. They certainly fight the least of any pair in their year- and that's saying something. Sennabeth has slid into a natural position that's half dragon, half brother to D'nal. They are a brilliant team- but neither have reason to trust the establishment, and neither have time for the resistance, and that makes them a loose cannon.
More prosaically, Sennabeth's eyesight is not quite a clear as it should perhaps be, but he masks it well, especially with his bright eyed rider's help. He's got fast reflexes that help make up for it.