S'zrel and Green Prinaceth
Played By: MyaL
Character Name: S'zrel
Pronunciation: si-ZREL
Character Type: Weyrling
Rank: Weyrling
Political Alignment: Status Quo
Age: 19
Gender: Male
Sexual Preference: Bisexual
Appearance:
He's pale, a smooth complexion several paces above what'd be considered sick, and you're thrown into the opposite spectrum from there. Whether you consider his pitch black hair or sienna-colored eyes, neither are less monotone but together each coloration shimmers in their contrasting nature. They seem as something that's just emerged from the shadows, something not meant for daylight because he'd stand out more substantially during the night...where none of it would've seemingly faded against the sunlight. Such a combination leaves his serious expression seeming almost sensuous.
Something about it would've seemed dangerous were his shape more prominent. His muscles, because they're smooth and wiry, stretch the skin covering them taut with ripples teasing across him whenever he moves. Beyond his chiseled pose there's other prominent features keeping his 5 foot-9 inches apparent in a good-looking cross between lovely and handsome. The flat abdomen insures his chest isn't unimpressive, instead it juts outward an inch with hips another inch wider against his narrow waist. Since there's no fat making an appearance either, he's a limber, flexible creature carried around on legs that are somewhat longer than what's normal. Calluses do mar otherwise undamaged, slender hands, in particular his dominant right-hand, giving testament to the writing he's done.
Said smoothness continued onto his face as sharp lines rising from a rounded chin, becoming a narrow oval at nose level. Against the cheekbones set somewhat prominent underneath the hooded eyes, his narrow nose seems rather delicate surrounded in bangs that are no more than wisps. Those thicken into silken, shoulder-length strands on either side with tips curling inward, their feathery ends tickling him rather often, and beginning from his ears is cut across the back at the nape of his neck. His family's caravan symbol is tattooed in the middle of his forehead and his jawline goes straight back, not curving any direction until it turns sharply toward his ears.
Personality:
As someone who'd not dare miss even the smallest movement, Sazrell, though an observer himself, won't seek attention, especially what comes from staring too long. His discomfort when the spotlight on him makes him rude when addressed. Then manners that are otherwise impeccable compensate for his aunt wearing down the sense of self-worth, he'll remember and recognize a rank knot once he's seen it. For some reason, despite his knack in estimation or tactics, he can't view himself as above the common drudge. Neither does he trust anyone, he picks those he cares about almost too carefully, keeping them an emotional distance unless they've somehow earned his respect beforehand. There are, however, more firelizard eggs found in Fort's vicinity than someone working themselves into his life but once won over he'd jump from the Rim if asked.
He won't let anyone else witness his deeper emotions or thoughts, nor risk himself to more than one person at once either. Chances are should this person never seek a romantic attachment with him then Sazrell won't search out a relation at this point in his life. He'll stay in the background letting someone else take the glory for his good planning since this leaves him without as many he must face, which makes him seem almost shy. Were it possible he'd hide himself, however, he knows doing so would attract more attention if someone notices; more proof that anyone would discover a sharp mind behind his prickly exterior if they stayed around after his first remark. There's his OCD not too far behind that but Sazrell despite his cleanly nature doesn't act much like he realizes his good appearance. He does have some attraction to being bound.
Birthplace: Southern Boll
Birthday: Month 1. Day 16. Turn 3
Parents: Rellsen and Azwyn
History:
His family became tattooists two generations before his birth with Azwyn and her sister Wynvua continuing the caravan themselves once their parents settled down in Southern Boll. During one visit they spent some time in the neighboring cothold and there Azwyn met her husband, Rellsen.
Rellsen was selfish and shallow, not someone that'd win over someone motherly like Azwyn but his artistic work became part of the tattoos she offered. 4 Turns after he joined the caravan his art won the war going on for her love. Their marriage lasted 6 Turns until Rellsen was out painting some landscape images with Threadfall on the horizon and when it seemed he must've lost track of time Azwyn went to remind him...neither ever returned before Threadfall struck leaving their son in Wynvua's care.
It changed the small caravan substantially as Wynvua wasn't blessed with motherly instinct, instead his aunt became bitter and frustrated over inheriting her sister's work too. Though she never directed it against Sazrell, she never was exceptionally kind or attentive beyond making sure he got harper lessons. He absorbed them in complete eagerness for such knowledge but, no matter what he learned, she wouldn't praise him, never had time for something so trivial since all she cared about was him becoming independent. Once the TE Gather during his 10th Turn came around she couldn't stand seeing him study or run around checking out nearby stall. The moment he returned from one baker's stall she stuffed a pen and sales list into his hand, telling him he should record their sales. Given his aunt's harsh "I don't have time for 20 questions. Go ask someone else." whenever he'd asked about himself Sazrell couldn't even guess his own age. From that Gather, however, he came to the conclusion he must be twelve Turns old.
Turns past with him continuing to work and she let small amounts of information slip about his parents, about them being caught outside during Threadfall when he'd been almost 2 turns. Not too long afterward she also tattooed their caravan's symbol onto his forehead.
Something about these events triggered him into wanting to mark the occasion somehow; he did so by letting his hair grow out. It reached his mid-back before a Searchrider from Fort arrived and wanted to Search him. When warned his hair would be deemed too long he would've refused the Search... Except his aunt asked for a moment to discuss it and, once in private, she grabbed his hair and drug him over onto a chair where she proceeded to chop the back off before he could recover his wits.
With the hair gone she sent him to answer the Searchrider. Accepting the Search this time he becomes a Candidate on 20.03.01. Sazrell's unaware, as was Wynvua, that he has actual family from his father's side living in Fort Weyr. He met two other Trader's the day he arrived and has been keeping close with the now A'sar. Then gold from the GhostWalker class rose, which he spent the duration of with A'sar. At said hatching the first dragon, a green, that Impressed chose him making him part of the HarvestHunter class!
~~Dragon~~
Dragon Name: Prinaceth
Color: Green
Age: 1 Turns
Wing/Weyrling Group: Harvest Hunters
Appearance:
Prinaceth is, in a word, voluptuous. She is a green of sweet, rounded curves, not a sharp angle to be found on her. She'll grow to be as fit as any of her fellows, but whatever muscle she can boast will always be hidden under a look of soft feminity. In particular, her hindquarters are rounded; no one's ever bothered to ask a dragon if they find certain physical characteristics appealing the way that humans do, but IF they did, Prinaceth would certainly have a booty to appreciate. Her hide is candy-mint green, that particular rich, sweet pastel shade found only on the sugariest treats that threaten to rot your teeth right out of your mouth. A large dot of shining emerald graces her chest, and a circlet of the same rounds her headknobs and decorates her wingspurs.
Personality:
It's hard to believe, especially given the fierce greens Fort has a habit of churning out, but Prinaceth is every bit as sweet as she appears. She will never exhibit anger, and if she ever grows frustrated or thinks a negative thought, she will certainly never let it show, not even to her rider. She'll make a name for herself by always being perfectly composed, warmth in her regard for everyone she comes across. She is gentle, and all around KIND.
It'd be easy to think of her as a pushover, because she lets everyone treat her as they will, with never a complaint to be heard nor a disapproving sigh. She'll submit to even the worst bullying, simply accepting it as given, and hardly even seeming to hold it against the bullies themselves. Prinaceth is sure they have their reasons, and it's not worth ruffling her feathers over by growing upset about it. She has a remarkable capacity to roll with every punch, undaunted, always with high spirits. It will of course infuriate some dragons whose temperaments demand seeing her cowed and ground down beneath them, but Prinaceth just can't be kept down.
Maybe she's just a little wiser than most, and is able to see that things will never be perfect, so she might as well live her life as best as she's able, no matter what is thrown at her. She's certainly clever enough to know that it will never serve a green well to resent the bigger males, or be angry with them for the way they are. Instead she forgives, and trusts that things will work themselves out in the end. Call it hopelessly optimistic, but she is content to carry on, and trust that for every bully, there is surely a hero out there who will eventually save her.
Weyr of Orgin: Fort Weyr
Abilities and weaknesses: Aside from her resilience she'll be graceful, have a large flame and be well suited for dealing with potential Candidates. Perhaps she'll have other makings for a Searchdragon later on. However, she'll not be that agile compared to other greens.
Pronunciation: si-ZREL
Character Type: Weyrling
Rank: Weyrling
Political Alignment: Status Quo
Age: 19
Gender: Male
Sexual Preference: Bisexual
Appearance:
He's pale, a smooth complexion several paces above what'd be considered sick, and you're thrown into the opposite spectrum from there. Whether you consider his pitch black hair or sienna-colored eyes, neither are less monotone but together each coloration shimmers in their contrasting nature. They seem as something that's just emerged from the shadows, something not meant for daylight because he'd stand out more substantially during the night...where none of it would've seemingly faded against the sunlight. Such a combination leaves his serious expression seeming almost sensuous.
Something about it would've seemed dangerous were his shape more prominent. His muscles, because they're smooth and wiry, stretch the skin covering them taut with ripples teasing across him whenever he moves. Beyond his chiseled pose there's other prominent features keeping his 5 foot-9 inches apparent in a good-looking cross between lovely and handsome. The flat abdomen insures his chest isn't unimpressive, instead it juts outward an inch with hips another inch wider against his narrow waist. Since there's no fat making an appearance either, he's a limber, flexible creature carried around on legs that are somewhat longer than what's normal. Calluses do mar otherwise undamaged, slender hands, in particular his dominant right-hand, giving testament to the writing he's done.
Said smoothness continued onto his face as sharp lines rising from a rounded chin, becoming a narrow oval at nose level. Against the cheekbones set somewhat prominent underneath the hooded eyes, his narrow nose seems rather delicate surrounded in bangs that are no more than wisps. Those thicken into silken, shoulder-length strands on either side with tips curling inward, their feathery ends tickling him rather often, and beginning from his ears is cut across the back at the nape of his neck. His family's caravan symbol is tattooed in the middle of his forehead and his jawline goes straight back, not curving any direction until it turns sharply toward his ears.
Personality:
As someone who'd not dare miss even the smallest movement, Sazrell, though an observer himself, won't seek attention, especially what comes from staring too long. His discomfort when the spotlight on him makes him rude when addressed. Then manners that are otherwise impeccable compensate for his aunt wearing down the sense of self-worth, he'll remember and recognize a rank knot once he's seen it. For some reason, despite his knack in estimation or tactics, he can't view himself as above the common drudge. Neither does he trust anyone, he picks those he cares about almost too carefully, keeping them an emotional distance unless they've somehow earned his respect beforehand. There are, however, more firelizard eggs found in Fort's vicinity than someone working themselves into his life but once won over he'd jump from the Rim if asked.
He won't let anyone else witness his deeper emotions or thoughts, nor risk himself to more than one person at once either. Chances are should this person never seek a romantic attachment with him then Sazrell won't search out a relation at this point in his life. He'll stay in the background letting someone else take the glory for his good planning since this leaves him without as many he must face, which makes him seem almost shy. Were it possible he'd hide himself, however, he knows doing so would attract more attention if someone notices; more proof that anyone would discover a sharp mind behind his prickly exterior if they stayed around after his first remark. There's his OCD not too far behind that but Sazrell despite his cleanly nature doesn't act much like he realizes his good appearance. He does have some attraction to being bound.
Birthplace: Southern Boll
Birthday: Month 1. Day 16. Turn 3
Parents: Rellsen and Azwyn
History:
His family became tattooists two generations before his birth with Azwyn and her sister Wynvua continuing the caravan themselves once their parents settled down in Southern Boll. During one visit they spent some time in the neighboring cothold and there Azwyn met her husband, Rellsen.
Rellsen was selfish and shallow, not someone that'd win over someone motherly like Azwyn but his artistic work became part of the tattoos she offered. 4 Turns after he joined the caravan his art won the war going on for her love. Their marriage lasted 6 Turns until Rellsen was out painting some landscape images with Threadfall on the horizon and when it seemed he must've lost track of time Azwyn went to remind him...neither ever returned before Threadfall struck leaving their son in Wynvua's care.
It changed the small caravan substantially as Wynvua wasn't blessed with motherly instinct, instead his aunt became bitter and frustrated over inheriting her sister's work too. Though she never directed it against Sazrell, she never was exceptionally kind or attentive beyond making sure he got harper lessons. He absorbed them in complete eagerness for such knowledge but, no matter what he learned, she wouldn't praise him, never had time for something so trivial since all she cared about was him becoming independent. Once the TE Gather during his 10th Turn came around she couldn't stand seeing him study or run around checking out nearby stall. The moment he returned from one baker's stall she stuffed a pen and sales list into his hand, telling him he should record their sales. Given his aunt's harsh "I don't have time for 20 questions. Go ask someone else." whenever he'd asked about himself Sazrell couldn't even guess his own age. From that Gather, however, he came to the conclusion he must be twelve Turns old.
Turns past with him continuing to work and she let small amounts of information slip about his parents, about them being caught outside during Threadfall when he'd been almost 2 turns. Not too long afterward she also tattooed their caravan's symbol onto his forehead.
Something about these events triggered him into wanting to mark the occasion somehow; he did so by letting his hair grow out. It reached his mid-back before a Searchrider from Fort arrived and wanted to Search him. When warned his hair would be deemed too long he would've refused the Search... Except his aunt asked for a moment to discuss it and, once in private, she grabbed his hair and drug him over onto a chair where she proceeded to chop the back off before he could recover his wits.
With the hair gone she sent him to answer the Searchrider. Accepting the Search this time he becomes a Candidate on 20.03.01. Sazrell's unaware, as was Wynvua, that he has actual family from his father's side living in Fort Weyr. He met two other Trader's the day he arrived and has been keeping close with the now A'sar. Then gold from the GhostWalker class rose, which he spent the duration of with A'sar. At said hatching the first dragon, a green, that Impressed chose him making him part of the HarvestHunter class!
~~Dragon~~
Dragon Name: Prinaceth
Color: Green
Age: 1 Turns
Wing/Weyrling Group: Harvest Hunters
Appearance:
Prinaceth is, in a word, voluptuous. She is a green of sweet, rounded curves, not a sharp angle to be found on her. She'll grow to be as fit as any of her fellows, but whatever muscle she can boast will always be hidden under a look of soft feminity. In particular, her hindquarters are rounded; no one's ever bothered to ask a dragon if they find certain physical characteristics appealing the way that humans do, but IF they did, Prinaceth would certainly have a booty to appreciate. Her hide is candy-mint green, that particular rich, sweet pastel shade found only on the sugariest treats that threaten to rot your teeth right out of your mouth. A large dot of shining emerald graces her chest, and a circlet of the same rounds her headknobs and decorates her wingspurs.
Personality:
It's hard to believe, especially given the fierce greens Fort has a habit of churning out, but Prinaceth is every bit as sweet as she appears. She will never exhibit anger, and if she ever grows frustrated or thinks a negative thought, she will certainly never let it show, not even to her rider. She'll make a name for herself by always being perfectly composed, warmth in her regard for everyone she comes across. She is gentle, and all around KIND.
It'd be easy to think of her as a pushover, because she lets everyone treat her as they will, with never a complaint to be heard nor a disapproving sigh. She'll submit to even the worst bullying, simply accepting it as given, and hardly even seeming to hold it against the bullies themselves. Prinaceth is sure they have their reasons, and it's not worth ruffling her feathers over by growing upset about it. She has a remarkable capacity to roll with every punch, undaunted, always with high spirits. It will of course infuriate some dragons whose temperaments demand seeing her cowed and ground down beneath them, but Prinaceth just can't be kept down.
Maybe she's just a little wiser than most, and is able to see that things will never be perfect, so she might as well live her life as best as she's able, no matter what is thrown at her. She's certainly clever enough to know that it will never serve a green well to resent the bigger males, or be angry with them for the way they are. Instead she forgives, and trusts that things will work themselves out in the end. Call it hopelessly optimistic, but she is content to carry on, and trust that for every bully, there is surely a hero out there who will eventually save her.
Weyr of Orgin: Fort Weyr
Abilities and weaknesses: Aside from her resilience she'll be graceful, have a large flame and be well suited for dealing with potential Candidates. Perhaps she'll have other makings for a Searchdragon later on. However, she'll not be that agile compared to other greens.