Z'tras and Green Amanath
Played By: Cymiri
Character Name: Z’tras
Pronunciation: Za-tras
Character Type: Dragonrider
Rank: Wingrider
Political Alignment: Traditional
Age: 24
Gender: Male
Sexual Preference: Heterosexual
Appearance:
Z’tras looks delicate and fragile, the sort of boy that was in and out of the healer’s care as a child, though he has long since outgrown this and is actually a remarkably robust young man, physically fit and seldom suffering from ill-health. Neither tall nor short, his limbs are long and gangly, and his strength, whilst hardly overwhelming, has surprised several people simply because it looks like it should be non-existent. His features are neat and regular in a faintly tanned face, and seems as though he should wear glasses, regardless of the fact his eyesight is well above average- he just has that sort of face. He leaves his white-blonde hair quite long, usually at least to the bottom of the ears, or long enough to tie back if he can get away with it or forgets to have it cut, and when he is bent reading or writing it can become a curtain against the world outside, physically and mentally. The shape and set of his brows is elegant, and they frame his pale green eyes well, possibly his only really remarkable feature. His nose is high-bridged, fine-boned and ever so slightly aquiline. He carries with him a very dreamy air, appearing lost in his own thoughts much of the time.
Personality:
Z’tras is dreamy, though it isn’t a ‘lost-in-Harper-tales’ dreamy, but the ‘wondering-what-makes-it-tick’ type. He is curious about most things, and relishes knowledge for its own sake- knowing how many varieties of wild flower can be found in the mountains around Fort may not be useful, but it is interesting, and thus worth the effort to investigate. He has a constantly active mind, and this curiosity is a way of keeping it entertained without bothering others or earning unwanted attention from the more powerful. It does render him rather vague, and he always seems a little distanced from reality, which has earned more than a fair share of teasing and taunting through his life. It has a plus side, though- no one ever expects much of him because of it. He is innately gentle- he may trap a bug to study it further, but it will be carefully released afterwards, and he is the sort to grieve over another’s pain and weep over deaths, even of those people and things dismissed by others as too unimportant to be worth it.
It is probably that same gentleness that helped create the fatalistic streak to his nature. He know he is unimportant, he knows he deserves nothing and he knows that most of the people he comes into contact with will out rank him by far, and thus be able to do with him what they will- and that is just how it is. He sees the other non-ranking riders around him rail against it, some by trying to fight it, others simply by allowing themselves to believe they deserve better, but they aren’t arguments he can understand. He is not depressed or angsty, quite contrary in fact- he adores life, relishing every moment of it, and he will always strive to be the happiest he can- it is just that knows his place- the one the rankers pick for him- and that is as it should be.
There is a weird kind of contentment and solidity to be had in an attitude like that, particularly in a situations like Fort’s, and it has probably resulted in him being left alone a lot more than you would expect for such an easy target. A gentle, odd boy that is pitifully easy to break or hurt ought to be a bully’s delight, but the fact one’s victim does not see himself as victimized does seem to deter some, if not all, who would try it. It is, somehow, not that satisfying, and certainly takes the fun out of it! It is probably also the reason the Resistance tend to avoid him.
He keeps to himself, is intensely private, and seems content to be alone most of the time- though he will be polite enough and actually enjoy it if spoken to, he just doesn’t seek out company. He likes to be kept busy, preferably with something productive. Anyone who does choose to show him kindness- even the smallest- is deeply, dearly valued. Although a little naïve, he realizes most people presume a lot of things about him- particularly one big thing- that aren’t true, just because of the color of Amanath’s hide. He doesn’t care, not even enough to correct anyone’s impressions. When he impressed her, he rose above anything he had ever expected to be- and gained a most treasured gift, his precious, precious dragon. If it earns a few odd looks and snide remarks, so be it. If it requires bedding men too, so what? If it means appearing to be the sort who actually enjoys it, so he shall. If it means being plaything to any ranker who demands it- tough for him, he will do it. Amanath is the only being who has ever steadfastly believed that he was worth more than he believes he is. In return, she is the only being to whom his truest devotion lies. He will do anything to spare her even the slightest discomfort or unhappiness- and he will allow anything to happen to ensure it, too.
A flip side of this is that he has exceedingly strong control over their bond- a result of ensuring that the pain of a beating or injury never reaches her fully. If he ever had to, he could probably force her from a course of action by will, but he tends to be indulgent, and that has rarely been tested.
He does what he is told, obeys the rules, and delights in the small pleasures. Just because he doesn’t ask much of life doesn’t mean he doesn’t want to live it to its fullest, happiest and best for himself and his dragon.
Birth Place: Z’tras was born at Fort Weyr
Parents: Mother: Zenada, a lower cavern’s drudge. Father: Unknown rider, presumably Bronze as his mother mothed a gold flight, and ended up with him.
History:
Z’tras’ history is nothing exceptional. His mother had a decided lack of interest in her unwanted, accidentally conceived son, and he grew up in the crèche. He has never made any attempt to trace his father- even if he managed to find out, what bronzer would want a green riding son? It would be pointless. He is happy enough to be him. He doesn’t need the validation of a parental figure. Good thing too, since to most of the crèche workers he was just another in the crowd. He did miss out on quite a lot of a ‘normal’ childhood by being sickly, and it is probably at about this time he started to develop his independent, self-sufficient nature, as well as his hyper-active mind, forced to learn to entertain himself by circumstances that kept him in the infirmary instead of playing with his peers. No one was more glad then he when he finally outgrew that childhood weakness. These days, he barely even catches a sniffle in winter. He maintains a fondness for those in the healing craft for their kindnesses during those boring days, and he has a few almost-friends among their ranks.
As a teen, he was often picked to join any foraging parties sent outside the Weyr, his keen eyesight a boon both in finding wanted plants and in tracking animals- though he proved to be totally incapable of actually killing anything they tracked, and it became a standing joke among the kitchen staff that occasionally resurfaces.
He decided to take his right to stand relatively late, and remained a candidate for 3 turns. Candidacy was a little rough, especially as he got branded a greener early on. He kept quiet about the fact that he didn’t quite fit the bill, as he was just happy enough that they were actually letting him stand. He was particularly grateful for this close-mouthed-ness when it turned out he did impress green after all.
He had decided that this clutch would be his last, and was in fact just turning to slink off the sands very quietly, since it seemed this was going to be as big a disappointment as all the other times, when happy, irascible and thoroughly healthy Amanath bounced in front of him, sat down for all the world like one of the big hunting canines, and proclaimed herself his. He has never, ever, regretted it- not even when he was up to his elbows in gore, blood and muck chopping meat for her.
Weyrling life was easier, somehow- he liked being so constantly busy- and when they were finally allotted their own weyr it was bliss. Since flying with the wings, they have flown well, probably more due to Amanath’s talents then her sometimes dopey rider- though he would never willingly allow her to endanger her pretty hide. With good fortune, that lucky streak will continue.
A goldflight encounter brought Idana into his life. He'd never dare call it a relationship. He oscillates between desperately wishing they could make more of it and wishing he had the guts to send her on to better things.
Learning she was pregnant brought the timid rider a joy he daren't admit, and he adores both his son Zidan and his mother. If only he could offer either anything...
~~Dragon~~
Dragon Name: Amanath
Color: Green
Age: 5
Appearance:
Amanath is a very dark green, the green of moss and things that grown in damp places. Her hide shines as though wet, creating pools of even darker shading to enhance her color further. Along her wings, when in motion, this color shift can make it very difficult to tell where wing ends and sky begins, and her flight mates sometimes have to watch out for this, particularly when flaming. All in all, she seems all shadow and no highlight.
She has a narrow, patrician head with sharp features, and long, graceful limbs. Her brow ridges, coincidently, are very sharply angled, and create a lovely arch for her eyes- like rider, like dragon, one supposes. Her wings are streamlined, giving the impression of there being no spare wingsail at all, just enough for flight. She is lean rather than heavy set, and a little small for a green.
Personality:
((You. Stop. It’s you. I have been looking for you everywhere. You are the only one here who deserves me. Together we shall do everything! Let’s start… No, I think I would rather eat.)) Those were Amanath’s first words to her rider, and they show a lot about her. She is happy, jovial and good natured, with boundless enthusiasm for most things, and is likely to get involved in anything her rider finds of interest, peering over his shoulder to get in on the action if given half a chance. She will probably never really grow up, either. She enjoys being child-like too much. She is also quite irascible. The only thing she takes seriously is Thread- in fact, she takes it as a personal insult- and whilst fighting is the only time you will ever easily get to the nitty-gritty, tough-as-nails core her genial nature conceals. Do not cross this dragon, she is made of iron and will not back down except by direct command- and then it would have to be Z’tras or the ranking queens. Several times he has had to leap up, panicking, and stop her taking on an older or higher ranking dragon that has offended her or hurt him- another reason he keeps such a tight rein on letting her know when he is hurt.
She knows no fear and fears no boundaries- and she believes totally in her wonderful rider, refusing to see him as anything but. She will respect authority when given reason to or ordered to by her rider, but everyone else can go hang. Especially if she thinks they don’t like her rider. She is well aware that he dislikes seeing her kill and so, despite a nature that would be inclined to be messy, she kills quickly and cleanly and eats the same way. She isn’t half as finicky over cleanliness elsewhere, though, and the fact she is always so well kept is definitely up to Z’tras, not her.
Weyr of Origin: Fort
Pronunciation: Za-tras
Character Type: Dragonrider
Rank: Wingrider
Political Alignment: Traditional
Age: 24
Gender: Male
Sexual Preference: Heterosexual
Appearance:
Z’tras looks delicate and fragile, the sort of boy that was in and out of the healer’s care as a child, though he has long since outgrown this and is actually a remarkably robust young man, physically fit and seldom suffering from ill-health. Neither tall nor short, his limbs are long and gangly, and his strength, whilst hardly overwhelming, has surprised several people simply because it looks like it should be non-existent. His features are neat and regular in a faintly tanned face, and seems as though he should wear glasses, regardless of the fact his eyesight is well above average- he just has that sort of face. He leaves his white-blonde hair quite long, usually at least to the bottom of the ears, or long enough to tie back if he can get away with it or forgets to have it cut, and when he is bent reading or writing it can become a curtain against the world outside, physically and mentally. The shape and set of his brows is elegant, and they frame his pale green eyes well, possibly his only really remarkable feature. His nose is high-bridged, fine-boned and ever so slightly aquiline. He carries with him a very dreamy air, appearing lost in his own thoughts much of the time.
Personality:
Z’tras is dreamy, though it isn’t a ‘lost-in-Harper-tales’ dreamy, but the ‘wondering-what-makes-it-tick’ type. He is curious about most things, and relishes knowledge for its own sake- knowing how many varieties of wild flower can be found in the mountains around Fort may not be useful, but it is interesting, and thus worth the effort to investigate. He has a constantly active mind, and this curiosity is a way of keeping it entertained without bothering others or earning unwanted attention from the more powerful. It does render him rather vague, and he always seems a little distanced from reality, which has earned more than a fair share of teasing and taunting through his life. It has a plus side, though- no one ever expects much of him because of it. He is innately gentle- he may trap a bug to study it further, but it will be carefully released afterwards, and he is the sort to grieve over another’s pain and weep over deaths, even of those people and things dismissed by others as too unimportant to be worth it.
It is probably that same gentleness that helped create the fatalistic streak to his nature. He know he is unimportant, he knows he deserves nothing and he knows that most of the people he comes into contact with will out rank him by far, and thus be able to do with him what they will- and that is just how it is. He sees the other non-ranking riders around him rail against it, some by trying to fight it, others simply by allowing themselves to believe they deserve better, but they aren’t arguments he can understand. He is not depressed or angsty, quite contrary in fact- he adores life, relishing every moment of it, and he will always strive to be the happiest he can- it is just that knows his place- the one the rankers pick for him- and that is as it should be.
There is a weird kind of contentment and solidity to be had in an attitude like that, particularly in a situations like Fort’s, and it has probably resulted in him being left alone a lot more than you would expect for such an easy target. A gentle, odd boy that is pitifully easy to break or hurt ought to be a bully’s delight, but the fact one’s victim does not see himself as victimized does seem to deter some, if not all, who would try it. It is, somehow, not that satisfying, and certainly takes the fun out of it! It is probably also the reason the Resistance tend to avoid him.
He keeps to himself, is intensely private, and seems content to be alone most of the time- though he will be polite enough and actually enjoy it if spoken to, he just doesn’t seek out company. He likes to be kept busy, preferably with something productive. Anyone who does choose to show him kindness- even the smallest- is deeply, dearly valued. Although a little naïve, he realizes most people presume a lot of things about him- particularly one big thing- that aren’t true, just because of the color of Amanath’s hide. He doesn’t care, not even enough to correct anyone’s impressions. When he impressed her, he rose above anything he had ever expected to be- and gained a most treasured gift, his precious, precious dragon. If it earns a few odd looks and snide remarks, so be it. If it requires bedding men too, so what? If it means appearing to be the sort who actually enjoys it, so he shall. If it means being plaything to any ranker who demands it- tough for him, he will do it. Amanath is the only being who has ever steadfastly believed that he was worth more than he believes he is. In return, she is the only being to whom his truest devotion lies. He will do anything to spare her even the slightest discomfort or unhappiness- and he will allow anything to happen to ensure it, too.
A flip side of this is that he has exceedingly strong control over their bond- a result of ensuring that the pain of a beating or injury never reaches her fully. If he ever had to, he could probably force her from a course of action by will, but he tends to be indulgent, and that has rarely been tested.
He does what he is told, obeys the rules, and delights in the small pleasures. Just because he doesn’t ask much of life doesn’t mean he doesn’t want to live it to its fullest, happiest and best for himself and his dragon.
Birth Place: Z’tras was born at Fort Weyr
Parents: Mother: Zenada, a lower cavern’s drudge. Father: Unknown rider, presumably Bronze as his mother mothed a gold flight, and ended up with him.
History:
Z’tras’ history is nothing exceptional. His mother had a decided lack of interest in her unwanted, accidentally conceived son, and he grew up in the crèche. He has never made any attempt to trace his father- even if he managed to find out, what bronzer would want a green riding son? It would be pointless. He is happy enough to be him. He doesn’t need the validation of a parental figure. Good thing too, since to most of the crèche workers he was just another in the crowd. He did miss out on quite a lot of a ‘normal’ childhood by being sickly, and it is probably at about this time he started to develop his independent, self-sufficient nature, as well as his hyper-active mind, forced to learn to entertain himself by circumstances that kept him in the infirmary instead of playing with his peers. No one was more glad then he when he finally outgrew that childhood weakness. These days, he barely even catches a sniffle in winter. He maintains a fondness for those in the healing craft for their kindnesses during those boring days, and he has a few almost-friends among their ranks.
As a teen, he was often picked to join any foraging parties sent outside the Weyr, his keen eyesight a boon both in finding wanted plants and in tracking animals- though he proved to be totally incapable of actually killing anything they tracked, and it became a standing joke among the kitchen staff that occasionally resurfaces.
He decided to take his right to stand relatively late, and remained a candidate for 3 turns. Candidacy was a little rough, especially as he got branded a greener early on. He kept quiet about the fact that he didn’t quite fit the bill, as he was just happy enough that they were actually letting him stand. He was particularly grateful for this close-mouthed-ness when it turned out he did impress green after all.
He had decided that this clutch would be his last, and was in fact just turning to slink off the sands very quietly, since it seemed this was going to be as big a disappointment as all the other times, when happy, irascible and thoroughly healthy Amanath bounced in front of him, sat down for all the world like one of the big hunting canines, and proclaimed herself his. He has never, ever, regretted it- not even when he was up to his elbows in gore, blood and muck chopping meat for her.
Weyrling life was easier, somehow- he liked being so constantly busy- and when they were finally allotted their own weyr it was bliss. Since flying with the wings, they have flown well, probably more due to Amanath’s talents then her sometimes dopey rider- though he would never willingly allow her to endanger her pretty hide. With good fortune, that lucky streak will continue.
A goldflight encounter brought Idana into his life. He'd never dare call it a relationship. He oscillates between desperately wishing they could make more of it and wishing he had the guts to send her on to better things.
Learning she was pregnant brought the timid rider a joy he daren't admit, and he adores both his son Zidan and his mother. If only he could offer either anything...
~~Dragon~~
Dragon Name: Amanath
Color: Green
Age: 5
Appearance:
Amanath is a very dark green, the green of moss and things that grown in damp places. Her hide shines as though wet, creating pools of even darker shading to enhance her color further. Along her wings, when in motion, this color shift can make it very difficult to tell where wing ends and sky begins, and her flight mates sometimes have to watch out for this, particularly when flaming. All in all, she seems all shadow and no highlight.
She has a narrow, patrician head with sharp features, and long, graceful limbs. Her brow ridges, coincidently, are very sharply angled, and create a lovely arch for her eyes- like rider, like dragon, one supposes. Her wings are streamlined, giving the impression of there being no spare wingsail at all, just enough for flight. She is lean rather than heavy set, and a little small for a green.
Personality:
((You. Stop. It’s you. I have been looking for you everywhere. You are the only one here who deserves me. Together we shall do everything! Let’s start… No, I think I would rather eat.)) Those were Amanath’s first words to her rider, and they show a lot about her. She is happy, jovial and good natured, with boundless enthusiasm for most things, and is likely to get involved in anything her rider finds of interest, peering over his shoulder to get in on the action if given half a chance. She will probably never really grow up, either. She enjoys being child-like too much. She is also quite irascible. The only thing she takes seriously is Thread- in fact, she takes it as a personal insult- and whilst fighting is the only time you will ever easily get to the nitty-gritty, tough-as-nails core her genial nature conceals. Do not cross this dragon, she is made of iron and will not back down except by direct command- and then it would have to be Z’tras or the ranking queens. Several times he has had to leap up, panicking, and stop her taking on an older or higher ranking dragon that has offended her or hurt him- another reason he keeps such a tight rein on letting her know when he is hurt.
She knows no fear and fears no boundaries- and she believes totally in her wonderful rider, refusing to see him as anything but. She will respect authority when given reason to or ordered to by her rider, but everyone else can go hang. Especially if she thinks they don’t like her rider. She is well aware that he dislikes seeing her kill and so, despite a nature that would be inclined to be messy, she kills quickly and cleanly and eats the same way. She isn’t half as finicky over cleanliness elsewhere, though, and the fact she is always so well kept is definitely up to Z’tras, not her.
Weyr of Origin: Fort