Post by Wish on Jul 30, 2012 1:28:36 GMT -4
Zephyr
Name: Zephyr
Pronunciation: Seph-er
Age: 23 turns
Season Born In: Winter
Gender: Male
Sexuality: Equal opportunist
Appearance:
To say that Zephyr is a guy easily overlooked isn't something that is entirely true. I mean sure he has a habit of hiding in that dark corner of the room with his head down and an amused, half-insane grin on his face, but if you actually looked at him, well that's an interesting sight some would say. He has a bit of a rugged, bad-boy thing going on that tends to suit him pretty well; chestnut brown hair somewhat short and yet always looking like he just rolled out of bed and scruff on his face, not to mention the occasional smudge of dirt. He has ice blue eyes though, incredibly faded and light to the point that the color can be picked out from across the room. There's no chance of mistaking them for another color perhaps grey. He has a scar as well, hidden partially by his hair, but the white line that reaches from the upper corner of his jaw hinge to the corner of his eye-socket can be seen on the left side of his face.
It's not the only one. He has scars and other marks in spades along his back and even arms, trophies he would say though always with a sarcastic tone of voice. He's not exactly shy about them, but he's not proud either and instead tends to just be downright annoyed if they're ever pointed out. Despite them however they tend to not entirely take away from his tanned skin and yes, fit body. At about 6ft 2in, he's fairly tall and ranges on the lanky side though he takes pride in keeping the muscle toned and his body used to moving easily. He tends to give off that vibe, or so he wants to think, of one at ease with themselves. Even when he's laying around he tends to sprawl out and dare anyone to say something about it, always prepared with a sarcastic remark.
As one may expect from a man taught to fight and hunt for his living, Zephyr is also quite skilled with using things around him. He isn't usually found without at least one or two daggers hidden on his body, and there's always the practically black Garnet that seems permanently attached to his back unless he's flying around him. To top of his appearance, Zephyr tends to wear darker clothes too. They don't bring so much attention to him as vibrant colors would, and even muted things are taken since they too do the job well. More than anything though Zephyr just loves the color black, not because of any depressing tale about how it speaks to his soul, but just because it's uniform and crisp, and because it reminds him of night and happier times...okay, so maybe it is a tiny bit of a depressing reason.
Personality:
Does he care yet.....
Nope.
What about now?!?
Still no.
Well he's a little piece of jerk isn't he?
No, totally not. -straight face-
Really?!?! -hopeful-
Yea....no, just no. He doesn't give two sharding flips.
-sadface-
Honestly, when it comes down to it Zephyr is a jerk. Not a bit, not kind of, he just is and he knows it. To be perfectly clear...he doesn't care he's a jerk. He doesn't care if he's being inconsiderate, if he's manipulative or anything. All that matters is what he wants, well...almost, but that can wait because right now we're talking about how much of a jerk he is. Zephyr is out for himself. He only trusts himself, only listens to himself, and only follows his own rules, if he even does that. Oh, and he does actually have a set of rules he follows. Don't get too close to anyone. Don't involve anyone but yourself. Cut off loose ends. You know, the normal "secret agent" sort of ideology, except you know, he's not one.
He's quite meticulous as well, calculating everything he does carefully before acting. It can come off as being cold and aloof, and to be honest this is what Zephyr wants. Being warm and friendly isn't the first go to plan in his book. In fact, it's so far removed from his book that he has to borrow it from another library....and then translate it because he has no idea how to even begin getting close to someone. Socially he's not exactly awkward, he just doesn't care for others and so stays in the back of the room. The only people that he gets "close" to are those that are the sort to fight by his side in a scuffle or drink the night away at the tavern. They're not so much companions as people he tolerates.
As for relationships? Zephyr just plain doesn't get them. He wants freedom, and being tied down to some pretty little girl or cute boy isn't going to get him that. Now, a night or two is a different story though and Zephyr isn't one to pass up on some fun rolling in the furs if he can help it. Honestly though, the main reason he doesn't try relationships goes beyond the freedom issue, he just doesn't want to bring anyone into his messed up life. He thinks he doesn't deserve someone after the things he's done, and to the idea of getting that close to someone and possibly needing them terrifies him.
He's a warrior, a hunter, a predator. The only feelings he wants to know are those of hatred, violence, and desire. Zephyr doesn't hold much stock in fairy tales, and wishing that something will happen or hoping that he'll have a happy ending isn't on his list of things to do. The man knows he'll either die on his feet or happily sleeping in bed, either way he goes out with a certain tainted honor. Honor. It's another thing that Zephyr likes to twist around to benifit his life. There is no such thing for him, he's too far gone already according to the man, and yet he tries to do some justice in his actions now or at least prove to himself that they are justified. How else could he believe he's not a monster? Well, he does partially believe that too.
What he really can't stand, yes aside from those many things he finds annoying, is whenever someone is truly helpless. Not that "Oh I can't do anything right" sort of helpless, but the terrified, shivering, breakdown sort of helpless. It's not annoying to him then, oh no he's been through it before and he knows just how deep and dark that hole is. So, for the only time in his life, for the only reason, he actually tries to help. The keyword however is tries because frankly Zephyr attempting comfort on another behalf is vaguely amusing and thirty shades of awkward.
Family:
"It doesn't really matter does it? There's only one person I care about anymore that's part of my 'family'."
- Mother- Zerra
- Father- Kypher
- Older sister- Kerra
- Older brother 1- Kyrer
- Older brother 2- Zepar
- Younger sister- Kyrra
Location: Rebellion
Rank: Wingrider
Wing/Pack:
History:
"You want me to tell you a happy story, with a shardin' happy family, and a happy little ending? Well, that's not going to happen."
Falling in the black
To start off this not so happy, and not so short tale, we have to go North far into the Northern Continent into a world of almost perpetual snow and ice. Up near High Reaches, and yet you'll need to keep going further because Zephyr is no weyrbrat, there lays two small Minor Holds. Zephyr would never tell you what their names are, he doesn't enjoy talking about his past at all let alone giving specifics. However, that's where he was born, the third son of a fairly older couple. He was a child in a line of five, two girls and three boys, and even from the beginning things were not all happy-happy joy-joy for the babe.
Not to be a downer, though honestly if you're wanting a happy story you shouldn't come here for it, Zephyr had to work hard. His father was crippled from an accident a few turns before he was born, and because of the harsh conditions for living that far North no one was really safe from having to pitch in some way or another. His sisters helped cook and clean and mend clothes, his brothers and he went off to hunt and work around the Hold patching up broken fences and learning simple skills. They learned to be self-sufficient he supposed, and Zephyr thanks his childhood for this alone. Even within his family things weren't perfect. The cold brought in sickness often and having older parents meant they were not the strong, healthy young folk that tended to survive such things. By the time Zephyr was 12 his mother had succumbed to the sickness and his father was no better off than he had been at the young boy's birth.
So, what is a boy and his brothers to do at that age? Surely not go into a craft or try and get whisked away by riders to become a candidate, no those things involved leaving the small hold and thus leaving his family. The five children banded together taking care of their father as best they could, but even he went a turn later. It was just them then, and the three boys vowed to take care of their sisters and not allow them to fall to become drudges within their home, or worse mistresses for the Lord Holder to use.
Slipping through the cracks
As I said there were two holds up here in these snowy wastelands, and they weren't exactly friendly except for whenever they needed trade. Often the two would get into arguments, and passing from one to the other was not only hard because of the landscape, but also was dangerous because you never knew what sort of greeting you would get. What both Lord Holders did love though was pitting their guard against one another to see who the stronger and fitter Hold was. The boys were "drafted" into these games at their will, wanting the money that was given for both protecting the Hold and securing that month's winning. They had known how to hunt, now they learned to fight.
Falling to the depths, can I ever go back
It was more than that though, before Zephyr new it he was fighting not only the other Hold's guards, but his brother's as well. The young man was becoming increasingly withdrawn and secluded from his family, snapping at his sisters and starting fights with his brothers. Sick of it one day, the younger sister told him to leave and he did. Little by little Zephyr began to collect work for himself in the larger Holds, doing "chores" for them by dealing with unwilling craters or making sure that the terrible technology that was starting to pop up was suppressed to whatever extent he was told to. Zephyr had become a hired hand, sometimes even a body guard for traveling Lords. It paid well, he had fun in a twisted sort of sense, and then the inevitable happened...he actually killed someone who innocently got in the way and he ran the other way without looking back.
Dreaming of the way it used to be
Angry and confused, the man hid out for a turn in the forests near High Reaches, only talking to the occasional sweeprider that took refuge in his home or the traders that would come through the forest. He even received a firelizard egg that hatched into a feisty garnet he named Nightmare. The flit helped his need for companionship, because even Zephyr couldn't stand going months without anyone to talk to or see. One day, one of the sweepriders asked him to go the Weyr to see the hatching, just to get out of his little hole in the forest and meeting people, hoping that Zephyr would rejoin society.
The man never expected that a blue born without its front legs would come up to the stands and keen until he finally jumped down and walked over to it. You were hiding from my Zephyr! The young man hated having to stay in the Weyr after that, he even refused to elide his name as a statement that he was not like the rest of them, but he grew to become at least somewhat accustomed to it. Eventually though curiosity won over and the man decided to return home after turns of having been gone, waiting till Rizzoth and he had graduated from weyrlinghood. When he arrived it should have been expected, and yet what he found shook him to the core.
One brother had died and the other had become a drunkard who still fought for the petty Lords they used to be controlled by. Instead of trying to turn the older man around though, Zephyr left him, sickened by the state and unable to help his sibling cope. He attempted to find his two sisters next, and the older was not hard to get a hold of. She had stooped as low, or at least in his mind, to become the Lord's mistress. The younger sister found Zephyr that night he had arrived. Somehow she had only become a drudge and was still sane where the other two had lost themselves. Not wanting to risk losing the last member of his family, Zephyr took his sister and headed south toward the rebellion where he had heard people were able to start anew without worrying what others would ask. After all, though he may have ridden a blue it was no less common than any of the other "mutations" as the world saw them, and he never was one for Weyrlife anyway.
Can you hear me?
To be continued through rp......
Falling in the black
To start off this not so happy, and not so short tale, we have to go North far into the Northern Continent into a world of almost perpetual snow and ice. Up near High Reaches, and yet you'll need to keep going further because Zephyr is no weyrbrat, there lays two small Minor Holds. Zephyr would never tell you what their names are, he doesn't enjoy talking about his past at all let alone giving specifics. However, that's where he was born, the third son of a fairly older couple. He was a child in a line of five, two girls and three boys, and even from the beginning things were not all happy-happy joy-joy for the babe.
Not to be a downer, though honestly if you're wanting a happy story you shouldn't come here for it, Zephyr had to work hard. His father was crippled from an accident a few turns before he was born, and because of the harsh conditions for living that far North no one was really safe from having to pitch in some way or another. His sisters helped cook and clean and mend clothes, his brothers and he went off to hunt and work around the Hold patching up broken fences and learning simple skills. They learned to be self-sufficient he supposed, and Zephyr thanks his childhood for this alone. Even within his family things weren't perfect. The cold brought in sickness often and having older parents meant they were not the strong, healthy young folk that tended to survive such things. By the time Zephyr was 12 his mother had succumbed to the sickness and his father was no better off than he had been at the young boy's birth.
So, what is a boy and his brothers to do at that age? Surely not go into a craft or try and get whisked away by riders to become a candidate, no those things involved leaving the small hold and thus leaving his family. The five children banded together taking care of their father as best they could, but even he went a turn later. It was just them then, and the three boys vowed to take care of their sisters and not allow them to fall to become drudges within their home, or worse mistresses for the Lord Holder to use.
Slipping through the cracks
As I said there were two holds up here in these snowy wastelands, and they weren't exactly friendly except for whenever they needed trade. Often the two would get into arguments, and passing from one to the other was not only hard because of the landscape, but also was dangerous because you never knew what sort of greeting you would get. What both Lord Holders did love though was pitting their guard against one another to see who the stronger and fitter Hold was. The boys were "drafted" into these games at their will, wanting the money that was given for both protecting the Hold and securing that month's winning. They had known how to hunt, now they learned to fight.
Falling to the depths, can I ever go back
It was more than that though, before Zephyr new it he was fighting not only the other Hold's guards, but his brother's as well. The young man was becoming increasingly withdrawn and secluded from his family, snapping at his sisters and starting fights with his brothers. Sick of it one day, the younger sister told him to leave and he did. Little by little Zephyr began to collect work for himself in the larger Holds, doing "chores" for them by dealing with unwilling craters or making sure that the terrible technology that was starting to pop up was suppressed to whatever extent he was told to. Zephyr had become a hired hand, sometimes even a body guard for traveling Lords. It paid well, he had fun in a twisted sort of sense, and then the inevitable happened...he actually killed someone who innocently got in the way and he ran the other way without looking back.
Dreaming of the way it used to be
Angry and confused, the man hid out for a turn in the forests near High Reaches, only talking to the occasional sweeprider that took refuge in his home or the traders that would come through the forest. He even received a firelizard egg that hatched into a feisty garnet he named Nightmare. The flit helped his need for companionship, because even Zephyr couldn't stand going months without anyone to talk to or see. One day, one of the sweepriders asked him to go the Weyr to see the hatching, just to get out of his little hole in the forest and meeting people, hoping that Zephyr would rejoin society.
The man never expected that a blue born without its front legs would come up to the stands and keen until he finally jumped down and walked over to it. You were hiding from my Zephyr! The young man hated having to stay in the Weyr after that, he even refused to elide his name as a statement that he was not like the rest of them, but he grew to become at least somewhat accustomed to it. Eventually though curiosity won over and the man decided to return home after turns of having been gone, waiting till Rizzoth and he had graduated from weyrlinghood. When he arrived it should have been expected, and yet what he found shook him to the core.
One brother had died and the other had become a drunkard who still fought for the petty Lords they used to be controlled by. Instead of trying to turn the older man around though, Zephyr left him, sickened by the state and unable to help his sibling cope. He attempted to find his two sisters next, and the older was not hard to get a hold of. She had stooped as low, or at least in his mind, to become the Lord's mistress. The younger sister found Zephyr that night he had arrived. Somehow she had only become a drudge and was still sane where the other two had lost themselves. Not wanting to risk losing the last member of his family, Zephyr took his sister and headed south toward the rebellion where he had heard people were able to start anew without worrying what others would ask. After all, though he may have ridden a blue it was no less common than any of the other "mutations" as the world saw them, and he never was one for Weyrlife anyway.
Can you hear me?
To be continued through rp......
RIZZOTH
Name: Rizzoth
Pronunciation: r-E-soth
Age: 3 turns
Rank: Blue
Size: 27 feet
Color Codes: 42C0FB
Mutation: Has no front legs, longer/stronger wings than average.
Appearance:
The first thing that someone will notice about Rizzoth of course is his lack of front legs. In their place there is no mark, just simply smooth hide over a well-defined chest and shoulders that lead into wings that are larger than the average blue's. In fact, they're almost double the size they should be to make up for it, and they are formed so that he can "walk" using them as well. His neck is graceful and elongated, his tail the same so that it adds a counterbalance for him to keep up with.
Coloring wise, the blue is striking as well, or least likes to think of himself as such, with a sky blue hide that has various shades swirled into it. A pewter hue coats the underside of his wings, marks his hide in some places, and covers his tail and one of his feet. Likewise, sapphire blue takes over the topside of his wings, the other foot and marks his hide as well.
Personality:
Rizzoth is a pleasant fellow, but that doesn't mean he doesn't have a bad side. Zephyr seems to have worn off in some way because of that, and he can be aggressive if his rider brings it out in him. Most of the time though the blue is quite pleasant to be around, preferring to play the pacifist in the trio since Nightmare is aptly named and seems to have enough aggression for them all.
He is fairly gentle-hearted as well, especially with young dragons or any female dragon, and will always have an eye on them in any given situation to make sure no harm comes to anyone. He doesn't like leading groups either, though he could if he's forced to, but generally Rizzoth just is a concerned fellow that is happy to take orders.
Mind-Voice (If applicable):
.....Mine, what are you doing?
- Gentle, soft
- Doesn't often show emotion in the voice, tends to sound somewhat sad
NIGHTMARE
IMG HERE
Name: Nightmare
Pronunciation: ---
Age: 1 turn
Type: Firelizard
Rank: Garnet
Size: 28 inches
Color Codes: 240202
Appearance/Personality:
Zephyr's flit is aptly named Nightmare for a reason, he's practically black. Of course he got his name for more than just that, but it's the easiest reason to explain off the bat. His hide is more than just a dark shade of garnet though, it literally has that silky dark sheen of black ribbon. Except, where the light hits it a distinctly scarlet shade reveals itself. Besides this he has three incomplete rings that hook around her neck as markings with the open end against the front of her throat. They are a much lighter crimson hue and contrast greatly with his hide. The same marking is at the end of his tail, again in the same hue and the same number of three rings. The only other marking his has is the crimson color lining the bottom of his eyes and dripping down around his muzzle, and appearing on his toes as if he stepped in paint.
Build wise, Nightmare is long and lithe. He's not small for his color, he's about medium actually, but he can seem small because most of that is tail and neck. The garnet is graceful in his proportions, or so he likes to think, and his wings are likewise long and angled into sharp points and thin bone-structure. Generally though he seems more like a spider more than anything else because he loves to attach himself to Zephyr's back and fold in his wings, his head resting against the top of his spine or his shoulder and his long tail wrapped around his waist possessively. When he's not claiming His as his personal throne, Nightmare often can be found curled up basking in some place warm since he hates being cold....or he's just snuggled under bunches of blankets for the same reason.
----
This flit is loud. Not just an in your face, trumpeting for the fun of it, but shrieking sort of loud. He doesn't hardly ever make a sound other than vocalizations, not even when he flies which is something he takes great pride in. Even when he moves it is quickly and without much fuss, and that's when he moves. Generally he just stays in one place for a long time and occasionally glides to another new one.
When you upset the little prince though, you get a raging monster. There are many ways you could piss the flit off; getting too close to His, not getting out of his way when he tells you too, not giving him your half of the meatroll along with his half that he automatically presumes will come his way...you get the point, if he's not pleased you'll know about it. Most people put flits that are like this in muzzles, Zephyr just loves to laugh his butt off whenever it happens and watch. That combination of eerie silence broken only by anger which happens often, and brewing hostility that is constantly below the surface is quite the time bomb though because you literally have no idea when or why he may go off.
The ONLY one he will not go off on is Zephyr. Hi adores His and cherishes him with everything he is, which yes means he sits idly on his back all day long and makes sure no one else touches him. He has a funny way of showing he likes something, namely doing nothing to it or sinking his fangs into it, Nightmare tends to do both to his boy. He will never hurt him, but a little love bite here and there doesn't do any harm really...okay, so it tends to leave Zephyr bleeding and cursing and gets Nightmare onto a rampage but such is life with them.
