Shouriko's S-Charries

[shouriko]

Pending


Approved
D'von, Apprentice Herder and Brownrider Weyrling
F'kir, Bronzerider Weyrling

Deceased

[shouriko]

Status:Approved

Secret Word: Common Sense

Name: D'von (formerly Daevon)
Rank: Apprentice Herder, Weyrling Brownrider
Age: 20
Gender: Male
Sexual Preference: Heterosexual
Continent: Southern

Give Us A Portrait
-Five Sentences equal One Paragraph-
Appearance:
Daevon is a tall 6’ 8” in standing with wide shoulders and lanky, but muscular build. He stands straight and tall most of the time, but don’t be surprised to see him slouched leaning against a tree or fence rail with his hands in his pockets. He is tanned bronze in complexion and has sandy brown-blonde hair that as a slight wave to it but for the most part is straight. It is long enough for him to tie it back in a short ponytail at the top of his neck. His eyes are a bright cerulean blue, sparkling vividly with life. Already his face, particularly along his jawline and chin, are showing the growth of facial hair.
He has a rather roguish look with his plain button-up wool shirt and leather vest over top leather pants and calf-high boots. He is thoroughly a herder and is well able to ride a runner or control a canine with his trade. Daevon usually has a staff with him, a knife attached at his belt, and flint because a man never knows what might happen. His hands are worn, scarred, and thoroughly hardened from callouses over many turns of work and harsh weather.

Personality:
He is a very laid back character. There isn’t much that phases him, at least not when it comes down to herding and farming. He has grown so accustomed to ovine births in early spring with cool mornings and wild feline attacks to the herd that needed fending off. Even the war of the Weyrs and the dragons is everyday life to him. Daevon makes friends easily because of his ease, he is not very talkative, but easily approachable. He likes to laugh and smile, but his very own sense of humor is terrible. His jokes are terrible, lame, and over-used, but because he does not often go to many crowded events or places, no one he knows would tell him so. Daevon is a tad bit sensitive, but he never holds anything against anyone.
Like many in his family, he likes to live according to life’s virtues. Live and let live; defend your friends, family, and herd; be honest and truthful; be loyal and true; do not betray; trust and be trusted. Such things he so very much believes in and wishes to uphold in what he thinks is his simple life. It is a simple life that he leads, and Daevon likes it. Complicated things are easy enough to accept but hard enough to understand. As such, he becomes withdrawn if trouble arises and will sit quietly brooding over it until he becomes comfortable with his new situation.

History:
He was born the second son, second child of three children to the Journeyman Herder Vontrael and his dear wife Daelia. Like most children born into a life of farming and herding, he was preceded by another, his elder brother Dontrel, and it was not long until he was followed after in birth by his sister Odelia when he was only one turn in age. Characteristic of other families both before them and about them, he was helping with the domestic work at five turns of age and by ten turns of age was performing small tasks for his father about the herd home. Their herd was a part of the larger herding community and their herding community was part of the even larger farming community made up of many farmers, they were closely tied to a nearby beastcraft hall and together made a nice agrarian society. As such Daevon has always been helping in manual labor from watching the lambs to harvesting fruits and tubers. Indeed, he did learn his letters and numbers and can do so very well, but his hands were always better at carving figures or guiding ovines. It was a birthright of sorts for him.

After he had taken all the lessons he needed, he did what anyone else from his background would do. He took up the mantle to follow his ancestors, father, and elder brother into the herdcraft. By the time he was fifteen turns he had begun his studies, guided by his brother, already an apprentice, his father being a journeyman, and the local Master Herder. He took to the craft naturally, like a fish to swimming in water. Daevon could easily spend hours walking with the flocks, watching them in the late candlemarks of the day, or mend fences with the older, more experienced herders. This Daevon did, living his quiet life in contentedness even with the fall of thread from above and the far away echoes of dragons at war.

Daevon never thought much on dragonriders. He had seen all but one dragon before in his life and the man had left as quickly as he had come, to take a neighbor’s son to Southern Weyr. Search. That was what it was called. Few people either supported or rejected it outright, the remainder had hardly seen a rider to think on it much. Neither had Daevon, so when the day came that he had been searched, he didn’t say no. Neither did his mother or father protest his search. He was silent, confused about the matter, but packed his few belongings and held tight to his staff all the way from the far away cot hold to the big and bustling Southern Weyr. His first experience was jarring, but he was as always quiet, cool, and calm, remembering to breathe. Others thought him dumb, but he merely smiled at them. They would come to know him later, as would he knowing if his being searched was truly worth the trouble.

Which, incidently, it was. He was among those candidates who had been lucky enough to impress. Seratanth is in many ways just like the recently renamed D'von. Both are loyal and funny without meaning it. They are hardworkers and steady friends, a good companion for anyone out there.

-Parents:
Vontrael, 52, Journeyman Herder and Daelia, 45, wife

-Siblings:
Dontrel, 22, Journeyman Herder
Odaelia, 18, married

-Firelizards: None
-Color:
-Appearance:
-Personality:

V.I.D.
Name: Seratanth
Color: Brown (61380B)
Age: Hatchling

Appearance:

Seratanth is like a pit bull. He is wide across the chest and deep in the heart girth. His feet are large and a great indicator that when he grows up, he will be even larger than he is now. Seratanth's body is compact, but he is a bundle of coiled muscle. He does not need a length of body in order to endure through many candlemarks of exercise. His wings are a little large for him, though, and are currently a bit ungainly for him. He is a deep, dark brown, almost alike in the color of klah with some interesting green striping in various places across his body.

Personality:

Steadfast, true, almost valiant, never complains, firm in his beliefs; Seratanth has all of these traits even at such a young age. He uses his head and thinks things through, but is very brave and unafraid of new things or sudden changes. He is curious, friendly, and unintentionally comedic all on his own. Seratanth still has a lot of growing to do, but it is a promise that his personality will indeed deepen.

History:

Other:

[shouriko]

Status:Accepted

Secret Word: Not anymore.

Name: F'kir (Fakir)
Rank: Weyrling Bronzerider
Age: 15
Gender: Male
Sexual Preference: Heterosexual
Continent: Southern

Give Us A Portrait
-Five Sentences equal One Paragraph-
Appearance:
Even though he is only fourteen turns, Fakir is already showing signs that he is entering manhood. He is currently 5’10” tall, but with a family of typically 6’ tall men, he will easily hit a growth spurt soon and attain that same height. He has medium length jet black hair that hangs over his forehead and ears and curls at the back of his neck. It is wavy with some curl at the end and very silky to the touch. His eyes are a pale gray, almost like dulled silver, ringed in black. They are the kind of eyes that women fall into, but at his age they only make him look as if he is dreaming. His skin is olive-toned and he is more tanned on his arms and face than anywhere else. He has a square jaw, soft mouth, and kind oval-shaped eyes.
Fakir tends to wear tight leather pants, or to some degree tight, with tunics that are loose over his shoulders. He prefers green, blue, and brown as his clothing colors. His boots are high, but vary according to what is affordable. He enjoys wearing gloves, but can never quite explain why.

Personality:
He is a very introverted, internal kind of guy. For Fakir the most important thing to him is his privacy. Being a child of eight leaves little personal time and little personal items. As such anything that is truly his like his thoughts, feelings, and even a small, simple object have great value. He does not open up to others easily and can sometimes be very brusque when speaking with others. He is not aware of their feelings and only after having hurt them does he realize what he is done. He would apologize, but usually it becomes very awkward for him and he ends up saying things all wrong.
Of the things that he does right, he is best at following instructions and working independently. Fakir isn’t accustomed to being close and personal with others and prefers to be by himself when he is able to. He likes to have plans and set objectives to attain along the way. He likes structure and having a good leader, like his father. Don’t think he can’t take the lead, though, because all of his working alone makes him very self-reliant. Fakir has no difficulty in telling others what to do. He has been told what to do most of his life and he is very content to tell others what to do when the opportunity arises. A good son and student, he needs only an outlet.
Quietly brooding, thinking to himself. Fakir is a bit of a loner. He might not get along with others and he has been dubbed the black sheep of his family for distancing himself from the bulk of his siblings, but he longs for true friendship. He does indeed care for others, but in a more protective way. He is aloof, but ever watchful and observant. Fakir is greatly misunderstood to everyone, including himself sometimes, except his father

History:
Fakir was born into an already large family that was only to get bigger because of him and one other sibling. Though half of his family was due to one woman and the other half to his own woman, they were all connected by his strong and caring father. The first wife had four children and died of a terrible fever and six years later the Journeyman Smith remarried for the sake of his children and to fill his own loneliness. Thus he had more children and among them was Fakir. Lucky number seven of eight.
He was not the kind of child to stand out and for the most part he didn’t mind. He had his mother’s love, his father’s guidance, and the sometimes unwelcome company of all his brothers and sisters. It didn’t matter if they were full or just half siblings, they were one family unit. Everyone had their job to do and no matter how old or young you were, you did it. That was something Fakir could always remember. They were a family and you were stuck with them, but you still worked together.
It didn’t take long for him to become the black sheep of the family. He was so quiet and though he did indeed play with his siblings and work together on family chores, he just didn’t interact with them the same. Fakir felt very different from them and in some way it was true. He was one of the few children who actually looked like his father with the black hair and gray eyes. He kept to himself when he had free time because, truth be told, it was very tiring to be a child in a large family and almost nothing could be kept a secret if you told anyone anything at anytime. And a firelizard clutch certainly is not a secret, nor is it special to have your own firelizard. Every single one of them had at least one firelizard as a pet and Fakir was no different. He had his green Ahiru.
No one ever got special consideration from either parent and in that way Fakir took it very hard. It is likely what has led to him being unable to understand himself or the feelings of others because he never admitted to being hurt by it. He never talked about how he felt or what he thought because they were precious things to him and though he trusted his family, he didn’t want to share them. He was different enough as it was. So here he was growing up as a mixed up young man who needed to determine what to do with the rest of his life. Fakir was at a loss of what to do and unwilling to ask he is thinking of just doing what his father does and become a smith.
When Fakir was searched, it made him wonder if perhaps the reason why he felt so out of place was simply because he was. His father encouraged him to go and go he did. Good thing, too. He was not a candidate for long when he impressed Atizmath, the young gangly bronze that everyone thought was hatched half dead. The truth is that Atizmath, like F'kir, as his name was adjusted to his new status, just had a lot of growing to do. Already halfway to adulthood, the young bronze no longer looks shabby. Neither does F'kir, his growth spurt already beginning to the extent that he had to send home his old hand me downs for new, better fitting hand me downs.

-Parents:
Fenrir, 67, Journeyman Smith
Kiera, 52, wife (Fenrir’s second)

-Siblings:
Half-Sister Aurin, 34, wife with two children (daughter Ayla and son Aariyn)
Half-Brother Frau, 31, Journeyman Farmer, married with two children (son Raunt and son Frint)
Half-Brother Aurifen, 29, Journeyman Farmer, married with three children (son Trinau, son Riftau, and daughter Autena)
Half-Sister Frina, 28, wife with child (son Noren)
Sister Fenra, 20, Apprentice Weaver
Brother Kenrir, 17, Apprentice Smith
Brother Renkir, 13

-Firelizards: Ahiru
-Color: Green

-Appearance:
She is a pale spring green in color. Ahiru has a very light little body. She is long and thin, but quite healthy. She can be distinguished from other greens by the little leather tie with a clear glass bead on her right foreleg.

-Personality:
Ahiru is a total scatterbrained airhead of a firelizard. She adores Fakir simply because he takes care of her. She is not very good at messages and can’t remember a single thing if it is not connected to Fakir.

V.I.D.
Name: Atizmath
Color: Bronze (92873C)
Age: Hatchling

Appearance:

It cannot be said that every hatchling is handsome or perfect and this is particularly true for Atizmath. This poor bronze looks next to death when he's sleeping all due to the sharp bone structure, sagging dragonhide, and scrawny appearance he has. Yet for all of this, his movements are light, active, and precise. He has purpose in his movements and has the promise of strength hidden within. Atizmath's hide is a lovely shade of pale bronze with a gray metallic sheen that makes him shine brighter than many other bronzes.

Personality:

First things first, Atizmath is nothing if not immensely mature. He is a very contained individual and though he will express himself, he only does so when it is necessary. He takes risks only when they are well grounded and gets along well enough with others. He is incredibly protective of his rider and does not like to share him, not with other dragons and not even with other people. Above all else, Atizmath is most memorable for his quirky speech pattern in which he speaks almost in riddles. It can be hard to understand at times, but always matter-of-fact.

History:

Other: