Post by darkaire on Sept 22, 2006 12:53:52 GMT -5
Email: foxtrot387@aol.com
Character
Name: Z'tev
Rank: Wingrider
Gender: Male
Age: 33
Origin: Ista Hold
Appearance: Z'tev is average height for a male, coming to about 5'10. He's just tall enough to be able to see over most anyone he pleases, or meeting eyes with some of the taller men. Speaking of, his eyes are black. Not blue-black. Not deep black. Just black. Flat black, if you must have an adjective. His eyes are shallow, and rarely come alive except to spark in anger or the life. He's let his hair grow out, to the point where it touches the chin, circling his head in a semi-straight line. He often leaves it ungroomed, so it varies day-to-day on how it appears. The one thing that remains consistent with his hair is the color- a darker shade of chestnut. Neither his dark eyes nor his dark hair can help his fair skin. Even if he tried, he could not tan, and is forced to look pallid all his life.
Family: Mirond (father) Hirish (mother) Ranurc (brother)
Sexual Orientation: Hetero.
Personality: Z'tev is a teenager at heart. The end. According to him, he knows everything one should know about anything. It is obvious he thinks very highly of himself, taking so much pride in his attitde that it's positively -sinful.- As such, he tends to be aloof, and anyone who fails to meet his standards is instantly mocked - though to his credit they are not mocked aloud. It is rare for him to say or think something entirely positive. He is rather unemotional except to become angered, indignant or the like. Is there anything decent about this rider, you ask? No, no there's not.
Well, that's not entirely true; everyone has their good points. If a person manages to win him over or meet his expectations, he would do anything for that person. As long as it doesn't mean degrading himself or death. Also, he keeps his word. ALWAYS. He won't promise on everything, but once he does, the promise is fulfilled almost instantly. I wish I could say Z'tev was really good inside, but no, he's not. But he's not evil, either. He's just rebellious; in a year or three, he'll calm down. Maybe. He does like to go around picking fights, but he might first try to annoy the person who he detests. If he thinks a person wants an answer, he won't give it. But if they really don't want to be talking to him, he'll chat up a storm. Recently, though, he's been in a decent mood, which results in frank, honest answers. Once he slips into a bad mood, though, he's all glares and silence. While he may seem like he knows what he's doing at times, he doesn't. He won't let himself feel unsure, but ask him why he's doing something and he won't know how to answer.
Hobbies/Skills: He's a professional at making people feel bad about themselves, and has an uncanny ability to get into more fights than previously thought possible.
Pets: None
History: He was brought up to believe he was the best, so he thinks that way. His parents never told him 'no', never disciplined him. He was allowed to do as he wanted, and if he did something wrong, he was not scolded. He learned at a young age to manipulate his parents; he never respected them enough to call them 'Father' or 'Mother' because they were too weak. He called them by their first names: Mirond and Hirish. Z'tev never got involved in what his family did, so he couldn't tell you how they got their earnings. There was only one other child, and that was Ranurc, this younger, harder working brother. Ranurc never really got much attention from his parents, so he worked hard to get them to notice him. Z'tev despised him for this - it was obvious Ranurc would never be as love as he, so why did he try so hard? He actually got bored with his life, so he took some money and began to journey, living off the kindness of strangers. You'd think he would have learned something from them. Eventually he tired, and returned home to jubilent parents. No matter what he did, the loved him most. His mother became pregnant, but died in childbirth. The child was given to another family to raise. Before she died, Hirish told an uncaring Z'tev that she's always wanted to see him riding a dragon. Without being prompted, he went as quickly as he could to Ponaa. He wouldn't let ihmself dwell on the subject much, because if he did, he'd find out he cared for Hirish enough to change his life and fulfill her dreams for him.
He lived in Ista Weyr a few Turns before he was allowed to stand for a Hatching. In the Turns between, he had made few friends, which was fine by him. He wasn't fond of anyone there and kept mostly to himself. He kept his sanity by making it a game to skip chores, play pranks or become the best fighter. He never really settled down to Weyr life until his fourth try on the Sands. He was 17 when he stood, and he was used to the procedures already. Standing outside the eager throng of first-time standers, he let his attention drift. It wasn't until he heard a scream of pain that he became aware of what was happening. An over-zealous Candidate had stepped in front of a dragonet. Stupid, stupid. He shook his head and hurried over, used to these things happening. Grabbing the boy, he pushed him out of the way before he could be hurt worse. He received a claw in the thigh for his efforts, and he felt himself snap. Whirling on the dragonet, he placed hands on either side of its head and glared dangerously. How dare you think to hurt me, he hadn't noticed he wasn't speaking aloud, as his mind was far from anything other than the pain in his leg.
So he was surprised when the little brown sat down and started making aweful sounds. The teenager had hissed at the dragon, cuffing him lightly on the nose. Stop your wailing and just pick someone. You're annoying me. The brown did as was instructed, giving the boy a sharp look. Take it back, Z'tev. Take it back, then feed me. Boy and dragon stared at each other, neither quite believing that they were stuck with each other, though the dragonet was a little more sure than the new rider. With a huff, Z'tev led the dragonet out to be fed, muttering the traditional words as he did so. "His name is Mettith...the brat."
The following Turns in the Weyr found him undergoing many changes. He had to play nice to people he would have rather not have, and do things he would have refused to do before. The struggle to remain true to himself and do his duty got to be too much for him, so he transferred to Ponaa Weyr. He found it quite to his liking and has relapsed into his preferred mood, and has already started a name for himself as an irritable rider.
Dragon
Name: Mettith
Age: 16 Turns
Color: Brown
Sire/ Dam: Gold Aerilith by Bronze Korath
Weyr Impressed at: Ista Weyr
Appearance: Mettith is a medium brown, though he prefers to think of himself as larger than that. In reality, his wingspan is long enough for a large brown, but his build is not. He is all angles, giving him a gaunt look although he keeps himself fed reguarly. His hide is a dark brown, flat and even. There is no hint of another color, except around his ridges where the hide lightens. He is not delicate by any means, and is borderline stocky for a dragon. This can be attributed to muscle...or his penchant for eating.
Personality: The brown is as prideful as his rider. Z'tev would say his dragon is more aggresive than he is, and sulks far too often. He knows he's right 95% of the time, and would never admit to being wrong for that 5%. thingyy and arrogant, he feels that he does not need to woo greens to him. They should come to him. He is calmer than his rider in action, but not thought.
History: As a Weyrling he strove to be the best of his class, just for the recognition. However, he was continually surpassed by a green, which made him crazy. Eventually, as they graduated, it was no longer about being the best, it became about showing her up. He may have once or twice, but never as much as he would have liked. The green transferred, and he became listless. With nothing to work towards, he began to pester his rider.
He has never been good at keeping his rider's emotions under control - in fact, he only strengthens them. He could tell it wasn't helping Z'tev any to have an antsy dragon pestering him all the time, and felt a little bad. So he told him he ought to transfer. He didn't have to ask twice. Now that he is at the same Weyr as the green from his class, he is sure to start causing trouble.
Wing Flown With: Alpha
Character
Name: Z'tev
Rank: Wingrider
Gender: Male
Age: 33
Origin: Ista Hold
Appearance: Z'tev is average height for a male, coming to about 5'10. He's just tall enough to be able to see over most anyone he pleases, or meeting eyes with some of the taller men. Speaking of, his eyes are black. Not blue-black. Not deep black. Just black. Flat black, if you must have an adjective. His eyes are shallow, and rarely come alive except to spark in anger or the life. He's let his hair grow out, to the point where it touches the chin, circling his head in a semi-straight line. He often leaves it ungroomed, so it varies day-to-day on how it appears. The one thing that remains consistent with his hair is the color- a darker shade of chestnut. Neither his dark eyes nor his dark hair can help his fair skin. Even if he tried, he could not tan, and is forced to look pallid all his life.
Family: Mirond (father) Hirish (mother) Ranurc (brother)
Sexual Orientation: Hetero.
Personality: Z'tev is a teenager at heart. The end. According to him, he knows everything one should know about anything. It is obvious he thinks very highly of himself, taking so much pride in his attitde that it's positively -sinful.- As such, he tends to be aloof, and anyone who fails to meet his standards is instantly mocked - though to his credit they are not mocked aloud. It is rare for him to say or think something entirely positive. He is rather unemotional except to become angered, indignant or the like. Is there anything decent about this rider, you ask? No, no there's not.
Well, that's not entirely true; everyone has their good points. If a person manages to win him over or meet his expectations, he would do anything for that person. As long as it doesn't mean degrading himself or death. Also, he keeps his word. ALWAYS. He won't promise on everything, but once he does, the promise is fulfilled almost instantly. I wish I could say Z'tev was really good inside, but no, he's not. But he's not evil, either. He's just rebellious; in a year or three, he'll calm down. Maybe. He does like to go around picking fights, but he might first try to annoy the person who he detests. If he thinks a person wants an answer, he won't give it. But if they really don't want to be talking to him, he'll chat up a storm. Recently, though, he's been in a decent mood, which results in frank, honest answers. Once he slips into a bad mood, though, he's all glares and silence. While he may seem like he knows what he's doing at times, he doesn't. He won't let himself feel unsure, but ask him why he's doing something and he won't know how to answer.
Hobbies/Skills: He's a professional at making people feel bad about themselves, and has an uncanny ability to get into more fights than previously thought possible.
Pets: None
History: He was brought up to believe he was the best, so he thinks that way. His parents never told him 'no', never disciplined him. He was allowed to do as he wanted, and if he did something wrong, he was not scolded. He learned at a young age to manipulate his parents; he never respected them enough to call them 'Father' or 'Mother' because they were too weak. He called them by their first names: Mirond and Hirish. Z'tev never got involved in what his family did, so he couldn't tell you how they got their earnings. There was only one other child, and that was Ranurc, this younger, harder working brother. Ranurc never really got much attention from his parents, so he worked hard to get them to notice him. Z'tev despised him for this - it was obvious Ranurc would never be as love as he, so why did he try so hard? He actually got bored with his life, so he took some money and began to journey, living off the kindness of strangers. You'd think he would have learned something from them. Eventually he tired, and returned home to jubilent parents. No matter what he did, the loved him most. His mother became pregnant, but died in childbirth. The child was given to another family to raise. Before she died, Hirish told an uncaring Z'tev that she's always wanted to see him riding a dragon. Without being prompted, he went as quickly as he could to Ponaa. He wouldn't let ihmself dwell on the subject much, because if he did, he'd find out he cared for Hirish enough to change his life and fulfill her dreams for him.
He lived in Ista Weyr a few Turns before he was allowed to stand for a Hatching. In the Turns between, he had made few friends, which was fine by him. He wasn't fond of anyone there and kept mostly to himself. He kept his sanity by making it a game to skip chores, play pranks or become the best fighter. He never really settled down to Weyr life until his fourth try on the Sands. He was 17 when he stood, and he was used to the procedures already. Standing outside the eager throng of first-time standers, he let his attention drift. It wasn't until he heard a scream of pain that he became aware of what was happening. An over-zealous Candidate had stepped in front of a dragonet. Stupid, stupid. He shook his head and hurried over, used to these things happening. Grabbing the boy, he pushed him out of the way before he could be hurt worse. He received a claw in the thigh for his efforts, and he felt himself snap. Whirling on the dragonet, he placed hands on either side of its head and glared dangerously. How dare you think to hurt me, he hadn't noticed he wasn't speaking aloud, as his mind was far from anything other than the pain in his leg.
So he was surprised when the little brown sat down and started making aweful sounds. The teenager had hissed at the dragon, cuffing him lightly on the nose. Stop your wailing and just pick someone. You're annoying me. The brown did as was instructed, giving the boy a sharp look. Take it back, Z'tev. Take it back, then feed me. Boy and dragon stared at each other, neither quite believing that they were stuck with each other, though the dragonet was a little more sure than the new rider. With a huff, Z'tev led the dragonet out to be fed, muttering the traditional words as he did so. "His name is Mettith...the brat."
The following Turns in the Weyr found him undergoing many changes. He had to play nice to people he would have rather not have, and do things he would have refused to do before. The struggle to remain true to himself and do his duty got to be too much for him, so he transferred to Ponaa Weyr. He found it quite to his liking and has relapsed into his preferred mood, and has already started a name for himself as an irritable rider.
Dragon
Name: Mettith
Age: 16 Turns
Color: Brown
Sire/ Dam: Gold Aerilith by Bronze Korath
Weyr Impressed at: Ista Weyr
Appearance: Mettith is a medium brown, though he prefers to think of himself as larger than that. In reality, his wingspan is long enough for a large brown, but his build is not. He is all angles, giving him a gaunt look although he keeps himself fed reguarly. His hide is a dark brown, flat and even. There is no hint of another color, except around his ridges where the hide lightens. He is not delicate by any means, and is borderline stocky for a dragon. This can be attributed to muscle...or his penchant for eating.
Personality: The brown is as prideful as his rider. Z'tev would say his dragon is more aggresive than he is, and sulks far too often. He knows he's right 95% of the time, and would never admit to being wrong for that 5%. thingyy and arrogant, he feels that he does not need to woo greens to him. They should come to him. He is calmer than his rider in action, but not thought.
History: As a Weyrling he strove to be the best of his class, just for the recognition. However, he was continually surpassed by a green, which made him crazy. Eventually, as they graduated, it was no longer about being the best, it became about showing her up. He may have once or twice, but never as much as he would have liked. The green transferred, and he became listless. With nothing to work towards, he began to pester his rider.
He has never been good at keeping his rider's emotions under control - in fact, he only strengthens them. He could tell it wasn't helping Z'tev any to have an antsy dragon pestering him all the time, and felt a little bad. So he told him he ought to transfer. He didn't have to ask twice. Now that he is at the same Weyr as the green from his class, he is sure to start causing trouble.
Wing Flown With: Alpha
