Post by Neeq Machine on Jan 24, 2011 23:33:18 GMT -5
Name: Ev'ryn, formerly Evvanelryn
Age: 26
Gender: male
Sexuality: heterosexual
Rank: Vanguard Wingleader; brownrider
Playby: James W. Boone
Appearance: As a teenager, Ev'ryn was gawky, angular, and generally awkward looking. Though still lanky as an adult, he has grown into his six-foot frame, and is solidly built and much more graceful than he ever was when he was younger. He keeps his flaming red curly hair cropped relatively close to his head, and it usually sticks up at odd angles from his restless fingers combing it, an old habit from when he wore his hair long. Oddly enough, given his coloration, Ev'ryn has brown eyes. His face is not the most handsome, but it's not like he's ugly. Ev'ryn has a pleasant-looking face, with a goofy, boyish smile, and slightly coarser features.
Unless he's in Gather finery, Ev'ryn always dresses very practically. He prefers riding clothing - breeches, long-sleeved light shirts, and a leather flight jacket with serviceable boots. Though he doesn't appear to take that much care of his appearance, he does try to look presentable rather than grubby at the very least. When he does get "prettied up" for Feasts and Gathers, he goes all out - usually in greens and silvers, which work with his hair and with his rank knots very well.
Personality: Excitable, flamboyant at times, and all too prone to harebrained schemes, Ev'ryn is not the first person one would picture when thinking of a Wingleader. But underneath his often overwhelming public face is a man who enjoys planning for the future, researching battle tactics, and is deeply committed to preparing his Wing for Threadfighting. His passions run deep, and though it might be tough to catch a glimpse of the inner man through his persona, it is well worth the wait and the time it takes to gain his trust.
Ev'ryn is exceedingly loyal, but very demanding; he will give his all for those he befriends and expects the same. He strives to build a brotherhood among those who fly with him, because when trouble comes, every rider on the Wing is going to have to trust the others to watch their back. He is prone to launching new drills and tactics on people without warning, and to drag people along on adventures -- all in good fun, of course.
Family:
Father: Narynlor, 49. Co-owner of runner-station.
Mother: Evalla, 44. Co-owner of runner-station.
Sister: Loreva, 23. Wed to Jesken.
...Brother-in-Law: Jesken, 27. Farmcrafter.
...Nephew: Jevasko, 4.
...Nephew: Kenoreve, 3.
...Niece: Skalora, 1.
Sister: Nallavyn, 19. Runner.
Sister: Ynevva, 17. Candidate at Igen Weyr; wed to Mis'lien.
...Brother-in-Law: Mis'lien of blue Narseth, 18. Rider at Igen Weyr.
Brother: Lorynvar, 14. Runner.
Background: Ev'ryn's parents were both runners who met each other at runner stations along the traces. Before long, the two were scheduling their runs to meet up at the same place, and fell quite in love. When Evalla's mother - who ran a small runner station near Igen Weyr - decided to retire to the country to live with her farming son, Evalla jumped at the chance to settle down. She and Narynlor were Joined soon after, though Narynlor continued running the traces while Evalla ran the station.
At 18, Evalla had her first child - Evvanelryn, a son. He grew up in the hustle and bustle of a runner station, and learned early on to help out around the house. Runners would tell him tales of far-off lands and bring little trinkets from their journeys as station-gifts, and he got a taste for adventure as a young boy. By the time he was twelve, Ev had shot up like a weed, and his mother sent him off on runs with her blessing. By then she had four more children, and the station had almost doubled in size. Even Ev's father retired from running and turned his attention to working the station with his wife.
Ev loved running the traces, and by fifteen he had completed his first cross-Pern run. He was as awkward-looking and gangly as ever, with a mop of flaming hair he would yank over his eyes when embarrassed, but that didn't stop him from falling in love with a girl who lived halfway across the world, near Ruatha -- a farmer's daughter named Tamrya. She was sixteen, absolutely lovely, and soft-spoken. He could hardly get a word out around her, and she never noticed him more in passing. But that didn't stop a fifteen-Turn-old boy from pining and writing terrible poetry.
On a run back from Ruatha, just as he arrived at a way-station to complete one of his legs of travel, a bluerider blinked out of between into the air above the bustling station, like a creature out of legend. Ev had never even seen a dragon before -- the Igen riders rarely Searched, and never the runner stations. Though some of the runners rolled their eyes and muttered darkly about useless relics overstepping their bounds, the polite (and curious) went out to meet the rider, who turned out to be a woman near as tall as Ev with a brown braid past her waist. She looked like a warrior from songs, and her vivid blue eyes raked over the crowd in eerie conjunction with the movements of the blue dragon.
"You, boy," she called, pointing at Ev. "My blue says he felt you the moment we appeared in the sky. Have any interest in dragonriding?" He stared blankly for a moment while the crowd dispersed around him, now that the dragonrider had made her business known. None of them wanted to go to the Weyr. After some discussion with the rider, and very clear description of his home station, she left him to return to her Weyr -- Benden. He finished his run, and discussed things with his parents. Days later, the bluerider returned, and Ev was ready to go with her.
The Weyr was nothing like what the boy expected. Run-down, with hardly seventy dragons in it, Benden Weyr was small and grubby. The verdant vineyards filled half of the Weyrbowl and virtually all of the outside of the mountain, extending down into cleared fields. The vintners had far more status than the ordinary dragonriders, and many riders trained in the Craft. Benden had always been famous for its wine, and it was how the Weyr supported itself. Even Wanyimneuth's Clutch was grubby - six smallish eggs, scattered in the Sands.
But then, at the Hatching, the most marvelous thing happened - he met Pouriparth. The only brown to Hatch - the only dragon larger than a blue or green - Pouriparth spent the better half of the Hatching getting his bearings, before bounding over to Ev and tackling him to the ground in complete over-exuberance. Ev'ryn still bears faint remains of the scars his dragon gave him that day, but in the moment he felt nothing at all but unbounded love.
The duo excelled at lessons - and rapidly grew bored with them. More than once, they were grounded due to attempting dangerous maneuvers, and then held back as weyrlings for an entire Turn, under the purview of the grumpy greenriding Weyrlingmaster, who was very displeased that she had to continue attempting to train as reckless a pair as Pouriparth and Ev'ryn. Only the desire to be rid of them made her graduate them. Life in the Wings was similarly rough on the brownpair. Wing drills were lazy and few, and their Wingleader was an old drunkard of a bronzerider. Eventually the duo took to practicing far outside of the Weyr bounds, so as not to be reprimanded. As long as they got their work done and were on call for sweeps and transport duty when required, the leadership didn't care what the duo did with their time away from the Weyr. When Ev'ryn went to see the girl who had so captured his imagination as a child, he found her pregnant with the Heir Apparent's bastard child, and a harsher woman than before. Something sweet inside of him curled up then, seeing romance crushed by actuality.
When Ev'ryn about the conclusions of some riders at Ista Weyr - that Thread would return - he did his own research. Everything pointed to the same conclusion they had reached: the Interval was drawing to an end. Thread would come back, and Pern was dreadfully unprepared. A visit to Ista Weyr connected him with the riders who had been so mocked for their conclusions, and soon messages flew along the traces and from dragon to dragon, connecting those few who were convinced of the imminent Pass. When the first meeting was called to discuss plans for convincing Pern, Ev'ryn was there. He remained deeply ingrained with the coalition of riders as they were denied by queen after queen, and when they decided to form another Weyr regardless.
Wickedly gleeful, he participated in the firestone raids and helped to stockpile on the Western Archipelago. He faked his death quite convincingly for the Benden riders - by simply betweening away to the West during lazily undertaken drills, after purposefully flying into the fringes of another dragon's flame. Pouriparth's "death-shriek" was quite dramatic, and though the dragon was a little singed in the hindquarters, he quickly healed.
When Wings were first created for the newly-named Hidden Weyr, Ev'ryn volunteered for - and received - the Wingleader status for the low-flight Wing, Vanguard Wing - the Wing also intended to be capable of fancy flying and skilled maneuvers. Maneuvers, it can be supposed, such as betweening into a Hatching Grounds and absconding with eggs...
Pets: [[None]]
Dragon's Name: Pouriparth
Age: 11
Color: brown
Appearance: Rather than being built solidly, Pouriparth is built on very flexible lines. His body is elegant and sinuous, looking almost feminine, with a dished muzzle and long head-knobs. He is not a giant of a brown, but mid-sized, with somewhat shorter wings than browns generally posses. All of this gives him somewhat lower endurance at high elevations, though he gains an incredible amount of agility for his color.
In coloration, Pouriparth is a deep muddy brown, with chestnut "snowflake" patterns scattered across his hide. The most obvious ones look like dark red freckles, about a palm's size, on his haunches, chest, and wing membranes. His talons are all black, save for two on his right forefoot, where the two outermost are creamy ivory and grow from reddish toes. The overall impression is a spangled one, which is not unlovely, though not particularly gorgeous.
Personality: Pouriparth is energetic and willing to try anything twice. He is quite capable of betweening when his rider is not on him, though of course he requires direction, and he absolutely loves learning new fancy moves. His capability as a flier is a point of much pride for him, and challenging him to agility contests (or claiming you don't think he's that good) is sure to get him in the air and strutting his paces. Unusually for a brown, Pouriparth generally disdains green Flights, since he can fly better than them and they pose little challenge. Golds now - golds he will Chase, though his lack of high-altitude endurance makes that a virtually impossible win. But, see, the challenge!
This brown enjoys teaching almost as much as he loves flying (and being right), and will cheerfully work with young dragons and humans. He has no compunctions about bespeaking people who are not His Own, and often startles people who aren't used to him by responding to their roundabout questions and comments by himself. He does not take getting questioned on his opinions very well, and preens almost as much as a bronze when praise is heaped upon him. All in all, Pouriparth is a rather vain dragon, and extremely extroverted. He is sure to drag all who know him into trouble and fun alike.
Age: 26
Gender: male
Sexuality: heterosexual
Rank: Vanguard Wingleader; brownrider
Playby: James W. Boone
Appearance: As a teenager, Ev'ryn was gawky, angular, and generally awkward looking. Though still lanky as an adult, he has grown into his six-foot frame, and is solidly built and much more graceful than he ever was when he was younger. He keeps his flaming red curly hair cropped relatively close to his head, and it usually sticks up at odd angles from his restless fingers combing it, an old habit from when he wore his hair long. Oddly enough, given his coloration, Ev'ryn has brown eyes. His face is not the most handsome, but it's not like he's ugly. Ev'ryn has a pleasant-looking face, with a goofy, boyish smile, and slightly coarser features.
Unless he's in Gather finery, Ev'ryn always dresses very practically. He prefers riding clothing - breeches, long-sleeved light shirts, and a leather flight jacket with serviceable boots. Though he doesn't appear to take that much care of his appearance, he does try to look presentable rather than grubby at the very least. When he does get "prettied up" for Feasts and Gathers, he goes all out - usually in greens and silvers, which work with his hair and with his rank knots very well.
Personality: Excitable, flamboyant at times, and all too prone to harebrained schemes, Ev'ryn is not the first person one would picture when thinking of a Wingleader. But underneath his often overwhelming public face is a man who enjoys planning for the future, researching battle tactics, and is deeply committed to preparing his Wing for Threadfighting. His passions run deep, and though it might be tough to catch a glimpse of the inner man through his persona, it is well worth the wait and the time it takes to gain his trust.
Ev'ryn is exceedingly loyal, but very demanding; he will give his all for those he befriends and expects the same. He strives to build a brotherhood among those who fly with him, because when trouble comes, every rider on the Wing is going to have to trust the others to watch their back. He is prone to launching new drills and tactics on people without warning, and to drag people along on adventures -- all in good fun, of course.
Family:
Father: Narynlor, 49. Co-owner of runner-station.
Mother: Evalla, 44. Co-owner of runner-station.
Sister: Loreva, 23. Wed to Jesken.
...Brother-in-Law: Jesken, 27. Farmcrafter.
...Nephew: Jevasko, 4.
...Nephew: Kenoreve, 3.
...Niece: Skalora, 1.
Sister: Nallavyn, 19. Runner.
Sister: Ynevva, 17. Candidate at Igen Weyr; wed to Mis'lien.
...Brother-in-Law: Mis'lien of blue Narseth, 18. Rider at Igen Weyr.
Brother: Lorynvar, 14. Runner.
Background: Ev'ryn's parents were both runners who met each other at runner stations along the traces. Before long, the two were scheduling their runs to meet up at the same place, and fell quite in love. When Evalla's mother - who ran a small runner station near Igen Weyr - decided to retire to the country to live with her farming son, Evalla jumped at the chance to settle down. She and Narynlor were Joined soon after, though Narynlor continued running the traces while Evalla ran the station.
At 18, Evalla had her first child - Evvanelryn, a son. He grew up in the hustle and bustle of a runner station, and learned early on to help out around the house. Runners would tell him tales of far-off lands and bring little trinkets from their journeys as station-gifts, and he got a taste for adventure as a young boy. By the time he was twelve, Ev had shot up like a weed, and his mother sent him off on runs with her blessing. By then she had four more children, and the station had almost doubled in size. Even Ev's father retired from running and turned his attention to working the station with his wife.
Ev loved running the traces, and by fifteen he had completed his first cross-Pern run. He was as awkward-looking and gangly as ever, with a mop of flaming hair he would yank over his eyes when embarrassed, but that didn't stop him from falling in love with a girl who lived halfway across the world, near Ruatha -- a farmer's daughter named Tamrya. She was sixteen, absolutely lovely, and soft-spoken. He could hardly get a word out around her, and she never noticed him more in passing. But that didn't stop a fifteen-Turn-old boy from pining and writing terrible poetry.
On a run back from Ruatha, just as he arrived at a way-station to complete one of his legs of travel, a bluerider blinked out of between into the air above the bustling station, like a creature out of legend. Ev had never even seen a dragon before -- the Igen riders rarely Searched, and never the runner stations. Though some of the runners rolled their eyes and muttered darkly about useless relics overstepping their bounds, the polite (and curious) went out to meet the rider, who turned out to be a woman near as tall as Ev with a brown braid past her waist. She looked like a warrior from songs, and her vivid blue eyes raked over the crowd in eerie conjunction with the movements of the blue dragon.
"You, boy," she called, pointing at Ev. "My blue says he felt you the moment we appeared in the sky. Have any interest in dragonriding?" He stared blankly for a moment while the crowd dispersed around him, now that the dragonrider had made her business known. None of them wanted to go to the Weyr. After some discussion with the rider, and very clear description of his home station, she left him to return to her Weyr -- Benden. He finished his run, and discussed things with his parents. Days later, the bluerider returned, and Ev was ready to go with her.
The Weyr was nothing like what the boy expected. Run-down, with hardly seventy dragons in it, Benden Weyr was small and grubby. The verdant vineyards filled half of the Weyrbowl and virtually all of the outside of the mountain, extending down into cleared fields. The vintners had far more status than the ordinary dragonriders, and many riders trained in the Craft. Benden had always been famous for its wine, and it was how the Weyr supported itself. Even Wanyimneuth's Clutch was grubby - six smallish eggs, scattered in the Sands.
But then, at the Hatching, the most marvelous thing happened - he met Pouriparth. The only brown to Hatch - the only dragon larger than a blue or green - Pouriparth spent the better half of the Hatching getting his bearings, before bounding over to Ev and tackling him to the ground in complete over-exuberance. Ev'ryn still bears faint remains of the scars his dragon gave him that day, but in the moment he felt nothing at all but unbounded love.
The duo excelled at lessons - and rapidly grew bored with them. More than once, they were grounded due to attempting dangerous maneuvers, and then held back as weyrlings for an entire Turn, under the purview of the grumpy greenriding Weyrlingmaster, who was very displeased that she had to continue attempting to train as reckless a pair as Pouriparth and Ev'ryn. Only the desire to be rid of them made her graduate them. Life in the Wings was similarly rough on the brownpair. Wing drills were lazy and few, and their Wingleader was an old drunkard of a bronzerider. Eventually the duo took to practicing far outside of the Weyr bounds, so as not to be reprimanded. As long as they got their work done and were on call for sweeps and transport duty when required, the leadership didn't care what the duo did with their time away from the Weyr. When Ev'ryn went to see the girl who had so captured his imagination as a child, he found her pregnant with the Heir Apparent's bastard child, and a harsher woman than before. Something sweet inside of him curled up then, seeing romance crushed by actuality.
When Ev'ryn about the conclusions of some riders at Ista Weyr - that Thread would return - he did his own research. Everything pointed to the same conclusion they had reached: the Interval was drawing to an end. Thread would come back, and Pern was dreadfully unprepared. A visit to Ista Weyr connected him with the riders who had been so mocked for their conclusions, and soon messages flew along the traces and from dragon to dragon, connecting those few who were convinced of the imminent Pass. When the first meeting was called to discuss plans for convincing Pern, Ev'ryn was there. He remained deeply ingrained with the coalition of riders as they were denied by queen after queen, and when they decided to form another Weyr regardless.
Wickedly gleeful, he participated in the firestone raids and helped to stockpile on the Western Archipelago. He faked his death quite convincingly for the Benden riders - by simply betweening away to the West during lazily undertaken drills, after purposefully flying into the fringes of another dragon's flame. Pouriparth's "death-shriek" was quite dramatic, and though the dragon was a little singed in the hindquarters, he quickly healed.
When Wings were first created for the newly-named Hidden Weyr, Ev'ryn volunteered for - and received - the Wingleader status for the low-flight Wing, Vanguard Wing - the Wing also intended to be capable of fancy flying and skilled maneuvers. Maneuvers, it can be supposed, such as betweening into a Hatching Grounds and absconding with eggs...
Pets: [[None]]
Dragon's Name: Pouriparth
Age: 11
Color: brown
Appearance: Rather than being built solidly, Pouriparth is built on very flexible lines. His body is elegant and sinuous, looking almost feminine, with a dished muzzle and long head-knobs. He is not a giant of a brown, but mid-sized, with somewhat shorter wings than browns generally posses. All of this gives him somewhat lower endurance at high elevations, though he gains an incredible amount of agility for his color.
In coloration, Pouriparth is a deep muddy brown, with chestnut "snowflake" patterns scattered across his hide. The most obvious ones look like dark red freckles, about a palm's size, on his haunches, chest, and wing membranes. His talons are all black, save for two on his right forefoot, where the two outermost are creamy ivory and grow from reddish toes. The overall impression is a spangled one, which is not unlovely, though not particularly gorgeous.
Personality: Pouriparth is energetic and willing to try anything twice. He is quite capable of betweening when his rider is not on him, though of course he requires direction, and he absolutely loves learning new fancy moves. His capability as a flier is a point of much pride for him, and challenging him to agility contests (or claiming you don't think he's that good) is sure to get him in the air and strutting his paces. Unusually for a brown, Pouriparth generally disdains green Flights, since he can fly better than them and they pose little challenge. Golds now - golds he will Chase, though his lack of high-altitude endurance makes that a virtually impossible win. But, see, the challenge!
This brown enjoys teaching almost as much as he loves flying (and being right), and will cheerfully work with young dragons and humans. He has no compunctions about bespeaking people who are not His Own, and often startles people who aren't used to him by responding to their roundabout questions and comments by himself. He does not take getting questioned on his opinions very well, and preens almost as much as a bronze when praise is heaped upon him. All in all, Pouriparth is a rather vain dragon, and extremely extroverted. He is sure to drag all who know him into trouble and fun alike.
