Post by Deryn on Mar 13, 2011 20:09:13 GMT -5
Rider Application
Name: V’tuar (Originally Vamintuar)
Age: Thirty-seven turns
Gender: Happily Male
Sexuality:
Bisexual, not leaning either way, really. Although considering he’s seen most of the riders naked because of medical reasons he’s not really someone who even thinks about sex anymore. Not unless someone jumps him, and really, who’s about to do that? Also, he doesn’t like touching people
Rank:
Bluerider, Wingrider, Journeyman II (Almost III) Healer
Appearance:
Standing easily at a decent if not towering, five foot seven inches, V’tuar is not menacing because of his height. This is to say that V’tuar is menacing, but his height does not add to it. No, there are many other reasons for V’tuar to be considered a right terror and for him to be feared, but as V’tuar stands, in his bare feet, about average, or even a bit below, most other men, his height cannot be counted among the reasons that people watch his cautiously. This seems to irk V’tuar some, and it would not be a wise or healthy choice on anyone’s part, to mention his height to him. V’tuar’s a vengeful man and he had been known to hold a grudge over turns and turns, just because he can. In all honestly, though, V’tuar’s not really all that short. He’s a few inches below what many other riders stand at, but that seems to be enough. Of course, V’tuar’s body shape makes him appear a little bit taller as well, so some say that this should balance it out, but V’tuar’s height is noticeable if he’s standing next to or near any other person who’s taller than he is, and it’s this little fact that annoys V’tuar more than anything.
Body shape wise, V’tuar could be describes as trim. Leaning towards a thick stocky build, but not quite there, so that his body ends up with a thick and shorter torso and longer leaner legs, V’tuar keeps himself well and in shape. He is very much aware of the benefits of exercise and thus works out and keeps himself as fit as possible. There might be some issues with him flying Thread if Thread ever returns, if only because his eyesight, which really is atrocious, but otherwise V’tuar will be ready if he is needed. He will certainly have no trouble rising to the occasion if called upon. That isn’t the reason V’tuar keeps himself in good shape, though. The reason V’tuar exercises as compulsively as he does is a much more self-satisfying reason, and has little to do with the well being of Pern. V’tuar keeps himself healthy and in shape more out of vengeful spite than anything else. A sort of “screw you” to all those kids and teenagers who picked on him because of his bad eyesight, his lack of physical strength, or his inability to throw a ball of run when he was younger. Now, of course, V’tuar has made up for those things, but it still rankles him, somewhere deep down in his soul, and he takes great, almost sadistic pleasure in the knowledge that he will probably outlive his past tormentors.
Although many think that V’tuar should be fast moving because of his long legs, the exact opposite is true. V’tuar has great reflexes and would make an exceptional boxer, if such a sport existed on Pern, but any sort of sustained running or quick bursts of sprinting completely take it out of him. It’s always been that way, and V’tuar had major issues and difficulties during weyrlinghood in this department, although he more than makes up for it in the amount of things he can lift, haul, push, and punch. And, of course, he did graduate weyrlinghood with the rest of his class, so he must have figured something out. Now, this isn’t to say V’tuar doesn’t have muscles on his legs, for he does. They just aren’t muscles that are used for running, and if pushed in such a way tend to make V’tuar collapse after a few dragonlengths. Swimming and lifting are things that V’tuar’s muscles could do all day, but for what he needs to accomplish in his daily tasks, V’tuar’s physical abilities are superbly adequate.
Upper body wise, V’tuar makes up for any and all perceived or otherwise inadequacies in his legs. Well put together, V’tuar’s body seems to fit correctly with itself, sliding smoothly from shoulder to torso to legs and feet almost seamlessly, and this fluidity extends to his movements as well. There is a grace to V’tuar that is unconscious and natural, something not many people have. V’tuar is, without a doubt, strong and physically capable, with muscles homed not from exercise, although he does do a lot of it, but true physical labor. This means that V’tuar’s body can actually function in real life, instead of just looking nice. It might appear strange to some that this would be the case, but V’tuar is someone who despises letting other people do work, not because he doesn’t want them to strain themselves, because he advises that they do just that in fact, but because he knows that other people would do whatever he needs them to do wrong and he would just end up doing it himself anyways. As V’tuar doesn’t want to have to waste energy and fix something someone else screwed up, it would just be easier for him to do everything by himself the first time and save a step and precious time. Apart from the fact that this makes V’tuar incredibly grumpy and incredibly busy, it also means that is his working physically as well as mentally a lot of the time.
Graced with a long face and deeper set eyes that are presided over by heavyset brows and rather bushy eyebrows, V’tuar had an impressive and brooding face, to say the least. V’tuar’s a rather handsome man, when his face isn’t contorted into a scowl and he isn’t grumbling about every one else in the entire world, or yelling at someone. So, basically, V’tuar’s an attractive human when asleep, and since most people find his personality far too abrasive to get along with, almost no one had seen that face, even after flights because V’tuar’s used to getting up before anyone else, and so he’s usually gone when his weyrmate wakes up. To most people, then, V’tuar is simply perpetually grumpy, and not many people find grumpy an attractive look. This is all fine by V’tuar, who could care less about who thinks he’s good looking, who’s terrified of him, or who’s angry at him. He’s got Draimaekth, and that all he needs.
Once pale skin, smooth and supple, is now tanned and leathery from exposure to the elements, mostly Rukbat’s rays and the wind, and V’tuar had developed quite strong frown lines around his mouth and eyes. Theses lines also come from general wear and tear and many candlemarks spent in the sun training. The lines are not all that bad, but they certainly make V’tuar appear older than he really is. On first glance, many people would put V’tuar at forty-five or maybe even fifty, not in his late thirties, which gives you a good measure of how much time V’tuar spends outside and how much time he spends frowning rather than smiling. As far as placement and shape, V’tuar has got a quite nice pair of eyes. A steely and piercing silvery grey makes up the majority of color in V’tuar’s eyes, with a little bit of darker blue mixed in there for some depth. Not that the color is instantly noticeable, as they are usually, if not always covered by the heavy glasses that V’tuar has to wear to see. Shaped to be large, but brooding, with the heavy lids and brows already mentioned, V’tuar has a striking gaze. With a sharp and hawk like nose and thin lips placed on a long face, combined with V’tuar’s eyes and perpetual scowl, you end up with a rather scary and daunting appearance. Regal in some ways, but certainly not someone you would approach with a warm hello, V’tuar looks serious. It’s hard to imagine him smiling or laughing, and when he does these things it tends to confuse people because it just doesn’t look right on V’tuar.
Most days V’tuar has time to bath or shower and that is all. That is to say, V’tuar will make sure he has time to bath or shower, because if he is not clean he will have trouble functioning, but other such functions as shaving and brushing his hair are often overlooked in favor for getting more important things done. Like making sure the Weyr hasn’t managed to commit suicide overnight. V’tuar’ll eventually get around to those things, when he has a spare moment, but in the morning he usually looks like a whirlwind hit his head. Thankfully, though, V’tuar keeps his rather thick hair cut short and although he’s always seen with stubble and huge circles under his eyes he can clean up, on occasion somewhat nicely. V’tuar’s hair color, however, is truly stunning, and many people think it a shame that he doesn’t seem to care for it. A beautiful reddish auburn with true copper highlights in the sun, it really is a shame that V’tuar keeps his hair short and doesn’t really care for it, for it could be his crowning glory if he gave a hoot. Which, as stated, he doesn’t.
Personality:
There is much to be said about V’tuar personality wise, but most of it is not positive or radiant. This would be because V’tuar is not really a positive or radiant person. In fact, to the list of things that V’tuar is not, it would be ever so easy to add happy, respectful, kind, and a myriad of other positive personality traits. In fact, there is really only one thing about V’tuar that makes him an acceptable human being, and that is his undying love and devotion to other humans and dragons regardless of background, personal history, looks, gender, or really anything. V’tuar cared deeply for living creatures, a love instilled in him by his mother at an early age, and hates to see them suffer. This is the one and only reason V’tuar became a healer, and it is the one and only reason that V’tuar worked so hard at his chosen craft, despite everything he endured. This devotion is still a driving force in V’tuar’s life, although he has a weird way of expressing it outwardly. Still, it seems that this love is deep enough to hurt V’tuar, and even if he is scored and broken by someone, they past friend, family, or lover, he will help them when they need it, no matter past misdeeds or misgivings. This even applies to V’tuar’s enemies as well, and Faranth knows V’tuar has enough of them to go around. The man makes enemies as if it was a hobby, although when it comes to his strange love of life and his enemies, V’tuar is willing to be a little more brutal in his administrations. It’s more of a grey area for him, and while he will still help them, no questions asked there, he’s going to be a little more lax in the numbweed department. He can’t always be a perfect person, after all.
Actually, V’tuar’s a far cry from a perfect person. In fact, V’tuar’s a very nasty person, difficult to deal with and the word “grumpy” doesn’t even begin to cover it. Obstinate and opinionated, V’tuar is the kind of person that other people try to avoid because they are the raincloud that ruins the happy little picnic. And while V’tuar prefers it that way, he also goes out of his way to annoy other people, which might not seem like a good idea, and indeed, it is not. However, V’tuar is not a man who cares what other people think of him. This wasn’t always the case, of course, but those days have long since gone and V’tuar has hardened into someone who could take the harshest of verbal attacks and just shrug it off. It’s not just the effortless self-confidence that he’s obtained over the turns, but also the fact that he doesn’t care what other people think. Healthy in body is his job, not healthy in mind. This isn’t because V’tuar has any particular reason for making people hate him, because he doesn’t, but rather because it is hard to make people like him, and he doesn’t have the time to put into such an endeavor. Despite this, people trust V’tuar. He is an incredibly reliable and trustworthy person, an exceptional secret keeper, and someone who people will seek out for help. Even if people don’t like V’tuar, they do trust him, and that is far more important, both for V’tuar’s job and for him personally, more important than any warmth that V’tuar would receive, at least. Trust allows V’tuar to get his job done and make sure that people are healthy and don’t need his help, a warm hello does not. As long as people will continue to be truthful and honest with V’tuar he couldn’t care less about anything else.
To put it as simply as possible, V’tuar is a mysophobe, in constant need of redwash and masks to satisfy his own compulsions. However, it is only certain things, which set off his peculiar branch of anxiety and OCD. Touching other people does it, which is understandable given that haptephobia is present in V’tuar as well. The haptephobia is more controllable for V’tuar than the mysophobia is, and both of them are manageable. They are not crippling, for the most part. There are good days and there are bad days, but for the most part, V’tuar’s able to muddle along rather well. There are other things that bug V’tuar besides touching people such as unclean clothing, or being breathed on. Sometimes even his sheets or other such things. On the bad days, it can get pretty intense. There are many more, but V’tuar can suppress his reactions to these things. At least, he can manage to suppress his reactions for a time and his need to bathe and shudder for a time. Although the suppression of these things makes the inevitable reactions all the worse. There are things that V’tuar is alright with. Himself, of course, and Draimaekth. There are a few people as well that V’tuar doesn’t care about, but for the most part, these things bug him. Many people wonder how he manages to practice his craft, and the simple fact is this, although V’tuar is twitchy and neurotic, and a generally strange person, that love of humanity and the pain of seeing humanity hurt overshadows the phobias that V’tuar possesses.
On his worst days, V’tuar finds himself in a state of panic, and usually stays in his room when this happens. It wasn’t always like this, of course. Just like his eyesight wasn’t so bad, V’tuar wasn’t always so incredibly paranoid. Over time V’tuar’s compulsions became stronger, pulled along and aggravated by events in V’tuar’s life. These things are the main reasons that V’tuar abused, and still does abuse, both felis and alcohol. When he was younger, this abuse was much worse, but it has mellowed somewhat as he aged, and although he has mostly sworn off of the stuff he has been known, on occasion, sneak both substances. The draw of the comfort they both hold is sometimes a little too strong, although publically V’tuar condemns both substances. His moods do fluctuate some and he has been known to be both depressive and angry. The one person who is able to snap V’tuar out of it however is Draimaekth, as their bond is incredibly deep and strong, especially for V’tuar.
On top of all of this, V’tuar is a cynical person, loud and outspoken, and unafraid of pissing other people off. He doesn’t care that what he’s saying hurts you, because he usually has a reason for what he does. V’tuar is smart, although perhaps misguided in some areas of his life, and his actions are calculated and precise. Of course, may people overlook this and simply see V’tuar as a grouchy, grumpy, middle aged man who pushes his problems on other people. Of course, this isn’t exactly the case, but as V’tuar has secrets, he feels safest behind the man who finds displeasure with others actions and has OCD tendencies. He is not exactly the most gentle of people, but there is a sort of kindness to V’tuar, even though it’s encased in anger and nervousness and V’tuar. It is hard to explain the complexities of this rider, because while he has the strong will and determination that most riders do, he also has other things that perhaps are not standard or normally found in the riderfolk of Pern.
Family:
Chelliatuar (Mother)
V’mer of Blue Freumath (Father) (Estranged)
Background:
V’tuar’s mother and father were never married. In fact, it’s a wonder that the two of them ever met at all. V’tuar’s father was a rider, a man who had impressed at an early age and had been a weyrbrat before that, while V’tuar’s mother was a holdborn and grown woman, beautiful but shy, eccentric, and dedicated to her chosen craft of healing, and when the two of them did meet, sparks flew. Metaphorically speaking, of course. The pair met during a gather at the hold where Chelliatuar, V’tuar’s mother, practiced and was stationed as a journeywoman. At first, the pair paid little attention to one another, Chelliatuar busy with her healing and plenty of other women to occupy V’mer’s time, but half way through the gather V’mer was injured by hot klah to the stomach and groin, a very serious and perilous condition that needed to be treated right away, and so Chelliatuar was summoned and she came.
During that short time, Chell and V’mer decided to meet later on after Chell had been relieved of her duties. Not much was ever said between the two of them. It was a short-lived romance created by looks and smiles and the gentle touch of a healer’s hand. At the end of it, the two of them went their separate ways and never saw one another again. Except, perhaps small glances across a crowded gather, and even then, only the two of them knew. Of course, nine months later, Chell had a little surprise. Except it wasn’t a surprise, as Chell was quite an exceptional healer, if a bit weird and with certain extravagantly odd tastes, and she certainly knew what to expect when she went into labor. Vamintuar was not what you’d call a beautiful baby when he was born. No baby is beautiful. Babies are sorta ugly when they’re first born, and Vamintuar was no different.
Vamintuar grew up with his mother as his best friend. They did everything together, from basic healing, which Chell taught Vamintuar at an early age, to bathing and playing together, the mother and her son were inseparable. Vamintuar had other friends, of course, but his mother was his favorite person in the whole world. Vamintuar was indeed a huge mother’s boy. While Vamintuar was young, this wasn’t a problem. After all, humans need their parents for quite some time before they are able to act on their own. But as Vamintuar got older, it did become a problem. Not for his mother or for him, but for the other children. Young children can be incredibly evil and vindictive, and that’s what happened with Vamintuar and his peers.
Bullied and sneered at by the older and more vindictive of his peers, and avoided by the others because of the bullying, Vamintuar entered the healer’s hall as an apprentice, but spent most of his free time with his mother, learning the massive amount of things that she had to teach him and feeling loved. Because Vamintuar was loved by his mother. Chell adored her son and doted upon him with attention and time. Never married, the two of them were content to live together. It should be noted that nothing bad has ever happened to Chell, and nothing bad ever will. Chelliatuar was concerned for her son, however, who desperately loved her, but who also wanted friends. There wasn’t much she could do for him, though. Her stepping in would only make things worse, and Vamintuar wasn’t exactly a physically capable child. It wasn’t that he was sickly, because he was quite healthy, but rather that he had a hard time keeping up with the other children. He just couldn’t run, couldn’t punch, couldn’t defend himself. He was a weakling, and remained that way for a while.
Vamintuar remained at healer hall for quite some time, spending his free time either with his mother or studying, without any real friends. Vamintuar’s socialization came from lessons and nasty interactions with his peers. This continued until about Vamintuar’s fourteenth turn, when a rider from Ista came on search. This was perhaps the turning point in Vamintuar’s life because he alone was chosen from the children and apprentices at the healer hall to stand. It was an abysmal turnout for the bluerider and his dragon, but for Vamintuar it was a new life and a new chance. However, things didn’t turn out like Vamintuar had hoped. For one thing, his mother, who was essentially his only friend, was not there, and Vamintuar had never really had the chance to learn how to socialize when he was younger, so he had a hard time adjusting to life at Ista Weyr.
This was when Vamintuar turned to alcohol. He might have been young, but he was also clever, and in many ways this alienated him from the others as well. At the Weyr, Vamintuar continued his training in the healer craft, and it was only because he was able to hide his growing alcoholism that he was able to continue to practice and learn. Of course, Vamintuar also began to exercise, as was proper for a candidate. For the first time in his life, Vamintuar was able to keep up with the others, in some areas at least. Running was still a problem for him, and it would remain so even after he impressed. It took two full turns for this to happen, though, with many failed attempts and more depression. It couldn’t be said that Vamintuar was ever depressed seriously, but standing at hatching after hatching certainly could get anyone down, and Vamintuar was no exception.
Then came that day when Vamintuar was sixteen and the call for a hatching came. As every time before, Vamintuar staggered to the sands a little behind everyone else, and just a little bit drunk, watched as eggs from the rather small hatching, for they were all small, really, cracked open and the dragonets inside roamed around the sands looking for theirs. Vamintuar’s eyesight had never been perfect, but he was able to tell the color of the dragons from the eggs and how they hatched. After all, he was farsighted, not nearsighted, and he was standing at the back of the candidates. He had a clear view of what was going on. Each one hatched differently and that was at least interesting. By this time, Vamintuar had pretty much given up hope of impressing. Then this one tiny little blue came and sat before him. It wasn’t impressive, it wasn’t even the last egg to hatch. The blue had simply cracked its shell and come to sit before him.
Hello. It was a strange sensation for Vamintuar to hear the tinkling sort of voice of his dragon in his head. But it was his dragon. Vamintuar knew that at once. The rainbow of impression still danced in the blue’s eyes, and while he wasn’t a stunning blue, glorious and bright, he was… appropriate, the stormy blue of a rain-washed sky. Pleasant, but not vibrant. I am Draimaekth, but I think you already knew that, V’tuarMine. The little creature paused, tilting his head slightly and shuffling his wings before continuing. And I am very sorry, but I am somewhat hungry. You know… hatching and all that. In a sort of dream or haze, the newly names V’tuar looked over to the hatching stands were his mother, without fail, was watching and clapping happily. She’d never missed a hatching, even if V’tuar had stood at many of them before this one.
Thus the end of Vamintuar’s life, and the start of V’tuar’s life. V’tuar still had problems, of course, but he was able to gain some interaction with his fellow Weyrlings, although many of them still made fun of him for his inability to run and his bad eyesight. Of course, while V’tuar trained as a rider with Draimaekth, he also continued with his healer training, and it was at eighteen turns, right when he graduated from Weyrlinghood, that he became a journeyman. Of course, it was impractical for him to leave the Weyr, but perhaps it would have been better if he had. Seven more turns and V’tuar and Draimaekth were participating in the Spring games. They had participated in the festival before, but not in such a way, and both of them, dragon and rider, were excited for it. As excited as either of them could be, for at twenty five, V’tuar already was pretty set in his ways and much like the V’tuar of the present, and Draimaekth was as hard to excite as ever, but still, the pair were looking forward to their time to shine. It was just a pity that it didn’t turn out that way.
The pair took part in the spring games, but it was certainly a tragic day for them both. Half way through the race the buckles on V’tuar’s harness gave out and he fell and cracked his head on the ground. Although the fall wasn’t far, V’tuar didn’t wake up for a day and when he did, his eyesight was much, much worse. Close objects were now incredibly blurry, and after a few days it seemed that V’tuar’s phobias and compulsions were now worse. Even he couldn’t explain it, but for the first time in his life, V’tuar experienced real depression, as well as pounding headaches, which didn’t seem to be about to subside. So V’tuar took up another vice. Felis, the marvelous and ever so addictive substance, which, it seemed to the stricken and now shamed bluerider, could cure all ills and evils. After all, V’tuar had had all of his pride taken away by the fall. He had been taken from his wing, and even the healer hall had requested that he stop practicing for a while, and so what was there left but Draimaekth, wine, and felis? Not much, it seems, except for scrolls. In these dark days V’tuar spent more time than ever reading. Except now his subject matter extended further than healer scrolls. He would read anything he could get his hands on, and that included old worn scrolls about the old menace of thread and the Red Star.
It was his mother who eventually snapped V’tuar out of his downward spiral, and she, along with Draimaekth, who she had always gotten along with in her strange and eccentric way, got V’tuar back onto his feet and ready to face the world. This wasn’t until three turns after his accident, of course, and by that time V’tuar was not much but a shell of himself. The love his mother had always had for him, however, be he Vamintuar or V’tuar, was still there, and Chell, now a master, sat up those long nights with her son as he tried to battle through the withdrawal and pain. It was not easy and it was not quick, taking another two full turns before V’tuar could pronounce himself clean. It was, however, insightful. Chell was as interested as her son had been in the theories on the red star, and she brought him any and all scrolls she could find and that he requested. When V’tuar was ready to go back to the Weyr, he kept his theories to himself, although he knew several of his kin at Ista had come to the same conclusion as he. That the red star was coming back. Thread would rain again from the heavens soon enough.
V’tuar did, however, learn of the first meeting of those who believed that thread would return. He joined the ranks of those who would start the training maneuvers up again, although V’tuar always held a certain anxiety about such things, which stemmed from his own personal accident and experience. Despite this, however, he and Draimaekth were there to help when needed. Then came the day when V’tuar and Draimaekth had to leave. They had concocted a plan that would incorporate Chell, and was quite simple, in fact. V’tuar, visiting his mother with Draimaekth, would pretend to overdose and his mother would pronounce him dead while Draimaekth betweened to far away to allay suspicion. Then V’tuar would leave while the attention was on Chell, who knew how to make a scene, and Draimaekth, who would still be packed with the pair’s things under the pretense of staying with Chell, would pick up V’tuar some distance away and the pair would be free, while news of the death, or possible suicide, was sent back to Ista. It worked well, and went off without a hitch. Chell, of course, believed everything her son told her, and had agreed to help at once. That was how V’tuar and Draimaekth eventually came to reside at Hidden Weyr.
Pets: None. Dirty little cretins…
Dragon
Name: Draimaekth
Age: Twenty One Turns
Color: Blue
Color Code: 466480
Appearance:
Draimaekth is certainly not a large blue, who certainly does not have a large blue’s build. In fact, Draimaekth is rather small with a sort of short stocky build and a very long neck and tail. What Draimaekth is, however, is muscled. He’s stocky but strong, and although low-slung and with what some would consider chubby little legs, he is quick and can carry quite a bit on his back. While not the most attractive dragon to look at, if going by simple proportions, or in fact, hide color, Draimaekth at least doesn’t look out of place with himself. Draimaekth does have length to him, however, even when his neck is curled back on itself and his head is tucked in, his tail, muscled like a thick tree, sticks out strange and long, a powerful weapon. At least, it would have been a powerful weapon if Draimaekth wasn’t the most polite and gentle of all creatures. The same goes for Draimaekth’s neck, which is corded and powerful. A square boxy head tops Draimaekth’s neck, and the blue’s eyes are larger than one would expect, although his headknobs are normal size and appear smaller because of the comparison between his head and his eyes. Large wide wings allow Draimaekth to fly further than many would expect, and his stamina is above many other blues, although he lacks the grace and maneuverability that many of his brethren have. This doesn’t seem to bother him, though, as he has a special sense for the air, and can fly for quiet some time without moving his wings, using only updrafts and downdrafts that appeared in Pern’s skies. A wide back and deep chest finish up Draimaekth’s appearance, which isn’t perfect, but serves him well. Draimaekth isn’t really bothered by much, and his body certainly isn’t one of them. He’s comfortable in his hide, and loves to fly.
Draimaekth’s hide is not very interesting, being a combination of a dusky dull grayish blue and a slightly darker slightly more vibrant blue that overlays the grayish blue in certain areas. Frankly, Draimaekth’s hide is nothing exciting or riveting to look at, but it is surprisingly fitting and calming. Matte, obviously, and perhaps as boring as boring could be, Draimaekth never has much of a chance to look at his hide, but if he did, he’d be yawning. It’s just a hide that slows people down and while no one will probably ever take a second look at Draimaekth, because his hide makes him blend so well into the background, without any real contrast to it or exciting colors, and Draimaekth simply… fades away. The darker blue forms noticeable markings on Draimaekth’s body, crisp clean markings that honestly aren’t much. Oh his headknobs, the dark blue forms a loop that swoops back on the underside to a little more of half way, where it ends. From the bottom of his chin a medium thickness line runs down to Draimaekth’s chest, where it forms to his muscles and creates a sort of downward pointed arrow that extends almost to his stomach and curls back up over his shoulders. The same sort of swoop that appears on his headknobs appears on his forearms and his tail. And there is a fingerless glove like marking on Draimaekth’s wingpalm. The edge of the first wingsail is edged with the darker blue, and the second has a sliver of it, but the last one doesn’t have any. And that’s about it, for Draimaekth’s hide. It’s not really that exciting.
Personality:
Polite and charming, Draimaekth is the exact opposite of his rider. While V’tuar is nasty, Draimaekth is kind and happy, a sort of blissful creature who drifts through life in a sort of haze. Draimaekth’s an intelligent creature, for a blue, and has the same sort of love for creatures that his rider does. However, Draimaekth is without the compulsion and nastiness that his rider has. Everything is just dandy with Draimaekth, although the blue does stand to worry about things. He’s just a sort of fretter, worrying about little things here and there, which his rider is good a smoothing over. The pair complete each other, and Draimaekth is always quick to intervene when V’tuar’s being an ass, and show his affection with others. A dragon who’s not afraid to play and interact with others, Draimaekth is the only reason V’tuar gets out of his room at all, and the blue can be quite social when it takes him, which is quiet often. He loves the little ones, and adores candidates. After all, he is a blue. To him they glow, and he finds that quite interesting. Not the most intelligent of dragons, just somewhat more intelligent than the average blue, Draimaekth is without pride of vanity, and has no shame in asking, although V’tuar seems to have plenty to go around.
Anything else: Nothing really.
Name: V’tuar (Originally Vamintuar)
Age: Thirty-seven turns
Gender: Happily Male
Sexuality:
Bisexual, not leaning either way, really. Although considering he’s seen most of the riders naked because of medical reasons he’s not really someone who even thinks about sex anymore. Not unless someone jumps him, and really, who’s about to do that? Also, he doesn’t like touching people
Rank:
Bluerider, Wingrider, Journeyman II (Almost III) Healer
Appearance:
Standing easily at a decent if not towering, five foot seven inches, V’tuar is not menacing because of his height. This is to say that V’tuar is menacing, but his height does not add to it. No, there are many other reasons for V’tuar to be considered a right terror and for him to be feared, but as V’tuar stands, in his bare feet, about average, or even a bit below, most other men, his height cannot be counted among the reasons that people watch his cautiously. This seems to irk V’tuar some, and it would not be a wise or healthy choice on anyone’s part, to mention his height to him. V’tuar’s a vengeful man and he had been known to hold a grudge over turns and turns, just because he can. In all honestly, though, V’tuar’s not really all that short. He’s a few inches below what many other riders stand at, but that seems to be enough. Of course, V’tuar’s body shape makes him appear a little bit taller as well, so some say that this should balance it out, but V’tuar’s height is noticeable if he’s standing next to or near any other person who’s taller than he is, and it’s this little fact that annoys V’tuar more than anything.
Body shape wise, V’tuar could be describes as trim. Leaning towards a thick stocky build, but not quite there, so that his body ends up with a thick and shorter torso and longer leaner legs, V’tuar keeps himself well and in shape. He is very much aware of the benefits of exercise and thus works out and keeps himself as fit as possible. There might be some issues with him flying Thread if Thread ever returns, if only because his eyesight, which really is atrocious, but otherwise V’tuar will be ready if he is needed. He will certainly have no trouble rising to the occasion if called upon. That isn’t the reason V’tuar keeps himself in good shape, though. The reason V’tuar exercises as compulsively as he does is a much more self-satisfying reason, and has little to do with the well being of Pern. V’tuar keeps himself healthy and in shape more out of vengeful spite than anything else. A sort of “screw you” to all those kids and teenagers who picked on him because of his bad eyesight, his lack of physical strength, or his inability to throw a ball of run when he was younger. Now, of course, V’tuar has made up for those things, but it still rankles him, somewhere deep down in his soul, and he takes great, almost sadistic pleasure in the knowledge that he will probably outlive his past tormentors.
Although many think that V’tuar should be fast moving because of his long legs, the exact opposite is true. V’tuar has great reflexes and would make an exceptional boxer, if such a sport existed on Pern, but any sort of sustained running or quick bursts of sprinting completely take it out of him. It’s always been that way, and V’tuar had major issues and difficulties during weyrlinghood in this department, although he more than makes up for it in the amount of things he can lift, haul, push, and punch. And, of course, he did graduate weyrlinghood with the rest of his class, so he must have figured something out. Now, this isn’t to say V’tuar doesn’t have muscles on his legs, for he does. They just aren’t muscles that are used for running, and if pushed in such a way tend to make V’tuar collapse after a few dragonlengths. Swimming and lifting are things that V’tuar’s muscles could do all day, but for what he needs to accomplish in his daily tasks, V’tuar’s physical abilities are superbly adequate.
Upper body wise, V’tuar makes up for any and all perceived or otherwise inadequacies in his legs. Well put together, V’tuar’s body seems to fit correctly with itself, sliding smoothly from shoulder to torso to legs and feet almost seamlessly, and this fluidity extends to his movements as well. There is a grace to V’tuar that is unconscious and natural, something not many people have. V’tuar is, without a doubt, strong and physically capable, with muscles homed not from exercise, although he does do a lot of it, but true physical labor. This means that V’tuar’s body can actually function in real life, instead of just looking nice. It might appear strange to some that this would be the case, but V’tuar is someone who despises letting other people do work, not because he doesn’t want them to strain themselves, because he advises that they do just that in fact, but because he knows that other people would do whatever he needs them to do wrong and he would just end up doing it himself anyways. As V’tuar doesn’t want to have to waste energy and fix something someone else screwed up, it would just be easier for him to do everything by himself the first time and save a step and precious time. Apart from the fact that this makes V’tuar incredibly grumpy and incredibly busy, it also means that is his working physically as well as mentally a lot of the time.
Graced with a long face and deeper set eyes that are presided over by heavyset brows and rather bushy eyebrows, V’tuar had an impressive and brooding face, to say the least. V’tuar’s a rather handsome man, when his face isn’t contorted into a scowl and he isn’t grumbling about every one else in the entire world, or yelling at someone. So, basically, V’tuar’s an attractive human when asleep, and since most people find his personality far too abrasive to get along with, almost no one had seen that face, even after flights because V’tuar’s used to getting up before anyone else, and so he’s usually gone when his weyrmate wakes up. To most people, then, V’tuar is simply perpetually grumpy, and not many people find grumpy an attractive look. This is all fine by V’tuar, who could care less about who thinks he’s good looking, who’s terrified of him, or who’s angry at him. He’s got Draimaekth, and that all he needs.
Once pale skin, smooth and supple, is now tanned and leathery from exposure to the elements, mostly Rukbat’s rays and the wind, and V’tuar had developed quite strong frown lines around his mouth and eyes. Theses lines also come from general wear and tear and many candlemarks spent in the sun training. The lines are not all that bad, but they certainly make V’tuar appear older than he really is. On first glance, many people would put V’tuar at forty-five or maybe even fifty, not in his late thirties, which gives you a good measure of how much time V’tuar spends outside and how much time he spends frowning rather than smiling. As far as placement and shape, V’tuar has got a quite nice pair of eyes. A steely and piercing silvery grey makes up the majority of color in V’tuar’s eyes, with a little bit of darker blue mixed in there for some depth. Not that the color is instantly noticeable, as they are usually, if not always covered by the heavy glasses that V’tuar has to wear to see. Shaped to be large, but brooding, with the heavy lids and brows already mentioned, V’tuar has a striking gaze. With a sharp and hawk like nose and thin lips placed on a long face, combined with V’tuar’s eyes and perpetual scowl, you end up with a rather scary and daunting appearance. Regal in some ways, but certainly not someone you would approach with a warm hello, V’tuar looks serious. It’s hard to imagine him smiling or laughing, and when he does these things it tends to confuse people because it just doesn’t look right on V’tuar.
Most days V’tuar has time to bath or shower and that is all. That is to say, V’tuar will make sure he has time to bath or shower, because if he is not clean he will have trouble functioning, but other such functions as shaving and brushing his hair are often overlooked in favor for getting more important things done. Like making sure the Weyr hasn’t managed to commit suicide overnight. V’tuar’ll eventually get around to those things, when he has a spare moment, but in the morning he usually looks like a whirlwind hit his head. Thankfully, though, V’tuar keeps his rather thick hair cut short and although he’s always seen with stubble and huge circles under his eyes he can clean up, on occasion somewhat nicely. V’tuar’s hair color, however, is truly stunning, and many people think it a shame that he doesn’t seem to care for it. A beautiful reddish auburn with true copper highlights in the sun, it really is a shame that V’tuar keeps his hair short and doesn’t really care for it, for it could be his crowning glory if he gave a hoot. Which, as stated, he doesn’t.
Personality:
There is much to be said about V’tuar personality wise, but most of it is not positive or radiant. This would be because V’tuar is not really a positive or radiant person. In fact, to the list of things that V’tuar is not, it would be ever so easy to add happy, respectful, kind, and a myriad of other positive personality traits. In fact, there is really only one thing about V’tuar that makes him an acceptable human being, and that is his undying love and devotion to other humans and dragons regardless of background, personal history, looks, gender, or really anything. V’tuar cared deeply for living creatures, a love instilled in him by his mother at an early age, and hates to see them suffer. This is the one and only reason V’tuar became a healer, and it is the one and only reason that V’tuar worked so hard at his chosen craft, despite everything he endured. This devotion is still a driving force in V’tuar’s life, although he has a weird way of expressing it outwardly. Still, it seems that this love is deep enough to hurt V’tuar, and even if he is scored and broken by someone, they past friend, family, or lover, he will help them when they need it, no matter past misdeeds or misgivings. This even applies to V’tuar’s enemies as well, and Faranth knows V’tuar has enough of them to go around. The man makes enemies as if it was a hobby, although when it comes to his strange love of life and his enemies, V’tuar is willing to be a little more brutal in his administrations. It’s more of a grey area for him, and while he will still help them, no questions asked there, he’s going to be a little more lax in the numbweed department. He can’t always be a perfect person, after all.
Actually, V’tuar’s a far cry from a perfect person. In fact, V’tuar’s a very nasty person, difficult to deal with and the word “grumpy” doesn’t even begin to cover it. Obstinate and opinionated, V’tuar is the kind of person that other people try to avoid because they are the raincloud that ruins the happy little picnic. And while V’tuar prefers it that way, he also goes out of his way to annoy other people, which might not seem like a good idea, and indeed, it is not. However, V’tuar is not a man who cares what other people think of him. This wasn’t always the case, of course, but those days have long since gone and V’tuar has hardened into someone who could take the harshest of verbal attacks and just shrug it off. It’s not just the effortless self-confidence that he’s obtained over the turns, but also the fact that he doesn’t care what other people think. Healthy in body is his job, not healthy in mind. This isn’t because V’tuar has any particular reason for making people hate him, because he doesn’t, but rather because it is hard to make people like him, and he doesn’t have the time to put into such an endeavor. Despite this, people trust V’tuar. He is an incredibly reliable and trustworthy person, an exceptional secret keeper, and someone who people will seek out for help. Even if people don’t like V’tuar, they do trust him, and that is far more important, both for V’tuar’s job and for him personally, more important than any warmth that V’tuar would receive, at least. Trust allows V’tuar to get his job done and make sure that people are healthy and don’t need his help, a warm hello does not. As long as people will continue to be truthful and honest with V’tuar he couldn’t care less about anything else.
To put it as simply as possible, V’tuar is a mysophobe, in constant need of redwash and masks to satisfy his own compulsions. However, it is only certain things, which set off his peculiar branch of anxiety and OCD. Touching other people does it, which is understandable given that haptephobia is present in V’tuar as well. The haptephobia is more controllable for V’tuar than the mysophobia is, and both of them are manageable. They are not crippling, for the most part. There are good days and there are bad days, but for the most part, V’tuar’s able to muddle along rather well. There are other things that bug V’tuar besides touching people such as unclean clothing, or being breathed on. Sometimes even his sheets or other such things. On the bad days, it can get pretty intense. There are many more, but V’tuar can suppress his reactions to these things. At least, he can manage to suppress his reactions for a time and his need to bathe and shudder for a time. Although the suppression of these things makes the inevitable reactions all the worse. There are things that V’tuar is alright with. Himself, of course, and Draimaekth. There are a few people as well that V’tuar doesn’t care about, but for the most part, these things bug him. Many people wonder how he manages to practice his craft, and the simple fact is this, although V’tuar is twitchy and neurotic, and a generally strange person, that love of humanity and the pain of seeing humanity hurt overshadows the phobias that V’tuar possesses.
On his worst days, V’tuar finds himself in a state of panic, and usually stays in his room when this happens. It wasn’t always like this, of course. Just like his eyesight wasn’t so bad, V’tuar wasn’t always so incredibly paranoid. Over time V’tuar’s compulsions became stronger, pulled along and aggravated by events in V’tuar’s life. These things are the main reasons that V’tuar abused, and still does abuse, both felis and alcohol. When he was younger, this abuse was much worse, but it has mellowed somewhat as he aged, and although he has mostly sworn off of the stuff he has been known, on occasion, sneak both substances. The draw of the comfort they both hold is sometimes a little too strong, although publically V’tuar condemns both substances. His moods do fluctuate some and he has been known to be both depressive and angry. The one person who is able to snap V’tuar out of it however is Draimaekth, as their bond is incredibly deep and strong, especially for V’tuar.
On top of all of this, V’tuar is a cynical person, loud and outspoken, and unafraid of pissing other people off. He doesn’t care that what he’s saying hurts you, because he usually has a reason for what he does. V’tuar is smart, although perhaps misguided in some areas of his life, and his actions are calculated and precise. Of course, may people overlook this and simply see V’tuar as a grouchy, grumpy, middle aged man who pushes his problems on other people. Of course, this isn’t exactly the case, but as V’tuar has secrets, he feels safest behind the man who finds displeasure with others actions and has OCD tendencies. He is not exactly the most gentle of people, but there is a sort of kindness to V’tuar, even though it’s encased in anger and nervousness and V’tuar. It is hard to explain the complexities of this rider, because while he has the strong will and determination that most riders do, he also has other things that perhaps are not standard or normally found in the riderfolk of Pern.
Family:
Chelliatuar (Mother)
V’mer of Blue Freumath (Father) (Estranged)
Background:
V’tuar’s mother and father were never married. In fact, it’s a wonder that the two of them ever met at all. V’tuar’s father was a rider, a man who had impressed at an early age and had been a weyrbrat before that, while V’tuar’s mother was a holdborn and grown woman, beautiful but shy, eccentric, and dedicated to her chosen craft of healing, and when the two of them did meet, sparks flew. Metaphorically speaking, of course. The pair met during a gather at the hold where Chelliatuar, V’tuar’s mother, practiced and was stationed as a journeywoman. At first, the pair paid little attention to one another, Chelliatuar busy with her healing and plenty of other women to occupy V’mer’s time, but half way through the gather V’mer was injured by hot klah to the stomach and groin, a very serious and perilous condition that needed to be treated right away, and so Chelliatuar was summoned and she came.
During that short time, Chell and V’mer decided to meet later on after Chell had been relieved of her duties. Not much was ever said between the two of them. It was a short-lived romance created by looks and smiles and the gentle touch of a healer’s hand. At the end of it, the two of them went their separate ways and never saw one another again. Except, perhaps small glances across a crowded gather, and even then, only the two of them knew. Of course, nine months later, Chell had a little surprise. Except it wasn’t a surprise, as Chell was quite an exceptional healer, if a bit weird and with certain extravagantly odd tastes, and she certainly knew what to expect when she went into labor. Vamintuar was not what you’d call a beautiful baby when he was born. No baby is beautiful. Babies are sorta ugly when they’re first born, and Vamintuar was no different.
Vamintuar grew up with his mother as his best friend. They did everything together, from basic healing, which Chell taught Vamintuar at an early age, to bathing and playing together, the mother and her son were inseparable. Vamintuar had other friends, of course, but his mother was his favorite person in the whole world. Vamintuar was indeed a huge mother’s boy. While Vamintuar was young, this wasn’t a problem. After all, humans need their parents for quite some time before they are able to act on their own. But as Vamintuar got older, it did become a problem. Not for his mother or for him, but for the other children. Young children can be incredibly evil and vindictive, and that’s what happened with Vamintuar and his peers.
Bullied and sneered at by the older and more vindictive of his peers, and avoided by the others because of the bullying, Vamintuar entered the healer’s hall as an apprentice, but spent most of his free time with his mother, learning the massive amount of things that she had to teach him and feeling loved. Because Vamintuar was loved by his mother. Chell adored her son and doted upon him with attention and time. Never married, the two of them were content to live together. It should be noted that nothing bad has ever happened to Chell, and nothing bad ever will. Chelliatuar was concerned for her son, however, who desperately loved her, but who also wanted friends. There wasn’t much she could do for him, though. Her stepping in would only make things worse, and Vamintuar wasn’t exactly a physically capable child. It wasn’t that he was sickly, because he was quite healthy, but rather that he had a hard time keeping up with the other children. He just couldn’t run, couldn’t punch, couldn’t defend himself. He was a weakling, and remained that way for a while.
Vamintuar remained at healer hall for quite some time, spending his free time either with his mother or studying, without any real friends. Vamintuar’s socialization came from lessons and nasty interactions with his peers. This continued until about Vamintuar’s fourteenth turn, when a rider from Ista came on search. This was perhaps the turning point in Vamintuar’s life because he alone was chosen from the children and apprentices at the healer hall to stand. It was an abysmal turnout for the bluerider and his dragon, but for Vamintuar it was a new life and a new chance. However, things didn’t turn out like Vamintuar had hoped. For one thing, his mother, who was essentially his only friend, was not there, and Vamintuar had never really had the chance to learn how to socialize when he was younger, so he had a hard time adjusting to life at Ista Weyr.
This was when Vamintuar turned to alcohol. He might have been young, but he was also clever, and in many ways this alienated him from the others as well. At the Weyr, Vamintuar continued his training in the healer craft, and it was only because he was able to hide his growing alcoholism that he was able to continue to practice and learn. Of course, Vamintuar also began to exercise, as was proper for a candidate. For the first time in his life, Vamintuar was able to keep up with the others, in some areas at least. Running was still a problem for him, and it would remain so even after he impressed. It took two full turns for this to happen, though, with many failed attempts and more depression. It couldn’t be said that Vamintuar was ever depressed seriously, but standing at hatching after hatching certainly could get anyone down, and Vamintuar was no exception.
Then came that day when Vamintuar was sixteen and the call for a hatching came. As every time before, Vamintuar staggered to the sands a little behind everyone else, and just a little bit drunk, watched as eggs from the rather small hatching, for they were all small, really, cracked open and the dragonets inside roamed around the sands looking for theirs. Vamintuar’s eyesight had never been perfect, but he was able to tell the color of the dragons from the eggs and how they hatched. After all, he was farsighted, not nearsighted, and he was standing at the back of the candidates. He had a clear view of what was going on. Each one hatched differently and that was at least interesting. By this time, Vamintuar had pretty much given up hope of impressing. Then this one tiny little blue came and sat before him. It wasn’t impressive, it wasn’t even the last egg to hatch. The blue had simply cracked its shell and come to sit before him.
Hello. It was a strange sensation for Vamintuar to hear the tinkling sort of voice of his dragon in his head. But it was his dragon. Vamintuar knew that at once. The rainbow of impression still danced in the blue’s eyes, and while he wasn’t a stunning blue, glorious and bright, he was… appropriate, the stormy blue of a rain-washed sky. Pleasant, but not vibrant. I am Draimaekth, but I think you already knew that, V’tuarMine. The little creature paused, tilting his head slightly and shuffling his wings before continuing. And I am very sorry, but I am somewhat hungry. You know… hatching and all that. In a sort of dream or haze, the newly names V’tuar looked over to the hatching stands were his mother, without fail, was watching and clapping happily. She’d never missed a hatching, even if V’tuar had stood at many of them before this one.
Thus the end of Vamintuar’s life, and the start of V’tuar’s life. V’tuar still had problems, of course, but he was able to gain some interaction with his fellow Weyrlings, although many of them still made fun of him for his inability to run and his bad eyesight. Of course, while V’tuar trained as a rider with Draimaekth, he also continued with his healer training, and it was at eighteen turns, right when he graduated from Weyrlinghood, that he became a journeyman. Of course, it was impractical for him to leave the Weyr, but perhaps it would have been better if he had. Seven more turns and V’tuar and Draimaekth were participating in the Spring games. They had participated in the festival before, but not in such a way, and both of them, dragon and rider, were excited for it. As excited as either of them could be, for at twenty five, V’tuar already was pretty set in his ways and much like the V’tuar of the present, and Draimaekth was as hard to excite as ever, but still, the pair were looking forward to their time to shine. It was just a pity that it didn’t turn out that way.
The pair took part in the spring games, but it was certainly a tragic day for them both. Half way through the race the buckles on V’tuar’s harness gave out and he fell and cracked his head on the ground. Although the fall wasn’t far, V’tuar didn’t wake up for a day and when he did, his eyesight was much, much worse. Close objects were now incredibly blurry, and after a few days it seemed that V’tuar’s phobias and compulsions were now worse. Even he couldn’t explain it, but for the first time in his life, V’tuar experienced real depression, as well as pounding headaches, which didn’t seem to be about to subside. So V’tuar took up another vice. Felis, the marvelous and ever so addictive substance, which, it seemed to the stricken and now shamed bluerider, could cure all ills and evils. After all, V’tuar had had all of his pride taken away by the fall. He had been taken from his wing, and even the healer hall had requested that he stop practicing for a while, and so what was there left but Draimaekth, wine, and felis? Not much, it seems, except for scrolls. In these dark days V’tuar spent more time than ever reading. Except now his subject matter extended further than healer scrolls. He would read anything he could get his hands on, and that included old worn scrolls about the old menace of thread and the Red Star.
It was his mother who eventually snapped V’tuar out of his downward spiral, and she, along with Draimaekth, who she had always gotten along with in her strange and eccentric way, got V’tuar back onto his feet and ready to face the world. This wasn’t until three turns after his accident, of course, and by that time V’tuar was not much but a shell of himself. The love his mother had always had for him, however, be he Vamintuar or V’tuar, was still there, and Chell, now a master, sat up those long nights with her son as he tried to battle through the withdrawal and pain. It was not easy and it was not quick, taking another two full turns before V’tuar could pronounce himself clean. It was, however, insightful. Chell was as interested as her son had been in the theories on the red star, and she brought him any and all scrolls she could find and that he requested. When V’tuar was ready to go back to the Weyr, he kept his theories to himself, although he knew several of his kin at Ista had come to the same conclusion as he. That the red star was coming back. Thread would rain again from the heavens soon enough.
V’tuar did, however, learn of the first meeting of those who believed that thread would return. He joined the ranks of those who would start the training maneuvers up again, although V’tuar always held a certain anxiety about such things, which stemmed from his own personal accident and experience. Despite this, however, he and Draimaekth were there to help when needed. Then came the day when V’tuar and Draimaekth had to leave. They had concocted a plan that would incorporate Chell, and was quite simple, in fact. V’tuar, visiting his mother with Draimaekth, would pretend to overdose and his mother would pronounce him dead while Draimaekth betweened to far away to allay suspicion. Then V’tuar would leave while the attention was on Chell, who knew how to make a scene, and Draimaekth, who would still be packed with the pair’s things under the pretense of staying with Chell, would pick up V’tuar some distance away and the pair would be free, while news of the death, or possible suicide, was sent back to Ista. It worked well, and went off without a hitch. Chell, of course, believed everything her son told her, and had agreed to help at once. That was how V’tuar and Draimaekth eventually came to reside at Hidden Weyr.
Pets: None. Dirty little cretins…
Dragon
Name: Draimaekth
Age: Twenty One Turns
Color: Blue
Color Code: 466480
Appearance:
Draimaekth is certainly not a large blue, who certainly does not have a large blue’s build. In fact, Draimaekth is rather small with a sort of short stocky build and a very long neck and tail. What Draimaekth is, however, is muscled. He’s stocky but strong, and although low-slung and with what some would consider chubby little legs, he is quick and can carry quite a bit on his back. While not the most attractive dragon to look at, if going by simple proportions, or in fact, hide color, Draimaekth at least doesn’t look out of place with himself. Draimaekth does have length to him, however, even when his neck is curled back on itself and his head is tucked in, his tail, muscled like a thick tree, sticks out strange and long, a powerful weapon. At least, it would have been a powerful weapon if Draimaekth wasn’t the most polite and gentle of all creatures. The same goes for Draimaekth’s neck, which is corded and powerful. A square boxy head tops Draimaekth’s neck, and the blue’s eyes are larger than one would expect, although his headknobs are normal size and appear smaller because of the comparison between his head and his eyes. Large wide wings allow Draimaekth to fly further than many would expect, and his stamina is above many other blues, although he lacks the grace and maneuverability that many of his brethren have. This doesn’t seem to bother him, though, as he has a special sense for the air, and can fly for quiet some time without moving his wings, using only updrafts and downdrafts that appeared in Pern’s skies. A wide back and deep chest finish up Draimaekth’s appearance, which isn’t perfect, but serves him well. Draimaekth isn’t really bothered by much, and his body certainly isn’t one of them. He’s comfortable in his hide, and loves to fly.
Draimaekth’s hide is not very interesting, being a combination of a dusky dull grayish blue and a slightly darker slightly more vibrant blue that overlays the grayish blue in certain areas. Frankly, Draimaekth’s hide is nothing exciting or riveting to look at, but it is surprisingly fitting and calming. Matte, obviously, and perhaps as boring as boring could be, Draimaekth never has much of a chance to look at his hide, but if he did, he’d be yawning. It’s just a hide that slows people down and while no one will probably ever take a second look at Draimaekth, because his hide makes him blend so well into the background, without any real contrast to it or exciting colors, and Draimaekth simply… fades away. The darker blue forms noticeable markings on Draimaekth’s body, crisp clean markings that honestly aren’t much. Oh his headknobs, the dark blue forms a loop that swoops back on the underside to a little more of half way, where it ends. From the bottom of his chin a medium thickness line runs down to Draimaekth’s chest, where it forms to his muscles and creates a sort of downward pointed arrow that extends almost to his stomach and curls back up over his shoulders. The same sort of swoop that appears on his headknobs appears on his forearms and his tail. And there is a fingerless glove like marking on Draimaekth’s wingpalm. The edge of the first wingsail is edged with the darker blue, and the second has a sliver of it, but the last one doesn’t have any. And that’s about it, for Draimaekth’s hide. It’s not really that exciting.
Personality:
Polite and charming, Draimaekth is the exact opposite of his rider. While V’tuar is nasty, Draimaekth is kind and happy, a sort of blissful creature who drifts through life in a sort of haze. Draimaekth’s an intelligent creature, for a blue, and has the same sort of love for creatures that his rider does. However, Draimaekth is without the compulsion and nastiness that his rider has. Everything is just dandy with Draimaekth, although the blue does stand to worry about things. He’s just a sort of fretter, worrying about little things here and there, which his rider is good a smoothing over. The pair complete each other, and Draimaekth is always quick to intervene when V’tuar’s being an ass, and show his affection with others. A dragon who’s not afraid to play and interact with others, Draimaekth is the only reason V’tuar gets out of his room at all, and the blue can be quite social when it takes him, which is quiet often. He loves the little ones, and adores candidates. After all, he is a blue. To him they glow, and he finds that quite interesting. Not the most intelligent of dragons, just somewhat more intelligent than the average blue, Draimaekth is without pride of vanity, and has no shame in asking, although V’tuar seems to have plenty to go around.
Anything else: Nothing really.
