Post by Felina on Aug 15, 2007 16:06:02 GMT -5
Character Name
Felina
Age
15
Gender
Female
Preference
Neither, as far as physical preferences go. Emotionally, she prefers females. Of course, she's still a bit young for that to be set in stone, but it's still unlikely to change.
Previous Position
Apprentice Tanner
Current Position
Candidate
Appearance
Felina is a sturdy lass of fifteen Turns, of slightly broader build than is usual. Tall and well-muscled, it would be easy to mistake her for a Smithcraft apprentice rather than the Tanner that she is. Unusually long in the legs, she's either going to make a very tall, well-proportioned woman, or one that is eternally stuck in that gawky-looking phase. On those occasions when it is actually possible to see her skin, not marred by scars, but as it should appear, one can see that she has a fairly tan, olive complexion. By all rights, Felina should be naturally considered quite beautiful.
Of course, one look at her face is enough to change that, let alone her arms to the elbow. A deep, semi-circle scar runs across her left cheek, breaking briefly where skin was protected by rather prominent cheekbones, and continuing again at her otherwise thick eyebrow, cleaving it neatly in half. Her nose is bent at an abnormal angle, lending the idea that it's been broken in the past, perhaps multiple times. A second, broader but less defined scar, runs from right of her right eye to her chin, and causes her mouth to be slightly lopsided on that side. Her smile appears painfully awkward, and the deep scowl that crosses her face every time she catches sight of a runnerbeast is somewhat terrifying to behold. Her thick, black-brown hair that she wears nearly to her shoulders and the dark brown eyes that gleam as brightly as ever don't help dissuade the opinion that she is, by circumstances quite beyond her control, somewhat ugly.
A run of bad luck seems to be sticking quite firmly to Felina, for her arms, too, have been scarred. From the base of her pinky to her elbow on the outside of her left arm and from thumb to elbow on the inside of her right arm is a huge network of criss-crossing scars, often joining together to form a patch of smooth, unbroken scar tissue. She scowls, too, when she catches sight of an agenothree tank, and it becomes deeper still when she sees ground crews actually using the dreadful things. It doesn't take a gait still awkward by adolescence and her strange posturing, holding her arms slightly away from her body and often not looking directly at a person, to solidify the opinion that Felina is a strange sort of young woman. And, of course, entirely unmarriable.
Personality
For all of her outward gruffness and social standoffishness, Felina really does have a pure heart. She's just more than slightly uncomfortably aware of her differences, and is quite often feared by her fellow apprentices and more than a few of the other hold children. However, she truly is kind, even if her opportunities to show such kindness are few and far between. She has a deep distaste for death, which was the primary motivating factor for her requesting to be apprenticed as a Tanner rather than Herder (as she feels that far too many herdbeasts are killed for their meat; the fact that Tanners work with leather, which comes from dead animals, goes largely ignored). Strangely, though she has the build for it, she has never considered becoming a Smith. Except for matters concerning her own appearance, runnerbeasts, and the use of agenothree, she is fairly upbeat and positive. She often says of her own craft, “I can take something dead and ugly, give it new life, and make it beautiful.”
She'll work hard at whatever task is set her (unless, of course, it's something as onerous as mucking out stables; anyone in their right minds would dally about in performing that, especially one who despises runnerbeasts as much as Felina does) until it is completed. This goes both for her Craft, and for life in the Hold. As it is such an important (and easily learned at an apprentice level) Craft, the Tanners are interspersed among various holds, rather than being concentrated in a Crafthall. When she has the opportunity, she will take charge; however, she usually prefers to be second woman rather than the leader, as she is still in a role that is assuming some power, but there aren't quite as many eyes on her. For reasons that should be fairly obvious, Felina is uncomfortable with direct eye contact, or simply having too many people looking at her at once. She often claims that she can feel people looking at her, but everyone knows that's impossible,... right?
History
At Felina's birth, all in attendance exclaimed “What a lovely strong girl!”, concerned more with the fact that she seemed more apt to survive than that she already didn't seem the sort to grow up into a dainty little lady. And indeed, she was, suckling greedily at her mother Tatiana's breast, already with enough hand strength to clutch at any proffered finger save for her father's, which was simply too large to grasp with such a tiny baby hand. However, she was in no way at all tiny in comparison to other babies; simply to her father, who towered over his child as all parents do early in life. As all adults do, for that matter. For a good while, life went uphill for her. She grew to be a toddler, teetering around on legs already long for her size, scampering off in search of bubbly pies at every gather, and ignoring her mother's pleas to stay by her side.
Should've known that free-spiritedness would escalate into something of a problem. As a child, she was often expected to aid her father Tonaro, who was a Herder, with the runnerbeasts. In much the same manner that so many other children are wont to do, she would often show a complete disregard for parental orders. In the end, it was to be her undoing. After being told not to disturb Rolfe, the exceptionally distrusting stallion, Felina deliberately disobeyed. After all, he was an exceptionally beautiful beast, of bay colouration, and with his thick winter coat, he did look amazingly soft. She broke two rules of handling runnerbeasts that day: never fail to alert one of your presence, and approach only from the left, never the back. The Healer said she was lucky to be alive. After enduring the stares of those who had once been her friends, Felina thought that she would have been lucky to be dead.
It was then that she started to tend to move more into a second role, rather than a first. To go off on her own much more frequently than she had before the run-in with the runner. When none of the other children were listening, she would frequently complain to her parents that even if she couldn't see any of the stares directed her way, she could feel them. She could feel them, not on her body, she said, but “in her heart.” She knew no other way to explain it, at only nine Turns of age. Her parents simply scoffed, told her that she was overreacting, and redoubled their efforts to find a Craft in which she could become an apprentice so young. They figured that it was time she broke off from the rest of the group. It would do her a world of good, they thought.
At first, they tried to pressure her into apprenticing to her father. After all, Herding was a good Craft, an extremely necessary Craft, and it was in the family. However, it quickly became apparent that she was no more willing to approach a runnerbeast than she was to eat a wherry, feathers and all. For a few months, she couldn't quite make up her mind as to what she wanted to do. Weaving looked interesting, but could she really sit still at a loom all day? Healing? No, it would be too painful, dredging up thoughts that she would rather stay in the murky bottoms of her mind. Hunting? Shards, no. Though she had at points wanted to be dead, death was probably the only thing she hated more than runnerbeasts. It had a smell to it, a bad smell, worse than feeling the stares of others. Harper? More people staring at her than she could ever be comfortable with. Trader? No, that didn't quite fit. Rider? No, that wasn't a Craft, was it? Pity, that. For a long time, her mind shied away from Tanner. After all, they dealt with dead things. Dead leather. Dead hide. But then she got to thinking. She could take something that was dead and ugly, give it new life, and make it into something beautiful. Yes, that was what she would do. Felina would be a Tanner.
Simply happy that she had found something, her parents were, by all rights, ecstatic. And though Master Environ was by no means an easy Master, it was better than having to hear about runnerbeasts all of the time. So often secluded, practising her new-found Craft, she didn't frequently have to bear the stares around her. Turns passed, and at twelve Turns of age, Felina was old enough to help with welding the belt buckles. Little did she know, the cloud of horrid luck still clung to her like a flea to a canine. Again, disaster struck. Toril, careless and impatient, had failed to check the nozzle on the modified agenothree tank that could be used to efficiently engrave designs or the initials of the maker on metal components of items such as boots, belts, and some of the heavier jackets. Felina never could remember just what it was he was supposed to be engraving, only that she could only watch in shock and horror as the flesh on her arms was eaten away. The nozzle had been set to its widest setting, and as Toril had jerked it away from his precious work, not wanting to see it go to waste, it had ended up pointing in a direction he could not have possibly wanted it to point in.
In time, all wounds heal, but there are things that are more than skin-deep. Felina developed a deep loathing of all things associated with tanks and burning. Though her craft was still available to her, her hands thankfully having been spared, she never again picked up a welding torch. She never again went anywhere near that small section of the workshop. Again, she wished to be a Rider, as most every child does. She'd be a great rider, and there wouldn't be a need for ground crews; she'd heard the stories often enough. Yes, she could spare anyone else from suffering her same fate, spare anyone else from ever needing use the horrendous acid again. Alas, she was not a Rider, and therefore could not do such a thing. Because, after all, there were no more Riders, only a legend long gone. The fact that with no more Thread, there wouldn't be any more for ground crews regardless, went ignored, as so many details do.
Two more Turns passed with little incident, though every time she went out in the street now, she could swear she felt it every time that anyone's glance swept across her. Some things got worse. And others got better. The boots she made were now passable, and though they were slightly uneven, she wore her own product proudly. She would be something someday. She would be worthy to bear the title “Pernese”!
And then came the most awe-inspiring event of them all. The dragons returned! And with them the awful thoughts of agenothree tanks in use, and the soaring dreams of flight on the back of a dragon. When she was Searched, she realised that there was, there really was a possibility of those dreams coming true. But, then, there was also that possibility of that same black luck coming back to haunt her. Only time would tell, she mused, as she soared away from her erstwhile home on the back of another's dragon.
Position in Family
First child to survive infancy, though she was the third-born. Therefore was considered the eldest.
Special Requests Application reason
Ability to 'feel' people looking at her, following the rather traumatic experiences involving a runnerbeast and an agenothree welding torch.
RP History
Five years, give or take a few months. It's been a long time.
Familiarity with Pern
Have I read the books? Obsessively so. Some of them upwards of nine or ten times (What can I say? Dragonquest involved F'nor quite a lot...), most of them two or three, with a few exceptions (I despised the White Dragon, and have never re-read it).
Desired Dragon Colour
Brown, and if not that, Blue.
Reason for this Preference
For starters, Felina would never survive in a queens' wing, so that can just be eliminated altogether (something to do with a hatred of agenothree). Why brown, then? It fits her preference of being second-in-command, in charge but not really particularly prominent. (It might also have something to do with the fact that I am somewhat obsessed with F'nor.) Blue because she'd never be able to withstand a Flight with a green dragon, with so many eyes on her, and the fact that she's not particularly forceful could lead to her green gorging so as to not really be able to fly.
Syllable Numbers for Name
1 would be the best, and if not that, 4. I like either names that are short and to the point, or long enough to make nicknames necessary.
Preferred Starting Letters for Name
V, Y, and I. They're very often overlooked letters.
Preferred Dragon Ability
Creativity, Team Cooperation, and Agility
Felina
Age
15
Gender
Female
Preference
Neither, as far as physical preferences go. Emotionally, she prefers females. Of course, she's still a bit young for that to be set in stone, but it's still unlikely to change.
Previous Position
Apprentice Tanner
Current Position
Candidate
Appearance
Felina is a sturdy lass of fifteen Turns, of slightly broader build than is usual. Tall and well-muscled, it would be easy to mistake her for a Smithcraft apprentice rather than the Tanner that she is. Unusually long in the legs, she's either going to make a very tall, well-proportioned woman, or one that is eternally stuck in that gawky-looking phase. On those occasions when it is actually possible to see her skin, not marred by scars, but as it should appear, one can see that she has a fairly tan, olive complexion. By all rights, Felina should be naturally considered quite beautiful.
Of course, one look at her face is enough to change that, let alone her arms to the elbow. A deep, semi-circle scar runs across her left cheek, breaking briefly where skin was protected by rather prominent cheekbones, and continuing again at her otherwise thick eyebrow, cleaving it neatly in half. Her nose is bent at an abnormal angle, lending the idea that it's been broken in the past, perhaps multiple times. A second, broader but less defined scar, runs from right of her right eye to her chin, and causes her mouth to be slightly lopsided on that side. Her smile appears painfully awkward, and the deep scowl that crosses her face every time she catches sight of a runnerbeast is somewhat terrifying to behold. Her thick, black-brown hair that she wears nearly to her shoulders and the dark brown eyes that gleam as brightly as ever don't help dissuade the opinion that she is, by circumstances quite beyond her control, somewhat ugly.
A run of bad luck seems to be sticking quite firmly to Felina, for her arms, too, have been scarred. From the base of her pinky to her elbow on the outside of her left arm and from thumb to elbow on the inside of her right arm is a huge network of criss-crossing scars, often joining together to form a patch of smooth, unbroken scar tissue. She scowls, too, when she catches sight of an agenothree tank, and it becomes deeper still when she sees ground crews actually using the dreadful things. It doesn't take a gait still awkward by adolescence and her strange posturing, holding her arms slightly away from her body and often not looking directly at a person, to solidify the opinion that Felina is a strange sort of young woman. And, of course, entirely unmarriable.
Personality
For all of her outward gruffness and social standoffishness, Felina really does have a pure heart. She's just more than slightly uncomfortably aware of her differences, and is quite often feared by her fellow apprentices and more than a few of the other hold children. However, she truly is kind, even if her opportunities to show such kindness are few and far between. She has a deep distaste for death, which was the primary motivating factor for her requesting to be apprenticed as a Tanner rather than Herder (as she feels that far too many herdbeasts are killed for their meat; the fact that Tanners work with leather, which comes from dead animals, goes largely ignored). Strangely, though she has the build for it, she has never considered becoming a Smith. Except for matters concerning her own appearance, runnerbeasts, and the use of agenothree, she is fairly upbeat and positive. She often says of her own craft, “I can take something dead and ugly, give it new life, and make it beautiful.”
She'll work hard at whatever task is set her (unless, of course, it's something as onerous as mucking out stables; anyone in their right minds would dally about in performing that, especially one who despises runnerbeasts as much as Felina does) until it is completed. This goes both for her Craft, and for life in the Hold. As it is such an important (and easily learned at an apprentice level) Craft, the Tanners are interspersed among various holds, rather than being concentrated in a Crafthall. When she has the opportunity, she will take charge; however, she usually prefers to be second woman rather than the leader, as she is still in a role that is assuming some power, but there aren't quite as many eyes on her. For reasons that should be fairly obvious, Felina is uncomfortable with direct eye contact, or simply having too many people looking at her at once. She often claims that she can feel people looking at her, but everyone knows that's impossible,... right?
History
At Felina's birth, all in attendance exclaimed “What a lovely strong girl!”, concerned more with the fact that she seemed more apt to survive than that she already didn't seem the sort to grow up into a dainty little lady. And indeed, she was, suckling greedily at her mother Tatiana's breast, already with enough hand strength to clutch at any proffered finger save for her father's, which was simply too large to grasp with such a tiny baby hand. However, she was in no way at all tiny in comparison to other babies; simply to her father, who towered over his child as all parents do early in life. As all adults do, for that matter. For a good while, life went uphill for her. She grew to be a toddler, teetering around on legs already long for her size, scampering off in search of bubbly pies at every gather, and ignoring her mother's pleas to stay by her side.
Should've known that free-spiritedness would escalate into something of a problem. As a child, she was often expected to aid her father Tonaro, who was a Herder, with the runnerbeasts. In much the same manner that so many other children are wont to do, she would often show a complete disregard for parental orders. In the end, it was to be her undoing. After being told not to disturb Rolfe, the exceptionally distrusting stallion, Felina deliberately disobeyed. After all, he was an exceptionally beautiful beast, of bay colouration, and with his thick winter coat, he did look amazingly soft. She broke two rules of handling runnerbeasts that day: never fail to alert one of your presence, and approach only from the left, never the back. The Healer said she was lucky to be alive. After enduring the stares of those who had once been her friends, Felina thought that she would have been lucky to be dead.
It was then that she started to tend to move more into a second role, rather than a first. To go off on her own much more frequently than she had before the run-in with the runner. When none of the other children were listening, she would frequently complain to her parents that even if she couldn't see any of the stares directed her way, she could feel them. She could feel them, not on her body, she said, but “in her heart.” She knew no other way to explain it, at only nine Turns of age. Her parents simply scoffed, told her that she was overreacting, and redoubled their efforts to find a Craft in which she could become an apprentice so young. They figured that it was time she broke off from the rest of the group. It would do her a world of good, they thought.
At first, they tried to pressure her into apprenticing to her father. After all, Herding was a good Craft, an extremely necessary Craft, and it was in the family. However, it quickly became apparent that she was no more willing to approach a runnerbeast than she was to eat a wherry, feathers and all. For a few months, she couldn't quite make up her mind as to what she wanted to do. Weaving looked interesting, but could she really sit still at a loom all day? Healing? No, it would be too painful, dredging up thoughts that she would rather stay in the murky bottoms of her mind. Hunting? Shards, no. Though she had at points wanted to be dead, death was probably the only thing she hated more than runnerbeasts. It had a smell to it, a bad smell, worse than feeling the stares of others. Harper? More people staring at her than she could ever be comfortable with. Trader? No, that didn't quite fit. Rider? No, that wasn't a Craft, was it? Pity, that. For a long time, her mind shied away from Tanner. After all, they dealt with dead things. Dead leather. Dead hide. But then she got to thinking. She could take something that was dead and ugly, give it new life, and make it into something beautiful. Yes, that was what she would do. Felina would be a Tanner.
Simply happy that she had found something, her parents were, by all rights, ecstatic. And though Master Environ was by no means an easy Master, it was better than having to hear about runnerbeasts all of the time. So often secluded, practising her new-found Craft, she didn't frequently have to bear the stares around her. Turns passed, and at twelve Turns of age, Felina was old enough to help with welding the belt buckles. Little did she know, the cloud of horrid luck still clung to her like a flea to a canine. Again, disaster struck. Toril, careless and impatient, had failed to check the nozzle on the modified agenothree tank that could be used to efficiently engrave designs or the initials of the maker on metal components of items such as boots, belts, and some of the heavier jackets. Felina never could remember just what it was he was supposed to be engraving, only that she could only watch in shock and horror as the flesh on her arms was eaten away. The nozzle had been set to its widest setting, and as Toril had jerked it away from his precious work, not wanting to see it go to waste, it had ended up pointing in a direction he could not have possibly wanted it to point in.
In time, all wounds heal, but there are things that are more than skin-deep. Felina developed a deep loathing of all things associated with tanks and burning. Though her craft was still available to her, her hands thankfully having been spared, she never again picked up a welding torch. She never again went anywhere near that small section of the workshop. Again, she wished to be a Rider, as most every child does. She'd be a great rider, and there wouldn't be a need for ground crews; she'd heard the stories often enough. Yes, she could spare anyone else from suffering her same fate, spare anyone else from ever needing use the horrendous acid again. Alas, she was not a Rider, and therefore could not do such a thing. Because, after all, there were no more Riders, only a legend long gone. The fact that with no more Thread, there wouldn't be any more for ground crews regardless, went ignored, as so many details do.
Two more Turns passed with little incident, though every time she went out in the street now, she could swear she felt it every time that anyone's glance swept across her. Some things got worse. And others got better. The boots she made were now passable, and though they were slightly uneven, she wore her own product proudly. She would be something someday. She would be worthy to bear the title “Pernese”!
And then came the most awe-inspiring event of them all. The dragons returned! And with them the awful thoughts of agenothree tanks in use, and the soaring dreams of flight on the back of a dragon. When she was Searched, she realised that there was, there really was a possibility of those dreams coming true. But, then, there was also that possibility of that same black luck coming back to haunt her. Only time would tell, she mused, as she soared away from her erstwhile home on the back of another's dragon.
Position in Family
First child to survive infancy, though she was the third-born. Therefore was considered the eldest.
Special Requests Application reason
Ability to 'feel' people looking at her, following the rather traumatic experiences involving a runnerbeast and an agenothree welding torch.
RP History
Five years, give or take a few months. It's been a long time.
Familiarity with Pern
Have I read the books? Obsessively so. Some of them upwards of nine or ten times (What can I say? Dragonquest involved F'nor quite a lot...), most of them two or three, with a few exceptions (I despised the White Dragon, and have never re-read it).
Desired Dragon Colour
Brown, and if not that, Blue.
Reason for this Preference
For starters, Felina would never survive in a queens' wing, so that can just be eliminated altogether (something to do with a hatred of agenothree). Why brown, then? It fits her preference of being second-in-command, in charge but not really particularly prominent. (It might also have something to do with the fact that I am somewhat obsessed with F'nor.) Blue because she'd never be able to withstand a Flight with a green dragon, with so many eyes on her, and the fact that she's not particularly forceful could lead to her green gorging so as to not really be able to fly.
Syllable Numbers for Name
1 would be the best, and if not that, 4. I like either names that are short and to the point, or long enough to make nicknames necessary.
Preferred Starting Letters for Name
V, Y, and I. They're very often overlooked letters.
Preferred Dragon Ability
Creativity, Team Cooperation, and Agility