Junior Wherhandlers

[Shikai]

Junior Wherhandlers

Raina and Gold Raisk
Tanawic and Bronze Tansk
Baryn and Bronze Bask
Shandar and Brown Shask
Amika and Brown Amisk
Kolibri and Brown __
Corenne and Blue Coresk
Keveran and Blue __
Emmeline and Blue Emmesk
Rain and Green __
Keil and Green Keisk

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[Shikai]

Character Name:
Corenne

Age:
22 Turns

Gender:
Female

Preference:
Male

Previous Position:
Resident of a farm on the outskirts of Ceros Hold

Current Position:
Weyrfolk

Appearance:
Oh, some might consider Corenne beautiful. Or rather, one would, at the very least. Others might be slightly concerned. Not that anyone could really blame them. What with her thin frame, fairly small height, and pale skin that is more susceptible than usual to bruising, it's easy to see where their worry is stemming from. She often looks somewhat underfed, slightly younger than she really is, and what with the bruises it looks fairly convincingly as though someone has been mistreating her. Oh, how wrong they are. The size is only what has been given her at birth, and nothing different. The pale skin is more a result of choosing to remain indoors, and bruises are an occupational hazard of being blind. After all, you're bound to run into a piece of furniture that's been moved or a person that isn't paying particularly close attention on occasion.

Her face is somewhat angular, almost sharp, and vivid blue eyes don't do anything to help with that impression. The only thing that really has any ability at all to soften it is her hair, a curly mess of dark brown that refuses to lie flat, or do anything similar to lying flat, but rather pokes out in various directions. It goes down to approximately halfway down her back, though if it were to be straight, who knows how long it might actually be. She rarely wears it up, but prefers instead to let it loose.

Personality:
A whirling ball of energy, it's really a wonder that Corenne made it through her childhood without doing something stupid, like drowning. And even then, she made some major mistakes; simply no life-threatening ones. She's always busy doing something, or teaching the children a new song when they're excessively bored, perhaps writing her own, even. Though the written word is her first love, the fact that it is denied her drives her to music and poetry, which are much more easily remembered than the stories that come off of old Record hides. She can hardly bear to sit still for very long, though, and can frequently be found wandering the halls, muttering verses to herself in order to commit them to memory.

Perhaps that is why some who don't know her think her slightly unhinged. It's not a difficult conclusion to jump to, really, what with the verses and the fact that she never quite looks at a person, but usually slightly off to one side or another, or worse, not looking at them at all but rather staring off at nothing. It doesn't help that she's naturally rather shy, and would frequently avoid speaking to a person unless absolutely necessary.

When she is sitting still, though, she's often found with a pair of needles in her hands and a ball of yarn off to the left. Knitting is one activity that she enjoys, and though it is frequently remarked that her colour choices are more than slightly erratic, the hats that she knits are rather warm, though still not particularly suited to the frigid northern winters. The fact that she resides in southern, though, causes that to be a non-issue. During the winter, within the Hold itself, where some hallways are quite cold regardless of the fact that they're not outside at all, they do indeed serve their purpose.

Unfortunately, she's also about as stubborn as the most obstinate dray beasts that you'll ever meet, and refuses to back down in any argument, regardless of how trivial. How lucky for Altair. Once her mind is set, it's nearly impossible to change. For example, she remains convinced that she can do on her own whatever she decides that she wants to do, and showing pity towards her can often land a person a very long talking-to, she showing absolutely no mercy with her rather sharp tongue.

Combine all of that with the fact that she is very honour-bound, perhaps due to the fact that she has an unusually good memory and therefore learned all of the teaching songs, if not necessarily note-perfect, rather quickly, and you get a person that is going to do what is best for Pern as a whole, whatever the consequences might be. The first thing in her mind is her duty towards her Hold. Because without that, there might as well be anarchy and a general collapse of Pern's structure.


History:
What parents could possibly have been overjoyed? Their first-born, a girl. So much for the eldest carrying on the family name. Not that their family really meant much regardless. Her early signs of intelligence notwithstanding, well, they still would rather she had been a boy. But one can't have everything in life. Or, well, anything, as her brother, born when she was four Turns old, didn't live through his first week. Perhaps it was that very kinship, having lost a sibling, that drew her towards Altair, who was to become her best friend, at times even like another brother. The two young children certainly did cause enough problems for Corenne's parents. But, then, they didn't really mind. Having Altair around was like having their own son back, three Turns later. And though he certainly couldn't carry their family name onward, it was a small comfort.

Even that early on, Corenne was extremely conscious of duty, of right and wrong. It was no small wonder that she was the one who would be against attempting to capture a tunnel snake to look at its teeth, racing as far out into the waves as they could go, and then returning back, all while it was raining. However, her incessant supply of energy kept her from doing everything correctly all of the time. Especially in those times when Altair was not around, she became excessively bored, and did some things she probably should not have done. Made some mistakes she probably should not have made.

One, in particular.

How boring it was, with most of the other children in the Hold, Altair in particular, sick! How dull it was, sitting there alone, playing by herself, not allowed to communicate with the others for fear of it spreading. Any distraction would suffice, anything at all. Race through the waves? Oh, yes! Try to catch a tunnel snake? Anything for the sake of the defeat of boredom! To think what could have been averted, had only she had someone else there to keep her occupied, rather than being allowed to essentially run wild.

When one day it got dark around noon, how could she help but be entertained? And when she looked up, to see the Red Star glowering down on her, framed by a halo of the much friendlier Rukbat, how could she help but stare at such a beautiful thing? And though her eyes watered as the two slowly moved apart, how could she notice? For here, here was something to alleviate the boredom! If, the next day, she noticed that her vision was somewhat hazy, how could she have attributed it to the pretty lights, she not even knowing then what an eclipse might be.

The rest of Corenne's life was to be living proof of how horribly wrong a simple thing can go. When she, too, inevitably got sick, as so many others already had, the rampaging virus didn't stop at causing coughing and a fever. No, it did more than that. With the immune system already compromised, a secondary infection was able to take hold. This one attacked her already-damaged retinas. Upon being proclaimed healthy, it became quite clear that her sight was by that point entirely nonexistent. From that time on, Corenne was marked as vitally different. Because she was blind.

It took some months of getting used to. For a long time, she had difficulty with the placement of furniture and doorways, and would trip over just about every step that she came to. When she was sure that nobody else was looking, she spent a lot of time crying, ashamed that she appeared so clumsy compared to everyone else, ashamed that she could never participate in the games of tag that the other children so enjoyed playing. But worst of all was the knowledge that her best friend, Altair, didn't seem to understand. He laughed when she bumped into things, when she tripped over things, when she couldn't find the knife she had put down right next to her plate. But slowly, she got better at remembering where things were, and not letting go of something unless it was to be a long while before she was to need it again. She got better at finding people by the direction from which their voice had come from, and following a person from their footsteps.

It was those first couple of Turns that were the hardest. But the feelings of being misunderstood were, thankfully, not to last forever. Early in her ninth Turn, Altair's brother was killed in a mining accident. Though she couldn't remember having lost anyone, as it's difficult to remember something that had happened when you were only four, she could understand feeling sad and alone. Perhaps it was then that she was truly accepted for who she was. Whatever it was, the next few Turns could not have been happier. Forever having been denied the written word, she had someone that would read to her. There were no longer awkward moments when she was asked to play Tag, or Thread and Dragons. She didn't know the exact reason, but it didn't really at all matter.

It wasn't until her teenage years that Corenne really started to grow as a person in her own right. Always, she'd been lumped together with Altair. If she was somewhere, so, too, was he expected to be. But as he started going off to places, as he was, after all, so much more independent than she could possibly have dreamed of being at that time, she was left to fend for herself much of the time. So not only did she grow up, she grew out mentally, out of the rigid confines that she had so willingly been placed within. And, as a teenager complete with hyperactive hormones, she learned that when he was gone, she missed Altair more than she ever would have thought she would miss someone. But for the time, she denied it, even to herself. She would not-- could not-- fall in love with the man who would always have duties to perform, planting and harvesting and whatnot. Not if she was so unable to perform those duties necessary of his wife. It was then that she decided, then that she chose to lead a life in which she would deny herself what she most wanted in favor of what would be best for all others involved.

When, a number of Turns later, Altair's parents died in a freak storm somewhere out at sea, she grieved along with the rest of those who had known them. For the next three sevendays, she kept a close ear on him, concerned that he might do something rash, even attempt to find them. Or, at the very least, their bodies. And yet, she couldn't help but worry. Here he was, becoming that which she had known he must become eventually. But what would that mean for her? She knew what was coming, knew that she could never accept. But what she did not know was whether or not she would be able to turn him down, when what she wanted to do most was accept. But a stable human being cannot be ruled by the heart alone. It takes the mind, and logic, to keep order. And so she allowed her mind to take over, ignoring her heart completely.

For the next Turn or more, she declined, never allowing his pleas to wear her defenses thin. She could not give in, not if she wanted the farm that she was so graciously allowed to live on to survive beyond the next winter. For she believed herself incapable of doing the proper duties, and therefore unable to help bring the Hold through the winter months.

And so her story will continue to go on, and who knows what the future holds?


Position in Family:
Eldest child


Wher Name: Coresk

Wher Color: Blue

Wher Appearance: Although powerfully built for a blue, Coresk is more beauty the brawn. Different shades of azure, periwinkle blue, sea foamy cerulean and brilliant cobalt swirl across his muscular form. Pale sapphire breakers crash over his feet like socks while his stumpy wings, squat snout, and relatively short tail are dipped in deep navy.

Wher Personality: Nothing ever seems to be enough for this greedy wher. He perpetually strives for more, feeling that he and his handler deserve nothing but the best. While his ambitious tendencies will certainly aid himself and his handler in attaining, at least, what’s necessary, this wher will be difficult to please. Although easily placated, his temper is as fierce as a storm, and is given to violent mood swings. It would be wrong, however, to misjudge Coresk only on his faults, for although his will is strong, it’s strong for his handler as well. What he does is often guided by what he feels will benefit this special person. Serenity is not a foreign emotion to him, and when calmed this creature can prove a surprisingly gentle companion. Although he is certainly a force to be reckoned with, he tends to forget he’s not as powerful as he believes.

[Shikai]

Character Name: Tanawic

Age: 17

Gender: male

Preference: both, but mostly girls

Previous Position: candidate

Current Position: wher candidate

Appearance: Tanawic is one of those strange people who has very blond hair and blue eyes and yet somehow still manages to be one of the darkest looking people you will ever have the misfortune to meet. His eyes seem to bore into people's skulls, and they have a marked creepiness to them. He's not particularly tall, but he's tall enough, and his wiry frame makes him seem to loom over everything. He just looks like a brooding, angsty teenager, but in an almost scary way. Because of that, most people tend to avoid him. When he smiles, it looks like he's smirking, even when he isn't.

Personality: Tanawic, or Tan as his few friends call him, is a very isolated person. He chooses to be that way because he's quite cynical and rather disillusioned with society. One of his hobbies to to disillusion other people and crush their hopes. To him, it's kind of funny, and it's better for them to realize now that they're not going to get what they want in life anyway. Most people think he's a really mean person for it, but he's doing it at least partially out of pity. And partly out of schadenfreude.

Tan's not the most social of people anyway, because most people don't understand his rather morbid sense of humor. He's made a habit of scaring away anyone who doesn't like his ironic laughter. That may be why a large portion of the population finds him genuinely scary. Once he gets to know someone, though, he's as sweet as can be. Because he has so few friends, he tends to latch on to them. It's not that he's clingy so much as he's afraid of being alone. When he is friends with someone, though, he'd die for them. He's the one of the group who's quiet, kind of scary to outsiders, and extremely over-protective of his people when provoked.

Poor Tanawic can get obsessive over things if he's not careful. Mostly, he does stuff like this with the one girl he's liked forever. He'll never reveal who it is, but he spends a fair amount of time moping over her, to the chagrin of all his friends.

He values loyalty more than anything else in other people, and he hates people who turn out to be back-stabbing jerks. It's in part his upbringing, and the fact that he was aware of how often his parents were being manipulated in their naivety.

Tan's rather blunt, when he's in the mood to talk to you. It makes people mad quite frequently, but he doesn't care very much. If they can't appreciate his honesty, they're probably spending most of their time lying to themselves anyway.

History: Tanawic's mother and father were simple hold-folk when the dragons first came and started Araelen. He was a small child, but they moved there as soon as they could, because his father was one of those odd people who has a fascination with things they don't understand but think they do. Thus, he ran around like an idiot at the weyr from the time it was founded. Perhaps it was when he first met Sitareh that he became disillusioned with society. While his parents were both optimistic creatures, he was better at seeing through other people's crap. Sitareh was so obviously full of crap, in his mind, that he couldn't help but say what was on his mind.

At first, he didn't say anything to Sitareh of his opinions on her, in part because his parents meant too much to him and in part because he was just the peasant-son of the village idiot who wanted a dragon but was too old to impress. His parents were old, though, for having a young son, and shortly after he turned sixteen, they died of completely natural causes. It was his father's last wish that he should be a candidate, and so he became a candidate.

The candidates were being evaluated. Of course, he thought it might be fun to enlighten Sitareh to the way of the world at about the same time. At the time, he though she was kind of stupid, but he spoke with full honesty. A bit too much honesty. He told her that eventually, she'd lose all her power and be replaced. Needless to say, she didn't take too kindly to that reaction. When he found a notice on his bed stating that he was being moved to a much danker set of quarters and that he would be changing in rank, he was a bit confused, but instead of being bothered badly by it as some people would, he simply hated Sitareh more for being a lying jerk and fell in love with one of the girls who was staying there. She was the one, in fact, who informed him that they were to be candidates for a watch-wher.

Position in Family: only child, I suppose, but it doesn't really matter

Pets: none

Alignment: he'd be a rebel, if he weren't destined to be rejected by even the regular rejects to the dregs of society, the wherhandler


Wher Name: Tansk

Wher Color: Bronze

Wher Appearance: Tansk is truly a titan among whers. Outsized only by the queens, and only slightly at that, his extraordinary size is only added to by a very bulky build. While this comes at the cost of speed and whatever grace is possible for a wher, he is matched by none in terms of sheer power. Tansk’s hide, too, is a sight to behold. A rich undercoat of slightly darker than usual bronze coats him, although this is strikingly marked by lighter swirls reminiscent of thunderclouds. Bright, jagged streaks are scattered across him, almost like lightning bolts against the stormy canvas that is the rest of him.

Wher Personality: Tansk’s pride is evident in both his carriage and his every motion. He demands respect from all those he encounters, save, of course, for the queens, and has the size and power to enforce this desire should he be required to. Yet so long as his supremacy over those of equal or lesser color is not questioned, Tansk is hardly vicious or bad-natured by wher standards. His primary concern, perhaps even more so than power, is courting females. Rather than stay loyal to one, he seeks to obtain as many female admirers as possible, and will use any means necessary to do so. He is certainly not above tricks or deception, although his exploits are never mean-spirited. However, only his handler can truly hold this wher’s loyalty, as for this individual he will be a staunch and powerful ally so long as his pursuit of females is not inhibited.

[Shikai]

Character Name: Rain

Age: 16

Gender: Female

Preference: Males

Previous Position: Journeymanwoman Healer

Current Position: Candidate

Appearance:
A surprising drop off from her brother's five foot eight, this dainty little thing is barely pushing five foot four. She is not the athletic type and she certainly wasn't built for it, with her short height, small frame, just enough muscle on her arms and legs to handle tough healing jobs. Her skin is tanned, a warm caramel color all over from her normally creamy shade. She has blue-black hair, long, straight, that is normally tied up for conveniency. Her complexion is clean; healers are pushed for cleansiness, and she clings to it. Her gray, stormy eyes tend to have flecks, or rather drops, of blue in them when she's feeling any emotion strongly.

Personality:
Rain really is a sweetheart. She is almost too innocent for her own good. She never has any malice in her gaze, never thinks anybody can do wrong. Very endearing and trustworthy, she has a healer's heart in more than one way. She's always there for you, a person you can open up to without worrying about having it blabbed, somebody who can give you some feedback, feedback that you know is right and isn't just what you want to hear. She knows the ways to cheer you up and get you back on your feet.

You can yell and scream at her all you want, but you'll never hear her raise her voice. Sure, she'll tell you to shut up, or that she doesn't want to hear it, but never will her voice raise louder than a calm one. She does curse, though. Hey, nobody can be perfect. And...this girl is quite sensitive. Sensitive to another person's feelings and her own. You can spew off curses and atrocities at her and it wouldn't hurt her a bit; call her an unloving pregnant dog and she'll break down right in front of you. It can sometimes surprise people what gets her to cry, but it doesn't take a lot.

History:
The first person that she ever saw, felt, was held by, was surprisingly not her parents. No, Umbra and Seran weren't the best of parents, and they weren't the first to hold their child. Her six year old brother, Keveran, was the one to hold her. She felt an attachment to him, a brother-sister bond that couldn't be broken. So, as she grew older, she became grown to him, and was he was always the one she went to whenever she had a problem, whenever she was teased, picked on, or just plain hurt. Not her parents.

She loves them to death, just like her brother, but she understands that they weren't- well, they would never- be ready for a child, for the responsibility. So she gave them as much slack as she could by turning to Keveran and her Uncle, Jern. When her brother was old enough, and he took her under his care, she was esctatic. Though it was a little tough, they were pretty all set in the hold, until her Uncle finally got Keveran to go to the Harper Hall. Glad that he was taking a chance for himself, she urged him to go, and then lived with Jern for a while. Until she got pulled into the healing craft, one that she was good at even before she went into it.

She stayed there for two years, around there. She quickly got the skills and the knowledge, and rose to Journeywoman. Rain did good at what she did; and then, when she was visiting her Uncle, she got searched. She hadn't hesitated and went, thinking that even though she was a candidate she could help the local healers if things got too out of hand. Her uncle told her that Keveran had already been searched the day before; he had no idea. She had smiled to herself and made sure they didn't cross paths.

When they did, she wanted to surprise the socks off him.

Position in Family: Youngest. Has an older brother, Keveran.

Pets:
Werewolf - A wolfhound like canine, with rusty brown fur with black lines down his neck and on his face. His paws are white, and he has some red brown streaks along his flanks. Very quiet, looming, and protective.

Alignment: Neither

Relation to Existing Character: Keveran, Brother


Wher Name:

Wher Appearance: This wher is one of the smallest in the Clutch, with a slender build, short wings, and narrow head. Her hide is a patchwork of teal green and forest green, surprisingly reminiscent of her egg’s pattern. This mosaic traces her entire form, although the forest green begins to predominate up her neck, and the only teal on her face is a splotch at the tip of her nose.

Wher Personality: Although diminutive in size, this wher makes her presence known in a subtler manner. She is uncommonly empathic for a wher, sensing pain in others and responding with a sweet desire to comfort. Despite being unable to communicate in words, she easily conveys her message through strong waves of emotion that will sometimes touch everyone in the room. When it comes to her handler, she is very trusting and complacent, without a doubt that she will be cared for and protected. This trust extends to all aspects of her life, as this wher is rarely afraid of anything. In interactions with other whers, this doesn’t make her bold, but she is quietly confident.

[Shikai]

Character Name: Keil (pronounced like Kyle)

Age: 17

Gender: Male

Preference: Females

Previous Position: Fisher apprentice

Current Position: Wher candidate

Appearance: Keil stands in at 6' even with a lean build. His eyes are a dark steely gray, like dark storm clouds. His hair is light brown that he wears short. His nose is a bit crooked from being broken in fights. He had a rugged handsomeness about him, not the pretty boy looks that girls swoon over, but the rough and tumble handsomeness. Long lashes frame his eyes, lashes that most girls would kill for, they soften the hardness of his face as do his full lips.

Personality: Keil is quiet and broody, rarely smiling. He likes to keep to the shadows, simply watching and listening to what goes on around him. If someone happens to get past his quiet, broody exterior they are likely to find a friendly person who is strongly loyal to those he considers friends and someone possessing a quiet strength that one can rely on at all times. He takes his time to think things through, often leaving someone thinking he isn't going to answer before giving his opinion or decision.

History: He was born to Karen and Byron. He was the their fourth and last child, his mother not able to have any more children after him because of age. His closest in age sibling was already twelve when he was born.

His parents lived at a small fishing hold and his father and two older brothers worked on the fishing ships while his mother and older sister worked on the docks, helping clean the catches that came in with the other women. His parents were loving enough, caring for him and providing for him.

As soon as he was old enough he was put to work helping on the docks and then on the ships themselves. He learned quickly and was soon helping his father and brothers bring in the nets. He enjoyed the hard work, feeling fulfilled by it.

Much unlike his siblings who were open and friendly, he was quiet and a real wall flower. He worked all the time, never taking time to play or rest even one rest days. His parents tried to persuade him to enjoy himself, but soon gave up when they saw he didn't enjoy doing the things others his age did.

One night, not long after his 17th birthing day celebration he was approached by someone, a mysterious man. It seemed that it wasn't just his family who noted his quiet, standoffishness, because this man whispered possibilities to him, about life in the weyr.

He was wary at first, after all this man had come from no where and was whispering of things that were simply tales right? But, then again he had seen the dragons in the skies, something that had been a tale as well. So after a long time of thought, Keil preferred to think things such as this through, he finally agreed to go to the weyr.

Position in Family: Keil is the youngest of four children, his parents had him late in life.

Pets: None yet.

Alignment: Loyalish


Wher Name: Keisk

Wher Appearance: Keisk does little to counter the stereotypes regarding whers, for her stout build lacks all of the feminine grace of a green dragon. She has a stocky, barrel-like chest, widespread limbs that are squared to support her, and wings that are strangely square in shape. Her neck is short, supporting a head that almost seems too large for her. Despite this, when she moves, Keisk manages to muster a surprising grace, flowing with a fluidity that belies her awkward form. Her hide is a greyish green colour, seemingly dull in the dim light of her typical night haunts. However, when light from a glow or the moon strikes her, the greyish colour reveals itself as a silvery sheen that resembles her egg.

Wher Personality: Despite her rough exterior, Keisk is unexpectedly soft in nature. She is a steady presence, providing reassurance and calm to her handler in stressful situations. There is also a quiet nobility to her; she will stand firmly by her instincts, either in the protection of others or in her occasional refusal to act when commanded. It is rare that this green ever gets worked up, but when she does, a fire seems to blaze in her whirling eyes, and she will act swiftly and decisively. Whoever faces her judgment at this time better hope she finds their behavior acceptable.

[Shikai]

Character Name: Shandar

Age: 18

Gender: Male

Preference: Both

Previous Position: Apprentice hold guard

Current Position: (Wher) Candidate

Appearance: Standing at 5’10, Shandar is tall enough to be intimidating without looking gawky. His build adds to this, for he is strong and well-muscled from turns of rigorous physical training. Shandar has naturally dark skin; a rich, bronze tone, with dark hair to match. It is difficult to tell if his hair is a very dark brown or a dull black, for it seems to have both shades intermixed. He almost never bothers with it beyond keeping it clean and doesn’t get it cut until it is long enough to be an annoyance, so it usually hangs down in long, wavy strands halfway between his ears and his shoulders. His eyes, almost perpetually narrowed in a glare, are hazel, a mottled blend of brown and green. Shandar’s overall appearance is usually rough and unkempt, due to a lack of effort on his part that stems from a complete lack of concern over what he looks like.

Personality: While it’s said that one can’t judge a book by its cover, in Shandar’s case, one’s first impressions are likely to be quite correct. He is as rough in manner as he is in appearance, and whether he has a natural complete lack of tact or simply doesn’t care enough about what others think of him to use it is anyone’s guess. Shandar is blunt and ill-mannered, saying what he wants regardless of how rude it may be. At least it can never be said that he is dishonest. Shandar tends to keep to himself rather than seek friends, as he had difficulty making them anyway. Besides, he doesn’t feel that he needs them, for he is independent and incurably stubborn, preferring to handle things on his own whenever possible. Even when he needs help, he is unlikely to seek it, insisting that he will be fine on his own no matter how hopeless the case. Shandar is anything but lazy, throwing himself immediately into whatever task he is given to get it done as quickly and efficiently as possible. The only time he acts in any way gentlemanly is when he likes someone, be they male or female. He isn’t averse to flirting, should someone take an interest in him that he reciprocates, although he would much prefer a serious relationship over a fling. It takes a lot for Shandar to fully open up to someone, as his policy has always been to keep his problems private. If someone manages to gain his friendship or more, they will find him an incredibly loyal friend, who can be greatly self-sacrificing for the sake of someone he cares about.

History: Shandar was born to Tiandar and Shala, the firstborn child of the newly married couple in a large, prosperous Southern Hold. The hold had suffered from raider attacks in the past, so the Lord Holders had created an order of guards to protect it, of which Tiandar was captain. Shala was a weaver, and a beautiful, though very fragile, young woman. The strain of Shandar’s birth was so great on her that the healers advised that she not attempt to bear another child, for the sake of her health. This didn’t prove to be a problem until five years after Shandar’s birth. Shala became pregnant again, and was determined to bring her baby into the world. After a grueling labor that stretched on for almost a day, she gave birth to a small girl, but at the cost of her life.

The child was named Shanti, and as Tiandar was busy with his duties to the hold and unable to raise an infant and a five year old on his own, the hold women looked after them for the most part. Shandar idolized his father, of whom he saw little, wanting to become a guard as well rather than be apprenticed in a craft. Pleased, Tiandar began teaching Shandar the ways of his occupation, including how to fight with and without a blade. In his spare time, Shandar played with Shanti, for he was very fond of his younger sister. However, as she aged, it became apparent that Shanti was not normal. She was prone to violent outbursts of emotion and even periods of delirium, in which not even Shandar could placate her. Even at the best of times, Shanti had little grasp on reality, and often seemed to live more in her mind than on Pern. The hold women begrudgingly continued to care for the child, but only as a favor to Tiandar, making no secret of their dislike for the mentally unstable little girl.

Shandar slowly began to adopt most of the duties of caring for his sister himself, as the cold attitudes of Shanti’s caretakers only distressed the girl greater. Dividing his time between learning to be a guard and caring for his sister, who naturally required a much greater amount of time than a normal child, Shandar didn’t make friends, having no time to play with the other hold children. Rather, he frequently found himself in scuffles with them in his sister’s name, for he was defensive of Shanti, and never hesitated to fight at any perceived insult to her, whether it was a query from a curious child asking him what was wrong with her, or more direct offenses of bullying the girl. The latter was a rare occurrence, as Shandar often kept her with him to keep an eye on her, and most children thought better of picking on the hold nutcase after a glare from her older brother. Shandar alone insisted that nothing was wrong with his beloved sister, although even he secretly knew that she wasn’t quite sane. After many a bruise and black eye on both sides, the children learned not to so much as mention the word ‘crazy’ around Shandar.

The two children aged – Shandar learning from his father and the other guards, and Shanti showing little improvement. Shandar attempted to get his sister apprenticed in a craft several times, but each effort proved to be a dismal failure. Even he was forced to give up eventually, so Shanti worked with the drudges in the kitchens when he couldn’t tend to her. She was greatly attached to her brother, and was a remarkably sweet and loving little girl when she was well. For Shandar, the good times with her were well worth the bad. Their lives proceeded with little change over the years, until Shandar was 17, and Shanti 12.

He was sparring with another boy, a fellow guard apprentice, while Shanti was supposed to be working in the kitchens. However, it was one of Shanti’s bad days, and the women had given up trying to keep her there or deal with her at all when she was in one of her periods of complete insanity. Shanti was wandering the hold, looking for her brother, and found him in what looked to be a fight. Not understanding that her brother was simply training, she called out to him, scared, and Shandar immediately turned around. Distracted, he didn’t block the blow his partner had been initiating just as Shanti spoke. The blade caught him on the shoulder, knocking him down, and the wound, while not a very serious cut, began to bleed. It was too much for Shanti, and her fragile hold on sanity completely snapped. The girl launched herself at Shandar’s sparring partner, biting him and digging her nails into his skin wherever she could, fighting like a feral animal. Before Shandar could get up to pull her off, the other boy flung her away, nursing the numerous scratches on his arms and face, and, shaken and angry, yelled at Shandar to keep his crazy sister away from him.

Shandar fervently worked to care for his sister, desperately trying to help her regain what precious little sanity she’d had, but though he stayed with her day and night, it was to no avail. Shanti had fallen permanently into a deranged, delirious state, not even recognizing her brother. Shandar begged his father to give him more time, rather than send her to the infirmary to be cared for by healers. Tiandar, while also greatly aggrieved by Shanti’s state, recognized that it was a hopeless case, and wasn’t about to let Shandar ruin his future by casting aside his aspirations to be a guard to care for the girl. He let the healers take her, instructing his son to let her go and move on with his own life. Though the healers, like Shandar, did their best for Shanti, they could not recover her sanity, and could only keep an eye on the girl and give her fellis when she was impossible to manage otherwise.

Shandar, however, refused to let his sister go. He considered her loss of sanity to be a personal failure. After all, he had considered her to be his charge, his responsibility, whether or not he had been officially told to tend to her. The boy continued to pay her regular visits, always hoping to find her condition improved, although he never did. Tiandar’s best efforts could not keep his son from Shanti, for as long as they were at the same hold, it seemed Shandar would find a way. When the dragonriders came on Search several months after the incident and proclaimed that Shandar was suitable, the boy actually turned down their offer, unwilling to leave his younger sister. Tiandar, however, heard what had happened, and spoke to the riders behind his son’s back, persuading them to take him to the weyr anyway. As much as it saddened him to see his only son leave, he could see it was tearing Shandar apart to stay where Shanti was, constantly reminded of how he had failed her. A new home would force Shandar to start anew, leaving the past behind in favor of a brigher future at the weyr. It didn’t take much to persuade the dragonriders to take Shandar, as Sitareh had instructed them to boost the candidate numbers however possible.

The boy protested greatly as the riders took him, disagreeing with his father that he had any potential to have a future as a dragonrider. In his opinion, he didn’t deserve a dragon. He had been responsible for his sister, and he had failed her. Why on Pern should he be entrusted with one of the precious creatures needed to fight the coming Threadfall? But Shandar had no choice in the matter, and had to bid his uncomprehending sister farewell before going between to Araelen Weyr.

Position in Family: Oldest of two.

Pets: None

Alignment: Undecided


Wher Name: Shask

Wher Appearance: On the smaller side for a brown, Shask could almost be mistaken for a blue, except for his striking hide. Similar to his egg, his hide is mostly dark brown, a shade resembling tree bark, but is struck through with fierce swirls of crimson red. It almost resembles a dust storm sweeping along his form, reaching the climax of its intensity at his wingtips, which appear to have been dripped in blood. A single red line, much like a tear drop, slides from his upper left eye ridge down around his jaw. His small form is well-proportioned, less brusque than most whers, with wings that almost look useable.

Wher Personality: It is immediately apparent that Shask’s personality matches his striking image uncomfortably well. He is cunning and sly, exhibiting a manipulative capacity one would think beyond whers. Whether it is in getting what he most desires from his handler, or in tricking his fellow whers, Shask demonstrates clearly who is most important in his world. He also enjoys creating conflict, not to be part of it, but to observe the amusing scene while it plays out. Occasionally, however, this may backfire, and the brown may find himself entangled in the conflict of his own creation. When it comes to any kind of a fight, and especially when defending his handler, Shask is vicious and quick, never holding back.

[Shikai]

Character Name: Keveran

Age: 22

Gender: Male

Preference: Females

Previous Position: Apprentice Harper

Current Position: Candidate

Appearance:
When you look up you see a tall, handsome man standing at a height of five foot eight. Bright, healthy peach skin covers a delicate face, pale lips and a few dark freckles on his left cheek. Thick, sturdy eyebrows arch over warm cinnamon- or perhaps it was copper- eyes as warm as a fire in a fireplace. Soft, straight brown hair is swept to either side of his face, parted to the side instead of the middle. Very slender, with barely visible muscles under comfy looking clothes, something you could easily just cuddle up to. All in all, Keveran is certainly not bad looking, and looks like a really tall teddy bear you want to squeeze to death.

Personality:
Keveran, to put it simply, is an extrovert gentlemen. He loves to talk, to meet people, to be with others. He's not an introvert in the least, and in fact, if he were to be stuck by himself he'd probably have a meltdown. Keveran loves to be with others and to have fun, him having the very easy-going and easy to approach aura around him. With sensitive eyes, a welcoming smile and two arms that give the greatest hugs, who couldn't resist?

And although he has his moments of anger, frustration, and general fits, he's fairly well with keeping his temper in check. When it comes to Rain, however, you can see a dramatic change; those sparkling warm eyes turn soft, he gains a very protective, understanding yet easy-going still attitude. He loves Rain to death, more than even himself; more than half of Pern. He may be your best friend for a turn, but once you harm his sister, you're toast in his eyes. While he's very caring and understanding, he's very firm and set with his sister, and you do not get away with something like harming her. Ever. And she is the only reason he will ever fight, might I add.

History:
His parents, two holders names Umbra and Seran, weren't...good parents. Keveran knew that at the start. They weren't abusive, or angry, nor were they in fights with each other all the time; in fact, they were fairly close to each other. But they weren't close to him. Or, when he was six, his younger sister. They just couldn't understand the ways of bringing up a child. It didn't affect him in the least; he still loved his parents, but he knew they just weren't parental material. He grew up without many restrictions, and very unsure instructions. He was a good kid- he didn't get into trouble- so there wasn't any real problem with him. His uncle, Jern, was the one that kept an eye on him and taught him to be a gentleman and a good man. He saw that his nephew had a good talent; he could play gitar. While he could sing, he hated to, only when he was alone or with Rain. But he absolutely loved playing the gitar.

When he turned 17, he took responsibility of Rain, as his parents hadn't changed their poor parenting skills as of then. He took care of her, unable to do much, until finally Jern took over and told him to head to the Harper Hall. Knowing that his uncle would be perfect with taking care of Rain, he left after some hesitation. He was apprenticed and stayed there for a few years. But finally he realized that he wasn't cut out for the Harpers; not because of his lack of love for music, but he only stuck to one instrument, one aspect of it. After realizing that, he left the hall and returned to his uncle, to find that his sister had left. He wasn't surprised when he found that she had gone to the Healer craft; she was the healing type. So he stuck around with Jern for a while.

It was when he turned nineteen that he was searched by a Search rider of Araelen Weyr. He was quite surprised that he was chosen, but decided to give it a shot. He agreed to leave and he did so, bringing but a few things (including his gitar, obviously). He still hasn't found out that Rain was also searched and is at the weyr also. Kev still thinks she's at the Healer Craft. Poor, poor boy...

Position in Family: Eldest. Has a younger sister, Rain.

Pets: None

Alignment: Neither

Relation to Existing Character: Rain, Sister


Wher Name:

Wher Appearance: Pale as the moon in daylight, this wher is nearly transparent with his wispy cotton blue hide. At times it may seem as though the only feature rooting the small and rather wimpy looking creature to this plane is its steely gray-tinted paws, fading from dark silvery-blue to the lighter, whiter, version as it snakes up his relatively thin limbs. This anchoring color, however, tends only to make the wher appear like a specter in the night, ghosting through the dark world of whers with his oddly serpent-like stride.

Wher Personality: This particularly reserved wher prefers solitude above all else, often interacting solely with his handler and no other. He’s broody and prone to a gloomy disposition, frequently requiring encouragement from his handler to lighten up. Everything is a serious matter, and when provoked, this wher’s temper can flare without warning. However, he’s certainly more brain than impulse, and calculates before striking, his mind sharper than most of his kind. It’s difficult to gain this one’s trust, but an ally is not easily forgotten.

[Shikai]

Character Name:
Raina

Age:
Sixteen

Gender:
Female

Preference:
Both, with a heavy tendency toward male.

Previous Position:
Farmers daughter

Current Position:
Wher-candidate

Appearance:
This girl has odd coloring. There's no other way to explain her. Her hair is a dark, smoky black color that looks like a sword that has suffered too long under the heat of the blacksmith's fires. Her eyes are brown, but of a mahogany so vivid that it could almost be mistaken for a deep violet at first glance. Her skin is deathly pale. If one could not see the flush of her cheeks and the obvious delight that was always present in her dancing eyes, then she could easily have been mistaken for a corpse, and in fact once was during a prolonged illness. Yet despite these oddities, she exudes a vibrant, alluring presence that is a startling contrast to her appearance. Her rather small stature gives her the appearance of being permanently child-like, and though her personality gives her an obviously open, good type of person, this is starkly opposed by the darkness of her looks.

Personality:
Naive and trusting in the extreme. Raina has a 'happy-go-lucky' disposition. She's always laughing, and looks for ways to make others see something humorous in every situation, even if there really isn't anything. It's easy to find her annoyingly idiotic, since her attitude towards life is mild, and that there is some good in everything, but if you take the time to what she's saying, instead of how she's saying it, you're likely to find that she's more intelligent then it would first appear. Though nearly a head shorter than most of her fellows, she always manages to get noticed, mostly because she has no fear of walking right up to someone and saying hello.

History:
Mother: Saleena
Father: David - Farmer
Siblings:
-Nicola - Female - Sixteen turns

Raina's childhood was very isolated. She and her family resided on a farm almost a weeks journey from the nearest settlement, and a week and a half from the nearest hold. Needless to say, she did not get a lot of interaction with the 'true' world. This accounts for her naive nature, and also the fact that she doesn't see someone as 'bad' unless she is absolutely forced to. How did she end up at the weyr, you ask? Well, that's simple enough. A searcher was taking a break flight, they fly much faster than the average person can travel, you know, and happened to encounter her. That was almost a year ago. She was one of the candidates who did not Impress at the Hatching. But that was alright with her. She's just as happy that she's at the weyr.

Position in Family:
'Youngest' of the twins.

Pets:
Feline - Kaiye - A dark silver grey, rather large, male, docile, has no voice box.

Alignment:
Unknown - She doesn't know about the rebellion.

Relation to Existing Character:
None.


Wher Name: Raisk

Wher Appearance: Raisk is slightly smaller than average for a gold, such that she barely surpasses the larger bronzes in shoulder height. However, although short, she is long and sinuous, with her elongated neck holding up an arrow-shaped head. Her hide is a burnished gold colour, tarnished almost to red all along her spine. The reddish-gold colour continues to streak up her long neck, ending in a splotch much like an arrow point between her whirling eyes. In contrast, her underbelly is a pale gold, as if she’s worn off the richness of her hide while lying down.

Wher Personality: Although all golds have a commanding aura about them, Raisk is a mistress of seduction. She can charm anyone, wher or human, with a sweet innocence that seems uncommon to a regal gold. And, of course, it isn’t entirely what it seems; far from innocent, this gold is entirely aware of her cunning wiles and uses them to greatest effect. This isn’t done with the coldness of a manipulator; rather, she enjoys having others fawn after her. The attention is what she craves, and the power that lies in it, but she also just wants to be loved. In turn, she is quite willing to bestow her love upon others, although she reserves truest adoration for a special few, the first of whom is always her handler. If she is ever rejected, she will seek the comfort of her handler’s reassurances, for such a dismissal would fill her with great doubt.

[Shikai]

Character Name: Baryn

Age: 22 turns

Gender: male

Preference: neither -- he has sworn off "relationships"

Previous Position: escapee from a detention facility

Current Position: fugitive

Appearance: Baryn is mid-height for a male, perhaps 5'10", with dark skin and what on Terra would be considered (all or part) Asian features. He has blue-black hair that he wears long and straight, nearly to his shoulders, and sometimes ties back with a strip of black hide. His complexion is very dark, partly from genetics, and partly from a working in the fields, for he began life born to farm drudges, and that would have been his fate ... had his temper and the desire for hot revenge not gotten the better of him. Baryn's eyes are so black that one cannot distinguish where the irises end, and the pupils begin. He is broad across the shoulders, more from hard work and built muscles than inheritance, and narrow in the waist, with thickly corded muscles on arms and legs. Baryn's most distinguishing features, however, are the deep scar where his left ear used to be, which runs nearly to the bone along that jaw line, and the missing index finger on his right hand.

Personality: Baryn is a sullen, silent individual, who speaks only when absolutely necessary, and does not interact with other humans, for he is certain that they all hold only their own self-interest in their hearts, and would as soon kill you as love you. He is dark, perhaps even frightening. His temper flares easily and strikes swiftly, and he rarely stops to think before he defends himself. Baryn will never start a fight ... he is not interested in others enough to bother ... but has been known to finish fights quickly and decisively. Deep within, Baryn seeks power ... not in order to yield it over others, but in order to build a wall around himself. This is why, when he heard in the shadows and tunnels that there were dragonriders on Pern again, and several Hatchings had occurred, he decided that he would attempt to possess the largest and most fierce dragon he could attain, for with a great dragon bonded to him, no man would dare challenge him again.

History: Born to a farm-drudge family, Baryn was the middle son of three. His mother was Del and his sire Barl, hard workers that spent their days from dawn to dark in the fields or working in the farm holder's home. His eldest brother Rim and he were sent to the fields when they were very young, but the youngest, Rune, was sickly as an infant and weak as a child. He was sent, instead, into the manor hold to serve in the kitchens ... hard work, but not as grueling as field work. Baryn was in his seventeenth turn the day Rune died. A new taskmaster had taken over the hold drudges, and the boy had collapsed under the weight of a heavy load. The master, rather than giving the child a normal beating, let into him cruelly, beating him about the head. Words travel fast -- and it reached Baryn, who was hauling a load of cane in from the fields, that Rune had been killed by the taskmaster.

It was that taskmaster's last day on the job. With his huge cane-cutting knife in hand, Baryn burst into the hold, found the man, and attacked him. The taskmaster was a head taller than Baryn and twice as wide, with ten turns of experience over the boy, but Baryn was fueled by love for his sibling, and hatred for the murderer who had taken him. The taskmaster lunged for Baryn's face, slicing off his left ear and digging his knife to the bone along his jaw ... but Baryn took the opportunity to drive forward rather than retreat. The cane knife sunk to the hilt in the man's heart, and slipped in the blood as Baryn withdrew it, slicing his index finger nearly clear through.

Blood loss quickly overcame Baryn, and when he came to, he was in a detention cell, his finger fully amputated, his head and jaw bandaged. For three turns he worked beside other murderers and thieves, doing the same kinds of work he'd done as a drudge, but with ankles chained together and under the watch of a prison guard.

And then, one night, as the work crew was being loaded back into the wagon to be returned to the detention hold, several of the other prisoners attacked the guards. In the confusion that ensued, Baryn got his hands on a set of keys, undid his shackles, and vanished into the growing dark.

He went underground, stealing what he needed to survive, showing his mutilated face to no man unless there was no other option. He began dressing in desert garb, and posing as a nomad when it became necessary to interact at all, for the folds of the head-cowl hid his easily recognizable scars. The little company he kept, he did so of necessity, and his rare companions were of the lowest kind. Baryn learned to have eyes in the back of his head, and to be continually on his guard. He was forced to kill more than once to keep his own life while on the run, and developed the defensive skills of a jungle cat in the process.

When he heard that the dragons had returned, Baryn decided that he would try his fate at the Weyr, and had been making his way there with caution and guile ever since. He is found at the gates right around the time that the golden Wher, Neisk, is due to clutch.

Position in Family: Middle son of three

Pets: none

Alignment: Baryn is loyal to no one


Wher Appearance: This behemoth of a wher will shortly grow into one of the largest in the clutch. Blazing auburn-touched bronze licks at his body, mottled like half-cooled lava. A mask the color of coal runs the length of his spine and covers his face like a charred skull, lighter magma red ringing his eyes and jaw. From there, the molten rock drips down his stomach, the inside of his legs, and the tip of his tail. The same blazing color scorches the undersides of his wings, appendages larger than the average wher though by no means capable of flight. This is a powerful, and holds himself with due pride.

Wher Personality: Proud to the core, this wher blazes with as much strength, ambition and intensity as his flame-colored hide. He’ll unabashedly lord over those around him, assuming command in any circumstance. Attempts to undermine him are dealt with swiftly, callously, and at any means necessary. If there’s one thing this wher cannot stand, it is insubordination. Rarely is this titan dissuaded from his goals, and even less frequently will he sit idly by in times of turmoil. He’s stubborn and unwavering in his ideals, cold to those who go against his will, but not necessarily a malevolent creature.

[Shikai]

Character Name: Emmeline

Age: 17

Gender: Female

Preference: she has no preference. their genitalia isn't high up on her list of priorities when considering a potential mate.

Previous Position: hold-brat

Current Position: whercandidate

Appearance: Her eyes are a greenish brown colour in a perfect almond shape. Emme's hair is naturally blond. She has a heart-shaped face with a rather small nose. Her cheek bones stand out a bit, making her eyes seem deep-set in her face. Emme will weigh somewhere between ninety and one hundred and twenty pounds depending on her recurring mood for the period. If she's in a depressive spiral she'll reach her peak. Otherwise, she may not eat for days at a time. Emme looks surprisingly innocent. Just looking at her, you would have no idea what goes on inside her head.

Personality: To be completely frank, Emmeline is one of the most annoying people you will probably ever meet. She will keep talking right through her own funeral, which, by the way, she's already planned. More often than not, she's busy being loud and obnoxious rather than doing things like work. It's not that she means to be loud; she just is. When people tell her she's yelling, she'll just smile at them and say something about projecting her voice or remind them that she's an actor in her free time.

Despite her outgoing habits, she has a very low self-esteem. She's acutely aware of how many people dislike her eccentricities. She uses self-deprecation as a form of stand-up comedy for friends and enemies alike, earning herself the title of both class clown and village idiot. She rationalizes it as boosting other people's self-esteem. In the process, she grinds herself into the ground and fully believes what she says about herself.

Emmeline can be ridiculously intelligent when she actually bothers to think. As a kid, she was always getting praise for her intelligence, much to the chagrin of some of her friends. She just has no faith in her own intelligence.

Emme's a bit on the angry side. There are times when she'll just explode, and even she doesn't understand why. She writes it off as the standard teenage angst she hates herself for but makes no effort to rationalize her anger of the mail coming late or a friend not answering the door immediately when she knocks.

Emmeline is constantly in need of affection and attention, although she'll never admit it. When she first meets someone, she'll immediately cling to them for all she's worth. She can't stand being alone for longer than moments at a time, and it bothers her if someone leaves.

Emme spends a large portion of her time watching herself live. It's like she's floating in a tiny, isolated corner of her brain, directing the play of her life. She feels safer that way than if she were actually living it. That's one of the reason she hates doing things like thinking which require her to come back into a focused being rather than the drifting she's so fond of.

One of the major reasons for Emme's outgoing behaviour is her complete inability to sit still or focus for more than a few minutes at a time. Despite her intelligence, she never got very good marks in her education simply because she got distracted by everything in sight. If she could sit still without wriggling in her seat or playing with something on table or chewing on her pencil, she might focus a little bit better, but she has no intention of stopping her constant activity.

Emme never likes to complain about anything. Both physical and mental pain are internalized and hidden from the world. Although she feels lesser physical pain than others, she does feel some. She doesn't complain about it, though, and it annoys her to no end when other people complain about being in pain. This is especially true if she knows she's suffering from a worse ailment and she's not complaining. In the same way, she'll never tell anyone about her emotional pain.

Emme's convinced that the world would be better off without her. Thus, she has a desire to die which she is consistently pushing down. The only reason she never tried to kill herself was because of the vow she made to a friend when she was small that she would never hurt herself. She figured that it was the only promise that really mattered, so it was the only one she'd better damned keep.

She's always aware of what she's doing and what she ought to be doing. If there's something she shouldn't do, she won't do it. It goes back to the promise, but she has a self-control that would surprise a recovered alcoholic selling his drink of choice. Even if she has a severe compulsion to kill herself or someone else or to snort a cup of something foul through her nasal passages just to see if it's as good of a high as they always said, she won't do it.

Emmeline has one intense and irrational fear. Well, she has several intense and irrational fears. But one is more irrational than the rest. She's terrified of any kind of mental intervention. If anyone suggests she see someone about her quirks, she'll fly at them in one of her odd and fleeting rages. The only reason she would tolerate one would be if someone she loved managed to convince her that it was her idea to go see one.

One of Emmeline's peculiar quirks is that she never cries. She cried when she was small, but she just stopped crying. She hasn't cried in years, but it doesn't strike her as being odd in the least. She's irritated by people who cry constantly, because she no longer sees the necessity of tears.

People like to describe her as different. What they mean is that she's a complete nonconformist. Not in a rebellious way where she wants to make people angry so much as she just doesn't want to fit into the social norms and expectations because she thinks they're ridiculous.

If Emmeline doesn't think something will violate her promise and it's in any way dangerous, she'll do it. If it will cause pain without ruining the promise, she'll do it. As a result, she chews on her cuticles and lips and begs to ride on dragons even though she's afraid of heights. Just because she needs to do it. The pain is calming, and the fear is what she deserves.

Whenever she's not doing anything, and usually when she is as well, Emmeline is bored. She's constantly waiting to do something fun and exciting, and when she is, she's bored with it. Her overly developed sense of boredom has never been tamed, and so she's always seeking more fun entertainment.

Emmeline is really a small child inside. She loves to refer to herself in third person and call her parents Mommy and Daddy and beg for the pet she'll never get. She also tends to see things in black and white, in extremes. If she hates you, it's passionately. If she loves you, it's passionately. There's no in between.

Not really a compulsive liar, Emmeline is known to tell the truth. When it suits her, that is. She's apt to neglect details that she deems irrelevant or need to know. She won't lie to you outright unless she's hiding something very important, or someone else's secret. Her friends and even her enemies can pretty much depend on her to cover their asses if need be. That includes lying for them if it's necessary.

Although she's the life of most of the parties, she can seem like a cold-hearted person if a person doesn't know her well enough to realize that just because she doesn't show extreme emotion to his statements doesn't mean she isn't listening.

Emmeline will never talk about herself if she can help it. It gives people a chance to find her weaknesses, and she's afraid they won't like her anymore. If that happens, they'll leave her, and she'll have to do something drastic to bring them back. She doesn't like having to do anything drastic, so she'd rather not talk about herself and start the chain reaction.

History: Ric, father, 60 turns, retired farm-worker on an obscure hold
Amel, mother, 48 turns, kitchen-worker on same hold
Ryanne, brother, 14 turns, newly acquainted farm-worker

Emme's family was all nice and happy until her brother got sick. Then things got weird. Then she got involved in a small movement among the teens of the hold in which they were basically only allowed to associate with each other and immediate family. After breaking out, she fell in love with her best friend, and they ended up sleeping together. Her mother wasn't too cool with that for the simple reason that she didn't like the boy, and she cut off the pair from ever seeing each other. After Emme jumped off of a small cliff nearby, Amel declared that she'd had enough of her troublesome daughter and sent her off to the weyr in hopes that she'd get some form of education or at least get killed so the woman could go back to living the normal life she always wanted. When she got there, she was immediately interrogated by a strange man who eventually dragged her down to a small cave that could be called barracks only if you were being very generous. That was how she found out she was to be a candidate for a watchwher.

Position in Family: oldest of two

Pets: none

Alignment: rebel through and through


Wher Appearance: This wher is a confusing, swirling mixture of dark cerulean blue and sky blue. His limbs are the only consistently colored part of him to be found, and even the dark blue on these is offset by bright swirls of light blue on each ankle. His muzzle is also dominated by light blue. This wher is decidedly on the small side, even for his color, yet it is clear from but a look at him that he will be remarkably fast. His build is slender, especially for a wher, but as muscular as a jungle feline. His legs are on the long side, giving him some height to help compensate for his lack of size, and his wings are also long and well shaped. This wher is built for speed in every way, and his coloring only serves to make him look faster, since the swirls seem to sweep back along his form.

Wher Personality: This wher’s personality is, in a word, volatile. He lacks ambition and obeys the orders of his superiors without question, but when left to his own devices, the darker side of his personality emerges. Very cunning and conniving, he lacks morals and wouldn’t hesitate to take something that didn’t belong to him. In fact, he enjoys doing so. At times his playfulness is more innocent, which may show with a prank on his handler or a clutchmate, although never a bronze or gold. While he is generally upbeat, his mood may shift quickly and without warning.