Post by Z'ris and Kardenzoth on Jun 25, 2010 1:11:56 GMT -5
Name: Z'ris
Age: 24 turns
Gender: Male
Sexual Preference: Bisexual
Rank: Dragonrider (nothin' fancy)
Physical Description
Lean and fit, that would be the first couple of words that come to mind when someone latches their gaze onto Z'ris. He is the aftermath of the conditions he has dealt with throughout the turns. Economically built, his muscles are toned and nicely defined. However, they don't bulge or scream for attention. Z'ris is subtle, even in appearance. He moves with grace and confidence.
Z'ris's face is long and a bit oval shaped. His cheekbones are sharply defined along with his jawline. It's not necessarily rugged, but shapely enough to be manly. His lips are often wind chapped, but expressive. In fact, Z'ris's smile is one of his nicest features. When he has reason to flash it at someone.
His eyes are deep set and almost perpetually kept in a half-open/half closed state. They're deep blue in color, often only noticed when sunlight hits directly into the iris to brighten it up. His hair is kept shaggy, but relatively short. Dark brown with blonde highlights and thick, it's never really slapped into alignment or brushed into something remotely neat. His complexion is on the paler side, living at High Reaches easily does that to a person, tanning isn't exactly a priority there.
Avatar:
Celebrity Name for Face Claim
Duncan James
Character Personality:
There is something particularly strange about Z'ris. He is someone who is meticulous and calculating. He keeps everything filed away in his mind, everything has to be filed away. His organization is outstanding, and if anything slips up, he'll immediately find somewhere else to categorize said mishap. He likes things to be in order, chaos is something which send shivers dancing along his precious, sensitive vertebrae. He is a serious man, someone who doesn't take things lightly at all. Being careful has kept him alive thus far, and he plans to stay that way. Although he's careful and serious, that can't make the man shy or soft-spoken, oh no.
Z'ris is talkative enough. He may not be the initiator of a conversation, but if you open the door he'll walk right in and pour everything out that's bubbling over in a froth within his busy, maybe even over reactive, mind. He is intelligent, and sometimes he's unable to keep his strange, rambling thoughts to himself. He tends to chatter on when he talks at times, but a quick word or question will usually snap him back into his right mind and remind him that time is of the essence. Z'ris is a man who is constantly running out of time. He's running out of time to talk, to clearly explain things, he's running out of time to read, to study, and to learn. The one thing the man wants more than anything else is more time.
Romantically the man is anything but smooth. When he gets nervous he stutters, and when he's around someone he might like, he gets nervous. The dragonrider's eagerness to gab on and this nervous twitch is a horrible comparison, and he often makes a fool of himself. It's in times of great emotion where he might be able to explain himself, or to pull--out of nowhere--some dashingly fitting move or word that pieces everything together and he accidentally looks rather elegant. Elegance isn't something Z'ris is too familiar with. He's familiar with hard work and that seems to be the only thing that really pays off.
Character Background:
Zehiris was born into the lower caverns of High Reaches Weyr. His father had been a brownrider, and his mother had been one of the members of the Weyrfolk there. She was no one of rank, no one of importance, and certainly no one special. His childhood was rather boring, to be completely and brutally honest. He didn't have any major hardships whatsoever, and the death of his mother wasn't even too traumatic. Growing up in the lower caverns gave him the ability to learn from many mother figures, and he was mature for his age as he grew. He wasn't one of the most popular boys, and was far more interested in learning rather than trying to steal bubbly pies or flasks of wine.
He was studious and, again, quite hardworking. He considers himself lucky for having an eventless childhood. Although he never really knew his father, he never really disliked him either. He had learned of the ways of a dragonrider, and the busy lives that they had lived to keep their Weyr safe, and most important of all--Zehiris understood that. Understanding is what made him a worthy candidate when the Weyr invited the younger weyrfolk to stand at the Hatchings. He didn't Impress his first time, or his second or third, to be quite clear. Although his ego took quite a blow, that didn't cause his focus and determination to waver.
He didn't honestly know if he did want to Impress, perhaps he wasn't cut out for this, and his life would be dedicated to keeping records or something of that sort. The answer to his brief turmoil came in the form of a zipping, fast blue who practically burst from his shell and bowled over a few of the male candidates to get to Zehiris. Z'ris, now, found himself a Weyrling, paired with an energetic and talkative blue who had big plans for the world. Z'ris excelled in weyrlinghood, not because he was the best or the most talented, but because he practiced vigorously, he gave it his all, and he really tried. Graduating to a rider was a grand day, and rider life seemed to come at ease to Z'ris. Trouble only started the day Pern seemed to break apart.
Dragon
Dragon name: Kardenzoth
Dragon color & appearance:
The blue is large for his size, at least for a blue he is, reaching an impressive 29 feet in length. The blue is in excellent shape, and takes care of himself with pristine precision. The beast is long, that's easy to say, and it almost seems like those wings of his are a big too-large for his lithe body. As a hatchling the difference was much more notable, but within the past few turns he has seemed to shape right up. His coloration is that of a deep, rich cerulean. This tone is only broken up by flecks--or freckles, if you will--of light cyan dappled over his maw, forelegs, and down the curve of his spine. Kardenzoth does like his hide to shine, so he's quite demanding when it comes to oiling.
Dragon age:
9 Turns - Rayfirith by Bronze Arcoth
Dragon personality:
First thing is first, this blue will really let you know he's there. The dragon is personable and far more outgoing than his rider is. The dragon enjoys, well, absolutely anything, for the most part. He's a lively and energetic fellow, always up for something to do, be it merely wing practice or showing off with his aerial tricks. The blue is amiable, and doesn't really hold grudges that well at all--that would be due to, of course, the horrible memory that he had (like most dragons). He knows the names of riders and their bonded's rather well, but shards, anything beyond that and he'll have trouble recalling what it was. The beast does have a somber side, however, and it's during these moments where he does shine in with a bit of comfort to his rider and those around.
Roleplay Sample
"Crackdust." Z'ris mumbled the words through numb lips as he rolled back over on his bed. He was safe within his Weyr, and he shouldn't be bothered by the sounds of the Weyrfolk. In fact, it seemed just a bit odd that he could hear them bustling about. His lithe fingers picked at his pillow, pulling it swiftly from under his head and smashing it right back on it. The noise was muffled a bit, at least, and that was enough for the bluerider to try and get some more rest. He had been up late, succumbed to the wonders of the record room as he lost himself within the pages there. Wing practice wasn't until later in the morning, and he'd be up for then fine, but just right then, he really would appreciate some sleep.
It was the rumble of his belongings and bed that turned him over again, he lifted up the pillow to shoot out a warning glare from one sleep-ridden eye. The gaze was, of course, meant for his dragon. The blue, however, was not in sight. Kar you better not be goofing off, I don't want to be asleep in your straps during wing training today. He groaned aloud then, rolling over and it was not too long before another shake rattled his weyr. Kar! No response from the dragon. If that wasn't a sign he was goofing off, then Z'ris was completely lost. He sat up then, his hair sticking in every which-way angle as he looked around, his eyes narrowed as he searched for the blue beast.
Z'rismine the mountains are shaking.
What was that in Kardenzoth's tone? Apprehension?
Something in Z'ris clicked, and he bolted upright from his bed. His head was light for a moment at the sudden movement, but that didn't stop him from clambering towards his dresser and pulling out his riding gear instantly. Something wasn't right, something pulled at his instincts and stepped on his spine with skeleton fingers. This wasn't right at all. It was moments before he skidded to the door of his weyr and burst open into the hall. Chaos was what met his eye. Weyrfolk from the lower caverns had swarmed up through the Weyr and were attempting to wake every dragonrider door by door.
And not one of them spoke the word Thread.
Terror gripped Z'ris' lungs as he turned and skidded over to the ledge of his weyr, looking out over the bristly cold mountain range. Once he had cherished this small weyr so much simply because of the view it had of the mountain range that High Reaches was settled upon. Now, though, the view was still breath-taking, but not in quite the same way. Cracks were in the mountainside, and it was after another good shake that part of the range split wide open, and, oh shards, was that fire that burst through?
"Kar, to the weyr, now." Z'ris was in the midst of trying to figure out where his blue exactly was, and his though pattern was interrupted by something much more disheartening. The death-keen suddenly started up throughout the Weyr, dragons trumpeting their sorrowful mourning as one of their kind passed on. Kardenzoth was at the ledge, keening as he landed. It took a stagger from the rider to finally get to his dragon. The time it took for him to tighten the riding straps seemed like ages, as if his body was moving through molasses, but finally it did end--about two more dragon deaths later.
What are we going to do?
"Anything we can." There was a note of near hopelessness in Z'ris' voice as he patted the blue's back. This wasn't going to end well, he feared.
Age: 24 turns
Gender: Male
Sexual Preference: Bisexual
Rank: Dragonrider (nothin' fancy)
Physical Description
Lean and fit, that would be the first couple of words that come to mind when someone latches their gaze onto Z'ris. He is the aftermath of the conditions he has dealt with throughout the turns. Economically built, his muscles are toned and nicely defined. However, they don't bulge or scream for attention. Z'ris is subtle, even in appearance. He moves with grace and confidence.
Z'ris's face is long and a bit oval shaped. His cheekbones are sharply defined along with his jawline. It's not necessarily rugged, but shapely enough to be manly. His lips are often wind chapped, but expressive. In fact, Z'ris's smile is one of his nicest features. When he has reason to flash it at someone.
His eyes are deep set and almost perpetually kept in a half-open/half closed state. They're deep blue in color, often only noticed when sunlight hits directly into the iris to brighten it up. His hair is kept shaggy, but relatively short. Dark brown with blonde highlights and thick, it's never really slapped into alignment or brushed into something remotely neat. His complexion is on the paler side, living at High Reaches easily does that to a person, tanning isn't exactly a priority there.
Avatar:
Celebrity Name for Face Claim
Duncan James
Character Personality:
There is something particularly strange about Z'ris. He is someone who is meticulous and calculating. He keeps everything filed away in his mind, everything has to be filed away. His organization is outstanding, and if anything slips up, he'll immediately find somewhere else to categorize said mishap. He likes things to be in order, chaos is something which send shivers dancing along his precious, sensitive vertebrae. He is a serious man, someone who doesn't take things lightly at all. Being careful has kept him alive thus far, and he plans to stay that way. Although he's careful and serious, that can't make the man shy or soft-spoken, oh no.
Z'ris is talkative enough. He may not be the initiator of a conversation, but if you open the door he'll walk right in and pour everything out that's bubbling over in a froth within his busy, maybe even over reactive, mind. He is intelligent, and sometimes he's unable to keep his strange, rambling thoughts to himself. He tends to chatter on when he talks at times, but a quick word or question will usually snap him back into his right mind and remind him that time is of the essence. Z'ris is a man who is constantly running out of time. He's running out of time to talk, to clearly explain things, he's running out of time to read, to study, and to learn. The one thing the man wants more than anything else is more time.
Romantically the man is anything but smooth. When he gets nervous he stutters, and when he's around someone he might like, he gets nervous. The dragonrider's eagerness to gab on and this nervous twitch is a horrible comparison, and he often makes a fool of himself. It's in times of great emotion where he might be able to explain himself, or to pull--out of nowhere--some dashingly fitting move or word that pieces everything together and he accidentally looks rather elegant. Elegance isn't something Z'ris is too familiar with. He's familiar with hard work and that seems to be the only thing that really pays off.
Character Background:
Zehiris was born into the lower caverns of High Reaches Weyr. His father had been a brownrider, and his mother had been one of the members of the Weyrfolk there. She was no one of rank, no one of importance, and certainly no one special. His childhood was rather boring, to be completely and brutally honest. He didn't have any major hardships whatsoever, and the death of his mother wasn't even too traumatic. Growing up in the lower caverns gave him the ability to learn from many mother figures, and he was mature for his age as he grew. He wasn't one of the most popular boys, and was far more interested in learning rather than trying to steal bubbly pies or flasks of wine.
He was studious and, again, quite hardworking. He considers himself lucky for having an eventless childhood. Although he never really knew his father, he never really disliked him either. He had learned of the ways of a dragonrider, and the busy lives that they had lived to keep their Weyr safe, and most important of all--Zehiris understood that. Understanding is what made him a worthy candidate when the Weyr invited the younger weyrfolk to stand at the Hatchings. He didn't Impress his first time, or his second or third, to be quite clear. Although his ego took quite a blow, that didn't cause his focus and determination to waver.
He didn't honestly know if he did want to Impress, perhaps he wasn't cut out for this, and his life would be dedicated to keeping records or something of that sort. The answer to his brief turmoil came in the form of a zipping, fast blue who practically burst from his shell and bowled over a few of the male candidates to get to Zehiris. Z'ris, now, found himself a Weyrling, paired with an energetic and talkative blue who had big plans for the world. Z'ris excelled in weyrlinghood, not because he was the best or the most talented, but because he practiced vigorously, he gave it his all, and he really tried. Graduating to a rider was a grand day, and rider life seemed to come at ease to Z'ris. Trouble only started the day Pern seemed to break apart.
Dragon
Dragon name: Kardenzoth
Dragon color & appearance:
The blue is large for his size, at least for a blue he is, reaching an impressive 29 feet in length. The blue is in excellent shape, and takes care of himself with pristine precision. The beast is long, that's easy to say, and it almost seems like those wings of his are a big too-large for his lithe body. As a hatchling the difference was much more notable, but within the past few turns he has seemed to shape right up. His coloration is that of a deep, rich cerulean. This tone is only broken up by flecks--or freckles, if you will--of light cyan dappled over his maw, forelegs, and down the curve of his spine. Kardenzoth does like his hide to shine, so he's quite demanding when it comes to oiling.
Dragon age:
9 Turns - Rayfirith by Bronze Arcoth
Dragon personality:
First thing is first, this blue will really let you know he's there. The dragon is personable and far more outgoing than his rider is. The dragon enjoys, well, absolutely anything, for the most part. He's a lively and energetic fellow, always up for something to do, be it merely wing practice or showing off with his aerial tricks. The blue is amiable, and doesn't really hold grudges that well at all--that would be due to, of course, the horrible memory that he had (like most dragons). He knows the names of riders and their bonded's rather well, but shards, anything beyond that and he'll have trouble recalling what it was. The beast does have a somber side, however, and it's during these moments where he does shine in with a bit of comfort to his rider and those around.
Roleplay Sample
"Crackdust." Z'ris mumbled the words through numb lips as he rolled back over on his bed. He was safe within his Weyr, and he shouldn't be bothered by the sounds of the Weyrfolk. In fact, it seemed just a bit odd that he could hear them bustling about. His lithe fingers picked at his pillow, pulling it swiftly from under his head and smashing it right back on it. The noise was muffled a bit, at least, and that was enough for the bluerider to try and get some more rest. He had been up late, succumbed to the wonders of the record room as he lost himself within the pages there. Wing practice wasn't until later in the morning, and he'd be up for then fine, but just right then, he really would appreciate some sleep.
It was the rumble of his belongings and bed that turned him over again, he lifted up the pillow to shoot out a warning glare from one sleep-ridden eye. The gaze was, of course, meant for his dragon. The blue, however, was not in sight. Kar you better not be goofing off, I don't want to be asleep in your straps during wing training today. He groaned aloud then, rolling over and it was not too long before another shake rattled his weyr. Kar! No response from the dragon. If that wasn't a sign he was goofing off, then Z'ris was completely lost. He sat up then, his hair sticking in every which-way angle as he looked around, his eyes narrowed as he searched for the blue beast.
Z'rismine the mountains are shaking.
What was that in Kardenzoth's tone? Apprehension?
Something in Z'ris clicked, and he bolted upright from his bed. His head was light for a moment at the sudden movement, but that didn't stop him from clambering towards his dresser and pulling out his riding gear instantly. Something wasn't right, something pulled at his instincts and stepped on his spine with skeleton fingers. This wasn't right at all. It was moments before he skidded to the door of his weyr and burst open into the hall. Chaos was what met his eye. Weyrfolk from the lower caverns had swarmed up through the Weyr and were attempting to wake every dragonrider door by door.
And not one of them spoke the word Thread.
Terror gripped Z'ris' lungs as he turned and skidded over to the ledge of his weyr, looking out over the bristly cold mountain range. Once he had cherished this small weyr so much simply because of the view it had of the mountain range that High Reaches was settled upon. Now, though, the view was still breath-taking, but not in quite the same way. Cracks were in the mountainside, and it was after another good shake that part of the range split wide open, and, oh shards, was that fire that burst through?
"Kar, to the weyr, now." Z'ris was in the midst of trying to figure out where his blue exactly was, and his though pattern was interrupted by something much more disheartening. The death-keen suddenly started up throughout the Weyr, dragons trumpeting their sorrowful mourning as one of their kind passed on. Kardenzoth was at the ledge, keening as he landed. It took a stagger from the rider to finally get to his dragon. The time it took for him to tighten the riding straps seemed like ages, as if his body was moving through molasses, but finally it did end--about two more dragon deaths later.
What are we going to do?
"Anything we can." There was a note of near hopelessness in Z'ris' voice as he patted the blue's back. This wasn't going to end well, he feared.
