Post by Deleted on Oct 18, 2013 16:12:12 GMT -5
NAME: Jorunn (your-run)
RANK: wingrider/searchrider
AGE: 33
GENDER: female
ORIENTATION: bisexual
DRAGON: Blue Nnamdith
PETS: none currently
APPEARANCE: Jorunn seems easy to overlook at first, a diminutive woman in either rider’s leathers or nondescript dark clothing. It’s Jorunn’s manner that draws the eye to her, she seems to take up more space than a small person should, and she never really seems relaxed always moving, always fiddling with things, that’s Jorunn. Her movements tend toward the sharp and swift, and she never walks when she can run.
Jorunn’s face might be considered pretty in repose, certainly her dark eyes, set under curled lashes could be ravishing, even with the slight crow’s feet that have begun to from at their corners. However Jorunn is rarely in repose unless she’s actually asleep, so her face is often set into disagreeable lines expressing her general irritation with the world around her.
PERSONALITY FAULTS: It often seems that Jorunn is going for the most sarcastic person on Pern award, depending who she’s talking to she can be cloying sweet with a bitter edge of sarcasm, unpleasant, sarcastic and cruel, or just common or garden sarcastic. Jorunn finds it hard to resist the lure of sarcasm, irony, and general backhandedness.
Jorunn also has a sharp temper to go with her sarcasm, she’s easily irritated, and one might even suspect that she likes complaining about things. But when she really loses her temper it’s an icy rage that numbs her all over and makes her speech much clearer and sharper than usual. Jorunn’s anger always gets control over her tongue when she loses her rag and she ends up saying things that she can’t unsay.
Children confuse Jorunn, she has no desire to have any of her own, and regards them as little more than small sticky humans that get everywhere. She has no real idea of how to treat them as children, so she just speaks to them as smaller adults. She’s well known for just answering any awkward question a child might pose (provided it’s not personal) on the basis that if you’re old enough to ask what that word Daddy uses means, or where your brother came from, you’re probably old enough to have the answer, and serve you right too.
PERSONALITY STRENGTHS: Jorunn adheres to a strict code of honour, never taking the easy way when it’s also the wrong way. Though she does lie, and certainly makes backhanded comments, Jorunn values the truth, she doesn’t manipulate it for her own vainglory and she’s not the sort to let a lie stand, unless the truth is unnecessary and likely to cause problems.
Jorunn has the talent of always seeming confident; partly it’s that she never seems to panic about things, no matter how badly she gets shaken up Jorunn always seems to be able to keep a clear mind, and she’s way more likely to get mad and get even than do anything else.
Though Jorunn can be a prickly sort to get to know she values friendship, and her honour ensures that she’ll never betray a friend, though said friends are likely to be on the receiving end of her wit as much as her enemies are.
Jorunn’s worst kept secret is her soft spot for animals, when she thinks no one’s looking she’ll throw balls for canines, scratch runners, and sing with firelizards. Her weyr tends to be a haven to any straying animal, and Jorunn is happy enough to keep them and run her life around them. In short Jorunn’s the sort of person who rescues little lost baby birds and cries when they die, which is the usual fate of lost baby birds.
HISTORY:
Jorunn had a fairly average start in life, being born to a drudge in Mirran weyrhold with an uncertain father and two older siblings. Her childhood passed in a blur of games and mischief, as many childhoods do. She tended to accept more often than question as a child, and that in turn tended to lead her in to trouble as she innocently followed the instructions of another weyrbrat in disaster of some kind. Eventually taking the blame made her more wary of blind obedience, but she already had a reputation for being a chump before her tenth turnday.
Another thing Jorunn became known for was her affection for pretty much every animal on Pern. she’d waste hours of her life watching flitting birds or darting lizards, just to see them, and had to be lectured endlessly about leaving canines, felines, and tunnelcats to their work and their hunting, and how they already belonged to someone. Although such lectures made Jorunn behave when people could see her, and avoid trying to play with animals that seemed busy, they certainly didn’t stop her from showering affection on any animal that approached her, or asking her mother for everything from birds to runnerbeasts for her turndays.
Like many children growing up in the presence of dragons Jorunn treated them as a source of personal entertainment. With all the arrogance of a child she decided she was obviously going to Impress just the second anyone let her near a hatching. In due course Jorunn did indeed join her oldersiblings as a candidate, however all the dragons at the first hatching ignored her, much to her chargin, couldn’t they see she had plans for and with them?
Being a rejected candidate at least brought Jorunn closer to her older siblings, who had long regarded her as an inconvenience. Now instead of being their burden she was their fellow in rejection. The three siblings often spent time together, though the endless games of children no longer amused them so much, more often they’d find some place out of the sight of their elders to talk about whatever first came to mind. As her siblings were somewhat older they often turned the topic to relationships, which Jorunn secretly found very boring.
Turns drifted by, marked only by the hatching and the turning of the seasons. Jorunn’s sister aged out of candidacy and left Mirran to purse a craft, and the remaining two siblings grew closer, sharing the unspoken fear that they, too would grow out of Impression age. Jorunn was on a collision course with the end of her teens, and her brother was even older. Talk between them often began to turn to what they might do in later life without a dragon, a topic barely touched on before.
Her brother, at least didn’t have to make many plans as at the very next hatching a green finally approached him and changed him from Joronar to Jo’ar. Jorunn was pleased for her brother but also terribly envious. In a way it was good that the newly made Jo’ar had little time for anything but his dragon because Jorunn frequently had to hold her tongue in his presence to stop herself expressing thoughts that she knew were unworthy.
Two more hatchings and Jorunn’s twenty second turnday passed by, reminding her that she was nearly too old, before a dragon on the sands noticed her. When it did it was a brightly coloured yet clumsy looking blue who managed to trip over his own wings and flop at her feet. Jorunn, my foot is stuck. Was the beast’s solemn announcement, as Jorunn untangled her mindmate’s limbs and helped him upright, he gave out his name, Nnamdith, and announced that, like all hatchlings since time began, he was hungry.
The first Impression of Nnamdith was correct, he was as clumsy as dragons came, and hindered more by his outsized wings that he never seemed to grow into. Jorunn would spend several months picking her dragon up, removing objects that he’d gotten tangled in or had stuck to him, and wondering if he’d ever learn to keep his wings folded while he was resting.
Jorunn’s weyrlinghood passed by mostly uneventfully, though she didn’t find interacting with her classmates easy as she was far and away the oldest. Jorunn often felt like she’d been crammed into a child’s desk in a schoolroom, and her fellow weyrlings found her a little odd and not really like them at all. Nnamdith was far more the social side of their pairing, always happy to talk, often for hours at a time.
However social he was Nnamdith neither grew into his wings nor out of his clumsiness, as the class progressed to flight and mounted drills Jorunn was forced to put extra hours of her free time into drilling herself and Nnamdith privately just so they could stay level with the other blues. Though it was clear that Nnam wasn’t going to be an ideal threadfighter he certainly put in the effort, and his enthusiasm for charring dropped bits of rope to death was boundless.
Though they might not have been the stars of the class Nnamdith and Jorunn passed their way out of weyrlinghood with a quiet sigh of relief. Their duties as a newly minted wingpair were not glamorous or onerous, just extremely tedious. With threadfall not due for some turns yet the only real interest in their duties was the occasional search, as Nnamdith turned out to be a better search dragon than anything else.
With Nnamdith’s talents searching should have been easy, but all too often Jorunn found it hard despite her carefully memorised speeches. Persuading the prospective candidate was easy, and normally done by Nnamdith, who broke the usual rules enough to speak to people he liked. Persuading their parents, however, usually involved some fast talking on everyone’s part, and Jorunn began wondering if it might be better just to wallop prospective candidates over the head and tie them on Nnamdith like so much baggage.
Back at the weyrhold Jorunn remained an odd duck, she’d always assumed it was being the oldest weyrling by a full four turns, and a lack of similar interests, that made her classmates look sideways at her. It was only slowly that she came to realise that it was often the very colour of Nnamdith’s hide that made other people look askance. After she came to this conclusion she felt a little foolish, she’d heard such views aired often enough, but never really applied them to herself, she was her and that was that in Jorunn’s opinion. That little revelation did start to colour her life a little, in spite of her resolution that it wouldn’t, she became a little sharper with people, a little more mocking.
Nnamdith made a late start to chasing, waiting almost as long as some of his bronze siblings, but took to chasing green tails with the same boundless enthusiasm he had for everything else in life. Of course, being Nnam, he wasn’t all that successful, but failure never discouraged him. Jorunn found the whole situation slightly annoying, but kept it from Nnamdith as much as possible. She didn’t begrudge the blue his attempts, but she preferred her companionship casual, and preferably without a weird emotional/physical gauntlet to go with it.
The next few turns had little of note in them, Jorunn was an oddly shaped peg, who’d ground an oddly shaped hole for herself in the world. Her life might not always be easy; however it was as she expected it to be.
All predictable things must come to an end however, and the early return of thread to Pern ended a lot more than that. Jorunn’s life metamorphosed into one long string of rushing around, flying in threadfall, and watching too many people and dragons vanish. When things eventually came under control, and Mirran was on top of their ancient enemy, no one was more surprised than Jorunn. She suspected it was only the huge numbers of fighting dragons the weyrhold could field that swung the balance, certainly the smaller weyrs were having a harder time of it.
Of course just as Jorunn was starting to feel cocky about things, she and Nnamdith got a closer encounter with thread than they really wanted, taking them out of action for a while so Nnamdith’s wings could heal up. Being on the injured list didn’t do a thing for Jorunn’s temper, and nor did the fact that Nnam was enjoying his enforced idleness.
Once she and her dragon were allowed back in the air Jorunn found things had settled back into a sense of routine, and on a slightly bitter tinted positive for her not many could afford to look sideways at her any more, dragons in the air were something to be grateful for, no matter what their colour or who their rider.
Breaks from the routine only came with bad news, and when Jorunn was one of those who drew the duty of searching for the missing rogue greenrider R’zel that was no exception to the rule. Although it was something that wasn’t supposed to be bandied around it seemed that R’zel had been involved with several poisonings over at the island weyrhold of Mavros. Jorunn often had cause to wonder if that really happened or if it was some kind of political front, it was hard to imagine any rider poisoning another, or that their dragon would let them. In any case The team she worked with never ran across him on their patrols, and Jorunn never heard of him being found either. It seemed R’zel had made his mark in history, and then fallen through the cracks of time.
Even without R’zel brought to justice there were consequences for the Mirranese, the most obvious of which was the huge amount of Mavros candidates standing for Prith’s clutch. Jorunn was sure she wasn’t the only one slightly chagrined to see twelve of the sixteen hatchlings eventually take ship and travel across to the ring islands.
Jorunn wouldn’t think much about Mavros in the next turn or so, except for stray thoughts. Safely off the radar the smaller weyrhold could be ignored by one insignificant bluerider. In fact, had the Mirrianese leaders not decided in the fourth turn of the pass to trade various resources for the red woods of the ring islands Jorunn would likely have never thought beyond that.
However one of the things Mirran was trading was manpower, or rather dragonpower. Apparently since being cut off from even their occasional transfers Mavros was crying out for dragons. What looked like a punishment duty to plenty looked like an opportunity to Jorunn, and she promptly and willingly put her name down on the transfer list.
Upon actually Arriving at the island weyrhold Jorunn began to have doubts, after four turns it still looked like a dump. Still she couldn’t lay in a complaint that things were boring, although it looked like she wouldn’t be shooting up the ranks. Instead of pushing Jorunn spent her time establishing herself as a competent wingrider, and biding her time.
FAMILY:
Mother- Jolean, drudge at Mirran weyrhold
Father- unknown
Sister- Uleana- Journeyman healer, various locations
Brother- Jo’ar- greenrider, Mirran weyrhold
IN THE EVENT OF YOUR SUDDEN, UNEXPLAINED DISAPPEARANCE FROM THE SITE AT ANY POINT IN TIME, WHAT DO YOU WISH TO BECOME OF THIS CHARACTER AND ANY CREATURES THEY MAY IMPRESS?
b. Turn them into an NPC who may be killed off or used for plot purposes but who will not be played by someone else.
c. Turn them into a free use NPC, who will not be played by any one person exclusively but will continue to be developed by the combined efforts of the site's members.
Either of these is fine.
RANK: wingrider/searchrider
AGE: 33
GENDER: female
ORIENTATION: bisexual
DRAGON: Blue Nnamdith
PETS: none currently
APPEARANCE: Jorunn seems easy to overlook at first, a diminutive woman in either rider’s leathers or nondescript dark clothing. It’s Jorunn’s manner that draws the eye to her, she seems to take up more space than a small person should, and she never really seems relaxed always moving, always fiddling with things, that’s Jorunn. Her movements tend toward the sharp and swift, and she never walks when she can run.
Jorunn’s face might be considered pretty in repose, certainly her dark eyes, set under curled lashes could be ravishing, even with the slight crow’s feet that have begun to from at their corners. However Jorunn is rarely in repose unless she’s actually asleep, so her face is often set into disagreeable lines expressing her general irritation with the world around her.
PERSONALITY FAULTS: It often seems that Jorunn is going for the most sarcastic person on Pern award, depending who she’s talking to she can be cloying sweet with a bitter edge of sarcasm, unpleasant, sarcastic and cruel, or just common or garden sarcastic. Jorunn finds it hard to resist the lure of sarcasm, irony, and general backhandedness.
Jorunn also has a sharp temper to go with her sarcasm, she’s easily irritated, and one might even suspect that she likes complaining about things. But when she really loses her temper it’s an icy rage that numbs her all over and makes her speech much clearer and sharper than usual. Jorunn’s anger always gets control over her tongue when she loses her rag and she ends up saying things that she can’t unsay.
Children confuse Jorunn, she has no desire to have any of her own, and regards them as little more than small sticky humans that get everywhere. She has no real idea of how to treat them as children, so she just speaks to them as smaller adults. She’s well known for just answering any awkward question a child might pose (provided it’s not personal) on the basis that if you’re old enough to ask what that word Daddy uses means, or where your brother came from, you’re probably old enough to have the answer, and serve you right too.
PERSONALITY STRENGTHS: Jorunn adheres to a strict code of honour, never taking the easy way when it’s also the wrong way. Though she does lie, and certainly makes backhanded comments, Jorunn values the truth, she doesn’t manipulate it for her own vainglory and she’s not the sort to let a lie stand, unless the truth is unnecessary and likely to cause problems.
Jorunn has the talent of always seeming confident; partly it’s that she never seems to panic about things, no matter how badly she gets shaken up Jorunn always seems to be able to keep a clear mind, and she’s way more likely to get mad and get even than do anything else.
Though Jorunn can be a prickly sort to get to know she values friendship, and her honour ensures that she’ll never betray a friend, though said friends are likely to be on the receiving end of her wit as much as her enemies are.
Jorunn’s worst kept secret is her soft spot for animals, when she thinks no one’s looking she’ll throw balls for canines, scratch runners, and sing with firelizards. Her weyr tends to be a haven to any straying animal, and Jorunn is happy enough to keep them and run her life around them. In short Jorunn’s the sort of person who rescues little lost baby birds and cries when they die, which is the usual fate of lost baby birds.
HISTORY:
Jorunn had a fairly average start in life, being born to a drudge in Mirran weyrhold with an uncertain father and two older siblings. Her childhood passed in a blur of games and mischief, as many childhoods do. She tended to accept more often than question as a child, and that in turn tended to lead her in to trouble as she innocently followed the instructions of another weyrbrat in disaster of some kind. Eventually taking the blame made her more wary of blind obedience, but she already had a reputation for being a chump before her tenth turnday.
Another thing Jorunn became known for was her affection for pretty much every animal on Pern. she’d waste hours of her life watching flitting birds or darting lizards, just to see them, and had to be lectured endlessly about leaving canines, felines, and tunnelcats to their work and their hunting, and how they already belonged to someone. Although such lectures made Jorunn behave when people could see her, and avoid trying to play with animals that seemed busy, they certainly didn’t stop her from showering affection on any animal that approached her, or asking her mother for everything from birds to runnerbeasts for her turndays.
Like many children growing up in the presence of dragons Jorunn treated them as a source of personal entertainment. With all the arrogance of a child she decided she was obviously going to Impress just the second anyone let her near a hatching. In due course Jorunn did indeed join her oldersiblings as a candidate, however all the dragons at the first hatching ignored her, much to her chargin, couldn’t they see she had plans for and with them?
Being a rejected candidate at least brought Jorunn closer to her older siblings, who had long regarded her as an inconvenience. Now instead of being their burden she was their fellow in rejection. The three siblings often spent time together, though the endless games of children no longer amused them so much, more often they’d find some place out of the sight of their elders to talk about whatever first came to mind. As her siblings were somewhat older they often turned the topic to relationships, which Jorunn secretly found very boring.
Turns drifted by, marked only by the hatching and the turning of the seasons. Jorunn’s sister aged out of candidacy and left Mirran to purse a craft, and the remaining two siblings grew closer, sharing the unspoken fear that they, too would grow out of Impression age. Jorunn was on a collision course with the end of her teens, and her brother was even older. Talk between them often began to turn to what they might do in later life without a dragon, a topic barely touched on before.
Her brother, at least didn’t have to make many plans as at the very next hatching a green finally approached him and changed him from Joronar to Jo’ar. Jorunn was pleased for her brother but also terribly envious. In a way it was good that the newly made Jo’ar had little time for anything but his dragon because Jorunn frequently had to hold her tongue in his presence to stop herself expressing thoughts that she knew were unworthy.
Two more hatchings and Jorunn’s twenty second turnday passed by, reminding her that she was nearly too old, before a dragon on the sands noticed her. When it did it was a brightly coloured yet clumsy looking blue who managed to trip over his own wings and flop at her feet. Jorunn, my foot is stuck. Was the beast’s solemn announcement, as Jorunn untangled her mindmate’s limbs and helped him upright, he gave out his name, Nnamdith, and announced that, like all hatchlings since time began, he was hungry.
The first Impression of Nnamdith was correct, he was as clumsy as dragons came, and hindered more by his outsized wings that he never seemed to grow into. Jorunn would spend several months picking her dragon up, removing objects that he’d gotten tangled in or had stuck to him, and wondering if he’d ever learn to keep his wings folded while he was resting.
Jorunn’s weyrlinghood passed by mostly uneventfully, though she didn’t find interacting with her classmates easy as she was far and away the oldest. Jorunn often felt like she’d been crammed into a child’s desk in a schoolroom, and her fellow weyrlings found her a little odd and not really like them at all. Nnamdith was far more the social side of their pairing, always happy to talk, often for hours at a time.
However social he was Nnamdith neither grew into his wings nor out of his clumsiness, as the class progressed to flight and mounted drills Jorunn was forced to put extra hours of her free time into drilling herself and Nnamdith privately just so they could stay level with the other blues. Though it was clear that Nnam wasn’t going to be an ideal threadfighter he certainly put in the effort, and his enthusiasm for charring dropped bits of rope to death was boundless.
Though they might not have been the stars of the class Nnamdith and Jorunn passed their way out of weyrlinghood with a quiet sigh of relief. Their duties as a newly minted wingpair were not glamorous or onerous, just extremely tedious. With threadfall not due for some turns yet the only real interest in their duties was the occasional search, as Nnamdith turned out to be a better search dragon than anything else.
With Nnamdith’s talents searching should have been easy, but all too often Jorunn found it hard despite her carefully memorised speeches. Persuading the prospective candidate was easy, and normally done by Nnamdith, who broke the usual rules enough to speak to people he liked. Persuading their parents, however, usually involved some fast talking on everyone’s part, and Jorunn began wondering if it might be better just to wallop prospective candidates over the head and tie them on Nnamdith like so much baggage.
Back at the weyrhold Jorunn remained an odd duck, she’d always assumed it was being the oldest weyrling by a full four turns, and a lack of similar interests, that made her classmates look sideways at her. It was only slowly that she came to realise that it was often the very colour of Nnamdith’s hide that made other people look askance. After she came to this conclusion she felt a little foolish, she’d heard such views aired often enough, but never really applied them to herself, she was her and that was that in Jorunn’s opinion. That little revelation did start to colour her life a little, in spite of her resolution that it wouldn’t, she became a little sharper with people, a little more mocking.
Nnamdith made a late start to chasing, waiting almost as long as some of his bronze siblings, but took to chasing green tails with the same boundless enthusiasm he had for everything else in life. Of course, being Nnam, he wasn’t all that successful, but failure never discouraged him. Jorunn found the whole situation slightly annoying, but kept it from Nnamdith as much as possible. She didn’t begrudge the blue his attempts, but she preferred her companionship casual, and preferably without a weird emotional/physical gauntlet to go with it.
The next few turns had little of note in them, Jorunn was an oddly shaped peg, who’d ground an oddly shaped hole for herself in the world. Her life might not always be easy; however it was as she expected it to be.
All predictable things must come to an end however, and the early return of thread to Pern ended a lot more than that. Jorunn’s life metamorphosed into one long string of rushing around, flying in threadfall, and watching too many people and dragons vanish. When things eventually came under control, and Mirran was on top of their ancient enemy, no one was more surprised than Jorunn. She suspected it was only the huge numbers of fighting dragons the weyrhold could field that swung the balance, certainly the smaller weyrs were having a harder time of it.
Of course just as Jorunn was starting to feel cocky about things, she and Nnamdith got a closer encounter with thread than they really wanted, taking them out of action for a while so Nnamdith’s wings could heal up. Being on the injured list didn’t do a thing for Jorunn’s temper, and nor did the fact that Nnam was enjoying his enforced idleness.
Once she and her dragon were allowed back in the air Jorunn found things had settled back into a sense of routine, and on a slightly bitter tinted positive for her not many could afford to look sideways at her any more, dragons in the air were something to be grateful for, no matter what their colour or who their rider.
Breaks from the routine only came with bad news, and when Jorunn was one of those who drew the duty of searching for the missing rogue greenrider R’zel that was no exception to the rule. Although it was something that wasn’t supposed to be bandied around it seemed that R’zel had been involved with several poisonings over at the island weyrhold of Mavros. Jorunn often had cause to wonder if that really happened or if it was some kind of political front, it was hard to imagine any rider poisoning another, or that their dragon would let them. In any case The team she worked with never ran across him on their patrols, and Jorunn never heard of him being found either. It seemed R’zel had made his mark in history, and then fallen through the cracks of time.
Even without R’zel brought to justice there were consequences for the Mirranese, the most obvious of which was the huge amount of Mavros candidates standing for Prith’s clutch. Jorunn was sure she wasn’t the only one slightly chagrined to see twelve of the sixteen hatchlings eventually take ship and travel across to the ring islands.
Jorunn wouldn’t think much about Mavros in the next turn or so, except for stray thoughts. Safely off the radar the smaller weyrhold could be ignored by one insignificant bluerider. In fact, had the Mirrianese leaders not decided in the fourth turn of the pass to trade various resources for the red woods of the ring islands Jorunn would likely have never thought beyond that.
However one of the things Mirran was trading was manpower, or rather dragonpower. Apparently since being cut off from even their occasional transfers Mavros was crying out for dragons. What looked like a punishment duty to plenty looked like an opportunity to Jorunn, and she promptly and willingly put her name down on the transfer list.
Upon actually Arriving at the island weyrhold Jorunn began to have doubts, after four turns it still looked like a dump. Still she couldn’t lay in a complaint that things were boring, although it looked like she wouldn’t be shooting up the ranks. Instead of pushing Jorunn spent her time establishing herself as a competent wingrider, and biding her time.
FAMILY:
Mother- Jolean, drudge at Mirran weyrhold
Father- unknown
Sister- Uleana- Journeyman healer, various locations
Brother- Jo’ar- greenrider, Mirran weyrhold
IN THE EVENT OF YOUR SUDDEN, UNEXPLAINED DISAPPEARANCE FROM THE SITE AT ANY POINT IN TIME, WHAT DO YOU WISH TO BECOME OF THIS CHARACTER AND ANY CREATURES THEY MAY IMPRESS?
b. Turn them into an NPC who may be killed off or used for plot purposes but who will not be played by someone else.
c. Turn them into a free use NPC, who will not be played by any one person exclusively but will continue to be developed by the combined efforts of the site's members.
Either of these is fine.