Post by Taxx on Jan 25, 2018 13:43:52 GMT -5
NAME: Arelle
RANK: Weyrfolk
AGE: 30 Turns
GENDER: Female
ORIENTATION: Asexual
PETS: Blue Firelizard Nipper
APPEARANCE:
Arelle is a beauty- pale skin is offset by the dark clothes she prefers to wear, as well as her nearly black hair. It used to be short, kept so for the ease of dealing with it during Falls, but it’s begun to grow out. Currently, it’s falling into her eyes, thick and heavy and a bit scruffy due to her lack of concern.
Her eyes are a deep brown and almond-shaped, surrounded by trim black lashes and overhung by brows also growing out a bit. Her face is roughly triangular, a broad forehead slanting to a small chin.
She tends to shuffle along, now- her confident stride long gone. Head down, she hardly looks like she’s watching where she’s going, and she has trouble meeting people’s eyes when she talks to them.
PERSONALITY FAULTS:
Dreamer: Arelle has trouble focusing on the realities of life- if not for her grandfather and the help of others, she might well simply waste away from lack of food and water. She spends most of her time staring at nothing and talking to nobody, as it may appear, but as a way of helping her cope, she has begun to ‘hear’ Raloth’s voice again, with all the love and devotion and humor the green portrayed while alive.
Suspicious: The shock of Raloth’s death has made it painfully obvious that creatures die. Her grandmother, her dragon- who next? She struggles to keep people at an arm’s length now, wary of losing someone else she got close to- the only exception being her blue firelizard and her son, who people have used as a means to coax her to get up and care for.
Apathetic: She’s lost her will for the little things- the beauty of a sunset, the pleasant joy from a child’s laugh. She’ll sit in the sun if guided there, but linger in her weyr if not; she’ll shower at a suggestion but not remember to do so on her own. She rarely laughs anymore, simply watching as people continue to live their lives around her.
PERSONALITY STRENGTHS:
Fast learner: This has carried over- while she generally lacks the drive, if she’s consistently nudged to focus on her task, she can pick it up quite quickly. Lately, she’s begun to take up weaving, and the hypnotic movement of her hands as she sews does help take her mind off of the world.
Steady: The bursts of emotion have mostly faded- she may lose herself in the moments after waking from the constant nightmares she deals with, but otherwise she’s begun to deal with those in a more refined way, and she’s not as overwhelmed with emotion as she used to be. It’s often easier for her to stay where she can’t see dragons, though in time this may be something she will overcome as well.
Protective: She might not have wanted to remain after Raloth, but she’s still here and she’s doing her best to make the best of it. Part of her driving force now is that of her son and her blue firelizard, and she does her best, each day, to take care of them in any way that she can. She gives them more care than she gives herself, though she may coddle him a bit too much in her attempts to make sure he’s got everything he needs.
FAMILY: Father: E’los of Blue Wareth
Mother: Kelira, Weyrfolk
Son: Rajirel
HISTORY: Born at Tidewalk Weyr, Arelle was her mother Kelira’s only child. At twenty Turns, Kelira wasn’t young enough to raise eyebrows when she became pregnant; bluerider E’los charmed the young woman, bedded her, and hardly looked back as he left. Such was the way of some people- men and women- and Kelira had plenty of support in her own mother and father when she realized she was pregnant.
She delivered the girl with little problem and named her once the Healers declared the babe healthy. Arelle grew up in the loving company of mother and grandparents, spending most days in the creche and surrounded by playmates as eager and boisterous as she was. She wore herself out each day and slept through the night, enjoying greatly the balance between playing with her agemates and spending time with her family.
In time she left the creche, began to take more of an interest in the Weyr’s goings-on, following her mother as Kelira went about her tasks and offering to help in any way she could. Fetching, carrying, and even aiding in light chores replaced the hours of play, but it marked her advancing from a child who was more of a hindrance to a girl who helped by doing the running about, making life just a bit easier for her mother.
Kelira told her plenty about her father, explaining that he was a rider, that he was often busy on errands for the Weyr, and pointed him out a time or two when he was around. Arelle might have wished for the chance to get to know him better, but his lack of attention was like an itch- never painful and fading quickly. If Kelira had been less of an attentive mother, if she hadn’t had her grandmother and grandfather to give her affection, she might have tried harder to know E’los; as it was, she was rather content to watch him from a distance.
Still, it didn’t surprise Kelira too much when Arelle began to express her desire to be a dragonrider. When you’re old enough became a phrase often spoken, perhaps hoping that the girl might grow out of her desire as Kelira herself had. Dragonriders were highly respected, of course- they protected Weyr and Hold at risk of their own lives, but that risk had frightened Kelira when she’d been younger- the possibility of ending up scored or even dead turning her to other ways to help the Weyr.
She didn’t want that for Arelle, but as she got older, her wish to be a rider only strengthened. It was further bolstered by her grandfather’s approval and his tales. Dragonriders needed to be brave and strong, he told her, unmoved by the danger they faced every time they flew. Kelira wasn’t pleased by his prodding, nor mollified by his attempts to soothe her by mentioning (out of Arelle’s hearing) that the girl might not even Impress.
It was Arelle’s choice, in the end. And she chose to accept the Candidate knots when she reached her thirteenth Turn. She had nothing but respect for Kelira’s own choice, but Arelle wanted to be a rider. More than anything. For eight Turns, she Stood, leaving each time alone, pushing past the short misery that she’d been passed by, always building herself up again with the thought that next time, surely, her partner would be waiting for her.
In her twenty-first Turn, finally, it happened. The little green tumbled from her egg with gusto, stumbled a few steps and fell over, kicking up a shower of sand that landed on her and stuck to her damp hide. Managing to right herself again, eyes whirling a green the same shade as her hide, she peered around at the Candidates and then padded toward them. Unerringly, she went straight for Arelle, pushing aside the ones who tried to step into her path, pausing before the young woman and giving a cheery warble of greeting, her eyes already whirling the tell-tale rainbow of Impression.
So began their training. Raloth was a handful, easily excited and eager to the point of sometimes completely missing the point of a lesson. But she was friendly, approachable, and easy to bond to; Arelle had never been prouder than when she was able to introduce her young dragon to her mother and grandparents. Raloth was warmly affectionate, happy to spend time with her rider’s family whenever time allowed it.
E’los made attempts too, but Arelle wasn’t quite as willing to let him in- she had outgrown her wish to get to know him, and his trying to get close to her now, after she had Impressed, put her back up. Was she only worthy of his attention now, because she was a rider? She didn’t need, or want, his conditional love. Kelira had never made her feel like she had to earn her affection. And if she had never Impressed? What then?
As a rider, she would respect the man. As her father, she wanted nothing to do with him. When he realized this, E’los backed off, keeping his distance from then on.
The Turns passed; Arelle and Raloth graduated and assumed their roles as full riders. They did gain scars, Threadscore that healed as well as it could, and always, always, returning to the fight when they were well enough. When news spread of a different Weyr being founded, she decided to join them, leaving Tidewalk for the prospect of helping to set up the new Weyr, which was given the name Mavros.
None of her family went along, remaining at the Weyr they had spent their entire lives at, and Arelle simply visited often. Soon after, her grandmother passed from illness, leaving the remaining three to grieve the loss. Arelle acquired a pet, a little blue firelizard which she named Nipper. And she adopted a boy she named Rajirel, balancing his care with her duties as a rider and thankful for the creche mothers and fathers who cared for him.
He was just a Turn old, Arelle just Turned thirty, when tragedy struck- Threadfall struck. Arelle and Raloth had gone to meet it, as they had many times before, but this time would not be like the others. Reports would later put the fault on neither dragon or rider; a freak gust of wind blew the falling clump toward the green, whose attention was elsewhere. It made contact just at the green’s shoulder joint and spread rapidly, eating away at the muscles that powered the wing. The bone-deep shock of pain triggered the reaction practically beaten into weyrlings: the pair went between, into the bitter cold that killed the spores and caused them to wither and crumble into dust.
They emerged into a Thread-free area, but Raloth’s power of flight was gone; her one wing was unresponsive, and the other flapped uselessly as they plummeted downward. Clinging to the green’s neck, fear and pain raging through her mind, Arelle could only hope… it was Raloth’s presence of mind that saved them both from crashing into the ground. She called for help, doing everything she could to slow her rapid descent.
A bronze responded, leaving his wing to dive after the falling green and carefully wrapping his front legs around her body, taking extra care not to squash Arelle between him and Raloth. The landing was awkward, but it was much preferred to death by crashing. Still tortured by pain, Arelle never remembered to thank the bronze and his rider; freeing herself from the straps and instantly turning to comfort her green, she took no further notice of him.
Healers moved to work on Raloth instantly, patching her up before allowing Arelle to guide the green to the dragon half of the infirmary. Not until then did Arelle even realize she’d been scored too; she’d thought the pain had been all Raloth’s. Treated quickly, always within sight of her green, and both of them slipped into sleep when the treatment was done.
Where Arelle began to heal, however, Raloth slowly grew worse, the score refusing to respond to the treatments. Infection set in, and the green’s health began to take a sharp turn for the worse. Arelle became increasingly frantic, hardly leaving the infirmary for anything, driving herself mad with worry over Raloth’s worsening condition. She hardly slept, hardly ate, could barely focus on anything besides her green’s deterioration. Arelle couldn’t bear the thought of leaving Raloth’s side for even a moment, and Kelira began to take meals to her daughter in an effort to keep her from collapsing.
As much as everyone would hope that Raloth might turn a corner, might recover, it wasn’t meant to be; Arelle had been sleeping, curled up on a blanket she’d dragged in so she didn’t have to leave the infirmary, but she was wakened, heart pounding and fear sinking deep as she noticed the graying color of Raloth’s hide. She screamed, calling for help, and grew even more hysterical when the Healers who approached tried to tell her that they could do nothing more.
Kelira was sent for, but she hadn’t yet arrived when Raloth stiffened; Arelle threw herself at the green and clung to her for the last time. One moment she was lying across Raloth’s head, the frantic hope that if she held on to her that she could somehow keep Raloth here- and the next she was belly-flat on the stone floor, the other half of her just gone.
Only her mother’s presence and a great deal of coaxing got the fellis into her, easing Arelle into sleep and giving her brief release from the pain. Settled back in her weyr, Kelira remained with her daughter as she slept, a desperate worry for the young woman- Kelira knew what happened to most riders who lost their dragons, and the realization that she might lose Arelle… She couldn’t help but wish she had made a stronger stand on the issue of Arelle taking up Candidacy.
As unfair as it might have been, when Arelle woke, Kelira did everything she could to give Arelle a reason not to follow her dragon into death. Her family, especially the son she had adopted, and the little blue firelizard. When those failed to suffice as a strong enough motive to live, Kelira switched to simply begging. She couldn’t lose her daughter- just couldn’t.
It worked. Arelle agreed to try, but the turmoil of pain and loss needed an outlet and it turned to resentment, directed at the woman who seemed to think that she needed Arelle more than Arelle needed to be back with Raloth. How could she understand, though? She’d never had that incredible bond. Kelira remained at Mavros, doing all she could to help her daughter recover, even as Arelle could hardly bear to face her.
It didn’t get easier overnight. Nightmares about the scoring and the loss of her lifemate still torment her almost on a nightly basis, and some days even the thought of getting out of bed seems like too much effort. But there are improvements- if slight ones- and the one thing that helped the most was when she started hearing Raloth’s voice again. The bond is still gone, but having that back, if nothing else, went some way toward easing the heartache.
Living on the edges of the Weyr now, most days simply seeming to exist and nothing more, and keeping her distance from Kelira. Rajirel and Nipper are her closest family now, and she clings to them hard, using them as a way to give reason to the life she still lives.
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.
RANK: Weyrfolk
AGE: 30 Turns
GENDER: Female
ORIENTATION: Asexual
PETS: Blue Firelizard Nipper
APPEARANCE:
Arelle is a beauty- pale skin is offset by the dark clothes she prefers to wear, as well as her nearly black hair. It used to be short, kept so for the ease of dealing with it during Falls, but it’s begun to grow out. Currently, it’s falling into her eyes, thick and heavy and a bit scruffy due to her lack of concern.
Her eyes are a deep brown and almond-shaped, surrounded by trim black lashes and overhung by brows also growing out a bit. Her face is roughly triangular, a broad forehead slanting to a small chin.
She tends to shuffle along, now- her confident stride long gone. Head down, she hardly looks like she’s watching where she’s going, and she has trouble meeting people’s eyes when she talks to them.
PERSONALITY FAULTS:
Dreamer: Arelle has trouble focusing on the realities of life- if not for her grandfather and the help of others, she might well simply waste away from lack of food and water. She spends most of her time staring at nothing and talking to nobody, as it may appear, but as a way of helping her cope, she has begun to ‘hear’ Raloth’s voice again, with all the love and devotion and humor the green portrayed while alive.
Suspicious: The shock of Raloth’s death has made it painfully obvious that creatures die. Her grandmother, her dragon- who next? She struggles to keep people at an arm’s length now, wary of losing someone else she got close to- the only exception being her blue firelizard and her son, who people have used as a means to coax her to get up and care for.
Apathetic: She’s lost her will for the little things- the beauty of a sunset, the pleasant joy from a child’s laugh. She’ll sit in the sun if guided there, but linger in her weyr if not; she’ll shower at a suggestion but not remember to do so on her own. She rarely laughs anymore, simply watching as people continue to live their lives around her.
PERSONALITY STRENGTHS:
Fast learner: This has carried over- while she generally lacks the drive, if she’s consistently nudged to focus on her task, she can pick it up quite quickly. Lately, she’s begun to take up weaving, and the hypnotic movement of her hands as she sews does help take her mind off of the world.
Steady: The bursts of emotion have mostly faded- she may lose herself in the moments after waking from the constant nightmares she deals with, but otherwise she’s begun to deal with those in a more refined way, and she’s not as overwhelmed with emotion as she used to be. It’s often easier for her to stay where she can’t see dragons, though in time this may be something she will overcome as well.
Protective: She might not have wanted to remain after Raloth, but she’s still here and she’s doing her best to make the best of it. Part of her driving force now is that of her son and her blue firelizard, and she does her best, each day, to take care of them in any way that she can. She gives them more care than she gives herself, though she may coddle him a bit too much in her attempts to make sure he’s got everything he needs.
FAMILY: Father: E’los of Blue Wareth
Mother: Kelira, Weyrfolk
Son: Rajirel
HISTORY: Born at Tidewalk Weyr, Arelle was her mother Kelira’s only child. At twenty Turns, Kelira wasn’t young enough to raise eyebrows when she became pregnant; bluerider E’los charmed the young woman, bedded her, and hardly looked back as he left. Such was the way of some people- men and women- and Kelira had plenty of support in her own mother and father when she realized she was pregnant.
She delivered the girl with little problem and named her once the Healers declared the babe healthy. Arelle grew up in the loving company of mother and grandparents, spending most days in the creche and surrounded by playmates as eager and boisterous as she was. She wore herself out each day and slept through the night, enjoying greatly the balance between playing with her agemates and spending time with her family.
In time she left the creche, began to take more of an interest in the Weyr’s goings-on, following her mother as Kelira went about her tasks and offering to help in any way she could. Fetching, carrying, and even aiding in light chores replaced the hours of play, but it marked her advancing from a child who was more of a hindrance to a girl who helped by doing the running about, making life just a bit easier for her mother.
Kelira told her plenty about her father, explaining that he was a rider, that he was often busy on errands for the Weyr, and pointed him out a time or two when he was around. Arelle might have wished for the chance to get to know him better, but his lack of attention was like an itch- never painful and fading quickly. If Kelira had been less of an attentive mother, if she hadn’t had her grandmother and grandfather to give her affection, she might have tried harder to know E’los; as it was, she was rather content to watch him from a distance.
Still, it didn’t surprise Kelira too much when Arelle began to express her desire to be a dragonrider. When you’re old enough became a phrase often spoken, perhaps hoping that the girl might grow out of her desire as Kelira herself had. Dragonriders were highly respected, of course- they protected Weyr and Hold at risk of their own lives, but that risk had frightened Kelira when she’d been younger- the possibility of ending up scored or even dead turning her to other ways to help the Weyr.
She didn’t want that for Arelle, but as she got older, her wish to be a rider only strengthened. It was further bolstered by her grandfather’s approval and his tales. Dragonriders needed to be brave and strong, he told her, unmoved by the danger they faced every time they flew. Kelira wasn’t pleased by his prodding, nor mollified by his attempts to soothe her by mentioning (out of Arelle’s hearing) that the girl might not even Impress.
It was Arelle’s choice, in the end. And she chose to accept the Candidate knots when she reached her thirteenth Turn. She had nothing but respect for Kelira’s own choice, but Arelle wanted to be a rider. More than anything. For eight Turns, she Stood, leaving each time alone, pushing past the short misery that she’d been passed by, always building herself up again with the thought that next time, surely, her partner would be waiting for her.
In her twenty-first Turn, finally, it happened. The little green tumbled from her egg with gusto, stumbled a few steps and fell over, kicking up a shower of sand that landed on her and stuck to her damp hide. Managing to right herself again, eyes whirling a green the same shade as her hide, she peered around at the Candidates and then padded toward them. Unerringly, she went straight for Arelle, pushing aside the ones who tried to step into her path, pausing before the young woman and giving a cheery warble of greeting, her eyes already whirling the tell-tale rainbow of Impression.
So began their training. Raloth was a handful, easily excited and eager to the point of sometimes completely missing the point of a lesson. But she was friendly, approachable, and easy to bond to; Arelle had never been prouder than when she was able to introduce her young dragon to her mother and grandparents. Raloth was warmly affectionate, happy to spend time with her rider’s family whenever time allowed it.
E’los made attempts too, but Arelle wasn’t quite as willing to let him in- she had outgrown her wish to get to know him, and his trying to get close to her now, after she had Impressed, put her back up. Was she only worthy of his attention now, because she was a rider? She didn’t need, or want, his conditional love. Kelira had never made her feel like she had to earn her affection. And if she had never Impressed? What then?
As a rider, she would respect the man. As her father, she wanted nothing to do with him. When he realized this, E’los backed off, keeping his distance from then on.
The Turns passed; Arelle and Raloth graduated and assumed their roles as full riders. They did gain scars, Threadscore that healed as well as it could, and always, always, returning to the fight when they were well enough. When news spread of a different Weyr being founded, she decided to join them, leaving Tidewalk for the prospect of helping to set up the new Weyr, which was given the name Mavros.
None of her family went along, remaining at the Weyr they had spent their entire lives at, and Arelle simply visited often. Soon after, her grandmother passed from illness, leaving the remaining three to grieve the loss. Arelle acquired a pet, a little blue firelizard which she named Nipper. And she adopted a boy she named Rajirel, balancing his care with her duties as a rider and thankful for the creche mothers and fathers who cared for him.
He was just a Turn old, Arelle just Turned thirty, when tragedy struck- Threadfall struck. Arelle and Raloth had gone to meet it, as they had many times before, but this time would not be like the others. Reports would later put the fault on neither dragon or rider; a freak gust of wind blew the falling clump toward the green, whose attention was elsewhere. It made contact just at the green’s shoulder joint and spread rapidly, eating away at the muscles that powered the wing. The bone-deep shock of pain triggered the reaction practically beaten into weyrlings: the pair went between, into the bitter cold that killed the spores and caused them to wither and crumble into dust.
They emerged into a Thread-free area, but Raloth’s power of flight was gone; her one wing was unresponsive, and the other flapped uselessly as they plummeted downward. Clinging to the green’s neck, fear and pain raging through her mind, Arelle could only hope… it was Raloth’s presence of mind that saved them both from crashing into the ground. She called for help, doing everything she could to slow her rapid descent.
A bronze responded, leaving his wing to dive after the falling green and carefully wrapping his front legs around her body, taking extra care not to squash Arelle between him and Raloth. The landing was awkward, but it was much preferred to death by crashing. Still tortured by pain, Arelle never remembered to thank the bronze and his rider; freeing herself from the straps and instantly turning to comfort her green, she took no further notice of him.
Healers moved to work on Raloth instantly, patching her up before allowing Arelle to guide the green to the dragon half of the infirmary. Not until then did Arelle even realize she’d been scored too; she’d thought the pain had been all Raloth’s. Treated quickly, always within sight of her green, and both of them slipped into sleep when the treatment was done.
Where Arelle began to heal, however, Raloth slowly grew worse, the score refusing to respond to the treatments. Infection set in, and the green’s health began to take a sharp turn for the worse. Arelle became increasingly frantic, hardly leaving the infirmary for anything, driving herself mad with worry over Raloth’s worsening condition. She hardly slept, hardly ate, could barely focus on anything besides her green’s deterioration. Arelle couldn’t bear the thought of leaving Raloth’s side for even a moment, and Kelira began to take meals to her daughter in an effort to keep her from collapsing.
As much as everyone would hope that Raloth might turn a corner, might recover, it wasn’t meant to be; Arelle had been sleeping, curled up on a blanket she’d dragged in so she didn’t have to leave the infirmary, but she was wakened, heart pounding and fear sinking deep as she noticed the graying color of Raloth’s hide. She screamed, calling for help, and grew even more hysterical when the Healers who approached tried to tell her that they could do nothing more.
Kelira was sent for, but she hadn’t yet arrived when Raloth stiffened; Arelle threw herself at the green and clung to her for the last time. One moment she was lying across Raloth’s head, the frantic hope that if she held on to her that she could somehow keep Raloth here- and the next she was belly-flat on the stone floor, the other half of her just gone.
Only her mother’s presence and a great deal of coaxing got the fellis into her, easing Arelle into sleep and giving her brief release from the pain. Settled back in her weyr, Kelira remained with her daughter as she slept, a desperate worry for the young woman- Kelira knew what happened to most riders who lost their dragons, and the realization that she might lose Arelle… She couldn’t help but wish she had made a stronger stand on the issue of Arelle taking up Candidacy.
As unfair as it might have been, when Arelle woke, Kelira did everything she could to give Arelle a reason not to follow her dragon into death. Her family, especially the son she had adopted, and the little blue firelizard. When those failed to suffice as a strong enough motive to live, Kelira switched to simply begging. She couldn’t lose her daughter- just couldn’t.
It worked. Arelle agreed to try, but the turmoil of pain and loss needed an outlet and it turned to resentment, directed at the woman who seemed to think that she needed Arelle more than Arelle needed to be back with Raloth. How could she understand, though? She’d never had that incredible bond. Kelira remained at Mavros, doing all she could to help her daughter recover, even as Arelle could hardly bear to face her.
It didn’t get easier overnight. Nightmares about the scoring and the loss of her lifemate still torment her almost on a nightly basis, and some days even the thought of getting out of bed seems like too much effort. But there are improvements- if slight ones- and the one thing that helped the most was when she started hearing Raloth’s voice again. The bond is still gone, but having that back, if nothing else, went some way toward easing the heartache.
Living on the edges of the Weyr now, most days simply seeming to exist and nothing more, and keeping her distance from Kelira. Rajirel and Nipper are her closest family now, and she clings to them hard, using them as a way to give reason to the life she still lives.
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.
