Age: 81
Nameday: 3694.11.02
Sex: Female
Sexual Orientation: nunya
Weyr: Western Weyr
Rider Rank: Wingrider
Previous Rank/Craft: Master Courtesan (Dance/Spy)
Physical Description: Rheasilvia is nearly flawless in a way that makes her seem otherworldly or manufactured: no blemishes that makeup can’t cover, no scars...and no hair. While the latter was originally done to make disguises easier, she now shaves just because being bald is a lot easier to manage. Her dark skin is often offset by a shining piece of jewelry or two, if she’s feeling frisky, but for the most part she keeps her appearance bland if unapproachable. Such is the magic of well applied makeup. The most striking feature might be her eyebrows, which are naturally dark and thick and provide the best framing for intense looks. Her best clothes are saved for feasts, but otherwise the woman dresses like she’s never held more than a few marks in her life.
Personality: Rhea doesn’t emote well, though she’s better than she was before. While her dragon is the epitome of a soft blanket, she’s more akin to a scratchy coat you only wear because you have nothing else: as soon as a replacement is found, she wouldn’t be surprised to see herself gone. It’s hard for her to let her guard down, but when she does, her intelligence shines through quick, sharp words that makes one wonder what she’d do to her enemies. Rhea is always calculating something, able to break people down into data points that fall under pros and cons. It’s a habit that kept her alive, and she finds it useful now to keep everyone straight in her head. Besides, it’s always good to know what person is good for what job, and how best to angle it for her benefit. Old habits die hard, but she tries to use it for more positive ventures, such as pointing someone towards a profession they seem skilled for (and perhaps even having the contacts to bolster a fledgling career). That isn’t to say she isn’t above using others, especially the ones that feel indebted to her for her help.
Cross past the threshold into actual friend or family member, however, and Rhea becomes shockingly as smothering as her gold. Does someone need intimidating? No? Well she’ll go drop by anyway just to see. There are so few people that the woman truly trusts, and to earn it through skill or examples of good character is to open a stone door that is hard to push closed again. Having awoken to the fear of losing her half brother a long time ago, Rhea will move mountains if it means keeping someone she cares about safe and content. Others outside the sphere only get an evaluation for future use. Her energy and time are precious resources after all.
Music seems to be the thing to soothe the beast. Though not a musician, Rheasilvia was once an accomplished dancer whose flexibility and core strength could comfort her into positions that make most wince. She even walks on the tips of her toes unconsciously, gliding across the weyr like a stony faced ghost. Hearing music calms her like a cup of tea and can bring out the rare smile if the Harper plays an old favorite. Music just seems to stir her normally still emotional waters, which she both loves and hates, especially if it equals tears at the end.
Since impressing Eirinth, she’s begun to soften beyond her old stony visage. Sex, which used to be just an act of brief pleasure, became the venue for childbearing when she had never considered it before. Eirinth’s intense pleasure for clutching has bled into her over the years, though an outsider wouldn’t peg her as the maternal type on the outside. Sultry one liners that used to get her a step closer to bedding a noble are now prime material to make dry jokes at a flirt’s expense. Things used for survival in the past are being repurposed for a gentler purpose now. Rhea has always been a woman that could adapt, and while her outward appearance can seem frightening, her intentions are less so. Usually.
While not the warmest mother in the weyr, she saw to it that her children knew who she was and what values she respected most: duty, patience, and a willingness to be self-independent. In doing so, however, Rhea has noticed her patience for people who wrong her or make mistakes has worn much thinner, as if by instinct she’s reacting to the idea of her children being proxies to get at her. As if being a mother makes her weaker in some hidden enemy’s ugly, ugly eyes, beacons to attract old enemies. It’s a dark thought to think of children as would-be targets, but Eirinth has done her best to coax it to something positive: that it’s clear Rhea deeply loves them, even if she doesn’t say it as much as she should. Thankfully, the gold more than picks up the slack in the openly loving department, and the pair of them have taken to hovering.
Positive Trait List focused, intelligent, protective
Negative Trait List suspicious, critical, manipulative
History: A legacy entry into the Courtesan Hall, Rheasilvia had always had one goal in mind: get revenge on those who had brutally taken away her mother, a former assassin named Anyaria. While her half brother wasted his time chasing mysteries and occasionally helping the everyman, she became obsessed with becoming perfect: the perfect dancer, the perfect assassin, whatever she felt necessary to acquire skills in. It should have been frightening to her to know that she could slip from persona to persona so easily, straying more and more from the young, clinging girl she used to be. But fear was for the lesser. To sacrifice who she was in order to exact justice seemed a paltry offering when who she was was no-one at all.
For turns Rheasilvia progressed, eventually becoming a Journeyman in her selected professions at an earlier age than most due to her singular dedication. Rather than stay and pursue a higher rank, however, she chose to strike out at 19 when she heard rumors of the mercenary band that had taken the contract on her mother were on that side of the Western continent. Her half brother Fennick dogged her, having sniffed out leads she could follow, and for several turns they tracked and shadowed individual killers. Rheasilvia used her courtesan craft to the fullest extent she knew, ingratiating herself with local nobles and reaching out to Anyaria’s old contacts for assistance. It took time, but a plan eventually came together to systematically take the mercenaries out one by one.
But Rhea was young and blinded by her thirst for vengeance. Worst of all, she was arrogant. Her plan seemed to be working up until her mark, whom she thought she had been seducing over the course of a sevenday, turned the tables. Fennick had been captured prior and was dragged in, bound and concussed, and it suddenly became very clear that she had always been in over her head. A girl barely into her 20s who thinks she’s a prodigy, taking out a group of experts all by herself? Honestly.
It was only by their mother’s old contacts that they were saved. An old friend of hers had made his own plans based on Rhea’s, using her to draw one of the mercenaries out to deal with himself, along with his own contingent of muscle. Rheasilvia and Fennick found themselves in the middle of an ambush that broke out into an all out brawl. She did end someone’s life that night, cutting the throat of a woman who had tried to finish her half brother off, but the act was enough to jar her out of her cloud of bloodlust. Rhea escaped into the night with Fennick in tow, pure adrenaline keeping her from being weighed down as she carried him to a healer.
In the aftermath, she learned from their savior that the man she has targeted that night was dead. But it didn’t feel like a victory anymore. Rhea felt hollow, and none of the masks she had created could compensate. She had nearly lost the only other family member she had ever known to her obsession and pride. And what did she have for it? Blood on her hands and nothing in her heart. No, not quite nothing. She feared not for her life, but for Fennick’s, for letting him become accomplice to her idiocy. The rest of the mercenary group might look for them for their own revenge, or even just for sport. If she had to face the consequences then so be it, but she had to keep him safe.
Through the same contact that had saved them, Rheasilvia negotiated and bought passage to Western Weyr, where they settled with another contact of Anyaria’s. The hope was that by posing as cousins and working for the weyr, the heat would die down. If nothing else, the half siblings would be safer.
Any notion of staying far under the radar was blown out of the water some turns later, however, when Eirinth hatched. The young queen had been playful for most of the Hatching, having tried to take a sandal or two from candidates for fun after initially playing coy. (And some even trying to offer their own trinkets for her favor, which was delightful!) But the more time passed and her clutchsibs found Theirs, the more fretful she became, until with a wail she cried into the woman’s mind, < Where are you hiding, my most prized jewel? Is your Eirinth not enough to keep you here? I promise I would love you more than anything else I call mine! >
Already out of breath from running from the kitchens, Rhea wheezed with rare laughter when she found the gold perched atop a small hill of egg shells (collected from Eirinth’s beloved siblings), several sandals, and some strips of a candidate’s coat, somehow both pitiable and resplendent as she jeweled atop her prizes. To her credit, Eirinth did leave her trove of treasures to join Rhea as promised, though they did have to go back afterwards when all the dragons had found Theirs to collect the shell fragments. At Eirinth’s request, Rhea had a craftsman cut and shape the fragments until they could be pieced into an egg jewel for the gold to keep.
It wouldn’t be the last Rhea heard about Eirinth’s strong family-oriented ideals. After graduation, the gold fretted as her brothers and sisters separated, and she turned that energy towards Rhea and her half brother to cope. Despite having been saved by her, Rhea’s relationship with Fennick had been more that of an adult and her wayward ward. The strongest their bond had been laid in the far past as children, before murder had taken Rhea down a dark turn. It was through Eirinth’s endless fount of compassion that Rheasilvia began to relearn how to accept her emotions again, genuinely rather than for a disguise. Different fathers or not, they were family, Eirinth would say. Nothing was more important. It was a rocky round of turns that Rhea spent trying to remember what she used to be like, what she could have been before she tried to throw it all away. This wasn’t helped by the fact that Fennick felt trapped at the weyr, unable to take to the life of a simple handyman and workman. Rhea’s love remained tough, her judgement harsh...but Eirinth, inserting herself as a mediator, helped ease the tension with the patience of an eternal mother. And eventually, her rider began to open up again.
When Fennick found a job opportunity through their contacts, he leaped at the chance to get out of what he thought was a deadend place. Thread wasn’t coming back, and he could put his detective skills to better holds. In response, Rhea decided that she ought to pick up her old crafts again for good measure and “offered” (ordered) to follow along and make sure he settled in safely before hitting Courtesan Hall. Despite turns and turns of relative peace, Rhea wasn’t sure they were out of the clear. And if anything happened to Fennick after all that had happened, she wouldn’t forgive herself. But her instincts were wrong: Fennick’s move turned out well, and after nearly a month was finished, she bade a painful goodbye, hoping they kept in touch.
Training at the hall as a spy took up the majority of her time between then and Thread’s return. While Rhea wasn’t sure being a dragonrider made the effort pointless—especially with Eirinth’s nature—she felt more comfortable learning there than she ever had at the weyr. Having lost time, her master rank came closer to 70 turns of age, but the perfectionist in her had to be satisfied she finished at all. The self defense was what was important, she told her dragon, who had loved the dancing parts of courtesan life and the refined skill set to “be a master a being nosy” as the gold called spycraft, but not much of the rest. Rhea had killed once before, yes, but it had earned her nothing but suspicion and fear. Life was precious; she’d prefer to stay alive, as such, and would only use the tools learned to protect her family rather than attack an enemy. During this time, she reconnected and weaved her own net of contacts. Old habits died hard, and Rheasilvia was a woman who liked being in the know about things. Knowledge was half the battle, after all, and becoming a master spy only reinforced that need to know.
Her compromise to Eirinth had been to finish her training and then head straight back to West, where the queen felt more at ease. There she could be among the majority of her children, not to mention it would be much safer than being outside. And then not long after, Thread returned.
The only good thing to come out of that? The five turn requirement for weyrlings after graduation. Now any children of Eirinth’s had to stay under her purview for at least five turns, and her desire to hover over the younglings grows with each passing turn. Rhea fears for Fennick, though she would never admit it outside of her gold, but her sense of duty and Eirinth’s pleads keep her at the weyr. Now more than ever, an able rider and a fertile queen are needed.
Other: 3 children were born during her time at the hall, and a fourth soon after making permanent residency at Western Weyr.
DRAGON
Name: Eirinth - from Welsh “eirin gwlanog” or “peach”
Age: 58 (impressed to Rhea at 25)
Color: Gold
Size: 41’
Physical Description: Eirinth’s hide is light enough to show more veins than she would like, especially in her wings, so she tends to keep herself neatly tucked and away from strong sunlight when possible. She’s soft to the touch for a dragon, especially when freshly oiled, to the point that one might suspect pushing too hard would bruise her. Her foreclaws in particular are dexterous and very hand-like with the way they manipulate even the smallest of objects. With a mask like marking offsetting pale eyebrows, it’s easy to see Eirinth’s expressions even without the eye colors as a guide. Her long legs draw similarities to a runnerbeast, but she’s as graceful as they come when on the move. She has an extra claw on each foot.
Personality: Eirinth is soft on so many levels: physically, emotionally, soulfully, she could never lift a claw to hurt someone without inflicting damage upon herself. And yet she is so hard on herself: was she a good mother? could she have caught that falling dragon in time? was she getting too fat again? Her worries are internalized, fearful of appearing lesser compared to other queens, but at least at Western there isn’t a color hierarchy that would enflame her anxiety further. She tries to hide her insecurities behind a mask of charisma and sweet talk nonetheless.
Eirinth adores both chromatic and metallic dragons and only wants to see them do their best, whatever that entails. Her sensitivity means, however, that she tends to have a certain manner or expectation of things, and when that isn’t met she may pout or try to inveigle it otherwise. Fussy might be too strong to describe it, but particular is on the right track.
Curiosity is a strong motivator for this gold. A tactile dragon, Eirinth can often be seen snuffling the books Hers reads, rolling flit eggs around (delicately!), and always keeping some part of her nuzzling or draping on other dragons and humans. Something about physical sensation is wonderful to her, and the need for contact heightens around children, her children especially. They may grow up and even stand taller than her, but they will always be small and hers; it wouldn’t be a lie to say she doesn’t have a shard of envy when she visits their riders, though she would never say so. Eirinth has a tendency to baby even the eldest among them turns after the fact and may smother or attempt to fix their problems for them if she’s alerted—and given how nosy she can be, that’s commonplace.
This dragon can’t stand silence or emptiness. If dancing with Hers won’t ward it off, she’ll find succor among harpers or younger candidates, eager to nurse even when not clutching. When playful, Eirinth has also been known to filch little things to keep in her wallow that intrigue her: cute buttons with flattering colors, a nice blanket that has a little tear in it she’s sure no-one would miss, snacks for later...Her filching is one of the few things Eirinth is incorrigible about.
It’s perhaps for this reason that she favors the quickwitted and roguish in flights despite her rider telling her they’re no good, being personalities that draw her in the way only a true romantic believes in. While she “kidnaps” children to nap with, surely someone out there will steal her hearts just as easily? Theft is her idea of fun, though her morals keep her from being more than an occasional nuisance. Being polydactyl certainly doesn’t hurt.
Dragon Art or Proof of Obtainment:
