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 Posted: Wed Jun 28, 2017 9:53 am
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Posted: Wed Jun 28, 2017 9:53 am
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 Name: Nadry
Age: 18 (13.24.3556)
Sex: Female
Sexual Orientation: Assumed Heterosexual (actually leans bi)
Craft: None
Rank: Weyrling
Location: High Reaches
Physical Description:
5'4" in height with an unremarkably average face, Nadry has at least finally grown into a nice figure, although she's long since absorbed that she is utterly unremarkable, and still does her best to make up for it by dressing well. She keeps herself well-groomed, her black hair long and adorned with pretty accessories, and her clothes clean and properly mended.
Personality:
Polite. If she doesn't have something nice to say, she doesn't say it! (Well, most of the time.) Not that she doesn't necessarily think mean or inappropriate things, she just has a very good hold on her tongue. She treats everyone with habitual courtesy, no matter who they are, although she does become more formal about it when speaking to someone of authority - not that she's ever actually informal. Casual isn't something Nadry knows how to be, so in that respect, she can be a very distant individual; she doesn't know how to relax, which isn't conducive to getting to really know people and making friends. She doesn't realize that she's getting in her own way, however, and is continually dismayed by her lack of close friends, and a little jealous of those who have them. She's very taken with the idea of having a best friend, and would probably be clingy if she ever found one.
Nadry is also a bit of a goody two-shoes, horrified by rudeness and rule-breaking (unless there is a very, very good reason). People are supposed to be polite, to behave a certain way, and to follow the rules. While she won't run and tattle on someone unless it's something serious, if you were to ask her who'd done something and she knew, she'd tell you. If someone is rude or mean, she becomes very flustered, because it's much harder to be polite when someone else isn't! It's in such situations where she can lose her own cool and respond in kind. If another candidate were to display more minor bad manners (say, chewing with their mouth open), she'll try to gently correct them. It's not their fault they don't know better, but they really ought to be enlightened.
She absolutely hates to be dirty, and any chores that involve the possiblity are her least favorite. She much prefers kitchen work, cleaning (but not latrines, ew), and generally the more housework-like chores. She'll do any chore, of course, since she doesn't exactly have a choice, but that doesn't mean she'll enjoy it. If someone were to get her dirty, purposely or accidentally, she'd get quite upset with them, and give them a bit of a telling-off. She's adapted fairly well to Weyr life, however, except for the ever-infamous looseness of Weyr inhabitants. That's still quite bothersome to her, and she tries to avoid or ignore it as much as possible. If someone starts talking about such matters, she'll try to get them to stop, or excuse herself if she has to. In part, this is her clinging to her upbringing and a resulting fear of the unknown, but it's also a bit of an act to cover up that she's secretly deeply intrigued by the forbidden.
Nadry is a teenager whose black and white world has gotten rather gray in the last few Turns, who's only just recently discovered a voice and the ability to make decisions, draw her own conclusions, and go her own way if she chooses, and she's still not entirely certain what to do with that. In the meantime, she holds mostly to what she's used to, but maybe curiosity and just a little touch of rebellion aren't necessarily so bad...
Positive Trait List polite, fastidious, curious
Negative Trait List manners police, overly formal, judgemental
History:
Nadry was raised in a small cothold, the youngest in a line of six children, and the only girl. Her mother, who married at 15 and began having children soon after, never took up a craft, while her Tanner father supported them. Her mother was overjoyed at 31 to finally have a girl, and put a great deal of effort into raising her to be a proper young lady: demure, composed, and well-kept. Her family isn't wealthy by any means, but it was impressed upon her from an early age that while her dresses might not be the most expensive (nor she the greatest beauty, for that matter), she could at the very least take good care of them and look presentable. The result has been a rather fastidious, appearance-conscious young woman, who was expected to attract a suitor by virtue of being a respectable girl from a respectable family.
Three of her five brothers followed their father's example and became Tanners (the second took up Smithing and the youngest Woodcrafting), but the first and oldest was Searched as a Journeyman in Keroon and ended up a dragonrider in High Reaches. The opportunity to take up a craft was never presented to Nadry, nor did it ever really occur to her that she could; it just wasn't done in her family, or really in her cothold, aside from the midwife and an eccentric old herbalist. The latter was a pleasant woman, if odd, from whom she learned a few little things, but as she reached her teenage years her mother discouraged it. It was the first time in her life Nadry experienced any real discontent, but she obeyed and busied herself with more appropriately 'feminine' tasks as her mother began more seriously exploring possible matches for her.
When Nadry was 14, her second oldest brother's wife died giving birth to their fifth child, and suddenly the inevitability of marriage and children became terrifying and unacceptable. Nadry began sneaking off to visit the herbalist, Ellinis, again, though outwardly she continued to behave as expected. One day, when her oldest brother M'yk came to visit, as he did about twice a Turn, he brought a bluerider wingmate with him, whose dragon proceeded to point out that Nadry had potential. So it was that she was Searched and agreed to go, much to the ire of her mother. It was one thing for one of her sons to wind up in a Weyr, but her daughter? She was livid, but what was done was done, and there would at least be M'yk to look out for her...who was considerably less than thrilled about having that responsibility. The idea of his baby sister in a Weyr was horrifying to him.
When Thread appeared a Turn later, he was even less happy, and began trying in earnest to convince her to leave - go home, go to a Crafthall, do anything but Stand - but she's resisted. Now that she knows she has a choice in what she does with her life, she's done letting everyone else make decisions for her. While the idea of fighting Thread is intimidating, the prospect of going back home to an empty future is far worse.
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Posted: Wed Jun 28, 2017 9:54 am
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Brown MenankithWritten by Fated Fable
Colored by Mx Cherie
Origin of Name: Menankith derives his name from the Mesopotamian ziggurat Etemenanki, which has been associated with the mythological tower of Babel. Alexander destroyed Etemenanki with the intention to rebuild it, but those plans did not come to fruition due to his untimely demise.
Inspiration: The Tower is the 22nd Major Arcana card, and is associated with the planet Mars. Those who draw the Tower are often fearful of its portents, and they should be wary, for drawing the Tower signifies an abrupt upheaval in your life and expectations. Although this card is often viewed in a negative light, it can provide critical information that can aid the reader by removing the veil of false security, allowing them to see the world for what it truly is, rather than what they wish to believe it to be.
Personality: One would think that Menankith had been forged in the fires of adversity for all of the personal flame and fervor that he possesses. He believes himself to be the equal of any Bronze, and is outraged by the arrogance displayed by many in the Weyr. Their echo chamber of self-congratulatory speech is a bubble that perpetuates an unjust system. This house of cards is unsustainable without the propaganda that they feed to hatchlings and Candidates alike. In reality, High Reaches Weyr are their own victims, taught as they teach others in a pattern of self-fulfilling prophecy. Until they can unchain themselves from this false dogma, they will doomed to repeat the mistakes of their forbearers.
On a personal level Menankith cannot stand the sort of self-deception that most people practice. He will do everything he can to ensure that his truth is spoken, that those around him are held to the standards that he, of course, sets. With all of the power of a bolt of lightning, the truth can set you free. Believing otherwise is only ultimately harmful and does not make for engagement in the world. While he is aware that he could move to Western Weyr and live happily there, unless his rider chooses to transfer he will likely find it very important to stick it out where he is. After all, a single pebble can make ripples across a lake. Perhaps his presence will help some of his brethren, and in his very fustian way he does want to be helpful.
Although difficult to approach he does not actually mean any harm. He just hasn't yet learned to use tact when dealing with others, and his patience is already strained by the goings on that he has observed. In his heart of hearts he is the every man, and he wants very badly to be a part of the world around him. With the right rider it is possible that he will be able to temper the sharpest edges, lending him a little more in the way of social acumen. He will never be so adroit as some who are happy to tell white lies in order to smooth things out. He is a deeply loyal beast, and although his friendship may be difficult to obtain, once it has been he will tear the world apart to keep his loved ones safe.
As observed in the Touching, Menankith has a truly kind heart, and deep reserves of strength. He gives freely of himself, knowing that the strength of a Weyr is in the group, not just the individual alone. He desires nothing more than to help bring others up from the ruts they've been cast into, to raise up those who have been quashed. He does not believe in the system, but rather in the people. Although he has observed goodness across every strata of society, he has found that those who need him comprise the lower rungs, and it is there that his attention has been fixed. He will follow his own star until it burns out, and even then he will fly blindly where it once led. If only he could find a way to convince the world that he is right, that no one should be shackled by tradition, if that tradition does not serve all equally.
Positive Traits: Loyal, intelligent, just
Negative Traits: Unrelenting, bitter, jaded
Adult Size: 70'
Physical Attributes: Menankith is average in every way... physically, at least. He is far above average mentally-- this dragon is definitely a thinker, and he eschews systems of valuation in which being the largest or the strongest matters most.
Additional Notes: He likes women, and he also likes to see oppressed parties turning the tables on their oppressors. He has a secret fondness for beautiful things such as jewelry and fancy riding tack.
Theme Song: Defying Gravity, by Stephen Schwartz and originally performed by Idina Menzel and Kristin Chenoweth.
Why Me? When Menankith looked inside of Nadry's heart, he saw a young woman bound by her family's expectations. A young woman who truly believed that she could not be a rider, could not be a hero, for that was not what women do. But that is exactly what women do. And with Menankith's help, Nadry has every bit the potential to become anything she sets her mind to. His desire to break down imposed barriers is implacable, and if Nadry lets him he'll take her far. He is someone that she can trust implicitly, someone who will never betray her. He can be her best friend, and her greatest advocate. Perhaps Nadry, with her command of rules and etiquette, can teach Menankith how to present himself so that others will understand his good intentions.
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Posted: Wed Jun 28, 2017 9:55 am
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Touching
all I know since yesterday is: everything has changed
Quote: They were coming to the end of their time with the eggs. Oh, dear. It seemed like no time at all, but that was what she got for getting so caught up with her first egg. She would know for next time to keep her conversations shorter, even if it did seem rude to be so very brief. Still, she would heed Siriath's words and not rush...she would just not linger so long.
I'm quite well, thank you, she answered the Empress, smiling at the sort of mental curtsy the dragonet sent before advising, You should rest when you can. It's been an eventful day, and there are even bigger days to prepare for still.
I won't keep you any longer, you need your rest and I need to meet a few more of your siblings. Nadry bid the egg farewell with a polite dip of her head and removed her hand, hoping the young gold would indeed get some rest soon.
Right. Another egg. The Candidate moved to the nearby Tower Egg to rest her hand on its green shell. Good afternoon, she sent pleasantly. Are you well so far today?
Quote: The power within this mid-to-large sized egg reverberated beneath Nadry's hand, coming up to greet her in its turn. The egg was well. It had seen many things now; injustices that needed to be corrected, and great acts of kindness and charity, as well. Did she feel the stirring within her soul to right wrongs? To rise up, up, up, until she had met the sky?
Quote: After spending so much time with the Hierophant, only to be warned that their time with the eggs would be drawing to a close soon, Nadry had resolved not to get too caught up again: to be brief - but always polite of course - and not get drawn into deeper conversation, but the Tower Egg had questions. Questions that caught the girl off guard, and did not have simple answers. She couldn't just trade pleasantries here and move on. It was uncomfortable, in a way, but also...touching? It was difficult for her to put a word to the feeling.
No one had ever really been concerned with what she felt before, with what she wanted to do. It was only relatively recently that she'd begun to give much thought to it herself, and it was all still overwhelming. I don't know. Righting wrongs is - that's for heroes, and I've never felt like much of a hero. That's not for girls. A touch of bitterness colored her thoughts, irritation over all the things she'd always been told she couldn't do. Was still being told. But I don't want to be stuck on the ground anymore.
Quote: That...
The very idea, the concept of that...
Angered the egg, shook it to its core. It could only project NO! Not at her. Not at Nadry, who had done nothing wrong.
No.
At whomever had decided that some things were not for girls. How dare they? The little dragonet with in vibrated with upset and moreover an implacable sense of wrongness. The injustice of it, of that concept, was the worst thing it had ever heard. You can be anything you want. Anything. It believed in her. Oh, it believed that she could be a hero. She could be anything. She could soar. Its essence, its being, enveloped Nadry. It supported her and drove with her toward a real or perceived glass ceiling, ready and willing to burst through it. It was so wrong that anyone might consider her anything less than the stuff of legends, if that was what she wished to be.
The Tower would not let them.
Quote: The intensity of the egg's reaction startled her, and for half a moment she was worried she'd done something wrong. They'd been told to think positive thoughts, after all. But it wasn't that. It was that she had been raised to be less, to settle, never be anything more than a girl, a wife, a mother. No one had cared whether she wanted it or not, no one had ever believed in her. As the presence within the egg enveloped her and raised her up, showing her that her family was wrong and she could be anything, do anything, silent tears welled up and spilled over.
Any resolve not to linger was entirely forgotten, lost in everything the egg made her feel. And until Uridith demanded they all leave, she had no idea anything had happened. She blinked away tears as she raised her head and looked around, confused but also angry - whatever had been done, whoever had done it, they all had to bear the consequences and leave. She didn't want to. She wanted to sink down onto the hot Sands beside the Tower and tell it everything, because finally someone would listen to her bottled-up frustrations and doubts and not dismiss them, but rather support her. But she couldn't stay. Something's happened, we all have to go now, she told it, more tears coming unbidden. She'd probably never have a chance to speak to the dragon again this way, once it hatched and found its rider. I'm sorry.
Nadry bent and kissed its green shell. Thank you.
Reluctantly, she lifted her hand, though she lingered near the egg just long enough to wipe away tears and compose herself. No one else needed to know she'd been crying. Already feeling lonelier, she slunk back to where they'd come in to wait for instruction from the Candidatemaster.
Impression
if your wings are broken, borrow mine so yours can open too
Quote: Although the golden dragonet seemed little concerned by the bits of shell that flew at her, she did watch the fight with a faintly worried gaze. Had she been right to call out her champion? It had seemed like the right thing to do at the time, but the little gold just didn't know. Maybe she'd been too hasty. He was so angry! And well he might have been, given what the Devil had done, but this was her doing. She had unleashed this rage, and now it flamed unfettered at her other brother. She backed up a step, watching, wings slightly spread.
It was then that another figure arrived, seemingly out of nowhere. The Tower had shed his shell, standing tall. With his brown head raised, he let out a bugle of defiance, repudiating his brothers' tyranny! The Devil should not have commanded others, but neither should the Emperor. And now, with the Emperor lunging for his Brown brother, the Tower interposed himself between what nearby Candidates he could shelter and the tussling forms of his brothers.
Quote: The Devil had been frightening, yes, his oily insistence that they come to him deeply unsettling, but the explosion of the Emperor from his shell was worse. The brown hadn't hurt anyone, but the bronze was a whirlwind of fury - clawing, tearing, ripping down anyone in his path, and not even because he was upset with them, but because they were in the way of his tearing into his brother. It was awful. It was wrong. It made her want to cry. Before, she had looked forward to the hatching of the striped egg, knowing it was the one Goran found special, but now...
She squeezed his hand hard without thinking, Ichta's as well, and unconsciously tried to pull them in closer to her, as though they might all be safer that way. But in that same moment, Goran released his grip, apparently intent on doing...something. And then finally, in the midst of everything, the Tower erupted from his egg and moved to shield the Candidates from his siblings' war. But she had no time to admire him, or wish, or for her heart to sink because he was brown. There was room for none of that, only worry. Fear for her new friends and what might become of them in the next few moments.
There was an urge to follow Goran, not only for the safety he represented but to help, to do something besides stand and stare, but odds were she would be more likely to get in the way and be a liability than provide any aid. Ichta spoke, and drew her from the edge of panic. She swallowed and asked, "What should I do? Is there anything I can help with?"
Besides stand here like a useless, frightened deadglow. In that moment, she hated herself for not being more.
Quote: The little Gold's panic eased up somewhat when the Devil Impressed. Now that one thread had been abated, she could take her time in ensuring that her siblings found their matches. She gave an uncertain warble, watching the Emperor with whirling yellow-green eyes. Would he be all right, too? Or had he lost faith in his? She moved across the sands to nudge the Emperor's nose with her own, giving a soft creel.
As the queen moved, so did the Tower. The danger had lessened, slightly, although he had not let down his guard. These others were at risk, still. The Emperor had not yet Impressed. They-- he needed-- to be sure that those nearest the enraged Bronze would not fall under his teeth and claws. He spread his wings, artificially enlarging his presence. Perhaps he would be unable to prevent tragedy, but he was not ready to back down.
Quote: With Goran - how would he choose to shorten his name? - gone, Nadry felt infinitely more vulnerable. If not for Ichta, she would have felt very alone as well, even with the other boy and the injured girl. With the chaos calmed, she felt compelled to close ranks again, and sidled back in close to the others, even if she was still reeling from everything that had happened. Which was ridiculous, she chastised herself. She was completely unscathed, thanks to the people around her. She had no reason to feel so..so...she didn't even have the right words for it, really. It was stress and longing and worry and shame and so, so many things.
She forced herself to close her eyes for a moment, counter to good sense but it was just a moment, took a deep breath, and tried to compose herself. She could do this. She could do anything. But that feeling from the Touching was so far away, now...
Nadry bit her lip and looked to the Tower, hope flagging but not quite gone yet. You showed me I could soar, she thought wistfully, Please don't leave me here on the ground.
Quote: Now that the danger was no longer so imminent, there was something the Tower needed to do. Someone he needed to see... or rather, someone who needed to see him. As his golden sister moved to try to reassure her hatched siblings, he left the cluster, looking for someone in particular. Carefully picking his way between the Candidates, the Brown came to a stop near where the Sun had just Impressed, his wings slightly spread. There had been a voice, just a little while ago. A message that had been dearly important to the dragonet.
My Nadry, I promised you that you would soar, and I will keep that bond, and you with it, my lady.
He bowed his head, peering up at her with whirling rainbow eyes. No one will tell us what we can't do. No one will ever pull you down again! I promise you, Nadrymine, that you shall never be alone again. You shall never be without an advocate, never without a friend. We shall be heroes, you and I.
The dragonet paused and a gurgle from his rumbling belly interrupted his thoughts. But perhaps we might eat first?
Quote: As she looked back and forth between her unexpected friend and the playful blue, her suspicion was confirmed when she saw rainbows in the eyes of the gentle hatchling, and joy thrilled through her that Ichta had Impressed. On its heels crept fear, however, a sad thought: And then there was one.
But it was only fleeting, and never so, for no sooner did she think than the melancholy voice of her thoughts was drowned out by another, one she had felt only too briefly before and had feared she would never hear again. He was here, and he remembered and he was Hers, and everything that a sevenday ago she hadn't even known she needed. Until she'd felt him and he changed everything. At the Touching, she had reined in the torrent of emotion, but not today, already feeling halfway to broken by the chaotic ups and downs and twists and turns of the most important of all mornings. She reached shaky hands for him, to touch hide and not shell as promises and love lifted her up, and dropped to her knees on the hot sand to embrace him and weep into his neck.
Nadry had been so afraid he wasn't hers, so afraid, and she had never been so relieved to be wrong. Menankith. Slender fingers wrapped around headknobs, stroked soft hide, and she revelled in the knowledge that she would never be alone again. Never less. We'll do everything, she promised, Anything.
Including eat. A little laugh bubbled up then, teary and snotty and completely unladylike, but no one would know but Menankith. And Ichta and...Aurinkoth, her brown supplied. Her brown. Her brown. Her brother was probably apoplectic up in the Stands, and she laughed again at the thought.
And Ichta was speaking, and the sand was very hot, and Menankith was hungry. She rose on unsteady feet, but he was there to support her and always would be. Beaming through still-streaming tears, she nodded to the girl who had been fellow Candidate and was now fellow Weyrling. "Yes. Let's go."
Menankith crooned over at his blue brother, deeply approving of his choice. Theirs had been here for each other, just-met but already tightly bound, these two young women and Elzebuth's, and they would stay together now. They could all be so much.
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Posted: Wed Jun 28, 2017 9:57 am
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Posted: Wed Jun 28, 2017 9:57 am
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Posted: Wed Jun 28, 2017 9:58 am
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Posted: Wed Jun 28, 2017 9:59 am
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Assorted
Art, Nadry:
Sketch Headshot, demon_pachabel
Headshot, demon_pachabel
Utilitarian Outfit, demon_pachabel
Red Dress, demon_pachabel
Playing Pirate, demon_pachabel
Mermaidry, Lynndy Lee
Art, OT3:
OT3, snegovski
OT3, shuravf
OT3, istehlurvz
Expecting OT3, auarjun
Nadry/C'lusi, panpan
Nadry/R'shahar, panpan
C'lusi/R'shahar, panpan
Art, Menankith:
Markers, demon_pachabel
Fanciness, demon_pachabel
BFF Trio, demon_pachabel
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