Post by Faerie Fyre on Mar 11, 2010 0:18:08 GMT -5
Character[/b]
Name: M'klern (Maklern)
Age: 64
Gender: Male
Rank: Brown rider Weyrling Master
Mutation: Illusions. M'klern can make someone see something that isn't there, but he hates it. The most illusion he'll willingly create is to see his beloved weyrmate again.
Location: Fort Weyr
Appearance:
M'klern is a tall man, standing somewhere around six feet and four inches in height. His hair may have gone silver with age, but that doesn't mean that he has lost his virility. After all, a rider may live well into his ninth decade. By that standard, M'klern is only middle-aged, and not old.
A rider through and through, M'klern dresses the part. Most often you'll find him wearing loose-fitting, comfortable brown trousers, a slightly-stained white shirt, and a many-pocketed leather vest, if he isn't on duty. Off duty, also, he wears much lighter shoes than his heavy boots. “Old feet deserve a rest,” he tells the younger generations. If he's on duty, it's the proper flying leathers, plus his rank knots. Unlike many riders, his leathers are not dyed – they are the honest color nature intended them to be.
Old age has a few benefits. Shocking, I know, but true. Not counted among those is the presence of dragon-claws around the eyes and mouth. M'klern has many laugh lines, several frown lines, and some just plain age lines. Once, his eyes were described as 'clear, brown pools of darkness' (coughcoughA'roncough), but now, they're more accurately light brown with too many years behind them.
Personality:
M'klern looks like a grandfather, and for the most part, that's what he is; a kindly old grandfather. He doesn't have any children of his own through which to have] grandchildren, mostly because A'ron would have killed him if he'd brought it up. Still, the image remains, and that image is what M'klern strives to be. If he can't be a loving weyrmate anymore, he can at least mentor the younger generations so that they wouldn't grow up and be complete morons like some riders he knew. He rarely breaks free of the grandfather facade, and when he does, it's not really all that noticeable. Time has mellowed out an already mellow man to the point where he doesn't lose his temper much. Something sure to get him to come close to losing his temper is when weyrlings or other riders disparage the relationship between weyrmates. That was his most sacred bond besides Impression, and he gets a mite cranky when 'young whippersnappers' get it into their heads that they can find something better.
History:
M'klern was born on the seventeenth day of the ninth month, sixty four Turns ago. His parents were a blue rider and the female rider his blue once Flew, but they were not weyrmates. His mother, Klera, never could say why she kept the fetus, as it put her out of commission for approximately nine months. She couldn't explain it, but she had the baby anyways. He, of course, went to the creche to be wet-nursed, and she went back to her wing.
Maklern didn't know who his mother or father were, but that didn't matter – few of the weyrbrats he played with knew their parents. There was no stigma attached to not knowing his parents.
The Turns went by, and eventually, he Impressed a fire lizard. Bead was blue in color, the same blue as the lake a few klicks away from Fort. He would have named the creature Lake, but another weyrbrat had beaten him to it.
As a weyrbrat, weyr-born and -bred, Maklern began to stand to Impression the Turn he was old enough to. A few clutches went by before, at the age of twenty-three, he Impressed his brown Creth.
Mine, Creth is awful hungry. Can we eat, please? And I'm all sticky.
Weyrling training, eh. Nothing really exciting happened to him, nor for the first few Turns as a rider. It wasn't until he was twenty-nine, nearly thirty, that something exciting happened.
Creth won a flight.
Yeah, yeah, not that big a deal, right? Greens fly all the time, and someone's bound to catch her, right?
Wrong.
Creth wasn't all that popular with the greens. He wasn't all that popular with the queen. In fact, Creth only had a few friends, and they were mostly brown and blue. So winning this flight was rather a big deal, and one that wound up changing the course of M'klern's life.
You see, the green they flew was Mesatith, ridden by young A'ron. A'ron had Impressed at the tender age of seventeen, and this was by far not his first flight. It was, however, the first flight Mesatith had led that he had actually chosen his own weyrmate. From the time they woke up in the same bed, A'ron and M'klern were inseparable.
Creth and Mesatith were close, too, and very jealous of each other. Creth was once ordered up into the air after a queen, and after, Mesatith refused to let him out of the weyr unless she was with him. M'klern willingly allowed the same restriction to be placed on him, because by that time, he was besotted with his fair-haired mate.
A'ron became first Candidate Master, then, a few Turns later, rose to the rank of Weyrling Master. The job was offered to M'klern, who was, after all, the higher rank, but he gave it to A'ron, and settled for being Second.
Sadly, this story was to end in tragedy. Thread fell again, and with it, the substance known as Acid. Most of the riders that flew that Fall fell sick. Some recovered. Some did not.
M'klern was among those who recovered. He discovered that he could create illusions, and in the aftermath of Acid, he used that ability often on himself. For the healers informed him that A'ron...A'ron...his A'ron had – not – made it. Creth sank into a deep depression with the loss of his Mesatith. They both knew that their mates were not coming back, but they drew as much comfort as they could from the illusions.
A'ron had come to the relationship with a fire lizard, too. Her name was Pearl, and she was a green slightly darker than Mesatith. When A'ron and Mesatith died, she did not. She hangs around M'klern's weyr out of habit, but he wouldn't dare claim her as his. She is still A'ron's, even though A'ron is not there to take care of her.
When A'ron passed away, M'klern took his position as Weyrling Master in memory of his beloved weyrmate.
Anything else you want to add: Still misses his weyrmate, A'ron
Impressed[/b]
Dragon Name: Creth
Dragon Color: Brown
Brief Personality: Creth was a fastidious brown, eating neatly and insisting on regular baths. In recent Turns, however, he has let himself go a little. He'll leave the blood from his meals on his face for days after, and as for bathing, well, when M'klern says its time to bathe, he presents himself. He seems to have lost something when Mesatith shrieked between.
Anything else you want to add: Slight PTSD from Mesatith's death
Firelizard Name: Bead
Firelizard Color: Blue
Anything else you want to add: Only one of the trio still functioning well.
Firelizard Name: Pearl
Firelizard Color: Green
Anything else you want to add: Not truly M'klern's, but she sticks with him in lieu of her person.
Sample Post:
”The next thing you need to master is” thinking in sync with your ”dragon.”
M'klern and Creth were teaching, trying out their third lesson as Weyrling Master instead of the Weyrling Master's Second. A'ron had done this flawlessly, timing his words with Mesatith's with the ease that could only come from long practice.
They, too, had long Turns of practice synchronizing with each other's thoughts, but they had only ever used it with their weyrmates. Creth had a little difficulty projecting his thoughts to the entire class, but these were kids, new to the life-long bond of Impression. They wouldn't notice that Creth's voice was a little faint, nor would they notice how shaky their Master's voice was. That could be put down to the rigors of age, if need be. They were not aware that his normal range was much deeper, and that he hardly quavered as he spoke.
”In order to practice this, I am going to” have you “speak to each” other through “your dragons.”
M'klern paused to watch the reactions of the weyrlings. After two lessons, he knew them all by sight, but not by name. Not yet, anyways. Some, he knew by name, and one of those he singled out now.
“Physaya, would you ask" Chellith “to tell” Chuth “something?”
Dragons were notoriously better at remembering each others' names than each others' riders, and M'klern had not yet paired up dragons and riders. He allowed Creth to supply the names he needed, excusing it as a further demonstration of how to link thoughts with your life mate.
'klern, I do not think these weyrlings can manage this one.
You always told Mesatith that.
Don't. It hurts too much to think about.
I agree.
M'klern turned his attention from its almost-trip down memory lane back to the weyrlings, where Physaya was trying to get Chellith to listen to her enough to send a message to bronze Chuth. The bronze was ignoring the green in favor of some gossip with a nearby brown.
Name: M'klern (Maklern)
Age: 64
Gender: Male
Rank: Brown rider Weyrling Master
Mutation: Illusions. M'klern can make someone see something that isn't there, but he hates it. The most illusion he'll willingly create is to see his beloved weyrmate again.
Location: Fort Weyr
Appearance:
M'klern is a tall man, standing somewhere around six feet and four inches in height. His hair may have gone silver with age, but that doesn't mean that he has lost his virility. After all, a rider may live well into his ninth decade. By that standard, M'klern is only middle-aged, and not old.
A rider through and through, M'klern dresses the part. Most often you'll find him wearing loose-fitting, comfortable brown trousers, a slightly-stained white shirt, and a many-pocketed leather vest, if he isn't on duty. Off duty, also, he wears much lighter shoes than his heavy boots. “Old feet deserve a rest,” he tells the younger generations. If he's on duty, it's the proper flying leathers, plus his rank knots. Unlike many riders, his leathers are not dyed – they are the honest color nature intended them to be.
Old age has a few benefits. Shocking, I know, but true. Not counted among those is the presence of dragon-claws around the eyes and mouth. M'klern has many laugh lines, several frown lines, and some just plain age lines. Once, his eyes were described as 'clear, brown pools of darkness' (coughcoughA'roncough), but now, they're more accurately light brown with too many years behind them.
Personality:
M'klern looks like a grandfather, and for the most part, that's what he is; a kindly old grandfather. He doesn't have any children of his own through which to have] grandchildren, mostly because A'ron would have killed him if he'd brought it up. Still, the image remains, and that image is what M'klern strives to be. If he can't be a loving weyrmate anymore, he can at least mentor the younger generations so that they wouldn't grow up and be complete morons like some riders he knew. He rarely breaks free of the grandfather facade, and when he does, it's not really all that noticeable. Time has mellowed out an already mellow man to the point where he doesn't lose his temper much. Something sure to get him to come close to losing his temper is when weyrlings or other riders disparage the relationship between weyrmates. That was his most sacred bond besides Impression, and he gets a mite cranky when 'young whippersnappers' get it into their heads that they can find something better.
History:
M'klern was born on the seventeenth day of the ninth month, sixty four Turns ago. His parents were a blue rider and the female rider his blue once Flew, but they were not weyrmates. His mother, Klera, never could say why she kept the fetus, as it put her out of commission for approximately nine months. She couldn't explain it, but she had the baby anyways. He, of course, went to the creche to be wet-nursed, and she went back to her wing.
Maklern didn't know who his mother or father were, but that didn't matter – few of the weyrbrats he played with knew their parents. There was no stigma attached to not knowing his parents.
The Turns went by, and eventually, he Impressed a fire lizard. Bead was blue in color, the same blue as the lake a few klicks away from Fort. He would have named the creature Lake, but another weyrbrat had beaten him to it.
As a weyrbrat, weyr-born and -bred, Maklern began to stand to Impression the Turn he was old enough to. A few clutches went by before, at the age of twenty-three, he Impressed his brown Creth.
Mine, Creth is awful hungry. Can we eat, please? And I'm all sticky.
Weyrling training, eh. Nothing really exciting happened to him, nor for the first few Turns as a rider. It wasn't until he was twenty-nine, nearly thirty, that something exciting happened.
Creth won a flight.
Yeah, yeah, not that big a deal, right? Greens fly all the time, and someone's bound to catch her, right?
Wrong.
Creth wasn't all that popular with the greens. He wasn't all that popular with the queen. In fact, Creth only had a few friends, and they were mostly brown and blue. So winning this flight was rather a big deal, and one that wound up changing the course of M'klern's life.
You see, the green they flew was Mesatith, ridden by young A'ron. A'ron had Impressed at the tender age of seventeen, and this was by far not his first flight. It was, however, the first flight Mesatith had led that he had actually chosen his own weyrmate. From the time they woke up in the same bed, A'ron and M'klern were inseparable.
Creth and Mesatith were close, too, and very jealous of each other. Creth was once ordered up into the air after a queen, and after, Mesatith refused to let him out of the weyr unless she was with him. M'klern willingly allowed the same restriction to be placed on him, because by that time, he was besotted with his fair-haired mate.
A'ron became first Candidate Master, then, a few Turns later, rose to the rank of Weyrling Master. The job was offered to M'klern, who was, after all, the higher rank, but he gave it to A'ron, and settled for being Second.
Sadly, this story was to end in tragedy. Thread fell again, and with it, the substance known as Acid. Most of the riders that flew that Fall fell sick. Some recovered. Some did not.
M'klern was among those who recovered. He discovered that he could create illusions, and in the aftermath of Acid, he used that ability often on himself. For the healers informed him that A'ron...A'ron...his A'ron had – not – made it. Creth sank into a deep depression with the loss of his Mesatith. They both knew that their mates were not coming back, but they drew as much comfort as they could from the illusions.
A'ron had come to the relationship with a fire lizard, too. Her name was Pearl, and she was a green slightly darker than Mesatith. When A'ron and Mesatith died, she did not. She hangs around M'klern's weyr out of habit, but he wouldn't dare claim her as his. She is still A'ron's, even though A'ron is not there to take care of her.
When A'ron passed away, M'klern took his position as Weyrling Master in memory of his beloved weyrmate.
Anything else you want to add: Still misses his weyrmate, A'ron
Impressed[/b]
Dragon Name: Creth
Dragon Color: Brown
Brief Personality: Creth was a fastidious brown, eating neatly and insisting on regular baths. In recent Turns, however, he has let himself go a little. He'll leave the blood from his meals on his face for days after, and as for bathing, well, when M'klern says its time to bathe, he presents himself. He seems to have lost something when Mesatith shrieked between.
Anything else you want to add: Slight PTSD from Mesatith's death
Firelizard Name: Bead
Firelizard Color: Blue
Anything else you want to add: Only one of the trio still functioning well.
Firelizard Name: Pearl
Firelizard Color: Green
Anything else you want to add: Not truly M'klern's, but she sticks with him in lieu of her person.
Sample Post:
”The next thing you need to master is” thinking in sync with your ”dragon.”
M'klern and Creth were teaching, trying out their third lesson as Weyrling Master instead of the Weyrling Master's Second. A'ron had done this flawlessly, timing his words with Mesatith's with the ease that could only come from long practice.
They, too, had long Turns of practice synchronizing with each other's thoughts, but they had only ever used it with their weyrmates. Creth had a little difficulty projecting his thoughts to the entire class, but these were kids, new to the life-long bond of Impression. They wouldn't notice that Creth's voice was a little faint, nor would they notice how shaky their Master's voice was. That could be put down to the rigors of age, if need be. They were not aware that his normal range was much deeper, and that he hardly quavered as he spoke.
”In order to practice this, I am going to” have you “speak to each” other through “your dragons.”
M'klern paused to watch the reactions of the weyrlings. After two lessons, he knew them all by sight, but not by name. Not yet, anyways. Some, he knew by name, and one of those he singled out now.
“Physaya, would you ask" Chellith “to tell” Chuth “something?”
Dragons were notoriously better at remembering each others' names than each others' riders, and M'klern had not yet paired up dragons and riders. He allowed Creth to supply the names he needed, excusing it as a further demonstration of how to link thoughts with your life mate.
'klern, I do not think these weyrlings can manage this one.
You always told Mesatith that.
Don't. It hurts too much to think about.
I agree.
M'klern turned his attention from its almost-trip down memory lane back to the weyrlings, where Physaya was trying to get Chellith to listen to her enough to send a message to bronze Chuth. The bronze was ignoring the green in favor of some gossip with a nearby brown.
