Age: 41
Sex: Male
Sexual Orientation: Heteromantic bisexual
Weyr: Western Weyr
Rider Rank: Weyrlingmaster Second, Star Flame Rider
Previous Rank/Craft: Blacksmith/scout
Physical Description:
Slightly above average height, and stocky, O’dyn stands at 6’1, with a well-defined, muscular physique. He is built for endurance and stamina, but consistent sword-practice and use has taught him dexterity, and how to be light on his feet. He is a naturally imposing man, and at first glance may startle the less prepared with a somewhat gruff demeanour. With his dark skin and complexion, O’dyn very rarely burns in the summer.
But then- ah, his smile. Warm and affectionate, there’s a slightly infectious quality to it. He can light up a room with a well-meaning look and a jovial ‘hello’, and it is difficult not to feel at least slightly at ease around him. O’dyn’s face is angular, with high cheekbones and a very well-defined jawline. He sports a permanent five o’clock shadow, with hints of roguish stubble that he keeps because Denyna found it irresistible. His once-raven black hair is now streaked with a little grey, which he believes is dignified, but he has been fortunate enough to keep most of it on his head. It grows more upwards than anything else, and he keeps it cut short enough that he can style it ever so slightly, giving him a fly-away kind of look. He might claim otherwise, but O’dyn has a very slight vain streak in him.
A large scar trails down the left-side of his face, from forehead to jawbone. It passes through his left eye, covered by an eyepatch: what once was spring green is now milky white. He has learnt to compensate with his right, and very rarely appears to struggle with daily tasks or dragonrider duties.
His taste in clothing tends to be limited by his duties, but he likes darker colours with bold accents, and prefers layers. O’dyn also has a secret, undisclosed love for ‘swishy’ fabrics, and may or may not wish for capes to make a comeback someday soon. His favourite item of clothing is a long overcoat with detachable sleeves- suitable for both training and riding depending on the occasion.
Personality:
O’dyn had always imagined himself a strong man: intelligent, they had said, and outstandingly moral and brave. The kind of man whose face would be on propaganda posters, were it some old Earth war movie; the kind of man a loving partner would look to in times of need. He was a hero in his own mind. That, in turn, made him reckless in his youth. Confident and self-assured, O’dyn never felt challenged by anything or anyone. He never felt afraid. Not until he thought he’d lost almost everything that mattered.
As a boy, Xorridyn was gutsy: a lot of his natural-born curiosity is still alive today. O’dyn has a quick mind, and adapts to new situations well. The man has a fondness for humour- silly jokes, and especially dad jokes now that he is older. He’s the kind of fellow who would answer “hello hungry” when pestered for food. He’s also the kind of man who delights in leisure time, for there is never enough time, in his opinion, to appreciate the world as it is. He is filled with an endearing (and enduring) joie-de-vivre.
But he is also a man who has known loss and hardship. He has been shaped by them, his once indomitable, naive spirit now hardened by life’s cruel lessons. Strict and morally righteous, his personal code of ethics and principles guides him on a daily basis: this is part of what drives him to be a better person, to get up out of bed and face the day even if the worst has yet to come. He is rather gentlemanly and courteous, preferring to treat everyone with a great amount of respect until they have proven themselves dishonourable.
The other part of what drives him is feeling needed, which he obtains by protecting his rather extensive ‘family’. His wingmates, his children, his friends, the fosters from the creche- any lost or wandering soul is just another innocent person who needs him. Because of this, he can be quite intrusive- sticking his nose in other people’s business, offering unsolicited advice… and perhaps, worst of all, holding others to his own personal standards, and especially his moral code of honour. O’dyn has cultivated a tone that brooks no argument; he expects those under his direct care to obey him, because he believes he knows best, and that he has seen and imagined every mistake that might happen. Don’t look for trouble, don’t go picking fights… his uncompromising ways, on this subject, can cause friction.
There are those who appreciate his steadfast dedication to others, and value the weighty sacrifice he would be willing to make on their behalf. O’dyn is known to throw himself into the fray to intervene in more physical squabbles, and the reckless abandon with which he treats his life has been a notable lifelong companion. He is caring, compassionate, and good at listening to those who see past his ‘papa-bear’ facade and put up with his more controlling tendencies. After a while, it becomes a matter of simply nodding and cherry-picking which bits of his advice you might wish to follow.
He has a strong grip on his emotions, and rarely, if ever, shows them in public. Oh, he has a jovial, pleasant, joking facade, and he can be curt and final when he decides to intervene in a dispute; but no sadness. No fear. No guilt. He has no time for personal weakness- not when every day is a new challenge to do right by his family. Besides, he wants to be the rock people lean on in times of need, and rocks are usually good at not breaking. His iron will stops any cracks from showing in this permanent mask, and very few ever see the brokenhearted man beneath the warm smile.
The survivor’s guilt complex is an ever-present shadow at the back of his mind. He works tirelessly to rid himself of it, to feel equal to the gift that is his life, and at times may burn the candle at both ends to see his task complete. He can be a little bit self-destructive in that regard, and may require some intervention- from Ansheth, or others- to keep himself from burnout or exhaustion. Still, O’dyn takes a great amount of pride in his work, and the only job worth doing is a job well done. His high standards are applied to those under his care, too: through masterful use of guilt-trips and well-practiced disappointed-looks, he pushes others to excel. Harshness it not always the best teacher, in his opinion, though he has no qualms in delivering a sobering dose of reality with calculated words and a cool tone.
Positive Trait List: protective - brilliant sense of humour - brave - family-inclined
Negative Trait List: overbearing - reckless - guarded - deep-seated guilt complex
History:
Trigger warning: violence, death
Born the only child of Bluerider O’ric and Greenrider Seidy, Xorridyn grew up at Western Weyr surrounded by dragons. He was given over to the creche as an infant, but was one of the privileged whose parents made an effort to visit him. From a tender age, he was instilled with a love for large families: surrounded by weyrbrats, weyrfolk and riders, Xorridyn was never alone. Family- blood and chosen- were the most important thing in his world.
He grew into a confident young man, whose natural charisma and sense of fun drew folks to him. He wasn't necessarily a born leader: he was content in following orders if he understood the sense behind them, and his questions never came from a place of rebellion, but curiosity. He was a bright man in Harper lessons, but was drawn to a more physical life. At twelve, he apprenticed to a smith stationed at Western Weyr, despite recommendations to choose the Harper or Healercraft. His interest was not only in learning to become a blacksmith, but also learning swordsmanship- which twelve-Turn-old Xorridyn thought was the coolest. It wasn't the coolest thing on Pern- he still possessed the naive, youthful fantasies of being a dragonrider.
At fourteen, he embraced his weyrborn, rider-blood privileges and took the opportunity to Stand. It was not the first, nor the second hatching, that made Xorridyn’s dream come true, but the third. As the hot sands burned the soles of his feet, a large, whitish egg rocked back and forth before positively exploding, showering nearby neighbours with egg fragments.
I do beg your pardon. Forgive me, please, that was quite an upset. Shan’t happen again. Oh, oh O’dyn... your Ansheth hopes he wasn’t too late. Let’s hurry and eat, shall we? There's so much to do!
The bronze was an animated creature, straight from the shell, and moved as though Rukbat would never rise on tomorrow. Ansheth added a great deal of energy and purpose to O’dyn’s life, shaping his desires into something more tangible: rising through the ranks of the Weyr, becoming a man to be respected and beloved by its inhabitants…
And for five Turns, that was exactly what they strove for. They flourished in training, soaking up lessons and learning and putting in extra practice. When they graduated, they were ready and willing to take up whatever duty the council leaders assigned them.
And then, sometime in his twentieth Turn, O’dyn fell in love with a beautiful yet enigmatic woman at a Gather in Rivercrest. Ansheth was more than amenable to the idea of travelling and seeing the world. Oh, he deeply, truly loved his Weyr, but there was a great, vast Pern out there that had yet to reveal all of its secrets. His curiosity could not be satisfied with recounts from books or Harper stories.
Denyna was the daughter of a rather wealthy merchant man called Deskyn, whose caravan served part of the Western trade routes. O’dyn signed on to work with them, leaving Western with little more than a ‘I have to see about a woman,’ and a promise to someday return. Ansheth would hold him to it, if nothing else.
His courtship with Denyna was formal and slow, given that they lived under the watchful gaze of their fellow caravaners. Yet, they would steal precious moments away, soaring over the western landscape astride Ansheth, soaking up a whole new world that encompassed the three of them. Eventually, Deskyn approved their union, and at age twenty-three they had their first child together: a daughter, whom they called Orryxa. Two Turns later, Denyna gave birth to a son they named Dennox. Parenting was now a full-time adventure, although he balanced fatherhood with scout and caravan duties whilst Denyna continued her harpering and mothering their children.
It all came to an abrupt and sudden end when, one warm summer’s day in his thirty-first Turn, the caravan was ambushed. O’dyn and Ansheth had been scouting ahead, but the armed thieves had taken cover in a copse, waiting for their passage before striking. Ansheth heard the clamour of fighting, as well as Denyna’s cries for help, and returned Between to assist them.
O’dyn didn’t think as he leapt down from his dragon’s back, giving the bronze his head to inflict as much pain and suffering as possible upon the assailants. He drew his own sword and jumped into the fray, the rush of blood and adrenaline clouding his vision as the instinct to defend overrode his common sense. The bronzerider sustained a serious injury as he fought to protect his loved ones: a glancing swing from a sword left a long scar down his face, blinding him in the process. The caravaners eventually won- but not without great personal loss: both Deskyn and Denyna were amongst the dead, and a number of others were wounded or deceased as well.
Pain and exhaustion, as well as Ansheth’s own mirrored anguish, dragged the man back from his self-righteous fury. The news of his beloved’s death was delivered to him, and O’dyn experienced the single most awful, heartbreaking moment of his life. His world shattered. Silence filled his soul as Ansheth erupted into a great and haunting keen, a cry of mourning that rent the air more readily than any blade had. The ringing note of torture pierced the man’s soul as he dropped to his knees, weeping bloody tears over the body of his beloved.
Of that day, very little else is remembered. The searing hot pain in his face was a reminder that some of his caravan-kin had survived, and needed urgent treatment. The sight of the overall carnage, wrought by bandit and caravanner alike, sent waves of nausea through his stomach. He did his best to steel himself against his own weakness, and bundled the survivors aboard Ansheth’s back, ushering his dragon back to Western Weyr- the mental image as familiar as it was comforting.
Ansheth’s surprise and sudden appearance was met with confused bugles of greeting from the Weyr’s watchdragons, but their plight quickly became known as the bronze dragon relayed his rider’s pain to the Weyr’s leaders. Healers flocked to attend the group in the weyrbowl. Through numbed pain and a hazy mind, O’dyn begged and pleaded that his caravan-family be given sanctuary at the Weyr, offering any and all of his services until his final breath. Memories of that particular conversation are blurry and inconsistent as well- but the caravanners were given protection.
He spent a few sevendays recovering in the infirmary, adjusting physically to the loss of half of his eyesight. Ansheth did not leave his side in the meantime, and his children, 8 and 5, were cared for by Western’s creche workers. The loss of his wife was much harder for him to process, and it was only the Weyr leadership’s delivery of constant, physical work that kept him from dwelling, as well as visits with a mindhealer. He found Denyna difficult to talk about, and preferred to throw himself into his work. Of death, and the bloody work his hands had committed, he tried not to think at all.
Gradually, over the Turns, some of the caravanners dispersed across Western, returning to Holds, or moving back to the northern continent instead.
O’dyn grew extremely protective of both Orryxa and Dennox, though he knew the Weyr would look out for his family as well. He vacillated between overbearing and wanting to pull back, hoping they would grow to find independence and joy in their own time. To this day, he reminds them that he is always there for them if they need him, and tries to limit his interference to mild and minor unwanted advice. Gone are the days when he would have hourly checkups with the creche workers- now he just finds himself having infrequent chats with their supervisors instead…
It took Turns of rigorous training to adjust to his half-vision, but he was invited back into the Wings after a Turn and a half, having proven himself capable and competent at every basic skill. He became known, once more, for his enduring good humour and his calm level-headedness, though he hid his sorrow beneath a smile, and willfully pushed aside the vague, blood-soaked memories lurking in the shadows of his mind. Fighting waves of guilt and shame, he succeeded in presenting a facade of a well-adjusted rider, companionable, social and caring. Ansheth’s steady presence was a boon and a balm, and without his dragon O’dyn wasn't sure he would have survived. Still, it was a pain for the two of them to bear, and the two of them alone.
With the return to Thread, O’dyn and Ansheth have become even more active, and slightly more cautious and protective of their wingmates. In recent times, he was offered the position of Weyrlingmaster Second, partially given his aptitude for learning fighting skills despite the physical challenge of being blind in one eye, but also because he volunteered to mentor those who were struggling, if they so desired it. His caring nature made him popular with those who needed a pillar to lean on, but the leadership also knew that he was not a man to be trifled with: his strength came from an unbreakable spirit and a loving heart.
Other:
Family:
- Mother: Seidy of Green Lirasheth
Father: O’ric of Blue Volunath
Wife: Denyna {deceased}
Daughter: Orryxa {-23}
Son: Dennox {-25}
3571.03.27
Killakeeth x Ansheth
25 Eggs
0 gold / 4 bronze / 5 browns / 8 blue / 7 greens / 1 white
Name: Ansheth
Age: 26
Color: Bronze
Size: 45’
Name Origin: An'she is the Taur-ahe word for the sun. In Tauren mythology, An'she is the right eye of the Earth Mother. He sacrifices part of his life to let the Tauren know the day is coming, by bleeding on the sky. He is revered by Tauren priests and paladins.
Physical Description:
A hulking, massive creature, at first sight Ansheth looks… well, ungainly, really. Muscular despite himself, he is all hard angles and rippling bulges; not a single mark of finesse upon his hide. He seems ever so slightly forwards-balanced, with a slight bullish look if seen head-on. Surprisingly- or perhaps, not so surprisingly- he is a strong flier, but not merely in endurance. He battles all manners of weather conditions with grace befitting a bronzen warrior, and though he might not be able to execute wingtip turns on a point like his smaller brethren, he certainly does his best. What he lacks in agility, he makes up for in effort.
He is strikingly coloured- a bright, sunny bronze that draws the eye, and dimpled with deep bronze freckles right down the underside of his body. Ornate, floral patterning seem to trace his eye and tail, perhaps in tribute to his love for nature and the wilderness. His gentle, courtly manners are demonstrated in how he holds himself- with effortless poise and a deep, solemn respect for his peers. He has nailed the draconic equivalent of bowing, and knows how to keep his body from getting in the way and becoming a tripping hazard (as is proper, of course).
Personality:
If Pern had ever known the knights and knighthood of feudal Earth, Ansheth might be thought of as one of their illustrious paragons of virtue, desiring to lead the way into a greater, brighter tomorrow. Honourable and loyal, he is devoted to those who have earnt his trust, a friend until the end. He has a great respect for those who lead, regardless of their colour, and may be somewhat blind to their shortcomings due to his unwavering loyalty.
However, he is a very morally principled dragon, and will always endeavour to take the high road. He expects his leaders- and his peers- to do the same. Courteous, with manners befitting a noble Lord, he is diligent in offering his respects to the fairer folk, and honouring those who have fought well in Fall or performed well in Flights or drills. He is a conscientious comrade, and a good ally to have by one’s side, no matter the situation.
Beneath this veneer of bronze authoritarian stuffiness, is a youthful spirit yearning to see the world. Ansheth has a childlike curiosity and a great interest in nature. He marvels at sunsets, he delights in a good hunt, and shows endless fascination for how the world continues to work despite the horrors that befall it. His spirit, like O’dyn’s, cannot be broken by setbacks or obstacles: he is stubbornly, bullishly devoted to the protection of Pern and its inhabitants, and doesn’t judge any single individual for their past mistakes. Afterall, Ansheth has the wisdom to appreciate that it takes all kinds to make a world. He hopes- fervently, passionately believes- that everyone can be redeemed.
His goal is to lead those under his care through danger unscathed; though this is not always possible, and loss must be endured. He unfortunately has a good memory for names, and tends to hold on to those who have passed a little longer than normal. He doesn’t grieve as a human might, but instead becomes more steadfast and single-minded about his duties. He can be quite blunt when he gives advice to those who have erred, but it comes from a place of worry and caution. No costly mistake ought to be repeated.
He is a sociable creature, enjoying conversations and debates with his peers. He has a good sense of diplomatic tact when the situation calls for it, and will happily act as mediator between parties. When it comes to Flights, Ansheth enjoys chasing, but secretly harbours the hope of meeting a dragon who would return his affections as ardently as he does. He has seen how love can change and save a person, and he wants that for himself.
Dragon Art or Proof of Obtainment: Here! <3
