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 Posted: Wed Dec 26, 2018 2:16 pm
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Name: Bisera
Age: 47
Sex: Female
Sexual Orientation: Handwave??? Good Luck lmao
Weyr: ---
Rider Rank: Merc (with a squishy heart of gold… somewhere)
Previous Rank/Craft: Assassin (Dancer/Escort)
Physical Description: Standing on the shorter side, an inch shy of a standard 5’, Bisera doesn’t quite put off an intimidating air -- and it’s one that she uses to her advantage. Bisera’s frame is quite slim and thin, with athletic muscle that doesn’t give too much defining shape. Yet her hips are a bit shapely, and her curves are still padded enough that she can use them to her advantage. With a sweet, heart-shaped face and wide, pale blue eyes, she can play up the sweet, innocent look quite well. Yet for as wide and innocent her eyes look, she’s always got some form of mask up--good luck trying to see behind it. Her hair is a dusky shade, some muddled color between grey and brown in the daylight that with a bit of fussing can shine like starlight. The gently curling locks are kept in a long undercut, with the sides shaved close to her skull. The rest of her hair is in layered lengths reaching down to her waist, making times when she needs to dress herself up nice for a job easier to style it--yet also hide it up in a bun into a riding helmet. A tattoo runs down the length of Bisera’s left to her knee, a pair of crescent moons that bloom into paisley curls and tears as it drips down to the end.
In terms of dressing, Bisera goes for more darker shades. While she’ll wear looser, fetching style of clothing for being on someone’s arm for a night, her personal choice in clothing is a bit tighter. Darker shades of black and deep gold to match Hers, with small splashes of white and silver.
Personality: Bisera is a woman of many masks. Growing up as she and her twin were sent to courtesan hall to learn, she learned quickly to hide just who she was from anyone--a mask for work, for the friends and people around her, and even a mask for even her own sister. They slip and exchange one for another with ease if need be, depending on what they may come upon.
Bisera is a gruff woman as soon as some of the masks begin to slip free. Gone is the sweet and innocent escort, removed is the quiet, poised dancer. At her core, Bisera is a guarded, calculating woman. Bisera’s upbringing has led for her to carry multiple masks, and the true self hidden away. It is not too much of a challenge to befriend her, but to get close to Bisera? That is the true challenge. To get close is to have a weakness, a possibility to be hurt once again--so she has not allowed many to get into that small, coveted selection.
Her training as an assassin has allowed for her emotions to be a bit compartmentalized. For what good is an emotional killer? Combine this with how prickly and bitey Bisera can be, and it certainly perpetuates rumors and thinking that she has no empathy--and perhaps that Adenuith chose wrong. Yet that couldn’t be further from the truth. Deep into the sharp exterior lies a heart of gold. She isn’t just some trained killer for hire, with a flash of a mark she’d willingly do anything. Rather, she’s quite picky about jobs--only if someone really needs to die, or if someone just needs a talk. It tends to give a cynical point, and to a point it is true. For there are jobs she’s taken purely for the marks, yet there are others she takes or declines purely for the root of the matter. Compassion goes into her decisions to take a job or not, even if it may not seem so. It also leads to taking in stray, unaffiliated riders and folk--even if she snarks about making sure everyone carries their own weight, none are turned away unless they prove problematic. A spare bedroll and a close spot to where Adenuith prefers her cuddle pile to keep warm are always provided.
Those who are in her care--not just in her inner circle--will have a willful woman watching over them. Bisera has so few left in her life that she is quite protective of those who get into her good graces. While Bisera is not the best at expressing it openly, in private someone may find that she has her small ways. A caress of knuckles, a smile with less mockery and more genuine feeling.There’s love down in her ooey-gooey heart, even if few know where to find it. Especially her faire that Adenuith keeps as company, for Bisera will often take smaller portions for meals to make sure there’s enough food to go around if rations are starting to look thinner. Steps are measured, and with a band in tow, she needs to be cautious about their movements, about their food--whole livelihoods. Guilt has lead her to making her own sorts, though it started as just a small collective. Jacira no longer wanting anything to do with her, and her family at home gone to thread, she began collecting in strays to look after in her own way. This is her family, after she “lost” her last remaining family member. She’ll protect them no matter what.
Positive Trait List Adaptive, Compassionate, Protective, Altruistic
Negative Trait List Guarded, Guilted, Sharp-tongued, Cynical
History: In the crisp early summer morning, a pair of twins was born to a trio of parents. Bisera and her twin sister Jacira were the proud product to their two mothers--Jisin and Iraba, and their father Basi. Though two had been a surprise, they grew up loved and never wanting for anything--though with the bolstered ego of being the loving product of two stunning courtesans and a lovely harper. They grew up as thick as thieves, being the only product of their parents and the darlings of their family. Where there was one, the other was not far behind.
At a tender age, Bisera and Jacira were sent to courtesan hall to learn, taking to apprenticeship at 11. They took to the craft like fish to water, yet Bisera attracted another eye. Her ability to slip into masks, to hide away earnest feeling caught her teachers eyes--especially when she approached her mid to later teen years. For she was a kind child, yet her detachment to the moment led to her one day being detoured away from a class to interview in a quieter room. Less inviting, more secretive. She was tapped into learning the ways to be an assassin. Her eyes always remained quite wide, innocent, naive; as her body grew into more gentle curves and cleavage to use as a distraction.
Yet it came with the caveat; secrecy included silence on all aspects of her life--including Jacira.
It was the start of a downfall, for it wasn’t long before Jacira noticed Bisera’s absences. It began a long road of discord between the two, as Bisera had to hide her true course of studies from her one confidant in life. Yet as they grew into their professions, the divide only grew.
Bisera found it quite easy to compartmentalize her new profession and her life in two separate categories. At the age of twenty, her first mark died quietly of poison in his wine after Bisera had been on his arm with eyelashes fluttering sweetly all evening. What horrors that could have followed from taking another life were stashed away, for what was different about her killing a life for a beast butchered for being a nuisance? It equated out in her mind, and helped her to sleep at night--long after she walked the tables and into more contracts.
When Bisera was 21, she had taken an escort job to grow closer to a skeezy fifth-off in line to head a minor cothold. A clutch had been laid at Igen Weyr, so she would be his escort for seeing such an interesting and unusual event. The hatching, despite the rather barebones and harsh environment, went without much of a hitch. Until an egg near exploded, shell shrapnel went skittering across the hot sands as the little golden queen shrieked her entrance to the world. Her hide was deep gold, attracting the attention of the gathered female candidates for such a high-spirited queen. Even Bisera sat up a bit from where she was, curious and feeling oddly pulled by such a display. Yet the lady had no interest in the quivering candidates gathered before her. She knocked them out of the way with ease before the rest followed suit, her gaze instead scanning the crowd angrily.
Why in Pern’s name are you up there? The voice is nothing short of a barking order, and less of a question. Bisera found herself rising as those red whirling eyes found hers, staggering her way down the stands as she couldn’t break eye contact with the demanding dragon baby. Up there. Not down here. With me. Why.
The pressure, the newly forged link between them, had Bisera reeling a moment, and she found herself momentarily panicked. Here was this perfect little dragon, looking the world impatient with her--but at her. Claiming her as Hers. But the blood on her hands is thick, and Bisera swallows thickly as she stared at the little creature in front of her--when had she reached the sands? “You deserve someone more pure -- surely one of these girls would be better suited.”
The queen, anger and fear swirling in her eyes, popped up onto her backlegs and roared into Bisera’s unflinching face. Did your Adeniuth stutter?! You are Mine, as I am Yours. It matters not what you did, only that we are together now. The anger bled out into the impression rainbows, yet the fearful white still edged around her eyes. Her tone had lost it’s rage, softening into almost pleading as she feared the rejection.
Bisera gathered Adeniuth into her arms, holding her tight. For they were One.
Yet for their start at Igen Weyr, they would not stay there. Western would claim the clutch, and the newly settled pair found themselves taking strides through weyrlinghood head on. Even with a rocky start, Bisera and Adeniuth grew close to one another. The young woman felt more certain her queen had not picked wrong. But once time came for graduation, restlessness was swapped for lessons and classes. With a drive to do something, they made to leave Western Weyr. Yet, with the foresight of Adeniuth’s ability to clutch in mind, they vowed their loyalty to Western--for the sands were hot, and there would be no shortage of candidates. It gave them a safe haven to return to, and Bisera was loathe to admit that she viewed Western Weyr as her new home.
She made several attempts to visit her sister, though each time she was left for want. Shut down, Bisera’s attempts to visit Jacira became more scattered until she finally stopped trying to visit.
As Bisera made to go back to her profession, taking on jobs where she could--her morality began to change. Where she used to take on any case that she could, she shifted more to take a job here or there. Was there a good reason someone wanted her to deal with someone? Morality was an odd shift, though welcome with such a change in life. Life on the road became more complicated, however, when Adeniuth began to collect people and dragons--turning a solo act into a travelling band of companions, with people always coming and going.
It was on one of her return trips to Western Weyr that someone caught her eye -- a brownrider by the name of Unnie. She had her own machinations to take care of, but the distinct redhead always caught her eye whenever she breezed through. Yet it would be later on that the pair would meet again--fully fledged riders on the open road. With safety in numbers, Bisera invited the pair into their group and have been (travelling) together ever since.
With the return of thread, their group has vastly diminished. Dragons returning to Weyrs to fight thread, and neither Bisera or Adeniuth could fault them for it. Word came from Bisera’s home that all three of her parents had not survived thread, lives gone to the old enemy’s return. But the complicated feelings that brought about were placed in a box, one that Bisera has yet to open and deal with. Yet they continue on their path, until the call to fly has them circling closer to Western.
Other:
DRAGON
Name: Adeniuth
Age: 26
Color: Gold
Size: 50’
Physical Description: The flower that blooms from adversity is the loveliest, and certainly that is quite true about Adeniuth. She is a lovely, darker gold. For her fierce start to life in the hostile Igen climate to growing into the dragon she is today on the Western coast, Adeniuth holds herself properly. She is finely built, well toned and groomed. Wide wings that she drapes over dragons in her care. Her front legs are longer than her stronger backlegs. Yet she’s a bit thinner around the middle, if for having to sometimes share the meal wealth. Adeniuth knows she needs to take immaculate care of herself--not only for her own survival, but to give her future children the best chance at life.
Personality: This dragon is not opposed to doing what it takes to getting a job done--no matter the hurt feelings. If there’s a direct way to get things done, she will do so. It makes her admirable of those who do it, though she also sometimes gets mystified with her rider’s slow dance to get a job done. A sharp word may hurt someone’s feelings, but if it keeps her group safe, she can amend for it later. Yet she is not a harsh dragon at heart, just rather blunt and up front about her views, even if they aren’t the kindest.
Adeniuth is a collector of sorts--to an almost covetous degree. What’s hers is Hers--no matter if they may stray. Her rider was hers, and never would she allow Bisera to dissuade her to have another, less worthy. The very same, though to a lesser degree, applies to the humans and dragons that cross their path and float in and out of their inner circle of a travelling group. Even dragons or people that they have not seen for a while, have moved on and found mates, Adeniuth will forever have a small stamp and call them hers. It’s not to a overly possessive degree, where she will even be happy for them to find happiness. Yet she cannot quite help claiming what she can in some small way--for a dragon who has little to claim anything she may to call her own. She will always welcome anyone into her arms, even if it may take a while to get from an acquaintance to a trusted friend.
One trait that runs deep in Adeniuth that she shares with her dearest rider is that affection is a fickle beast. She shows it in odd ways, like an oddly-tossed compliment, or a jab at doing something a bit better. It leads to believe that she isn’t that motherly of a queen dragon. No doubt that she’s been overheard now and again as she gets nesty at Western that she ought to have Bisera charge Western for each egg that graces their sands. But it’s all talk--for she loves her children, her golden and green sisters at Western and would never be so earnestly crass. Though she may have cracked on Igen sands, she considers herself Western-born.
Yet for as odd of ways as Adeniuth is at speaking her affection, she tends to be more physical in her expressions. Cuddles are her favorite, as much as she enjoys lounging in a puddle of other dragons--whether to sleep or soak in the afternoon sun.
Dragon Art or Proof of Obtainment: Uta’s Birthday Jamboree
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