 |
Name: Cortun
Age: 38
Nameday: 3536.08.12
Sex: Male
Sexual Orientation: ¯_(ツ)_/¯
Weyr: Western Weyr
Rider Rank: Wingleader
Previous Rank/Craft: Wingrider, shop keeper
Physical Description: At at average height, Cortun doesn’t stand out much. A coppery tan on a vaguely angular face. His hair is a wild array of near untamable locks, thick and gingery that hang past his shoulders. Bangs fringe into his view, falling just over the bottom of his dark hickory eyes -- it’s a constant battle with swatting them out of his view, and only properly braided into his hair for threadfall. Even when contained up in a ponytail, his hair likes to star out in wild directions. Another face in the crowd, he does his best to stand out in other ways--his merit and personality where his regular face tends to blend in. His hands have minor burns here and there, nips from broken glass working at the storefront. His clothes are often stained with chalkdust, ink, graphite -- anything he can get his hands on when something strikes and he’s able to write it down. For this, some of the calluses in his hands seem permanently stained black--for whenever he can scrub them nearly clean, they’re only dirtied once more.
Personality: At an early age, he was an early riser--shops open bright and early to take advantage of every second, after all, and he takes every advantage of all hours of the day since then. He sees things in a more calculating way, of how to get the most efficiency out of a task or job. Yet from the time Cortun’s eyes snap open in the morning to when they stubbornly drift shut in the late hours of the evening, his mind is in a constant state of work. Restlessness runs deep in Cortun, his mind fidgeting with concepts and ideas. It tumbles into the desire to sleep less, for would he have potentially more time to work if only he didn’t need rest? Yet the sirensong of bed, his eyelids, or the cradle of Menyherth’s forearms claims him to rest, so that he’s refreshed for the day. He’s no use to anyone if he’s sleep starved, after all. His never seem to be able to stop; gesturing as he talks, fidget with his sleeves, picking things off his clothes. However, once he’s in the air, all the restlessness bleeds away. He’s centered, calm -- and until he steps back onto the ground once more, the maelstrom is at bay.
His personal weyr is full of chalkboards and papers--a cluttered orchestrated chaos of a mess that only he seems to make sense of. From everything to wing patterns to charting his day off to be the most productive. It’s a downside to his drive is for his mind to wander if something is not particularly holding his attention--time for a scratch out and rewrite. His mind stays on task for his duties, mind. But his off duty is spent bouncing from task to task, covering himself in chalk dust again and again as he bounces between ideas and diagrams. Cortun tries to push himself to out-do himself--a lingering pressure on his mind that he needs to be the best he can be. Middle Child syndrome has certainly filled him with a harsh anxiety to constantly prove his worth.
In times when he gets lost, or there’s too much going on in his mind that not even Menyherth can make sense of, there’s an escape that Cortun goes back to. A chess set is usually set up on it’s own tiny table that he picks at both sides from; an activity that helps to calm and center himself. It goes back to growing up in his family’s shop, playing the long candlemarks away with his grandfather while learning how to think ahead of the game. His grandfather’s teachings stuck firm--do good onto the world, expect nothing in return. However, sometimes his tactics do not pan out for the best. He catches himself trying to find the quickest route to find a solution, for wouldn’t the quickest route be the best? Why not jump up an extra few pounds when working out? Start throwing his hat in for higher up wing positions immediately? Shouldn’t he tell someone if he had feelings outright? But seeing your work suddenly topple over from a rushed base-levelling versus doing the right steps to ensure the piece can sit properly after cooling. Yet instinct is hard to abjure, as can be witnessed by many crossed-out chalk boards before he can wash them clean again. It doesn’t stop the knee-jerk reactions while up in the air, however a calming presence in Menyherth’s fury at thread helps to stay a wild move or call while in formation.
Taking that to heart, he puts himself out to his fullest. It fuels his passion for Western, to which he owes everything. Western gave him the chance as, a middle child, to prove himself instead of being the oldest, reliable sibling or the star of a baby that his younger sibling is. He became a dragonrider, the first in his family to ever do anything. But above all else, Western gave him Menyherth. Combined with his dragon’s fiery passion, Cortun will always support his home. This passion bled into his fellow werylings, and eventually into his wingriders. They became his family-in-arms against thread, and for anyone who would ever want or need it, they would find a familial warmth in Cortun.
Positive Trait List Industrious, Passionate, Tacticial
Negative Trait List Anxious, Expedient, Restless
History: The middle child of three, he tended to be on the more forgotten side of his family of artists from Rivercrest Hold. Not the eldest or the baby, his grandfather took the lost child under his wing--oftentimes having him help out with the storefront when his father and eldest brother were working on newest glass products to sell. Yet whenever he and his grandfather were without work to do, they often played on a pretty little chessboard. The wisened member of the family taught him the ways to approach life--to do the best for others, even without expecting much from them in return. It strengthened Cortun into a model citizen, even if his siblings called him boring.
Yet when his older brother was searched, everything changed for Cortun. Literally.
They arrived at Western to watch him stand in front of a large clutch, yet destiny would not pick the eldest for once. It was a smaller egg that had been smashed open by the weight of another falling on top of another. The little white came into the world screaming, disgruntled and unhappy with all the candidates around them. The only time on the sands that they weren’t utterly cranky was the arrival of a golden sister, who had those bright facets captivated until she had impressed. Only then did they turn their attention to not the candidates but the stands--and picked Cortun out of the crowd.
The mocking voice in Cortun’s head nearly had him rocked off his axis. Because why was he up there, when Menyherth needed him down with him? They had much to do, after all.
Cortun had never run so fast in his life, for at the age of seventeen, he became a rider--and the first in his family at something.
The pair worked in equal cohesion, striving to excel at lessons. The only distraction during lessons came in the form of Neliath, for Menyherth there was only the glimmering hide of his beloved sister. The world could melt away -- and eventually, it would.
Thread came back to the planet with a vengeance, and both Cortun and Menyherth rose to meet it eagerly. Menyherth’s sleek form made it easy to slip and streak to catch the stray clumps that even agile greens sometimes missed--and even bodyblocked a shot to save a wingmate. Yet their sights were set on rising through the ranks. Shortened stamina of a white be damned--with good ‘seconds, they were determined to prove themselves able to stand among Western’s best at the helm to protect Pern.
Other: Anything else you want to add?
DRAGON
Name: Menyherth
Age: 21 Turns (3553.09.02)
Color: White
Size: 18’
Physical Description: Capping out at max size, Menyherth is a built dragon. At hatching, his size was nothing to take note -- but give a decade or two of dedicated work outs, muscle tone developed. He works and strives to be the best he can be, working out so that he can last even an extra few precious seconds in the air with thread having returned. Long legs and a sleek neck give them an added bit of height -- for he takes every little smidgen he can stake claim to.
Personality: Pern is not prepared for this dragon -- or so Menyherth has believed ever since he emerged onto the sands all those turns ago. Size and stamina be damned, he’ll live until the last moment proving that his mark on Pern will be everlasting. Western is his home, where they’ll take his last breaths defending it against thread. Would it be, Menyherth would attempt to convince one that his blood is blue, not green -- patriotism runs deep and hard in this little white.
While Western is not the traditionalist hotspot that, say, High Reaches is, Menyherth is sensitive over his social standing. There’s a drive, a heavy pressure to rise to the top that they can. Yet it’s never quite enough. Dissatisfaction is a haunt over his shoulder, an impossible thing that bites to keep rising to the top. Getting a compliment during weyrlinghood from the master? Not enough. Having a successful fall and not being hurt? Not enough, someone else in their wing was. Wingleader? Well…
Menyherth is a near vainful white, yet he has the substance to try and back up every word. Since hatching, he strives to better himself -- building up to extra workouts so as to not diminish his limited stamina, and instead seek to increase what he can even by the tiniest of fractions. There’s no illusion in his mind he can ever hope to last a full fall with nothing short of killing himself, but it does not stop him from trying to work towards it. He has an eye for detail, one that lends itself well for threadfall -- equipped with a sharp mind and a lithe body.
Dragon Art or Proof of Obtainment: Just waiting on art
|
 |
Reply
