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Name: L'mon (Lucemon; do not call him Lucy)
Age: 25
Sex: Trans-male
Sexual Orientation: Eh
Weyr: High Reaches Weyr
Rider Rank: Weyrling
Previous Rank/Craft: Miner (Nabol slave) -> Weyr Kitchen Staff
Physical Description: Lucemon has always had a curvy and thick figure, making him feel a lot like a bull in a china shop wherever he goes, though Impression has lessened it; now he's stacked and stocky. At least he's a little short, so not everything is in danger. Despite seeming clunky in every other aspect of his life, Lucemon's hands are quite dexterous as evidence by the efficiency he cuts and measures food. He doesn't enjoy smiling as he's self-conscious of the small gap between his front teeth and the lisp it's given him. Dark haired and cropped short in an almost military-style fashion to better suit his job (first in the kitchen, now as a rider), olive skinned and freckled around his cheeks. Has some old marks and discoloration from previous work in Nabol he tries not to think about; he was actually happy to get Threadscore to cover one of them.
Personality: L'mon has always struggled with his sense of self-worth and self-identity, and though his green has eased a lot of his old issues, he still second guesses more than he should. Of servile nature, he prefers to defer to other people on what to do and following their instructions to a T. He has some problems understanding nuance and social cues, and his literal interpretations can lead to misunderstandings, which means more self-doubt and loathing. L'mon's heart is big and full of emotion, but he's much better at restraining it and keeping cool. He doesn't want to rock the boat and just wants things to remain shipshape.
At the same time, his temper is much more explosive when he does lose control. When L'mon lets himself get angry, it's an uncontrollable thing. Sancti has made leaps and bounds with helping him heal, but abuse is a hard thing to overcome, and meeting violence with violence is sometimes just easier to give into than just taking it. L'mon may, if pushed into a corner, lash out with surprising strength - physically, that is. In the past he's broken his own bones alongside others', and the shame of how he feels when doing it has made him try to suppress that side of himself entirely. It's not a healthy solution, but it's the one he's been running with for a while now. The impulse has cropped up more, however, now that he has people he considers friendly - and therefore in need of watching over; Sanctaeth's own need to step up for others doesn't help.
A simple man, L'mon knew the life of the kitchen far longer than anything else in his life and values order and trust among the staff - well, the weyrlings-turned-riders now, as well as their wingmates and wingleaders - when it comes to tackling a job. He has something of a blind faith in others in units like that: after all, being graduated means they'll watch out for him, right? and the others being experienced in the wing means they always know what they're doing, right? He believes in the best in everyone even when he has cause not to, because he was given a second and third chance himself; therefore, he tries to do the same in kind, knowing how powerful someone else's kindness can be. His empathy for others runs deep even if he has trouble expressing it.
Fear is really L'mon's biggest issue, followed by self-deprecation. He's a bit of a downer to be around, honestly, because when he does speak, it's usually to denigrate himself, or complain about something he did wrong. But those negative moments are rare because he's much too wound up to even think of confiding in anyone other than his dragon. His social anxiety, while no longer through the roof, is still enough of an obstacle for him to want to avoid it whenever possible. How many other people have to stop, process what's being said, decide the tone it's being said in, take in the person's expression and body language, decipher those, and then go through the laborious process of creating an appropriate response without lisping through it so badly, all at the speed of a walking, egg-filled gold? Much easier to just nod, grunt, and get to work again.
What few friends he does gain, while always at risk in his mind of being fed up with him, are L'mon's treasures. He would drop everything if asked for help; it's one of the few instances where the man doesn't second guess himself, because the focus is on someone else. L'mon frames his relationships at an imbalance: friends and acquaintances must be "paid back" for associating with him, and so he tails them in his free time in the hopes of being able to take some of their burdens away. Lingering as he does, it's easy to see him as a stray animal or an annoyance, though by the time you've become friend status it's already too late to convince him that it's okay to be left alone. After all, if "shooed away" as he feels he might, L'mon always returns just to make sure.
Positive Trait List quiet, empathetic, hard working, patient
Negative Trait List negative, anxious, repressed, needy
History: Lucemon was born from the union between a desperate and drunk young man and a courtesan and almost knew the darkness of the mines more than he did the light of day. His concerns stretched more towards his fellow wage-slaves, however, and he found himself helping others with their work more than his own: it was a mutually beneficial relationship that others took advantage of, while Lucemon thought he was gaining friends. He wanted to believe they were banding together down there, and even when nothing substantial came of it beyond being called by name, he thought it was good enough. His father wasn't a strong presence, and his mother had no business with him; she had wanted a daughter to groom and hadn't looked twice when her efforts failed and Lucemon had meekly stated he felt masculine. That was one of the few nice things about being in the mines: nobody gave a rat's a** what was in your pants so long as you worked.
As his world slowly grew in detail, he became more interested in the architecture side of things and attempted to learn from the wher handlers that acted as their guardians and people about the area about how they kept the mines from collapsing and such. While it wasn't a formal education, and the handlers weren't exactly professors or willing talkers, Lucemon slowly accrued information that he hoped might help his fellow miners from any structural problems in the future. He took it upon himself to try and learn about how to reinforce weak spots, what to do during seismic activity, and so on, though he never got a chance to really apply his haphazard knowledge in Nabol. At around 14 turns, his father - now a dragonrider, apparently - returned to take him back to the weyr out of...well, Lucemon wasn't sure what. Guilt? Maybe? Where and how his father got the means and money to do so, Lucemon didn't ask. He was torn between being dazzled by the prospect of leaving and guilt for leaving his "friends" behind, but in the end he listened to his father because bowing his head to others was instinctual, an a part of him hoped that by obeying, he might begin to repair their relationship.
For 10 turns after that, Lucemon served mainly with the kitchen staff at High Reaches. He occasionally tried to reach out for resources into construction, but he was mostly grateful for the opportunity to be out of Nabol and with his father - even though yet again the man went mostly absent from Lucemon's life. He was happy to work for a greater cause nonetheless, even in small ways. Of course, then "Sancti" barrelled into his life and told him he was destined for much greater things than that, and to seriously stop beating himself up so much - and how could he say no to that face?
Other: Sanctaeth's Impression influenced more than his old emotional scars: L'mon is more graceful than he's ever been before, despite still carrying himself with old caution at times. It's incongruous and sometimes frankly strange to see a boxy young man like him move so fluidly.
L'mon as a child had a bad experience in which someone's firelizard got tangled in his hair and caused a scene full of screams and bites and scratches. This is one of several reasons why he keeps his hair short and also the source for his general uneasiness around them. They seem...twitchy and beady eyed, and he's just rather not.
DRAGON
Name: Sanctaeth
Origin of Name: Sanctuary is a word derived from the Latin sanctuarium, which is, like most words ending in -arium, a container for keeping something in—in this case holy things or perhaps cherished people (sanctae/sancti). This is where she derives her name (and nickname) from.
Personality
Here is a green who wants to help. Stalwart and empathetic towards others' needs, Sanctaeth is always within reach to lend a claw. This green doesn't shy away from work or play and adapts to try and be what her companion wishes. At times this causes her to stretch herself thin trying to accomplish everything for everyone, but she would never voice a complaint except perhaps to her rider. She is observant when it comes to the wishes of others and seemingly incapable of not being nosy and interfering in granting them to the best of her ability.
Sanctaeth is no bodyguard or guardian with her small and thin figure, but she tries to be. Pouring over L'mon's memories has made her angry that the world can be so cruel to some while others shine on without issue, and her anger is quick to come out when equality is on the line. While she isn't a rebel leader in the making, she has no issue speaking her mind when it comes to the injustices chromatic colors face at High Reaches. Underdogs, the downtrodden, the forgotten or ignored--all draw her in like a moth to the flame. She is always eager to champion their cause even at her own expense. Bronze riders at it again? Famous gold rising? How boring. She would much rather be among the long-standing candidates, hearing their woes and offering solutions or distractions--and especially her friendship and that of L'mon, who so desperately needs people.
Championing on behalf of someone seems her goal, almost more than fighting Thread itself, whether it's asked for or not. This green can't stand not settling scores on behalf of others if she hears about them, no sir - the accounts must be balanced, revenge taken or forgiveness begged. She considers herself the protector of perceived injustices large and small and doesn't understand that her actions can be seen as meddlesome, or even make things worse. Her hearts simply won't let her sit idle, and she would be injured to know that her efforts are considered "wasted" on anything. After all, nothing is a waste to her if she decides to pay it attention.
But while these impulses come from a mostly altruistic place, there is a touch of selfishness in this green. Sancti may humbly disapprove of being compensated for her efforts, but she still expects some modicum of an offer to be made anyway. Why shouldn't she be recognized for her hard work when she does exceptionally well in Threadfall or in coming up with a clever solution for a loved one? Is her hide that much of a hindrance, her rider too quiet? If Sanctaeth feels slighted for her generosity, be prepared for passive-aggressive words and cold shoulders. Perhaps even, gasp, a lack of offers to help in the future! She claims not to be someone swayed by materialistic things, and yet her eyes are often drawn towards the extravagant: jewels, decorations for their weyr or saddle, bells...Bells especially delight her for some reason, their clear chimes easily audible on a windy day when she's about or if someone nears their weyr.
Size: 19'
Physical Attributes: Limber and slender, Sanctaeth is short at the shoulders but whiplike at the length; she finds this a little annoying for positioning in the air. When moving, there always seems to be a bit of a flourish or a bounce, as if dancing to a beat only she can hear--or to the beat of the bells she often wears. She recently had a wing torn through, so there's faint scars from the healing.
Additional Notes: Sancti without a cause is a lost little dragon in the wide world of Pern. Sure, Thread is a constant one on her mind, but there's always something else, someone else she must consider. More than likely she'll find herself being the secondhand dragon, even if they don't really need one - an errant squire seeking her next beast to take down. She'll find individuals in need of her help and adopt them until their problem is solved, and then it's on to the next one. Common targets are non-riders, whom she feels are underappreciated in the grand scheme of things, and anyone who is from Bitra or Nabol like her dear rider, but she'll rally around anyone she feels is in need of a helping claw.
While not quite a romantic, Sanctaeth wouldn't be opposed to finding true love. She doesn't actively seek it out, however, deciding that if Faranth wills it, someone will come into her life that fits the bill. She's a little iffy on the whole concept to be honest, as the idea of settling for just one makes her hide itch. It definitely would make her entertainment time a lot harder to maintain if someone "claimed" her, which is also something icky to this young green. Perhaps a "passion project" on some lost soul might spark something. She would be hard-pressed to like a metallic dragon just because of their general holier-than-thou attitudes.
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