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 Posted: Sat Apr 10, 2021 10:13 pm
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Name: Ze’nai (Zeosnai)
Age: 47
Nameday: 3576.13.27
Sex: Male
Sexual Orientation: Homosexual
Weyr: High Reaches Weyr
Rider Rank: Grounded
Previous Rank/Craft: Harbinger Wingrider
Physical Description: Standing at a smaller than average height for a man, Ze’nai has taken well after his mother. His frame is light and wiry, with a crop of rich black hair that has begun to grow out in the almost turn since the fall he and his dragon took, and now falls into his eyes and past his shoulders. Usually it is kept just short enough to sweep back and tied neatly, but his injury and preoccupation with Wisirth have kept him from seeing to keeping it groomed. His facial hair has grown out some, though it’s kept usually short after he gave in attempting to stay clean shaved. Ze’nai’s eyes, once a kinder grey, have turned a touch harder in his ire.
Most of his injuries that occured during that disastrous fall ironically (and, hilariously, in Ze’nai’s spiteful mind), healed up quite well -- save for his arm. The burns have healed into an amalgamation of scar and graft, and though he can use the arm, it pains him a lot of the time -- and often keeps it in a sling. His face bears a scar where he took the brunt of the heat, though thankfully not flame itself, and burned a scar of the outline of his riding goggles into his face, before they sought the shelter of between to escape.
Personality: The first thing of note about Ze’nai is that he’s still struggling with the PTSD of his accident, in the summer of 3576. One fateful night was all it took to bring his world crashing down around his ears, and reality checked him hard, and left the man struggling to cope for months. Even almost an entire turn later has left him still struggling, and though trips to the mindhealer have helped… somewhat, he’s still quite bitey and miserable. His dragon’s sweet disposition, though once sunny and made him so happy, only feels like the twist of the ironic knife sometimes with how okay Wisirth is with their new life on the ground.
But buried beneath the trauma, still resides that sweet man that Ze’nai was at one point. He’s a romantic at heart, true as the day is long. He used to affectionately blame the Westerner blood in him that made him so idealistic. No, deep down still beats the heart of a sweet man who wants to settle down as much as he can in the world after thread’s return. Being able to dote and adore, even if it’s now only from the ground, means the world to him. Though he’s never had any sort of harper training, he used to busy himself with the idleness of a beginning poet, to craft word and prose together in the hopes to find a man who he could praise and adore. Instead, he’s more shy on his advances than he’d like to be, and while he may pine and crush loudly, being able to say such sweet nothings to someone is a whole different clutch of firelizard eggs. What if he were to be rejected? What if someone he valued as a friend suddenly didn’t see him as a friend in return? Ze’nai is very cautious, even after taking a leap to transfer away from home for a fresh start.
Yet when Ze’nai is in the moment, he’s quite adept at flowing in with the crowd. In with acquaintances or even friends, he’s much less socially awkward, though he’ll peruse over things he said for candlemarks past them being said on how he could have reacted better, said something more poignant. He was a good wingrider, who took direction well and took his drills quite seriously -- and one fateful night cut that short. But he prided himself with following orders well, and even held onto the shy dream of possibly becoming a wingsecond; nothing but a fool’s dream that now haunts his dreams. For he’s now even more time to let himself think about the What If’s even more than he did before. What if he had the courage to go say hi to that dashing bluerider? What if he had noticed Neirinth appearing so close to their wingspace?
So many What If’s in life.
Positive Trait List Romantic, Passionate, Versatile
Negative Trait List Daydreaming, Secretive, Cautious
History: Originally born on Western’s shores to Zeeva of gold Sokinath, Zeosnai was raised in Western’s creche, along with his two other siblings. He holds a great love for his mother, and her every visit always brought him great joy. Yet he grew and did his best to stand out, though his softer demeanor was often overlooked -- and that was okay, for Zeosnai had his mind and his daydreams. Friends may have been fewer in between, but he grew up happy.
His bid into candidacy was his right as a weyrbrat, and one he did eagerly. After all, his mother’s dragon was wonderful, and what would it be like to find his other half as she had? So as soon as he was the tender age of 14, Zeosnai found himself studying hard, and a hopeful heart each time he stood for a clutch -- and trying his best to not be too defeated when he walked away by himself. And wait for turns he did, until Zeosnai was almost aged out of candidacy. It wouldn’t be until he turned 28 that he would have that fateful meeting, and the sweetest brown had looked up at him and called him His. Ze’nai had cried on the sands, even if he’d had to gently pry Wisirth’s tail from his mouth, and openly wept on his silly boy’s head.
Weyrling lessons flew by in a flash, and with a team effort passed with flying colors. However, Ze’nai had set his sights on a different horizon, and several turns after he put in a transfer to High Reaches Weyr. Seeking more to challenge himself, and the nagging doubt that they might not be quite so wrong about thread’s return. His farewell with his family was gentle, but he had flits to carry messages between, and the rest day to possibly see them. It wasn’t bad, just a change to restructure himself, and Ze’nai flourished for the new mantle to carry.
With thread’s return, Ze’nai and Wisirth had come at it with a hard conviction -- and though they carried their scars, they did so with pride each time they touched back down, alive and whole. But it wasn’t until the summer of 3576 that that all came crashing down around his ears, and a disastrous nightfall had them appearing before Neirinth’s blast of flame, and charred both himself and Wisirth until they’d fallen like a stone into a queen’s waiting grasp.
It was touch and go for weeks, for both Ze’nai and Wisirth, and once he woke up, the rider spent every moment fussing over his sweet boy. It would be so long, too long before Wisirth’s remaining eye had finally opened and focused on his rider. So greatly reduced, but they were alive, and everything beyond that could be healed.
Other: The son of Hattaki’s Zeeva! A consequence of one of the Conditions rolls from the HR Threadfall back in June ‘20, made with Hattaki’s permission.
DRAGON
Name: Wisirth
Age: 19
Color: Brown
Size: 71’
Physical Description: Sitting comfortingly in the middle of average size for a brown, Wisirth is a bit more on the thinner side for a brown -- and his build was almost wiry and whip-like. Bright, friendly eyes and wide wings, injury from threadfall and flame have since reduced this sweet boy down from what he was. He’s missing his left eye, his left foreleg to the shoulder, his right foreleg to the elbow, and some of his spines down his neck. There’s massive scarring on the underside of his neck, chest, and belly, though his wiggling and flopping way of getting around have toughened up the scars as time has worn on.
Personality: Never let it be said that Wisirth is nothing but a kind dragon. Sweet to a fault, Wisirth’s permanently rose-tinted glasses never slip off his face. There’s always a way to find the best silver lining in every situation -- no matter what. Even his own injury didn’t keep him from being sunny about it -- when he wasn’t in and out of consciousness or varied states of numbness. No, even his injury has bright sides, because if he wasn’t being careful, he could have avoided Neirinth’s flame, and it’s better that the position be filled by a dragon who could do that, isn’t it? Wisirth’s words are often honeyed and sweet, but there exists a deeper current of almost sadness behind it -- usually quite self-depreciative, even if he would never admit to it.
Life on the ground has been an adjustment for him, and though he still enjoys chattering to everyone that he can, he still has quite the weak spot for hatchlings. Darling little ones that will eventually grow to face the horror of thread, so sweet as they grow.
Dragon Art or Proof of Obtainment: Nameday dragon - Mischief
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