C'len | Wingleader | Bronze Illiouth Dec 16, 2015 3:25:17 GMT
Post by Harbinger on Dec 16, 2015 3:25:17 GMT
Rank: Wingleader of the Jungle Fever Wing
Weyrmate: Ryssa (Journeyman Healer, still living in Fort Weyr)
Color: Bronze (#B8860B)
Rank: Wingleader of the Jungle Fever Wing
- For as long as he can remember, people have either been telling C'len or his parents that he is the spitting image of his father. He's never been bothered by this, proud of his parentage, with his father being a Brownrider and his grandfather a Master Smith. C'len could fit quite well into either setting.
Overall, C'len is a rather large man, that much can be said. At six foot one, he's definitely not the tallest, but he makes that up with the width of his shoulders. They are by far his widest point, and his body tapers down to his waist, and stays nearly stick-straight from there. His limbs, too, are rather large; stocky, but not burly nor pudgy. Big-boned perhaps most accurately describes him, as he is large but not because of excess fat. Though rarely seen, C'len has a threadscore going from his right shoulder to about mid-back. The scar still burns red despite being many turns old.
C'len's face is square, with a strong jaw and bone structure. His lips are thin, sitting beneath a nose that teeters on the very edge of being a bit too large for his face. Two thick eyebrows curve ever so slightly over his oval eyes, both a dark brown with flecks of amber-gold. His completion is a light tan and smooth aside from the threadscore seared across his back. He wouldn't look out of place farther north or even further south. On top of his head are short curls of a dark brown, gently brushing the top of his ears and his forehead, and kept in a largely uncomplicated style.
C'len does not put a heavy focus on his appearance, but does have enough respect for himself to make sure he, at the very least, looks decent. His clothes are often plain; just simple, solid-colored tunics in earth tones, natural-colored hide pants, and work boots. When he won't need to be doing heavy labor, he will don clothes either in rich jewel tones or earth tones.
- C'len is, first and foremost, the product of his fore bearers - the Dragonriders. Having grown up in the Weyr, he looked up to and admired the Dragons and their Riders, and tried to emulate them as much as possible. So, although he tends to stay grounded, he can, at times, get lost in what could or should be rather than what is.
C'len is, for most part, a social person, certainly not shunning conversation. While not the most charismatic man, he can get his point across or speak his thoughts rather fluently. He's a fairly smart lad; a jack-of-all-trades (master of none), and therefore tends to get along quite well with pretty much anyone. Those that he does not get along with are never openly despised; after all, it is a Dragonrider's duty to be honorable and polite to everyone. When wronged, C'len is much more likely to stew in his own anger than do anything about it, because retaliation is against the Dragonriders' code. Besides, the past is past, and he is quick to forgive and forget, especially if the person asks. For those who have earned friendship status, they find that they have made a loyal, steadfast friend. He sticks with his friends, and offers a shoulder or a helping hand whenever they're needed. He is, for all intents and purposes, a "big sweetheart."
Still, C'len can come across as a bit hidebound; his chivalry can be a bit dated and his opinions are often cited directly off records. Having originally lived in Fort, he tries to keep to the tradition put down by the first Dragonriders. While he may not vocalize his disapproval, when he is asked for input, it often will go against the grain of the Xian norm. Still, he accepts his lot with the transfer, and refuses to let Thread destroy what the Pernese have accomplished.
A strong subscriber to the old adage "what's worth doing is worth doing well," C'len has more than once gotten grief from his peers for not only doing his chores immediately and without complaint, but making sure to complete them with as close to perfection as he could muster. He is a bit of a perfectionist, and will pick at something until it is done as correctly as he can.
- Caelen was born to Brownrider C'laen and his Weyrmate, Beastcrafter Sera, both of Fort Weyr. They had been Weyrmates practically since Sera arrived from the crafthall, and Caelen was their first child. The two were so proud of their son, but with Dragons and beasts to care for, they really couldn't also care for an infant, so off to the crèche he went. But throughout his life, Caelen had plenty of contact with his parents; with Pern temporarily Thread-free, it was much easier for them to be a part of their son's life. His very young years were spent either bouncing in his foster mother's arms or his biological mother's arms.
About two years after he was born, C'laen and Sera surprised a toddler Caelen with a baby brother, Larien. Caelen was always curious about his baby brother, and often tried to help, though, at two, he wasn't capable of much. But as the two grew, they became rather fast friends.
Sera proved to be rather fertile, as it wasn't too long after the birth of Larien that she found she was pregnant again. However, unlike her first two, her third pregnancy came with complications. As her due date approached, they found that she was pregnant with twins, one shadowing the other. The complications grew, and suddenly Sera went into labor rather premature. The healers worked diligently, trying every trick they had to save all three lives. One baby was stillborn, the other was whisked away to a wet nurse as the healers tried to stop Sera's bleeding, but to no avail. At the tender age of five, Caelen had lost his real mother.
But, as young boys are wont to do, Caelen quickly bounced back and went back to being the happy toddler he was. When his Smith Grandfather would visit, the man would always mention how Caelen would make a great Smith. But, even at a young age, Caelen was smitten with the great beasts he shared his world with, and C'laen was sure that his eldest son would only give up his place in the Weyr if no Dragon ever chose him. But, of course, the Brownrider had no doubt that any son of his would Impress.
When it came time to begin his Harper lessons, no one was quite surprised when Caelen turned out to be rather studious, but no one really realized it was because he had become so intrigued with what the Dragonriders stood for. He would study his songs not to be a good student, but to hear more of the bravery committed by his forbearers. Daring rescues, improbable odds, and, of course, the scourge that was Thread. What a dream it would be to be ranked with the likes of his father, Faranth, Mihall, Moreta, or any of the great Dragonriders he heard of.
At twelve, Caelen was chosen to stand for his first clutch. No dragon would come to him, but as it was a small clutch of an aging Gold, there were many that went home alone that night. It wasn't until shortly after his sixteenth birthday that he would find his lifemate. After several eggs split, the first king of the clutch, a rather large Bronze, finally spilled from his egg. The brazen hatchling paused for a moment, holding his massive wings awkwardly at his sides, glancing to another hatchling and then up to the observers. They had torn their attention off a just-Impressed Green and onto the oddly proportioned beast. Creeling and crying piteously, he half-scrambled and half-tumbled towards the males. His chest was massive with muscles, and his long wings were getting in the way, giving it a very difficult time to move. Caelen hesitated, then moved forward to help the Dragonet back up onto its feet. A few other boys followed, and together they righted the Bronze, who creeled again as it looked up at Caelen.
Why are they staring? he cried in the boy's head. Why won't they leave your Illiouth alone? C'len reflexively hushed the young King, stroking him and reassuring him. It took a moment for the Weyrling to realize what had happened, as he had been going through the motions of his training with little thought. But then it hit him – Illiouth. His Illiouth. He slowly led the uncoordinated Dragonet across the sands, too enamored to notice that his brother had found himself left behind.
Weyrling Training was rather difficult at first, with Illiouth so ungainly and, frankly, clumsy, there were often mess ups and often trips to the infirmary. The Bronze eventually grew into a set of legs that suited him, but his wings remained abnormally long and his chest large along with it. As flight training came, things became much easier as both C'len and Illiouth learned that the Bronze's large wings gave him the advantage of power, and thusly flight was almost effortless. Their rocky start turned into enjoyment as they quickly surpassed most of their peers. Illiouth remained somewhat timid, but coupled with C'len's decisiveness, they managed to do well enough to be drafted into the Weyrleader's Wing, due to the Bronze's sheer flight power.
Thread was a constant threat, and while Illiouth was a powerful flamer, they would not find themselves immune to the scourge. C'len would find love after his first scoring left him briefly bedridden. He couldn't help but ask his healer to take a stroll after he became well enough to do so. Sparks began to fly as the sun began to set over the cool Weyrbowl. A year later he would welcome his first legitimate child into the world, a son named Caeryssan. Life was great for the time being, living with his Weyrmate and eventually having another child, a daughter named Raeca. Unfortunately, this idyllic life was not to last.
C'len and L'rien had always been somewhat close throughout their childhood. Even after both Impressed, they would occasionally get together for a drink and a few good stories. Though L'rien had mostly grown up, but the Greenrider never would truly be an adult. This was made all the more apparent when C'len was inadvertently dragged into a heist. It was really just a panty raid - L'rien was planning on snatching a pair of undergarments from a friend. He didn't expect to find the Weyrleader there doing some... unsavory things. L'rien tried to flee, only to literally run into C'len. Caught in his brother's influence, they both found themselves under the ire of the Weyr's leadership. L'rien was outright kicked out of the Weyr. C'len, on the other hand, was known as a reliable Wingrider and favored for a Wingleader position. Simply removing him would only stain the Weyrleader's reputation. Instead, C'len was sent to Xian under the guise of sending only the best to Pern's newest Weyr.
Weyrmate: Ryssa (Journeyman Healer, still living in Fort Weyr)
Color: Bronze (#B8860B)
- Illiouth is a rather large Dragon. While not necessarily the longest, at fifty-seven and a half feet, he is certainly very massive. This Bronze is known mostly for his very large wings, spanning to twice his length rather than the traditional one and two thirds. To power these, the muscle around his chest and shoulders is massive. He has a very burly look due to this, as the rest of his body also had to bulk up to support the weight of the chest. Flying seems almost effortless for this Dragon, as each wing beat moves so much air and propels him so much further. While not a sprinter, Illiouth will outlast nearly everyone when it comes to just staying in the sky.
When it comes to color, Illiouth is very classic and very uniform. The light bronze of his hide does not change as it spills across him, leaning towards an almost tawny color. The only variation comes from two threadscores, one on his tail and one on his right calf. He has the characteristic shine of all royal colors, differentiating him from a large Brown, and when oiled and out in the sunlight he makes a lovely view. This is especially true when flying, as he has the grace of a soaring bird of prey. However, once he touches the ground, Illiouth becomes, well, clumsy. When he was young, he was constantly tripping and running into things. Now, well, he does that a lot less, but he still seems to fumble when just doing simple tasks.
- Much as he looks while standing on the ground, Illiouth feels awkward. He has always been rather shy, embarrassed by his abnormal size and clumsiness. He is quiet, and usually doesn't speak when spoken to. While short, he is concise with his words and speaks clearly, rather than fumble with his words like people would assume. He can pull off the strong but silent type rather well, though in his opinion he's not very strong. Confidence is coming to this Bronze, slowly but surely. As he sees his prowess in the air fighting Thread, he can't help but feel good about himself. He has shown, with the help of His, that he can succeed.
Illiouth wants to see everyone happy, and can, at times, be somewhat codependent. When younger, he occasionally became the laughing stock of others, which he never tried to stop. He didn't have the self-confidence, and if that made them happy… Illiouth can be quite the sweetie, because he really tries to care even if he feels like he can’t do anything to help. Plus, what if he inadvertently hurts someone? No, it's better to stay quiet and alone, he believes. When Illiouth messes up, he often mentally berates himself to no end, which can, on occasion, cause him even more trouble when he trips while being too focused on how stupid something he did was.