Post by Onyxaeon on Aug 24, 2011 4:21:42 GMT -5
Weyr: Skrull Island
Name: Patrón, also known as “Tequila”
Gender: Male
Sexuality: He's decided he must be homosexual...
Rank: Candidate
Age: 19
www.wheninrometours.com/customimages/stallion.jpg
Appearance: Patrón comes in at about a fairly average 5'11". Nothing too intimidating or overpowering, but enough to get most of his points across and to prevent himself from being accosted. Years of managing and training runners have distributed close tp 198 lbs of muscle around his body, mosly lingering in his upper torso and arms. The sinews are chorded, but not bulging, and display a rather nice subtle hint of strength to them that most would perceive as the build of a farm hand. It has porpotioned around his body nicely, leaving a distinctive carrot shape where te body is larger near the head and narrows down at the waist. Those many years outdoors tanned his skin a near permanent shade of olive completion though in the winter months it does fade to a light tan.
His face is composed of soft angles that give him a slight feminine look in certain lights or settings. This is not really helped by the fact he bears a slightly rounded nose and full lips, all of which is higlighted thanks to his higher set cheekbones. The only real saving grace are his eyes and even those betray him with long lashes. The irises are a startling shade light gray with flecks of green scattered throughout the colored portion of his eyes that give him a rather startling appearance and a formidable, sultry gaze when he so chooses. That was perhaps the reason most, if not all, women from the Hold fell into his bed during his numerous drunken escapades before his 'incident' that halted all that fun.
The top off his carrot frame, Patrón sports thick, and I do mean wrap-your-hands-in thick, black hair. Whisps of a darker brown seem to probe this way and that into the mop with the occasional sun streaked lighter brown falling mostly against the crown of the skull. The rest of his hair falls to about mid neck and runs down the sides of his jaws, mingling into the sideburns. Those locks that sweep across his forehead are kept just a touch shorter than those at the back of his head but, more often than not, they simply flip into waves against the top of his head rather than having to be cut too frequently.
Personality: Patrón is a character that's for sure. He has a strong system of roots that have taken a rather firm hold in his mind and given him fairly proper mannerisms. Politeness and chilvary roll off of his skin from years of conditioning, and he has learned well when it is appropriate to speak and when it is best to simply be quiet and let others figure things out for themselves. That said, that does /not/ mean he chooses to exercise those learned skills. Especially when he's drunk. Only when he's drunk. For the most part...Kinda sorta not really maybe but still. All joking aside, Patrón s actually fairly well involved with tradition; perhaps that is the reason he has managed to assimilate into Weyr life so easily among his seniors (his peers have decided him somewhat off and are still wary of him after his odd entrance into the Weyr and his actions at the Trial of Courage). He doesn't like to deviate from things he's grown accustomed to over the years (like those family gatherings where everyone's got a cup of klah and sharing stories around the fire in the winter months) and it saddens him deeply to know that most of those traditions he cherished at home are on longer available to him. He's decided that was probably all for the best and is doing his best to get acquainted with and master all of the traditions of Skrull.
When not intoxicated, Patrón displays a fairly urbane demeanor. He is not overly loud or quite, stays to himself but approaches the small talk conversations with enthusiam, and keeps himself well knowledgable of simple matters such as the weather and the newest piece of news from all surrounding Holds and Weyrs. Most candidates tend to stray away from him (he has not thoroughly been accepted yet despite his best efforts) though they all would agree he's the person to go to should you want to keep up with the times. He's gotten into so many conversations with people well beyond his turns that Patrón has quickly managed to learn how most of the Weyr and Caverns run, including all of the little details like whose carrying whose kid currently and who decided to cut their hair waaayyyyyy too short. That said he detests idle gossip and, once someone starts a "Did you hear what..." sentence he quickly takes his leave. Only the facts matter, and senselessly repeating possibly untrue information only pollutes the wells to gather information from. Intoxicated, it's a different story. The fairly well-put-together man thrives in socializing and becomes the literal life of the party. His natural good humor bubbles to the surface and he can successfully con just about anyone with a little bit of liquid courage in him. He's a terrible party animal, loves his drinking games, and can pull off some serious dances moves that he other wise would normally consider 'improper' behavior amongst company. He becomes almost jock like in his actions and tends to go out of his way to make sure everyone's having just as awesome of a time as he is without being pushy, annoying, or "that drunk guy over there".
He's from the mindset that if you want it-whatever it is-it's gotta be real, that feeling you're feeling. That if you fight for it, it's gotta be worth it. To Patrón, everything usualy is. It's all about persuing and chasing after life, all about moving forward and striving to make that next great step. He loves life and discoveries because he recognizes his own mortality. We all die sometime and he's looking to leave a fairly large footprint behind to mark his path. He finds it hard to complain compared to just about everything else on Pern that could go wrong, especially considering how he's been given a second chance. It's important to offer mercy instead of justice. It's necessary to recognize that there are thers to consider beside yourself, something Patrón makes a point of. It's probably the reason he keeps up with the news. Play comes after work, love comes after you can provide for her and can keep her happy. Everything else, that's your job to obtain. He knows this and, because of it, he is not in need.
Name: Patrón, also known as “Tequila”
Gender: Male
Sexuality: He's decided he must be homosexual...
Rank: Candidate
Age: 19
www.wheninrometours.com/customimages/stallion.jpg
Appearance: Patrón comes in at about a fairly average 5'11". Nothing too intimidating or overpowering, but enough to get most of his points across and to prevent himself from being accosted. Years of managing and training runners have distributed close tp 198 lbs of muscle around his body, mosly lingering in his upper torso and arms. The sinews are chorded, but not bulging, and display a rather nice subtle hint of strength to them that most would perceive as the build of a farm hand. It has porpotioned around his body nicely, leaving a distinctive carrot shape where te body is larger near the head and narrows down at the waist. Those many years outdoors tanned his skin a near permanent shade of olive completion though in the winter months it does fade to a light tan.
His face is composed of soft angles that give him a slight feminine look in certain lights or settings. This is not really helped by the fact he bears a slightly rounded nose and full lips, all of which is higlighted thanks to his higher set cheekbones. The only real saving grace are his eyes and even those betray him with long lashes. The irises are a startling shade light gray with flecks of green scattered throughout the colored portion of his eyes that give him a rather startling appearance and a formidable, sultry gaze when he so chooses. That was perhaps the reason most, if not all, women from the Hold fell into his bed during his numerous drunken escapades before his 'incident' that halted all that fun.
The top off his carrot frame, Patrón sports thick, and I do mean wrap-your-hands-in thick, black hair. Whisps of a darker brown seem to probe this way and that into the mop with the occasional sun streaked lighter brown falling mostly against the crown of the skull. The rest of his hair falls to about mid neck and runs down the sides of his jaws, mingling into the sideburns. Those locks that sweep across his forehead are kept just a touch shorter than those at the back of his head but, more often than not, they simply flip into waves against the top of his head rather than having to be cut too frequently.
Personality: Patrón is a character that's for sure. He has a strong system of roots that have taken a rather firm hold in his mind and given him fairly proper mannerisms. Politeness and chilvary roll off of his skin from years of conditioning, and he has learned well when it is appropriate to speak and when it is best to simply be quiet and let others figure things out for themselves. That said, that does /not/ mean he chooses to exercise those learned skills. Especially when he's drunk. Only when he's drunk. For the most part...Kinda sorta not really maybe but still. All joking aside, Patrón s actually fairly well involved with tradition; perhaps that is the reason he has managed to assimilate into Weyr life so easily among his seniors (his peers have decided him somewhat off and are still wary of him after his odd entrance into the Weyr and his actions at the Trial of Courage). He doesn't like to deviate from things he's grown accustomed to over the years (like those family gatherings where everyone's got a cup of klah and sharing stories around the fire in the winter months) and it saddens him deeply to know that most of those traditions he cherished at home are on longer available to him. He's decided that was probably all for the best and is doing his best to get acquainted with and master all of the traditions of Skrull.
When not intoxicated, Patrón displays a fairly urbane demeanor. He is not overly loud or quite, stays to himself but approaches the small talk conversations with enthusiam, and keeps himself well knowledgable of simple matters such as the weather and the newest piece of news from all surrounding Holds and Weyrs. Most candidates tend to stray away from him (he has not thoroughly been accepted yet despite his best efforts) though they all would agree he's the person to go to should you want to keep up with the times. He's gotten into so many conversations with people well beyond his turns that Patrón has quickly managed to learn how most of the Weyr and Caverns run, including all of the little details like whose carrying whose kid currently and who decided to cut their hair waaayyyyyy too short. That said he detests idle gossip and, once someone starts a "Did you hear what..." sentence he quickly takes his leave. Only the facts matter, and senselessly repeating possibly untrue information only pollutes the wells to gather information from. Intoxicated, it's a different story. The fairly well-put-together man thrives in socializing and becomes the literal life of the party. His natural good humor bubbles to the surface and he can successfully con just about anyone with a little bit of liquid courage in him. He's a terrible party animal, loves his drinking games, and can pull off some serious dances moves that he other wise would normally consider 'improper' behavior amongst company. He becomes almost jock like in his actions and tends to go out of his way to make sure everyone's having just as awesome of a time as he is without being pushy, annoying, or "that drunk guy over there".
He's from the mindset that if you want it-whatever it is-it's gotta be real, that feeling you're feeling. That if you fight for it, it's gotta be worth it. To Patrón, everything usualy is. It's all about persuing and chasing after life, all about moving forward and striving to make that next great step. He loves life and discoveries because he recognizes his own mortality. We all die sometime and he's looking to leave a fairly large footprint behind to mark his path. He finds it hard to complain compared to just about everything else on Pern that could go wrong, especially considering how he's been given a second chance. It's important to offer mercy instead of justice. It's necessary to recognize that there are thers to consider beside yourself, something Patrón makes a point of. It's probably the reason he keeps up with the news. Play comes after work, love comes after you can provide for her and can keep her happy. Everything else, that's your job to obtain. He knows this and, because of it, he is not in need.
History: Patrón was born the first son to the wealthy land owner and Lord Holder Atrón of Ring Mount Hold. At an early age he was conditioned to take over after his father learning how to properly deal with tithes, other Holders, the right methods for runner breeding, and the best ways to farm the soil. This kind of hard labor kept the silver spoon in his mouth from completely staining his tongue that metallic color of the wealthy as did his behavior as a child. In his youth, Patrón was quiet and preferred to play alone in the fields or to run off to the stables to feed the runners. He displayed only the most well-behaved of manners, exhibiting politeness, courtesy, and chivalry correctly and effectively by the age of six. He learned to watch his tongue when dealing with his superiors but also to demand respect for himself from those around him. It wasn’t his birthright that caused this demand but rather an internal belief that he deserved to be treated well. The lifestyle Patrón was born into allowed for many opportunities such as learning how to become a thoroughly promising harper and mastering several instruments with his nimble fingers, and anyone whom knew him would tell you from the get go that “that boy had talent somethin‘ fierce“. He was never a problem child and his former servants and his father’s friends as well as their families would only testify the boy as the quietest of souls they had ever seen. Something must have happened during puberty because well, hell, a complete 180 occurred.
The relatively reserved young man turned into an absolute wild child. It started simple enough; he began to attend social events from all over the island. That wasn’t all that abnormal but, for him, it was certainly different. His family was glad that he had finally decided to become sociable so they didn’t really question and thoroughly encouraged him to attend more and more of them. The later stages of adolescence saw Patrón engaging in heavy drinking. From there it really was a downward spiral. Wine, ale, more wine, various odd concoctions…The more he began to drink at the dinners and parties of others, the looser he became and the more of his “proper” barriers fell. Many drunken escapades including but not limited to herd beast tipping, taking apart rival runner breeder’s fences, and thievery began to happen almost nightly. He slept throughout the day to party all night and start it all over again. By the age of seventeen he was in a constant state of fucked up. His parents attributed this to typical teenage rebellion and tried to not think too much of it. Besides, they were too busy dealing with his little brother-whom liked to get the servants in trouble unjustly and cause drama-and his little sister whom was too withdrawn and had not yet spoken a single word in her short young life.
Patrón really hit rock bottom when he started sleeping around when he was particularly wasted. The night that brought about the end came swiftly and hit like a full on train-wreck. His father and mother were away to trade runners with another holder and they had taken his sister and brother to get them out of the house. Perfect time to host a party. The only things he for certain remembers is dancing shirtless in the kitchens on top of the counter with a wine bottle pressed to his lips and several women wrapped around his waist, arms, and legs. He had been singing to the hired harper’s music in the background, though now slightly slurred and off-key, but his words were clear: “You‘re on Patrón, Tequila. I‘m drunk; me and my ladies are gonna have you so fucked up!” When he woke up the next morning it wasn’t in the bed of those lovely young ladies but instead one of the other men at his party. How in the name of…? He only managed half thoughts over the next few hours because a serious hangover kept him constantly at a waste bucket. By the time he returned to the room the other man had fled and left Patrón to his perfectly muddled thoughts. Up until that point he had been convinced he was perfectly straight but that episode proved him other wise. (Or so he still believes.) Out of shock, and possibly shame, he packed his bags. Before he could clean the place up from his escapades he was mounted and off to only Faranth knows where.
Several days and one last drunken night later Patrón found himself falling off his Waeryl, the chestnut stallion he had taken from his father. (Technically, it wasn‘t theft. It had been his runner before he had fled but by nothing but verbal contract from his father.) The runner dragged the thoroughly hung-over man to Skrull’s East Gate. A Ghost returning from Hold patrol found him and his runner, shaking his head and the dragon’s rider ushered the frightened animal and the unconscious Patrón through the gate. The healers bandaged his minor cuts and, when he awoke and could actually stand on his own, the Weyrleader B’ach himself showed up at his cot.
It was a fairly standard interrogation that ended in shame on Patrón’s part. He bore the entirety of his history on the shoulders of the short Weyrleader and explained the details of his fleeing Ring Mount. Due to his recent discovery, he could not remain there. It was better his father thought him a cowardly thief than a “reach-arounding shlong sucker” as his father would put it. B’ach didn’t exactly take sympathy but he did consent to allowing him to stay and to be searched for Impressing material. A Ghost by the name of Gryth deemed him “suitable” and, since then, he’s been awaiting the next hatching and hoping to earn the hospitality he has been provided.
When it came time for the Trial of Courage, Patrón was not exactly looking forward to it. Having met B'ach and knowing how the whole process was going to be conducted (he had had the sense to go to older former weyrlings and to ask as to how he should expect the trials to challenge him and where he was supposed to show up at) he felt uneasy enough as was but, when he settled down for the first lesson....Something in the manner in which his Weyrleader had delivered such swift, harsh retribution rubbed his flesh raw. Despite the "courage" the Weyrleader had exhibited, Patrón had unfortunately not agreed and had voiced such thoughts stating that, "I humbly ask for your pardon Weyrleader and WraithQueen, but that was not courage. Zenith is a mighty beautiful dragon and her size terrifies most born within her own Weyr. That Hold had never seen her before, nor Skrull's many other dragons. Imagine their terror. Imagine their faces as they watched their land, homes, and lives go up in smoke and be laid barren for turns to come. I see nothing courageous in a massacre of resources and an annihilation of livelihoods. Regardless of how it is put and what their Weyr-one they could have supported unwilling because of enslavement-did to those queens and their riders, you cannot force understanding by bleeding those around Black Sands dry. Especially considering how deranged the minds of those in charge of Black Sands are. Where is the point in having the blind lead the deaf? Yes, what they did was wrong. Yes, they deserve what will come to them, but I do not believe that Hold should have suffered as it did. Black Sands very well could have thrown them aside the moment they lost their use but I cannot see how it was our right to take action and end their lives for them "mercifully" or not. M'lord, respectfully, we have unwarranted blood on the Weyr."
A powerful speech-one that got him in trouble more than it did any good. He wasn't looked on well by his peers after that little tiff and had to go out to be prepared for the shaft pretty much by himself. Thank Faranth the Weyrleader paired them up according to what he wanted. Patrón ended up with a rather short, much younger fellow who suffered a nearly ever present stutter. It made it difficult to communicate with, or even understand, one another so the two pretty much just built their own equipment; Patrón with a rag-tag chute and the other lad with a pitiful glider. As they made the trek to the shaft, the Weyrleader made the motion for the other lad to go first. He shuffled to the edge and, rather bodly, took a leap. Unfortunately for Patrón the kid's glider was poorly constructed and, with several of its ropes hangign back behind him, one of them caught Patrón's leg and pulled him off of the ledge with him. The boy's glider crashed into the side of the shaft and the twelve year old managed to wedge himself into the rocks enough to climb out back to the surface leaving Patrón's leg trapped in the mass of rope still connected to the shredded glider. He didn't call out, merely dangled for a minute and tried to assess the situation. In the midst of free-falling his chute had slowly made its own way down the shaft without him and, as no one was coming to check on him, Patrón figured he was pretty much s.o.l. While hanging there he considered the notion of falling to his death, wondering why the Weyrleader went to such great extremes to test his candidates when most Weyrs could hardly care less. It was almost as if he did not trust his own Search dragons' judgements on whether a person was bondable and deserving or not. With that in mind, he decided no sane individual would waste candidates and began the process of untangling his foot. It only took a moment and he was speeding through the shaft head first with arms at his sides and the force of the wind forcing his eyelids closed. The only thing he noticed in that short drop was the sudden woosh of air running out of his lungs when a Ghost's clawed foot snatched him out of the air and tucked him against his chest before setting him gingerly on the ground. A little dazed and disoriented, he was led back to the entrance of the shaft to await the rest of the candidates to finish their own challenges. B'ach never exactly credited him with a "pass" or "fail" so in his mind he probably failed and will have to retake the trial. Unless B'ach informs him other wise of course. Till then he's returned to work out his debts in the runner stables and makes an effort to go out riding Waeryl each afternoon.
Father: Atrón, Lord Holder of Ring Mount Hold
Mother: Patriss, Lady Holder to Atrón
Siblings: Sister Atriss (7), Brother Trón (13)
Pets: Chestnut runnerbeast Waeryl-stallion. A powerful animal with speed to spare; formerly Atrón’s best breeding animal and the sole reason Patrón ended up at the Weyr.
Color Preference & Why: Bach knows what I've got in mind. ^^
What Colors/Color don't you want and why: No Ghosts or Greens please and the Wraithking is out of the question. Blues wouldn't really mesh with his general personality because he might unintentionally overwork the poor dragon.
