Post by Lyrikitty on Sept 29, 2011 22:40:34 GMT -5
Weyr: Solainoti
Name: G'bran
Gender: Male
Sexuality: Heterosexual
Rank: Wingrider
Age: 49
Face Claim: Sam Elliot
Appearence: G'bran has the rugged good lokos of a man who has lived a most active and interesting life. His skin is a natural light tan, no matter where he goes or what he does never does G'bran look pale or sickly. His face is starting to show his age, fine lines making little trenches around the eyes and across his brow depict a face which has used many an expression. His deep, nearly black, blue eyes argue against this though, seeming just as youthful as he did twenty turns ago. Thick brows arch above them as if to declare subtly his superiority over you, though he'd never say it aloud. His upper lip hides beneath a thick mustache which once was a deep chocolate and now has turned silver with age, though a few stubborn hairs remain rich in color and fight against the inevitability of time. His hair faces the same situation, often worn long with a notable wave the color is mostly silver with those stubborn hairs remaining, as if to scream at the world and challenge it to call him old.
While not particularly bulky, G'bran is no weakling. His tall, lean figure which tapers at the waist still speaks of a man who has not left his prime. Ropey, hard muscle lines his body from top to bottom, kept there through constant use. G'bran is an active man who does not believe in spending even a day designated for relaxation doing nothing. His physique reflects this thoroughly. He walks with an easy saunter and throws a casual smile at all he meets, his eyes crinkling at the corners in what would appear to be genuine pleasure at seeing the person.
His clothing is a shade on the odd side, and often his look resembles that of an old terran cowboy. Heavy-fabric leggings and a lighter top are paired with heavy hide boots and frequently a duster f sorts made from supple hide that's well cared for. A stidd hide hat with a wide brim sits atop his head most of the time as well, finishing the look with flare.
Personality: Laid-back and mellow, quick with a smile and easy to get along with, G'bran is the ideal vision of a Brown-rider. He's been around the block many a time, and his unflappable nature comes from having seen it all before.
G'bran is likeable and easy to get along with, holding a deep respect for most women unless they've directly done something to alter this respect. Men, on the other hand, he feels should earn his respect before they are given it. This is not a sexist position, merely one which is born of a peculiar outlook on life. Women work hard to make themselves equal to men. Anyone who has worked so hard to carve out a place for themselves in the world has more than earned his respect. It also stems from his opinion of women as a whole. He's one of those guys who simply like the ladies and who knows that most women enjoy it when a man treats them right.
He can be among the most charming of men around, and despite being older he has no trouble with finding someone to share his bed when he's lonely. Oddly, he's never taken a woman as a permanent partner. All who join him in the sheets are temporary, and he makes certain they understand this. Those who push for something more are let down in a gentle manner and on with his life he goes. Should he find himself in a fight with someone he settles the manner quickly and efficiently with a quick delivery of either a sharp word or a heavy blow, depending on which is most effective. He ends it there, one shot and it's done. G'bran isn't the sort to hold a grudge, and after he's put someone back in their place he'll invite them to a drink to move on and keep the peace.
His laid-back manner often hides the intelligence which shines in his eyes. He is quick witted and quick to fall into action when it is needed most. His intelligence, however, is not one which is born of reading dusty hides and studying for hours on end, but instead the sort of wisdom which comes from living a long life full of action and adventure. He is smart in the sense of survival and instinct, his drive for such being higher than that of the average person. G'bran is the sort of man who could easily live on his own in the most dangerous of places, so long as he had a few minor supplies to get him started.
History: G'bran, born Gatribran, was weyrbred and raised. With both parents being riders, though neither of high rank, it was expected for their only child to Impress to something similar, though secretly hoped for something greater. His early childhood was uneventful, though he spent a great deal of time with the runners, and when age came for him to stand on the Sands or Impression, he didn't have many turns to wait. In his fourteenth turn of life he stood on the Hatching Sands for what would be the last time, in a fairly ordinary Hatching. He wore the traditional white robes and sandals and, like every other candidate present, shifted from one foot to the other from the heat beneath his feet. As the first eggs cracked open and spilled out the little dragons within, Gatribran watched with high hopes. A little king made his way out first, then a Blue, and the third... Well the third was odd in his own rights.
Many dragons had markings, odd colorizations on them somewhere, a gradiation of hues, something which made them stand out from all the rest of their color, something which seemed to say this is me, look at who I am. This little Brown though, had not a single marking on his body. No odd color. Nothing. A clean, crisp, caramel-like Brown. The strangely plain Brown was large, massive by comparison to the rest of the clutch. At first he was mistaken for a Bronze, though this was almost immediately discredited as he stretched and groaned with pleasure, shaking himself like a canine and plodding off to the candidates in such an easy-going manner that there was really only one thing he could be. The big male strolled past each male candidate and eyed them with a passive curiosity, as though he wished to know more about them, but had more important things to attend to at the moment. Until he came to Gatribran. The big Brown stopped and blinked, his wedged head tilting in curiosity. G'bran? Yes, you are my G'bran. I am Hikarath, and I'm very hungry. Can we leave now? The newly dubbed G'bran smiled wide and reached up with shaking hands to scratch Hirakath's eye ridges, eliciting a croon of pleasure from the big Brown before they made their way off the sands.
Life became a whirlwind. While G'bran was a mellow, stable person who epitomized everything the color of his dragon was supposed to be, Hirakath was not. The big Brown was easily compared to a wild runner. He had a spirit which drove the weyrlingmaster mad with frustration, trying to teach Hirakath anything was a challenge and the only on able to reach him seemed to be G'bran. One of the more memorable occurrences was their first time putting flying straps on the Brown. Hirakath lay still and complied with everything, right up until the final strap was tightened into place. Out of nowhere the big dragon surged to his paws and charged off across the bowl as if the hounds of hell were after him. He threw himself on the ground, he reared up, he kicked up his hind feet, he bellowed and roared and caused such a commotion as to rouse a small panic until the source was discovered. It took G'bran being carried above Hirakath and dropped onto the Brown from above to calm him, and as soon as G'bran's body touched Hirakath's back the Brown froze, settled all four paws back to the ground, and yawned mightily. I think the straps will hold you just fine when we fight Thread, Mine. The matter-of-fact was in which Hirakath told G'bran this caused the weyrling to start laughing uncontrollably.
Little hiccups in their progression through their training occurred, though none so amusing as that of the straps. When they graduated from lessons and became full-fledged riders, with Hikarath still retaining a massive size and with G'bran having been thoroughly tried by his bonded.
Life for the pair remained interesting though. G'bran was soon enlisted for help with a local hold. They were having trouble with the runners and were desperate for any help they could find. Oddly enough it was G'bran who was sent to see if he could help, and help he did. He left the Weyr for three turns to work with the runners and to act as the Hold's dragon. He broke runner which had until then been untouchable. G'bran had a way with the animals that was uncanny, and unlike anything they had ever seen. When it was time for G'bran and Hirakath to return home it was with much fuss from the Hold, and with promises to return should they be needed. This put the pair together for just under six turns, and Hirakath getting irritable and snappish. With no logical explanation available, though one existing that none had thought of, G'bran tried everything to get the Brown to settle down and behave more like, well a Brown.
It didn't occur to anyone until a young Gold screamed at the Weyr in her maiden Flight what the problem with the big Brown could be. He lined himself with the kings who he matched in size, and like them all he blooded his kills for days. G'bran suspected something was amiss, but not until the caramel-pitched wings were spotted among those of the metallics and the multitude of other hues did it become obvious. Hirakath was six turns old, well into the age for mating, and he'd not once so much as participated in a Flight. He bellowed his response to the young Gold's challenge, his voice ringing above those of the kings, and he soared after her, ignoring the displeasure which rippled through the kings at his presence. It was not unheard of for a Brown to fly a Gold, but that didn't mean they had to be happy about him trying. The Flight was one which had many on edge the entire time, as several times a Bronze would attempt to clip Hirakath or knock him aside. The big Brown hld his own though, dipping and weaving just out of reach of any who tried to touch him. Until it was his light hide which lead the pack.
He held that prime position for the rest of the Flight. No matter what the rest did he refused to back down. None could get close to him, for when they did he jostled them, crowded them, and made them nervous. He never lifted his lip ni a snarl or growl, never snapped his teeth in attempt to harm. He stayed at the front of the pack with well mannered determination and passive dissuasion. When finally the young Gold's wings ached too much for her to fly any further and her body screamed for release, she turned to her males and found her release in the leader, her metallic hide pressed against his caramel colors. Afterward he calmed, and when next the little Gold Rose he did not chase her. Instead his attention turned to the colors which better suited his rank and which caused no dissent. It was as if he wanted to prove he could, and that was all. He'd flown a Gold for his first Flight.
His personality mellowed to that of the typical Brown, sweet and relaxed. He became a highly useful beast, eager to help out when he was able to. Hirakath's popularity skyrocketed, and G'bran's followed right behind. They were both likeable, one more reserved than the other, one eager to make friends and get to know the entire world. For awhile it seemed like the pair had finished with all the troublesome quirks of their youth and fallen into a more mature manner, right up until G'bran got a wild itch to make him into something of a demon to be around. He went to the Weyrleader, and asked for a very strange thing. He asked to be given a three month leave of the Weyr, to do as he wished, wherever he wished. It was an odd request, but after debate and discussion, it was decided he'd be granted this on the condition he did nothing that could reflect poorly on the Weyr.
Off he and Hirakath went, packing up the bare minimum of belongings, primarily knives, cooking utensils, and furs to sleep with. They left with little to say to anyone about it, save that they would be back soon. They headed to the Southern Continent, seeking a deserted location. They arrived in the vicinity of Talune, and flew from there off in search of something which called to them. For two weeks they flew, stopping to rest, moving on when they felt refreshed, hunting and foraging as they went. It was perhaps the happiest and mos relaxed they had ever been, until one unfortunate day which altered them entirely.
They had stumbled across a secluded cove which lay on the very edge of a desert. It was a beautiful place, where the fishing was easy and there was a small cache of fruit-bearing trees. It was the perfect place, and they decided to spend the remainder of their time there. A week into their stay in the new location a terrible storm hit, assaulting the little cove and destroying it among other things. They had no real shelter from the storm, and it was too windy for Hirakath to fly, leaving them stranded, and in the very worst rage of the storm a small tree was felled and struck the rider, knocking him out and placing a fine fracture in his skull. He remained out for three days, the time which Hirakath spent in a panic, and when he woke he knew nothing. The voice which rushed into his head to query him frightened him at first, but soon he came to trust it, placing it with the large beast who stood guard over him and who tended him as best it could.
They returned to the Weyr the only way they safely could, the long trek being made by wing until they had to cross the ocean to reach the Eastern Continent. Hirakath rested for several days before they made that journey, to ensure he would not be plagued by fatigue from his previous exertions. They made the trip, barely, and a full week was spent recovering the Brown. G'bran had started to recall small things which allowed him to help his dragon friend grow strong again. Travel out of their options for the week they spent the time talking, Hirakath telling G'bran countless little things which they had done, or which G'bran had told him about. By the time they made it back to the Weyr, G'bran knew most of what he had forgotten, and was seen immediately by a healer who was shocked he hadn't died on the way home. Sh praised the Brown for not trying to return Between with his rider, for that was one of the biggest factors in G'bran's survival. He made a full physical recovery, though he never fully regained the memories he lost. Through time little things returned, as they would for the rest of his natural life.
Once both had recovered and were given clean bills of health they went on with life, remaining close to the Weyr now and rarely traveling far. G'bran developed a love for hunting though, and he and Hirakath spent many days scouring the land near the Weyr for prey, bringing it down and skinning it. In no time at all G'bran's bed was covered with thick, luxurious furs and he started to sell those he chose not to keep. It was an easy way for them to make marks and one they both enjoyed. While on one of their hunting trips they ran across a Green and her rider doing much the same, the woman scarred from many hunts gone wrong, the dragon's hide showing much the same thing. They obviously hadn't had an easy time in ther turns of hunting, and G'bran and Hirakath befriended them. They hailed from a different Weyr, the Greens traveling out in search of new hides to sell back home, as opposed to the pair who lived local and hunted local.
The females taught them much about life in general, and instilled firmly G'bran's respect for women.
Time continued to crawl by, with G'bran and Hirakath maturing and earning respect from those around. Their skills in hunting, and G'bran's odd knack for breaking runners became popularly known, and in some cases they were specifically requested for out-of-Weyr tasks which they took gladly, traveling out and helping whoever had requested them.It was only in the past few Turns that they started to slow down on their wide range of tasks, settling into the Weyr and seeming to loose their wandering spirits. Of course, they had to date lived very lively, and that in itself was odd. They'd always seemed more content to stay in the Weyr a short time before they headed out, even after the accident they hadn't spent much time inside the Weyr itself. Around it, yes, but most of the time they stayed outside the walls and did their own things.
Father: B'rath of Brown Juyiopath [Deceased]
Mother: Nagiry of Green Upijoureyth [Deceased]
Siblings: None
Pets:
Dragon Name: Hirakath
Dragon Color: Brown
Age: 35
Personality: Well, Hirakath is one hell of a dragon to have to deal with. He's got a wide range of emotion and a personality that just doesn't have an end. When he's feeling frisky he's a royal pain, when he's sad, you feel like you've kick a pup. He is not by any standards a typical Brown. He has his moments, which are growing more common now with age, where he is laid back and relaxed, and in which he seems to personify the very image of everything a Brown should be. Excluding size.
Hirakath is a lover, not a fighter. While he's never taken a true mate he has caught a great deal of Rising females. Age hasn't stopped this either, for like clockwork he chases after the females of the Weyr with sincere devotion. He loves the ladies and he wants to please them. He's not particularly fond of other males, though he seems to tolerate them better than G'bran does, and will befriend those select few much easier. He enjoys hunting trips, and watching G'bran do the things the man loves, though Hirakath has a very protective stance when it comes to G'bran. After the accident which erased G'bran's mind the big Brown has become very defensive and protective of the man. He fears losing His to circumstances he can't stop and so does his best to prevent any such circumstance from having a chance to occur.
Deathly afraid of storms, were it not so pathetic to see the large dragon cower and absolutely shake with fear when it starts to thunder and the winds rear up it would be amusing. However, bad storms remind him of almost losing G'bran, and when similar winds start to roll he fears the same thing happening again. This is the only thing he fears though, in all other respects he's fearless. Then again it takes a certain amount of fearlessness to be the only lowe-ranked male to chase after a young Queen.
For a Brown, he is intelligent, though that's not saying a great deal. However what he lacks in mind he makes up for in heart. Hirakath is a passionate beast if nothing else, and when he does something he puts everything he has into it. He wants to please, more than anything else, and the person he most wants to please of G'bran. Of course, the fact that G'bran already loves the Brown unconditionally doesn't matter, Hirakath
Appearance: The first thing which comes to mind when anyone, no matter who they be, is Hirakath is one sharding big Brown. He rivals the typical Bronze in size, leaving those of his color in the dust. The reason for this is unknown, though there is rumor of him being a partial mutation or some other such thing. Despite his size his proportions are good. Perhaps a little wide in the chest and a shade lean at the flank, but nothing so in-ordinary that he becomes more of a spectacle than his size makes him. In color he is remarkably plain. A nice, soft, caramel-tone covers his entire figure with no variation at all. In fact, other than his size he could almost be described as boring to look at. Sure, he has a friendly, kind head and sweetly shaped eyes, and he gives off an aura of youth which goes against his age.
The only sign of aging on this big Brown is, in fact, in a slight graying around the muzzle and the tips of his wings. However, like His he seems to be battling time with a great deal of success for he moves with just as much flexibility and energy as a dragon half his age. He holds himself with a confidence which reflects G'bran's own, though he exudes a more friendly aura than His. There is one time where his age seems to be catching up to him. When he wakes in the morning Hirakath tends to be a little stiff. Due to this their Weyr is low to the ground, so that Hirakath has no trouble when he rises with getting to the ground to properly stretch out his joints and muscles.
