Post by Desert on Nov 14, 2008 16:30:15 GMT -5
A'res & Wygith ; Lifeline
Is there anybody out there?
Can you pull me from this ocean of despair?
I'm drowning in the pain,
Breaking down again,
Looking for a lifeline
Weyr: New Cove
Name: A'res
Gender: male
Sexuality: bi-curious
Rank: wingrider
Age: 21
Appearence:
For someone his age, A'res is fairly average in appearance. Normal height, unremarkable build. Under normal circumstances he would be pleasantly good-looking, but far from drop-dead gorgeous. His is a face easy to lose in the crowd, which suits him perfectly.
His hair is medium brown, a common enough color; like that of a swollen river in the spring heavy with silt. It naturally has a few highlights of a color closer to sandy blond and lowlights of mahogany, giving it some depth, but mostly those variations are hard to differentiate from the crop of plain muddy brown.
A'res' eyes, from a distance, appear to be a fairly solid shade of dull olive green. Up close, it becomes clear that around his pupil is a ring of purer emerald green, shot through with flecks and veins of an amber hue that radiates from the rim of his iris; the color slowly fades from the green to the amber.
His skin-tone has a bit of a tan -- hardly the bronzen shade sported by those farther south, but enough to keep him from looking unhealthily pale.
Since his reImpression to Wygith, his overall demeanor has improved dramatically: his eyes have a spark of animation in them again. These days, A'res has regained much of the weight he lost in those five Turns after Lenarth betweened. He isn't quite up to the average weight yet, and might never considering how his appetite hasn't shown any desire to return to normal. A'res suffered from nagging insomnia, staining the skin under his eyes with dark bruises; he still has a hard time sleeping, so those rings are likely permanent. His hair also shows signs of past neglect, lacking a generally looking rather unkempt. Even a more stable mental state hasn't been able to break long-ingrained habits.
Personality:
For the first thirteen Turns of his life, Aneres was a pleasant lad. Easygoing, caring and optimistic, he was easy to get along with and always believed the best of everyone. He was very patient and forgiving, and forgiving of any wrongs done against him. He evoked the image of a canine pup sometimes, with his innocent exuberance and perpetually sunny disposition. Though not an extrovert, he had a small circle of close chums to whom he was fiercely loyal. If a bully decided to harass him, Aneres would endure it stoically and not retaliate; but if that bully turned his or her attention to one of his friends, he would immediately come to his friend's defense.
On the whole he was a quiet lad, helpful and not inclined to pranks like some of his peers. There wasn't much that got and held his attention -- he was a tad bit ADD -- but one of those things were dragons. Like so many others before him, Aneres developed dragon-fever as a boy. He nearly went into dithers every time a wing of dragons was spotted overhead, and once someone got him started talking about dragons it was hard to make him stop. His burning desire since he was old enough to understand was to be a dragonrider. He didn't care what color he got, only that he was bonded to one of the magnificent creatures.
But that is all past. For the five or so Turns before Wygith, Aneres was little more than a breathing mannequin. After the loss of his beloved, he wrapped himself in apathy. The reason for his existence was dead, why should he bother? It was a wonder he survived at all, and many said that even if his body lived on his spirit had already gone chasing after Lenarth.
He didn't have much personality, really. Nothing seemed to get past the haze that surrounded him. The only way to get any response out of him was to try and irritate him; joy was lost with Lenarth. It took a lot to get any hint of temper out of the lad, and the best way to do that was to bring him into a social situation and force him to interact. None of them know his pain, they never will, so why should he try to talk to someone who has no idea?
Aneres was alone whenever he could get away from people. Whether in the barracks curled up on his bunk or hiding in some obscure niche -- wherever he could find a place of solitude. Most of his peers and no few of the older adults were slightly frightened of his demeanor and stayed away from him voluntarily, and the riders all kept their distance out of pity.
But, once Wygith entered his life, he improved dramatically. He rediscovered his will to live, and over the course of the next Turn his former, easy-going nature returned. He probably will never regain the optimistic enthusiasm he'd possessed as a boy, or completely shake off the melancholy, but he's close enough to normal for everyone's satisfaction, even his own.
However, he never completely got rid of those mechanisms that helped him through those five Turns. He still tends to keep his emotions to himself and clam up under stress. He no longer makes friends very easily, and though he isn't nearly as misanthropic he still isn't a people-person.
History:
As far as Aneres is concerned, his life was unimportant before he first got to the Weyr. He didn't do much of anything in the Hold; his parents were just rank-and-file holders, after all. The first important milestone of his life was when that wing of dragons landed in the courtyard on Search. They whisked him away to his personal paradise: a place with dragons, and lots of them. He immediately threw himself into candidacy, to the delight of the Weyrlingmaster [though his antics did irritate a few of the other candidates]. For two or three sevendays, Aneres was a heartbeat away from bursting with anticipation. He'd seen the eggs hardening on the Grounds and nearly wet himself when the candidates were allowed to touch the tough shells.
Then, the penetrating hum broke into the dawn-lit gloom of the Weyr. He was hustled with the other white-clad candidates onto the burning sand, his heart racing excitedly. His thoughts ran in frantic circles. Would today be his day? Would he find his bonded, his weyrmate, as the creature broke free of its egg? As bad as the anticipation had been before, now it was nearly painful.
Suddenly, through the throbbing hum echoing throughout the Weyr, from the clutch there came a definitive crack. A deafening silence fell as the first hatchling entered the world, slick and shiny with amniotic fluid. After that prolonged moment things began happening very fast, and Aneres was unable to keep up with all the dragonets as they sought out their lifemates among the candidates.
The Hatching began to wind down; anticipation soured and became a cold lump of disappointment in his belly. Perhaps today wasn't his day after all. Before he could turn away, one of the last remaining eggs splintered loudly, drawing his attention back to the clutch. The egg -- much smaller than the rest -- was still wobbling unsteadily as a web-like network of cracks spread over its smooth surface. Aneres could tell that the dragonet inside was having a hard time trying to escape the confines of its shell. He looked around, but none of the other remaining candidates had even noticed the struggle.
Finally the tough shell gave way and out spilled a delicate, dainty beauty of a green. Her hide was a milky mint green, with splotches of creamy white on her face and throat. She was runty compared to her fellow green clutchsisters, and obviously very weak. Her plaintive creels tugged at Aneres' heartstrings.
The little green unfolded herself from where she'd collaped after finally breaking shell, and with shaky steps tried to follow her siblings' lead. Aneres bit his lip as he watched -- she staggered and stumbled for every step she took, and her whole body seemed to tremble with the effort of walking. It became too much for him to stand by, so Aneres shoved through his peers to get to the sickly green.
Her head, swaying unsteadily on the thin stalk of her neck, swung around toward the lad approaching her with one hand extended encouragingly. "That's it, little one, just a little farther," he said gently.
The red of distress faded from the green's eyes, replaced by a rainbow of colors as another creel -- this one full of adoration rather than pleading -- rolled from her slim muzzle. There you are, myOwn![/b][/color] Lenarth crooned. She pushed her nose into A'res' outstretched hand. I was so worried that I wouldn't find you! Please, my love, I'm so hungry and so tired. Can we go from here?[/b][/color]
A'res swallowed back the lump in his throat and blinked through the tears leaking from his eyes. Then he gathered the daintly green dragonet in his arms and carried her from the Grounds. "Of course, dear heart," he muttered thickly.
Lenarth's health -- never the best -- deteriorated even further over the next six months, until she was too weak to do much more than lift up her head from the lip of her couch. A'res was constantly at her side, up until the very bitter end.
A'res, loveMine,[/b][/color] she sighed as he walked through the door.
"Oh, Lenarth, I didn't know you were awake, dear!" He rushed to kneel by her couch.
Barely. I'm so tired,[/b][/color] she replied wistfully.
A'res stroked her eye-ridge soothingly. "I'm here, love, you can sleep," he assured her.
Flecks of white showed through the contented blue-green of her eyes. But I fear to, Mine! I'm afraid that if I go to sleep, I won't wake up again![/b][/color] Lenarth creeled. She pressed her head fervently against her rider's chest. I'm so tired, but I don't want to hurt you.[/b][/color]
He swallowed back tears and hugged the green's delicate body to him. "Sleep, dear heart. The longer you linger, the more miserable you are. I love you too much to make you suffer this way. Be in peace, that's the best thing we can do for each other. One day or another we'll meet again."
A quiet moan slipped from Lenarth's muzzle as she pulled her head back to look into A'res' eyes with her own gray-wheeling, multifaceted eyes. A'res... I don't know what I did to get someone so selfless as you.[/b][/color] The sickly green, with aid from her rider's not-so-steady hands, managed to support her weight on trembling legs. I love you, my Own. Remember that always, for I will keep your memory in my heart wherever I go.[/b][/color]
He stroked the silky pale green hide one last time. "I love you too, dear Lenarth," he replied. A'res' voice was hardly intelligible from the sobs threatening to rip free of his control.
He was found in a faint, collapsed half in the newly empty weyrling couch. The Weyr waited for several days for the poor boy to join his dragon in death, but to their astonishment Aneres finally woke from his catatonic stupor. The Headwoman insisted that he remain a candidate -- he was still within the age range, he could reImpress. Many of the riders argued against it, but eventially the Headwoman won out. Aneres was transferred from that northern Weyr to New Cove and remained there for four more Turns, and Stood at more Hatchings, mentally reliving the bittersweet moment of his own Impression. Then, things changed.
The last clutch of Syamynth had an eventful Hatching, though Aneres arrived late and paid no attention to any of it. He lingered in surly silence at the back of the mob, closing his senses to the painfully familiar sounds of a Hatching. A big bone suddenly shoved his way through the mob of boys, fixated on his target, and came to a halt smugly at Aneres' feet. The oddest thing about the hatchling was not his size or color, but the woven-grass hat that was balanced precariously on the dragonet's head-knobs.
It's about time you got here, Mine! Wygith is hungry! Take me from this mess and feed me![/b][/color]
A'res blinked as the hat-wearing bone scrambled up to him -- shoving aside and clawing several other lads in the process. His mind felt as if he'd just been tossed into one of High Reaches' snowmelt lakes, brought out and slapped silly on the head. His thoughts had fogged up, as if they rejected the unfamiliar dragon-voice.
He'd never heard a mind-voice at this depth, that it almost seemed like it was his own mind -- not since Lenarth had died. The mere thought of his green caused A'res' throat to close up and he swallowed hard, scrubbing at his eyes with one fisted hand.
Wygith huffed impatiently and took a mouthful of the boy's robe, shaking it ferociously. I said feed me! Could you not hear me? Are you deaf? Do you wish me to waste away and die, A'res, mine? Perhaps I should go between and leave you to your misery? Would you like that?[/b][/color] he asked sternly, lifting his head to look his rider straight in the eye.
A'res took a deep breath and steadied himself -- he'd been swaying on his feet slightly, and not entirely due to Wygith's vigorous tugging at his robe.
"No, Wygith. Just relax, I'll feed you, but give me a moment," he said weakly, then sank into a crouch, scratching the bone's eye ridge (carefully, so as not to disturb his hat). "My mind hasn't been in working order for years, Wygith. Impression disorientates everyone, but in my case it's worse." He smiled wanly. "So if you'll lend me a shoulder to keep me from collapsing, we'll go get you some food." He rose to his feet again slightly shakily, putting one hand on the bone's shoulder for support.
Wygith bore his rider's weight, watching him warily with eyes tinged yellow in concern. A'res, are you quite all right?[/b][/color]
A'res chuckled weakly as they picked their way slowly toward the exit and the food. "Yes and no. Right now I'm pretty out of it, but I'll be better in a little while." He smiled, scratching Wygith's eye-ridge affectionately.
And for the next three Turns, Wygith wrought a seemingly miraculous change in his rider. By now, many of the newer additions to New Cove who weren't there before he reImpressed don't even know A'res was ever dragonless. Still, he was far from perfect, and he hit something of a plateau. Wygith was content with the improvement so far, but he knew so much more could be accomplished, if only A'res would stop clamming up under intense emotions; only, Wygith didn't know how to make him so that. The big bone had almost resigned himself to what he had, when by chance the Senior goldpair of Crystal Cavern sought refuge on New Cove's beaches at the same time Wygith and His were there.
That chance meeting proved to be a fortunate one for both riders, as A'res and Llaina realized that the other had experienced the same trauma of losing a dragon. A'res saw how Llaina still mourned her lost magma; having not been given the Turns of being dragonless A'res had to come to grips with the pain, she seemed in a worse state than he. It had been compassion at first that drew A'res to the goldrider, but after the brief meeting was over, he realized there was more there.
They met again shortly after Black Sands' conniving sterilized Daisyth, and the stress drove the goldpair again to leave their Weyr; this time, A'res and Wygith happened upon them after drills. The second meeting of the two riders went from despair to joy as Llaina realized that Daisyth didn't have to Rise for the Weyr anymore, just for herself ad Hers, which meant that Wygith and A'res had a shot. In a short time, such intense joy touched A'res' heart that he hadn't felt since Lenarth's death. Life was finally beginning to look up.
So I put out my hand,
And I asked for some help
We tore down the walls I'd built around myself
I was struck by the light,
And I fell to the ground![/color]
Father:[/b] Galleman
Mother: Barna
Siblings: none
Pets: none
You know a heart of gold won't take you all the way
And in a world so cold it's hard to keep the faith
I'm never gonna fade away!
Dragon Name:[/b] Wygith
Dragon Color: bone
Age: 3
Personality:
Wygith has an odd personality, to say the least. He's very serious-minded, and will place training and lessons before absolutely anything else, including eating and sleeping. The odd thing about this dragon is the hat he constantly wears. It's a terran rice-field hat, dropped from the Stands at his Hatching and immediately attracting his undivided attention. As he grew, he demanded that new hats be made to fit him; this will be the only time someone is ever allowed to touch his hat. He will otherwise throw a fit when it is touched, and may rampage about the Weyr whenever it goes missing. The only one allowed to touch his hat is A'res.
Appearence:
Wygith's size falls on the bigger end of the scale, his hide's coloring an ashy gray-white. His proportions are average: large, powerful wings coupled with the frame to keep him up for long periods of time, and the bony protrusions on his wings are almost pointed, knife-like. Not that he would try and hurt anyone without due cause. This bone has a mysterious aura about him, and walks with pride, each step he takes seems almost planned.
[/color]
Other:
A'res: cadetblue
Wygith: BABAAB
Lenarth: BDFCC9[/center][/size][/color]
