Post by tuathade on Mar 24, 2011 0:19:45 GMT -5
C’ross
Name: C’ross
Age: 38
Gender: male
Prisoner: no
Crime: N/A
Craft/Rank: Squadleader
Appearance: While not especially handsome in the usual sense (he'd probably react better to 'striking' or 'imposing' as adjectives anyway) C'ross is in excellent shape. 6'2" and 220 pounds, pretty much all muscle, C'ross is built like a brick wall, a fact which is only highlighted further by his posture. He has a strong profile with an aquiline nose, probably broken once or twice long ago. His hair is very dark - near-black - and kept to a tidy length, often slicked back to keep out of his face. The uniform dark color is interrupted only by a single streak of shocking white, extending from his forehead back; it was the result of a head injury some years back that stubbornly healed wrong. While dashing in a certain light, it makes him look considerably older than he is, as if he were going grey before his time. Combine this with his weathered and scarred complexion, and C'ross frankly looks as though he were more in his mid- to late-forties. (This bothers him more than he cares to admit.) His eyes are green, but if you’re up in his personal space enough to notice that, then he’s probably about to forcibly eject you anyway.
Personality: A man of strong convictions and moral absolutes, C'ross has seen some of the worst that Pern has to offer without losing his scrupulous nature. Sure, his moral compass might have been battered and rusted a bit around the edges along the way, but it still works just fine.
It is important to remember, however, that good does not mean nice. Just because he has a conscience doesn't make him a charmer. Intense is, perhaps, the best adjective to describe C'ross in person. 'Downtime' is something that happens to other people, a mysterious and distant memory that perhaps he will someday revisit. In conversation, he is a mass of snark and vitriol with a garnish of no-nonsense, needling friends and foes alike with grim humor. Did he hurt your feelings by saying something mean? Quit your bitching and grow a pair. C'ross isn't a complete bastard all the time, but he certainly is most of the time.
Let's be blunt here: you don't want to be in C'ross' wing. You just don't. His dragon is a terror on four legs and wings, and C'ross himself is a harsh taskmaster. Granted, he would never ask anything of his wingriders that he doesn't also demand of himself, but given the bronzerider's exacting standards that isn't saying much. He didn't get to where he is by sitting around and playing nice with people, and when he tells his wing to jump he expects them to already be halfway in the air. He rarely loses his temper for real, but that doesn't stop him from 'encouraging' stragglers and underachievers with the sharp edge of his wit. Praise, rarely given, is grudging but always honest.
C'ross is slow to give anyone his complete trust, for reasons that should be obvious. (The man works with psychopaths on a daily basis.) When he's business, he's all business, and he will put aside any private feelings to work with someone who would be tactically useful. But on a personal level, it's hard to get to know him. There is presumably a softer side somewhere under the scars; he is very attached to his wing, in his own way, and will go well out of his way to do a favor for any of 'his' riders should they ever ask. And he is zealously loyal to his weyr - do not insult Leshta or Semith in front of him, or you'd best prepare to be verbally mauled. But thus far, the only person to whom he has a true bond of affection (apart from his dragon) is I'saac.
C'ross' relationship with the greenrider is not in any way what you'd expect from a man like him. Especially given the alarming violence of their dragons' Flights. In public, he is discreet, if fiercely protective of I'saac. In private, he is warm and affectionate with his weyrmate. Somewhere under the mile of bad road it takes to get there, apparently, there is a deeply buried hopeless romantic. He is unpleasantly aware that there is something wrong with Nicoth, and that the green might well pose a danger to herself and those around her. But Nicoth's instability in no way reflects on I'saac (C'ross' personal theory is that she chose a rider who could help stabilize her, though the accuracy of this very biased interpretation is questionable) and doesn't change his feelings towards her rider. As long as Merceth doesn't object to chasing her, and he hasn't so far, C'ross is content to accept things as they are.
History: C'ross was born to a smithcrafting family, the middle child of many. His childhood was nothing out of the ordinary: traditional, stable, no particular tragedies. He grew up well-adjusted, if largely self-reliant, the natural result of being one among many and generally expected to sort things out for himself if he could. It was assumed that he would go through his apprenticeship and become a smith himself in time, like his elder brothers before him... a future that was abruptly sidetracked when a friendly Searchrider declared him to have some potential. C'ross was elated. His parents were... less so. Candidacy seemed like a distraction. Still, there were provisions for even dragonriders to continue in crafts, and him returning to the Hall with a nice brown or blue could only reflect well on him. So off he went, promising to only stay for long enough to Stand for a hatching or two, then return.
He was sixteen when he stood on the sands in the Candidate robe, fidgeting awkwardly and watching as dragon after dragon Impressed around him. Then his life changed, as a dark-hued hatchling spilled out onto the sands bugling in anger, and crimson eyes swung around to fix upon C'ross. The dragonet advanced like a pouncing feline, forcing him to the ground and standing over him with mantled wings and claws drawing blood on his chest. C'ross honestly thought the hatchling would rip his throat out right then and there, up until the voice resounded in his mind and Impression was forged between them in bonds of steel.
He had never truly expected to Impress. But instead he got Merceth, for whom weyrlinghood was not so much a learning experience as a constant battle of wills until the two of them settled into a solid partnership. C’ross was sensible, dedicated, and generally unflappable in a crisis. While Merceth’s willful energy and unpredictable streak made him ill-suited for life at a crafthall (he would have torn it to shreds in a matter of days) his frighteningly predatory focus made him very effective at hunting down and terrorizing criminals. The duo was rapidly deemed perfect for watch-work. The ensuing row with his father soured C'ross' relationship with the man for Turns to come.
He excelled in the watch. It helped, of course, that his dragon's hide was shiny enough to please the more old-fashioned riders. But C'ross demanded respect on his own merits, serving as wingrider and then wingsecond for many Turns before finally being promoted to a wing of his own. In that time, he saw a darker side of Pern that he had never been exposed to before. Dust addicts in the throes of withdrawal. Murderers, rapists, unrepentant criminals of all stripes. He had to come to terms with the grim reality that not everyone could be brought to justice, and sometimes no matter how hard you tried, you were just too late to save someone. On occasion he was obliged to use force - sometimes more force than he wanted to use - and found that it came frighteningly easy to him, a revelation that only increased his resolve to avoid being corrupted. It was a heavy weight to throw onto the shoulders of a formerly idealistic young man, and over time he grew more withdrawn and jaded, settling into the harsh attitudes that would characterize his career as a wingleader.
And then he met I'saac. And everything changed.
It started as mere friendliness and mutual respect. I'saac was a good man: clever, good company, a fine wingrider once his dragon had been whipped into shape. C'ross was holdborn with holdborn sensibilities, and his attitude towards anything beyond friendship with another man was... well, prudish at best. Turns among dragonriders had obliged him to accept certain necessities of the rider life, and certainly what others did in their own weyrs was none of his business, but it wasn't something he wanted for himself. Still, the longer he spent with I'saac, the more he had to face the truth. He was hopelessly in love with the older greenrider, beyond his ability to deny or repress it.
"Dragon decides, rider complies," as the old adage goes - but the line blurred, in this case. He did not consciously urge Merceth to chase Nicoth, but it's damned hard to hide a want that powerful from someone who's in your head all the time. And a Flight was... it was a convenient excuse. In case I'saac didn't reciprocate. In case things went poorly. He could just shrug it off, say it was just his dragon being high-spirited and it didn't mean anything. Besides, he was a Wingleader and I'saac was in his wing. It wouldn't be appropriate to have anything more serious than that.
Of course, that's not how it worked out in practice. Because I'saac did reciprocate C'ross' affection, enthusiastically, and the two of them spent a good while awkwardly trying to figure out how to make any kind of relationship work. Even setting aside the unfortunate implications of the power dynamic, after the Flight Merceth and Nicoth proved completely incapable of working together the way they used to in the wing. But with the Dragon Watch ranging all over Pern, requesting a wing transfer would risk them being separated entirely. The foundation of Warden's soon after looked less like a punishment and more like an opportunity: both of them were guards in good standing, but with 'problematic' dragons, making them good candidates to be sent off together. They could be at the same weyr, but in separate squads - satisfying both problems at once.
Were the Watch thrilled to lose a wingleader? Absolutely not. Was C'ross adamant? Yes. And so he went.
Other stuff: HERP DERP
Pets
Name: Useless. She also answers to “idiot”, “shardit”, and “what are you doing, stop.”
Species: Firelizard
Color: Green
Appearance: Tiny. Dull, grass green, dappled with lighter lime green on her belly. Stubby limbs, snub snout, sharp teeth and claws. Tends to use her size and dull coloration as an advantage when stealing food from the unwary.
Personality: C’ross named her accurately. Useless firelizard is useless. Not in the adorable, helpless way, either. Useless is perfectly capable of feeding and looking after herself, and biting the fingers of anyone who tries to harass her. She’s also capable of chewing on things you don’t want her to chew on, losing small shiny objects in hidey-holes, and harassing C’ross’ weyrmate. Useless is notoriously bad at carrying messages, to the point where C’ross only sends her with notes that he actively wants to get lost or eaten.
Name: Harper
Species: Firelizard
Color: Gold
Appearance: In the wrong light, this pretty little creature just might be mistaken for a white. Her hide is ghostly pale, as if there wasn't enough gold to go around and she was tragically slighted. Close examination of her hide shows tiny stripe like markings that circle her legs and tail. But they're almost as pale as the rest of her and hard to see without careful attention. She's a big girl, though, larger than her momma and capable of making her voice heard.
Personality: This little one is clever as heck. In particular, she seems capable of remembering everyone she meets and everything she sees. First impressions are last impressions with her, as she'll never forget who offered an extra bit of meat and who chased her away. It's all neatly filed, ready for use when needed. She's not vindictive, but she's not forgiving, either. Quiet, and not particularly adventurous, she'd rather be on the shoulder of her owner than out sunning herself or flying about. She's almost clingy and he'll be hard pressed to get some time alone. Eager to please and helpful, she'll be quick to learn and useful once she's trained. But if C'ross wants privacy, he's out of luck.
Merceth
Name: Merceth
Color: Bronze
Age: 22
Appearance: Merceth is huge. Long limbs, long wings, long tail – he is handsomely proportionate, he just takes up a lot of space! His size is ameliorated by his build; the bronze has a constantly whipcord-lean and hungry look about him. Literally hungry. No matter what other color his eyes may turn, there is always a tinge of red to them. His prodigious appetite is balanced by a constant frenetic energy that burns off the excess – never any spare fat on this dragon. In the air he is deceptively speedy for his size, but utterly lacking in finesse. He moves in the air rather like an oncoming train: very fast and virtually unstoppable, but good luck getting him to go where you want him to go and try not to be directly in front of him.
Merceth’s primary hide color is a dark, mottled bronze, with an almost corroded quality to the color. From his eyes to the tip of his muzzle there is a paler, almost creamy mask, leading to a streak of lighter color fading down his throat and chest. This gives him a curiously hooded appearance, distinctive in combination with the abstract lighter patterns on his wing-membranes. He also has a very faint network of old, well-healed scars, mostly on his shoulders and chest, from Nicoth mauling him. Their Flights tend to be rather bloody affairs.
Personality: Only with C’ross and Merceth could the words “you are the worst dragon and a disgrace to your color” be terms of endearment. Still, while the grumpy way they heckle each other may be startling to those used to a more… supportive dragon-rider relationship, there is obvious affection between the two even when they are cussing each other out.
It is explicitly apparent that the dragon provides the energy and the rider provides the discipline in this particular partnership. When placed on a task, Merceth is singularly focused, assaulting obstacles in his way as if they were physical opponents to be subdued. With C'ross' help, this focus is channeled into positive outlets. Indeed, the often grueling schedule of a guard dragon is good for Merceth, as it wears him out to the point where he is far more docile during his off shifts than he otherwise would be. Merceth is not much of a natural leader in his own right, and usually leaves the actual leading part up to C'ross, preferring instead to simply set the best example he can for the other dragons in the wing. Still, when it is needed, Merceth is not at all shy about speaking to other dragons, or even speaking directly to their riders with his usual blunt forwardness.
There is nothing cruel or malicious about Merceth. But he seems to be constantly on edge, and it is up to his rider to know when to give him his head and when to keep him on a tight leash. Despite Merceth’s obvious intelligence, there seems to be something animalistic about the way he moves and acts. He does not like being touched by those other than his rider, including dragonhealers, and while he is incapable of harming a human, he is still perfectly capable of expressing his displeasure. Given that he is downright huge, this is still terrifying. More than one apprentice has been sent scurrying off in tears – and probably flecked with dragonspit, to boot – after getting a full-throated roar six inches from their face. Still, he has a soft side and will, from time to time, grow fond of particular individuals. Maybe he'll get attached the beastcrafter who helps him sneak an extra caprine at feeding time. Or perhaps a particular healer, to the exclusion of all others. To those individuals whom he trusts, he is tame as a pup and even outright affectionate, readily offering his eyeridges for scritchies.
Merceth has very little interest in flights, and in general he doesn't even twitch a wing at rising females. Golds are a different matter, but the only one available is Semith, whom Merceth respects but has no interest in catching. And the big guy only pursues greens if C'ross encourages him to do so... which, now that C'ross has a weyrmate, means that Merceth exclusively chases Nicoth. And Faranth help any dragon that gets between the angry green and the angry bronze, because they will be mauled from both directions.
