J'thir : Grey Weyrling : Golith

[Spiffy]

J'thir

Name: J'thir (Jarethir, previously known as Jareth)
Age: 27
Gender: Male
Prisoner: Yes
Crime: Dust Possession/Distribution (Acccused of murder, charge cleared, innocent)
Craft/Rank: Weyrling

Appearance:

Richard Armitage

He's quite tall, standing at about 6'1", with a slimline build that manages not to make him look gangly; A build that betrays his abilities as lying in speed and agility rather than brute strength. He's never been the weak type, and puts on enough muscle to do what he needs to do, maintained by regular bow practise, riding and the rare jog, though nowadays it's mostly working in the fields around the Prison. His skin is lightly tanned and shows health, and is peppered with numerous small scars from the rest of his life, spent largely outdoors with the holdless or, more recently, at the Prison. He has two larger scars, on his torso and left shoulder/arm from a scrap he got into with a fellow dealer. Let's just say that he didn't win, to his chagrin, so ask and you're unlikely to hear the full or true story behind them. He's proud of his body, lean and well cared for, with enough strength for what he needs to do and fitness to make a quick getaway, if the occasion arises, and the skills to stand and fight. Oddly, as he has all the skills and the mindset to do it, he's never killed anyone, and never intentionally killed anyone indirectly either.

Facial wise, his features are well defined, verging on sharp, but with evidence of charm. So too, are they perilous, for it is what they do not show that would most clearly define him. His eyes are of a pale blue hue, with small traces of lighter silver here and there. Depending largely on his want, his eyes can be expressive or blank, as he's well practised at keeping things hidden from others, straight faced even if inside he's boiling. Nose is a little pointy, but fits well with the rest of his face, considering that the trait is shared throughout. So too, are his lips which, depending on his mood, either turn down in a grimace or up in a grin, though whether sly or cheeky is anyone's guess. Usually though, when he's observing, it's almost a sneer at times, straight with only a slight upturn at one side. His hair is a dark brown, verging on black, and is usually pretty scruffy, as he rarely takes the initiative to tame it unnecessarily. He usually keeps it fairly short, often only cutting it enough to keep it out of his eyes if he doesn't have time for a full cut. Around his left wrist he wears a leather thong with some coloured wooden beads threaded onto it, a present from his daughter just two years ago. He had to fight to keep it, and is not allowed to wear it around his neck as it was means to be, for his own safety, but V'tya relented eventually. He has a piercing in his left ear, a small hoop of dark metal. It's a wonder that he even kept it, seeing as it's been more trouble than it's strictly worth, even if he's had to get rid of it in prison. Even after the ear infection plagued him, he is now extremely sensitive to high pitched sounds in that ear, particularly a dragon's keening, and usually leaves him with a pounding headache.

No matter how many times that you told me you wanted leave
No matter how many breaths that you took you still couldn't breathe
No matter how many nights that you'd lie wide awake to the sound of the poison rain
Where did you go
Where did you go
Where did you go

Personality: What you see and what you get rarely match up in this man. Often he is charming, smiling and agreeable, and to a point enjoys socializing with others. But he can smile while grimacing inside, lie about agreeing, and is charming you to get what he wants. Such is the way his mind works.

If he sees something he wants, he will work towards getting it, but not with a single minded intent that may be expected, as there is an element of take it or leave it in his psyche. If he can get it, he'll try. If he fails, he can take it, even if he's not happy about it. It does help him focus if he is doing something for someone else, but unfortunately such people are few and far between, Saraya and Arya being the only such people to really feature at all in his life so far. Self-centered he may be, but if on the off chance he does car for someone other than himself, he will not force himself or anything on them. If he is to ever let his guard down in front of someone then that someone must be extremely special to him, for he would never do it with someone he didn't trust utterly. He holds his emotions in a very tight check, letting little show, and sometimes so much builds up behind these inner barriers that he just has to let them out, and would disappear for days to do so in peace, away from others.

But most of this is of little concern to everyone around him, to them he could anything from the life and soul of the party to the brooding wallflower in the corner, though he's normally buried himself in at least one glass of wine at any one point, usually more. He can be charming, amusing, downright scary, whatever the situation demands as best. Even though he has been somewhat isolated from others for a long while, he can still deal with people. Rather well actually, for he is a good leader, despite his flaws, with a knack for using people to their advantages. Or his, but that's besides the point here. He's usually pretty straight and to the point, lacking a particular way with words, though it seems to be enough. He'd prefer to say nothing at all and let his actions speak for themselves than lie outright or evade the truth. This does let him down somewhat on the sympathy front - he can't get all gooey for a girl in distress.

No matter how many deaths that I die I will never forget
No matter how many lives that I live I will never regret
There is a fire inside of the heart and a riot about to explode into flames
Where is your God
Where is your God
Where is your God

History: You could say that his life got off to a bad start early on. He was born to a trader and his wife, and lived as a holdless from the word go. He lived with the traders in his parents caravan for the best part or 6 turns, raised jointly by the whole caravan with the couple other children they had. It was just as well, for he didn't exactly get on well with his parents, and was often ignored by them. These early years of his life were uneventful, and he looks back on them with so little emotion that he wonders he remembers it at all.

But that was soon to change. Not long before his 7th birthday their caravan was attacked by a group of bandits, rogues, thieves, the watchmen slaughtered in the night and their wares ransacked, and little Jarethir kidnapped for ransom. The rogues were a little disappointed when they discovered that Jarethir was not the son of the caravan leader, as they had believed him to be, as they had wanted to sell him for ransom. After a day or two considering what they should do, they offered up the ransom to the caravan anyway, which went to his parents, who eventually decided that they could not afford the ransom, would not pay for Jareth to come back. When Jareth found this out, from one of the rouges drunkenly declaring it over he campfire one night, he was shocked. He'd known that his parents had wished for better in him, but this, not even wanting him back? Even he hadn't expected this. It hardened his heart, and when approached the next morning to have the news formally declared to him, he surprised the brigand by replying, quite calmly, "I don't want to go back there either."

So they took him back to the main group settled, temporarily, in a cave system a day or so's walk away. Here it was decided what was to be done with him. It turned out, a stroke of luck for the young Jareth, that one of the women in the group was willing to look after him, having lost her own son not so long ago to the flu. Her partner wasn't too keen on the idea though, so no father figure there, but many of the men soon grew fond of him. They weren't all cold hearted murderers, and several had, or had once had, families of their own.

People joined and left their little group, but Jarethir stayed on. He grew up in the caravan, surrounded by crime and mischief, dishonesty, and honesty too, all contributing to make Jarethir the man he is now. They taught him how to defend himself, how to fight, and how to kill. How to lie, threaten and cheat his way to success, though some of his teachers were more successful at it than others, and through them he Impressed his firelizard, Riki. They also introduced him to Dust, though he didn't become an actual user for some time yet. They didn't want to waste their precious supply on each other when it could be sold for a handsome profit, though that didn't stop several of them from using it. He did get involved with the dealing, however, his discretion coming in very handy when payment was required from 'clients' and his brown useful for lookout. At the age of 19 he was partnered with another of their group and tasked with selling the Dust in holds, both major and minor, depending on where they were at the time, for they moved camp a lot, especially after one of their number disappeared or were captured, for fear of them squealing on their activities.

They also introduced him to Saraya. She joined the group with her father, who would not give his reasons for having run from society. The group accepted them anyway. They were all in for it, after all, for one reason or another. She was around his age, 22, if a bit younger, and they got on well. Actually, she got on well with a number of their members. So it was when she announced to being pregnant some months later, she couldn't quite say who's it was. "You all know who you are," she said, "though which of you, neither I nor you can say." Jareth being Jareth shrugged the incident off. He didn't want a kid, and it wouldn't be his anyway, couldn't, even though in his mind he knew that wasn't strictly true. There was a very real possibility that he could have just got a woman pregnant, and he didn't like the idea, or the implications.

When 7 months later Saraya went into labour, the camp seemed to hold its breath. Several joked that the tension could've been cut with a knife. Jareth certainly thought so. He himself was so strung up about the whole thing that he had several times considered doing his disappearing act for a few days, but that would neither answer the question nor release the tension within him, and so he stayed. When at last the midwife emerged from the tent, haggard and tired, she sat in the circle of firelight and looked up at the circle of young men. Somehow, the inner part of the circle was made up of the prospective fathers, though none had said a word about it, and some were missing. It was at these men that the midwife looked, considering. With a sigh she stood and walked out of the circle to her own tent, on the way stopping to lay a hand on Jareth's shoulder. He didn't move, couldn't, for a long moment, for each and every one of those assembled knew what that gesture had meant for them, and for Jareth.

He adjusted rather well to being a father, to his own surprise as much as anyone else's. Raising a firelizard must have taught him something. Once he'd gotten his mind around the fact that he now had a daughter, he set it on being as good a father to her as he could, given the circumstances. At the very least he wanted to be a better father than his own had been.

For a while he succeeded. He did his best to provide for them. He'd often though that it would be better for her to be raised in a stable neighbourhood, rather than in a band of outcasts and criminals who really couldn't provide her with everything she needed, let alone safety, but though he's tried, circumstances never allowed for it. And circumstances, as they do, one day took a turn for the worst.

He was out on the job one day at a Lemos Hold, a major one and so Jareth was on high alert. His job that day was lookout, while his partner was doing business in the whorehouse which Jareth was lounging outside, but he couldn't have predicted what would happen next. At a signal from his companion he glanced through the door, checking for trouble, and so missed the dragon landing in the square at either end of the alley they were in, at Riki's alarm seeing them too late as the riders were dismounting and barging their way down the street toward them. He slipped into the whorehouse and searched out his companion, only to find him face to face with someone, presumably an irate client, for the two looked ready to tear each other to pieces. He cut in, telling him that they needed to go, NOW. He didn't respond immediately, but when he did eventually look at Jareth, who was getting increasingly more agitated even if he didn't show it, the lout took a swing at his face. He staggered away and, as he straightened, the Watch burst through the door, throwing the place into chaos. Several people, including Jareth, his companion, and the man who'd thrown the punch, scrambled for the back exit. They broke out the back and ran, Jareth turning back to see if they were being pursued, only to see a knife go whistling through the air to land square in the neck of the client. He must have actually looked shocked, for as the Watch burst through the back door after them their eyes fell on the dead man and then flew straight up to Jareth's turned face. Turning around, he skidded to a halt as another green dragon landed on the street in front of him, effectively cutting off all exits.

Knowing that he was done for, there were by then too many for him to fight, and doing so would only make it worse for him, he gave himself up. He quickly sent Riki back to the camp with instructions to cause as much chaos as possible, hopefully letting the camp know that they were captured so that they would move. They usually didn't recieve news like that for at least a day, when those sent out didn't come back, but he wanted them to more ASAP so that his daughter would be safe. He could only hope that they understood. His companion was also taken in, though not without a fight. Although Jareth knew he wouldn't tell the Watch where the camp was, and if he did he'd make sure they'd had well enough time to clear off, but he couldn't be so sure of the other.

They were taken into custody, and questioned, both accused of murder. Jareth protested, he'd not killed anyone! But nobody had seen who had thrown the knife at the man, or at least nobody had come forward, and the Watch were hardly about to believe the word of two criminals, both of whom said they had done nothing. Jareth knew better, of course, but it was pointless saying anything and he knew it. But there was no way he was letting himself go in for something he'd not done. "It couldn't have been me," he told them. "That knife wasn't mine, you should know that; you took both my knives from me yourself."

In the end, his butt was saved, somewhat, by one of the very people who helped bring him down. A witness, the greenrider who had blocked their final escape, new to the Watch and troubled by what he had seen and what he should say, finally came forward to say that he'd seen who'd thrown the knife. Jareth's name was cleared, charges put down to dust possession and distribution only. He only even saw the rider once again after that, the day he was being packed off to Warden's Weyr for incarceration. He recognised the man and, when he quite seriously nodded his thanks to the guy, was rewarded with a troubled expression, then a slight smile, hastily covered. Jareth only smiled more as he was hoisted up onto the dragon and taken between.

He took an instant dislike of the Weyr. For one, he'd never really lived by any rules other than his own in his whole life. For another, they forced him to detox. By this point he'd become a user of Dust, although he never intended to, and to this day he's actually glad that he's now free of the stuff, even if the detox process itself was the stuff of nightmares. As such, with Jareth being pretty much uncontrollable for a sevenday in the rolls of withdrawal symptoms, they took Riki from him. The one think that he had to hold onto in that week, other than his own sanity, they killed, and for that he has never quite forgiven them. Although it did give him a good idea of his situation, coming to the decision that it would be better for him, at least in the meantime, to play along with their stupid games. But that didn't mean that he'd stand there and take any s**t they threw at him.

This resolution was only strengthened when he finally had the, ahem... pleasure of meeting V'tya. He could see immediately that the Warden wanted to be there as little as he did, and also that getting on his bad side would not be advisable. Though looking at the man, he probably wouldn't care much either way. True to his intentions, to this day, over a turn later, he's managed to do just that, bar the odd fist he's thrown in retaliation, but he's not intentionally started any fights with the other prisoners. They needed taking down a peg or two anyway. Some people are just too much to bare.

Other stuff: N/A that I can think of.

---

Name: Lily (yep, it's a girl's name. Get over it)
Name of hatchling: This Land Bronze
Firefly character: Hoban “Wash” Washburne
Personality: reliable, jokester, intuitive, dependent, expert at flying, likes playing with inanimate objects


Name: Blue, or Grumpy, depends on his human's mood
Appearance: This little blue's hide has a pebbled appearance, if one works on the assumption that pebbles are a bright sapphire blue. Maybe it's a pile of gemstones? Regardless, to look at him, one would expect to touch a textured, bumpy hide instead of the truth of the smooth surface that meets the fingertips. He's quite the pretty little thing, with an extra long neck and a face that somehow gives the impression of exhaustion.
Personality: Poor little blue. From the moment he enters the world, he seems somehow exhausted by it. This isn't to say he's lazy, instead, one might say he's sad. He still does the things other firelizards do, but he somehow fails to take joy from the actions. It's as if he has some sense that things will soon go wrong, regardless of what he attempts, but he's determined to attempt them anyway.

Perhaps because of this dark attitude, training him will be difficult, though not impossible. He needs concrete bribes, doing things just to make his owner happy isn't enough. He's fond of other firelizards and seeks their company. Yet even with them, he seems to be halfhearted, playing without joy.

---

Name: Golith
Colour: Grey (CCFFCC)

Appearance: Golith is itty bitty, teeny-weeny, the smallest darned little thing ever laid eyes on unless someone watched Ruth back in the day. Even other gray dragons are surprised by this thin dragons size and the fact he likes to pretend not to be as small as he could. Other than the size, Golith is a pretty piece of work, a soft green-gray with darker gray whorls along his skin. He has exceedingly long claws and his wingspan will help make up for his size, giving the little dragon more stamina and speed than he would have otherwise.

Grab your gun
Time to go to hell
I'm no hero
Guilty as charged
Search and destroy
Found my faith
Living in sin,I'm no Jesus
but neither are you my friend

Personality: First and foremost, Golith likes you. Of course he likes you, you're a useful bit of person or dragon until, you know - you aren't. And once you're no longer of any use to Golith, you may as well not exist to the little guy. If a person tries to force him into acknowledging them well... Golith is a gray. Don't try to force him, especially if His is not fully committed to keeping his butt under controrl. People (and their dragons) are nothing but things to be studied, possibly stolen from, and enjoyed.

Does Golith enjoy other people or dragons? Yes, yes he does. He will pick and choose his favorites very carefully, sorting between one or the other until he gets a close knit circle of friends. For a boy so absolute in his decision about others, once a creature are considered useful for life, the gray will fight tooth and nail (literally) to continue to keep them in play and on his side. This doesn't mean he won't take their stuff if the moment calls for it but if they are truly his friend, they will understand.

Or something.

He is not without his sense of humor and charm. It's up to a person to keep their friends, you know. Nothing comes without it's price and for Golith, that price is keeping himself on the nice with as many useful people as he can. His humor is sometimes biting and often dry, pointing out things that could be considered embaressing for some people but, for Golith, is only amusing. He will tend to attract those who desire a strong willed personality with the ability to wise-crack and BS on a dime (as Golith has a hard time being caught off guard without an excuse or very plausible lie).

Much like his dam, Golith hordes. He likes shiny objects, sharp things, anything to make his life easier or that will please His. Being a small and rather nimble thing, Golith has little trouble getting in and out of places a large (and thus, useless) dragon would have issue with. When he sees something he wants, Golith will take it, and keep it, and add it to his collection. The only one with any real power to control this is his bondmate and one would hope this little thief had sense enough to choose a like-minded individual.

When it comes to the women, Golith doesn't really care. You fly, there is a momentary rush, yadda yadda, but where are the shiny things? Oh, he'll give Chase if His asks politely or if he thinks that there is something to gain from it himself but on the more primal part of him, Golith simply sees no point.

On the bright side, when Golith does decide to Fly after a female, he doesn't care about color. This little gray would unabashedly fly after a Gold if asked to and there is no shame in losing. Golith never loses, he chooses to give up a subpar prize to someone else! Few things flight related discourage him.

A million little pieces
We've broken into
A million little pieces
I've stolen from you

Why Me?: Why not? These two are of the same mold and Golith finds Jareth intriguing, with his lies and his charm. Golith likes lying, he likes taking things over when need be, and Jareth is just his sort to do that with. In return, Golith will give Jareth the added charm and the sneaky factor - Jareth will never be without his eyes or ears. Golith has a more brutal edge to him and if Jareth tries to keep him under control, they will make a strong pair indeed.

[nozomi]

Warden says STFU and don't use his given name, prisoner! O<

Also, approved. <3

[Spiffy]

What did I/he do? *confused*