Post by Invisible on May 27, 2008 19:35:51 GMT -8
Name: K'mar
Gender: Male
Age: 22
Rank: Weyrling
A short man, K'mar tries to make up for it with perfect posture. His blonde hair is already starting to thin at the crown and recede at his forehead. Green eyes rarely have any sort of sparkle to them and instead he watches everything with a serious intensity that borders on rude when he focuses on one person. He has a wiry build and although he shows no obvious muscles he does seem to be in good shape. Although he doesn’t look old there’s something about him that gives the impression of a man in middle-age.
His clothes are well kept, but often mismatched in color. As if he can be bothered to dress in clean, pressed clothes, but doesn’t quite get that orange and blue might not be the best choice.
K'mar desperately wants to make his father proud. He pushes himself at all times to be the best that he can. Since he was a child he’s never stopped going. His moods are intense and he has a hard time slowing down to make friends. People seem to drift in and out of his life with little notice. He’s always trying to do one more thing to make his father proud of him. When he does try to make friends he tries too hard and tends to run them off.
(Note: The information below this note is not public knowledge. If you are going to use it in RP I ask that you discuss it with me first. Thank you.)
All of this has lead to K'mar’s one vice. He’s got a bit of a drinking problem. This usually is never an issue as he only does so when he cannot have to worry about dealing with people. However, when he cannot drink in solitude he will conceal just how much he does drink. While not the sort to go around constantly drunk it’s not a day that goes by without him having to have more than his share of alcohol. Any extra sullenness is just attributed to his usual less than friendly moods.
Konamar was born to brownrider G’nar and a lower caverns worker named Kami. His father was indifferent to the child and had already had several others over the turns. Just another in a string of kids left to be raised by their mother or someone they chose to foster their kid out to. Although Kami knew G’nar had no interest in his son she thought a son should have a father. So, every night she told Konamar tales of what a great man his dad was.
Growing up hearing about him Konamar was determined to be different. He would not be like the half-brothers and sisters he didn’t really know. He would be noticed by G’nar and would make his father proud. Determined to do this he chose not to apprentice even though several crafts might have appealed to him. He found work at the Weyr in the headwoman’s staff. He helped those who organized the stores and kept an inventory of what was there and what was needed.
The work was to keep busy and to show his father that he would not be a drain on the Weyr. But, it wasn’t really his work. Rather it was just a way to spend time before he could stand. Konamar was determined to impress and show his father he was not like the other children. He was worthy of his father’s love and admiration. So determined to do this was he that life seemed to pass him by. Girls who showed any interest in him soon moved on to someone who might actually notice them. His mother regretted the tales she had told, but it was too late to change things now. She tried to do damage control, but there was little to be done.
Since he was of an age to do so Konamar has stood for every clutch to come along. Unfortunately for him he never found his match on the hot sands. The first time he failed he went off alone with a skin of wine and from then on out he drowned his sorrows in whatever wine he could get his hands on. As the turns went on he began to drink more and more. His work never suffers and as he has no relationships neither do they. He’s become so good at concealing what he does that even his mother has no idea how much wine her son imbibes.
When the latest clutch was laid Konamar’s mother tried to talk him out of standing. He’d tried and failed enough, she thought. Best to just get on with his life and find a road to travel. But, Konamar refuses to give up hope while it exists. He’ll stand this one last time and he couldn’t say what would happen if he left the sands alone for the last time.
Luckily that did not happen and while candidates and observes alike watched more showy occurrences brown Volsteath found K'mar and he finally stepped off the sands with a dragon rather than just his dark mood. How the pair survive weyrlinghood remains to be seen.
Dragon's Name:Volsteath
Color:Brown
Age:Less than one year.
Physical Description: There's nothing especially unique or eye-catching about this dark fellow; nothing to draw any particular attention to him. He's a pleasing brown, rich like tilled earth, from his finely-shaped muzzle to the forked tip of his average-length tail. His chest is broad enough, but not so wide as to make him bulky. Legs are lean, but not overly-long. Large eyes, by placement or the intellect behind them, seem especially bright. His wings, when spread, offer his only variation in color: lighter and darker browns swirling together like liquids mixing.
Personality: Volsteath is, seemingly, everything a good brown ought to be: patient, loyal, steadfast and willing to take orders from his superiors. When there are superiors around to watch him, at any rate. But, when the higher ups are away, this brown is very good at being bad. He'll exchange favors with other dragons, encourage (or create) sneaky ways to get more of anything than is his share, and even, once he's old enough, go so far as to throw the occasional flight. Volsteath is, much as any dragon can be, 'a man who can get you things'. He'll include you, his rider, in such schemes if you're willing. If not, he'll do his best to run his little racket alone.
Other:
Mindvoice:
When Volsteath speaks, there is always an odd sense of something happening behind his words, just out of range. Music briefly heard or voices that are muffled and muted by distance. The faint tink of glasses or the tip-tap of faraway footsteps. To focus on this strange background ambiance is to lose it entirely, but listen out of the corner of your mind, and you might swear a good time is being secretly had somewhere in your dragon's thoughts. (Color 402a12)
Inspiration:
On October 28, 1919 congress passed an act which specified that "no person shall manufacture, sell, barter, transport, import, export, deliver, furnish or possess any intoxicating liquor except as authorized by this act". The combination of the Eighteenth Amendment to the United States Constitution and the laws passed under its authority became known simply as "Prohibition" and enormously affected United States society in the 1920s (popularly known as the Roaring Twenties).
Production, importation and distribution of alcoholic beverages—once the province of legitimate business—were taken over by criminal gangs, which fought each other for market control in violent confrontations, including mass murder. Top gangsters became rich and were admired locally, such as Omaha's Tom Dennison, and nationally, such as Chicago's Al Capone. This effectively made murderers into national celebrities. Enforcement was difficult because the gangs became so rich that they were often able to bribe underpaid and understaffed law-enforcement personnel and hire top lawyers. Many citizens were sympathetic to bootleggers and respectable citizens were lured to the romance of illegal speakeasies, also called "blind pigs". In several major cities—notably those which served as major points of liquor importation, including Chicago and Detroit—gangs wielded effective political power. A Michigan State Police raid on Detroit's Deutsches Haus once netted the mayor, the sheriff, and the local congressman.
The Act was repealed in 1933.
Volsteath gets his name for the Act that started Prohibition: The Volstead Act.
Have you read Game Philosophy and The Rules of Tempus Fugit? Y-E-S
Gender: Male
Age: 22
Rank: Weyrling
Physical Description
A short man, K'mar tries to make up for it with perfect posture. His blonde hair is already starting to thin at the crown and recede at his forehead. Green eyes rarely have any sort of sparkle to them and instead he watches everything with a serious intensity that borders on rude when he focuses on one person. He has a wiry build and although he shows no obvious muscles he does seem to be in good shape. Although he doesn’t look old there’s something about him that gives the impression of a man in middle-age.
His clothes are well kept, but often mismatched in color. As if he can be bothered to dress in clean, pressed clothes, but doesn’t quite get that orange and blue might not be the best choice.
Personality
K'mar desperately wants to make his father proud. He pushes himself at all times to be the best that he can. Since he was a child he’s never stopped going. His moods are intense and he has a hard time slowing down to make friends. People seem to drift in and out of his life with little notice. He’s always trying to do one more thing to make his father proud of him. When he does try to make friends he tries too hard and tends to run them off.
(Note: The information below this note is not public knowledge. If you are going to use it in RP I ask that you discuss it with me first. Thank you.)
All of this has lead to K'mar’s one vice. He’s got a bit of a drinking problem. This usually is never an issue as he only does so when he cannot have to worry about dealing with people. However, when he cannot drink in solitude he will conceal just how much he does drink. While not the sort to go around constantly drunk it’s not a day that goes by without him having to have more than his share of alcohol. Any extra sullenness is just attributed to his usual less than friendly moods.
Background
Konamar was born to brownrider G’nar and a lower caverns worker named Kami. His father was indifferent to the child and had already had several others over the turns. Just another in a string of kids left to be raised by their mother or someone they chose to foster their kid out to. Although Kami knew G’nar had no interest in his son she thought a son should have a father. So, every night she told Konamar tales of what a great man his dad was.
Growing up hearing about him Konamar was determined to be different. He would not be like the half-brothers and sisters he didn’t really know. He would be noticed by G’nar and would make his father proud. Determined to do this he chose not to apprentice even though several crafts might have appealed to him. He found work at the Weyr in the headwoman’s staff. He helped those who organized the stores and kept an inventory of what was there and what was needed.
The work was to keep busy and to show his father that he would not be a drain on the Weyr. But, it wasn’t really his work. Rather it was just a way to spend time before he could stand. Konamar was determined to impress and show his father he was not like the other children. He was worthy of his father’s love and admiration. So determined to do this was he that life seemed to pass him by. Girls who showed any interest in him soon moved on to someone who might actually notice them. His mother regretted the tales she had told, but it was too late to change things now. She tried to do damage control, but there was little to be done.
Since he was of an age to do so Konamar has stood for every clutch to come along. Unfortunately for him he never found his match on the hot sands. The first time he failed he went off alone with a skin of wine and from then on out he drowned his sorrows in whatever wine he could get his hands on. As the turns went on he began to drink more and more. His work never suffers and as he has no relationships neither do they. He’s become so good at concealing what he does that even his mother has no idea how much wine her son imbibes.
When the latest clutch was laid Konamar’s mother tried to talk him out of standing. He’d tried and failed enough, she thought. Best to just get on with his life and find a road to travel. But, Konamar refuses to give up hope while it exists. He’ll stand this one last time and he couldn’t say what would happen if he left the sands alone for the last time.
Luckily that did not happen and while candidates and observes alike watched more showy occurrences brown Volsteath found K'mar and he finally stepped off the sands with a dragon rather than just his dark mood. How the pair survive weyrlinghood remains to be seen.
Dragonriders
Dragon's Name:Volsteath
Color:Brown
Age:Less than one year.
Physical Description: There's nothing especially unique or eye-catching about this dark fellow; nothing to draw any particular attention to him. He's a pleasing brown, rich like tilled earth, from his finely-shaped muzzle to the forked tip of his average-length tail. His chest is broad enough, but not so wide as to make him bulky. Legs are lean, but not overly-long. Large eyes, by placement or the intellect behind them, seem especially bright. His wings, when spread, offer his only variation in color: lighter and darker browns swirling together like liquids mixing.
Personality: Volsteath is, seemingly, everything a good brown ought to be: patient, loyal, steadfast and willing to take orders from his superiors. When there are superiors around to watch him, at any rate. But, when the higher ups are away, this brown is very good at being bad. He'll exchange favors with other dragons, encourage (or create) sneaky ways to get more of anything than is his share, and even, once he's old enough, go so far as to throw the occasional flight. Volsteath is, much as any dragon can be, 'a man who can get you things'. He'll include you, his rider, in such schemes if you're willing. If not, he'll do his best to run his little racket alone.
Other:
Mindvoice:
When Volsteath speaks, there is always an odd sense of something happening behind his words, just out of range. Music briefly heard or voices that are muffled and muted by distance. The faint tink of glasses or the tip-tap of faraway footsteps. To focus on this strange background ambiance is to lose it entirely, but listen out of the corner of your mind, and you might swear a good time is being secretly had somewhere in your dragon's thoughts. (Color 402a12)
Inspiration:
On October 28, 1919 congress passed an act which specified that "no person shall manufacture, sell, barter, transport, import, export, deliver, furnish or possess any intoxicating liquor except as authorized by this act". The combination of the Eighteenth Amendment to the United States Constitution and the laws passed under its authority became known simply as "Prohibition" and enormously affected United States society in the 1920s (popularly known as the Roaring Twenties).
Production, importation and distribution of alcoholic beverages—once the province of legitimate business—were taken over by criminal gangs, which fought each other for market control in violent confrontations, including mass murder. Top gangsters became rich and were admired locally, such as Omaha's Tom Dennison, and nationally, such as Chicago's Al Capone. This effectively made murderers into national celebrities. Enforcement was difficult because the gangs became so rich that they were often able to bribe underpaid and understaffed law-enforcement personnel and hire top lawyers. Many citizens were sympathetic to bootleggers and respectable citizens were lured to the romance of illegal speakeasies, also called "blind pigs". In several major cities—notably those which served as major points of liquor importation, including Chicago and Detroit—gangs wielded effective political power. A Michigan State Police raid on Detroit's Deutsches Haus once netted the mayor, the sheriff, and the local congressman.
The Act was repealed in 1933.
Volsteath gets his name for the Act that started Prohibition: The Volstead Act.
Have you read Game Philosophy and The Rules of Tempus Fugit? Y-E-S
