Post by anan on Jul 1, 2008 19:43:33 GMT -8
Name: Anan
Gender: Male
Age: 27
Rank: Caminar Scout
Composed seems to define Anan's image, always seen doing things at his own pace with that strange yet somehow charming smile always gracing his features. He is of a strange breed of man, with a handsome exterior that Anan can find both a gift and a curse in given moments throughout his life. Nevertheless, he takes pride in his appearance though his intentions remain somewhat neutral, seeking no more than what he already has. He does, however, make great efforts to keep himself in the same shape, almost as if attempting to stop time on his own body. It should be surprising to know, then, that his body is not the image of perfection. Rough lightly tanned skin is lined with scars that run across his shoulders, chest, and arms. Prone to mistakes when he was younger, Anan frequently found himself entertaining wild herdbeasts and canines; not to mention, falling out of trees and catching rocks with his head. The marks on his body only remain as reminders of his carelessness.
Setting aside his composed aura, his down-to-earth nature has been known to attract much needed company to his side. Long hair of black and brown falls down his shoulders and rests neatly in the middle of his back and chest. This effect is caused predominantly by his constant exposure to the sun. It's hardly ever worn down, revealing his short layers that aren't long enough to be tied back and leaving strands of long hair down that are tied together with finely detailed gold bindings (given to him by a friend). The overall effects of this simple hairdo gives him a serene appearance, necessary should he encounter plantado during his shifts. It is the calm hue of his brown eyes, though, that are the most expressive thing on his body, easily readable to those who are closest to him.
The traditional bright colored clothing of his clan is often toned down to fit more his style. Most days his attire consists of simple earth-toned outfits with a tinge of color. Occasionally he'll shows signs of disgust at the simplicity of the attire he chooses to wear but he has no feelings of regret at the decision he made. Turns spent as a Caminar scout has softened his tastes for earth tone colors, as they provide better camouflage in comparison to traditional grab. When necessary, however, Anan is more than willing to pull out something traditional from storage.
A man not afraid to say what's on his mind, his lack of interest in political matters tends to push people's buttons, even when he's not trying to. His interests are only short-termed, tending to shift from one thing to another at an unimaginable pace. Should his interests turn long-termed, its hard for others to see it, even he refuses to acknowledge it. Moving from one thing to the other, Anan is prone to react overdramatically when too much is on his mind. He has no shame, and cares above all else, his own people, more than his own image or how people perceive him. It's no secret, however, that he enjoys toying with people...lasting from 30 secs to even days, should the person react in such a way that even Anan can't help but be hooked in.
He's playful, naturally, but his abusive comrades trust him just as much as they would trust someone from their own family. Anan is, without a doubt, a loyal friend, and has risked his own life in order to save another without a second thought.
Laughs and smiles make up the majority of his life. When placed behind a desk, its obvious that, very slowly, the life is being sucked out of him. However, he is diligent at what he does. One moment, he'll be sitting quietly, writing a report, with his head supported up with his knuckles, and the next he'll be gone with his report completed and no trace of where he went left in his stead. He takes his job with utmost seriousness, despite his desire to create a little havoc every now and then.
His weakness, however, lies in his loyalty. Open about everything else in his life, tragedy is not often dealt with accordingly. Losing someone of importance to him often leaves him vulnerable and cold towards others for many days. Though Anan does not see it fit to cry, he struggles with words and often carries the burden of it all on his own, refusing comfort and merely keeping to himself as much as he can. His first days of mourning are often spent sleepless and without food. But eventually the feelings pass, and Anan will return to his comrades in full spirit, more than willing to share memories with the others. In the past, only one person (aside from his mother) was able to deal with his childlike behavior. No one else has ever managed to fill that role.
Most of Anan’s skill lies in observation and accuracy…from a distance. Though capable of defending himself should things come to close combat (such as with an animal) Anan’s ability is based solely on secrecy and he prefers to leave it that way. As such, his means of defense is a bow and arrow, two small throwing daggers, and a dagger that rests at his waist. And, if push comes to pull, Anan is willing to use a staff he normally uses only for climbing or for keeping annoyances at a certain distance when off duty. But, in all honesty, Anan doesn’t use his weapons all that much. He’s quick to draw them when necessary, but memories of stepping on one of his arrowheads when he was younger leaves him cautious.
The youngest of three children, Anan wasn't what you would call "spoiled." The smallest difference of age from his siblings was 13 years but Anan was loved by all of his family just as much as anyone else. However, it was Anan's birth that severely weakened his mother's strength. Having been forewarned that the birth would be strenuous to her already aged body, his mother ignored all warnings from the sabedoria, and family and gave birth to him anyways. Though, remarkably, his mother survived the birth, she was bed-ridden for the rest of her life.
It was because of his mother's words to others that Anan was not blamed for her health.
Anan spent the first years of his life with his mother, learning songs and tales from her that were forever etched into his memory. Many times, he and his mother would entertain kids passing by, sometimes earning a few marks though they never asked for anything in return. His father often told him that his mother's smile was due to Anan's sincere company. Her being a dancer, the inability to use her body for dance would have devastated her otherwise. Her passing had devastated him and though he was only five, he remembered every moment with her and mourned her passing for many fortnights. It is no secret that Anan's compassion towards women was due to his mother.
The passing of his mother, however, meant that Anan was now free to do as he wished while the rest of his family persued their daily chores. Once his freedom was realized, Anan was quick to catch on, and ventured throughout the caravan. After the general layout was figured out, Anan often found himself in one of two places. He was either watching the dancers practice or wandering outside the caravan borders, searching for his brother and father. With the dancers he was often greeted with shouts, giggles, or gifts. With his father, however, he would find himself getting frowns, a scolding, or simply nothing. “It’s too dangerous for you to be out here.” Either way, the boy found himself immensely amused at what he was capable of.
When Anan was seven, he started training to become a scout with his father. Having already been somewhat familiar with what his father and brother did, Anan quickly found his place. Subject to ridicule and more than willing to return the favor, Anan remained under the influence of his father (like his mother) until he turned 18. He never forgot to visit the dancers during his training, however, and often chatted with one girl, Esther, who had danced for him after his mother's passing when he was younger.
When he was 18, after surviving many attacks, trips, falls, and head injuries, Anan’s father proclaimed him a lucky wherry and sent him on his way to find a his place among another caravan. Although not sure why, Esther was sent with him. Anan just assumed she was being sent in order to marry her future husband. She was older than him, a highly skilled dancer, and even Anan would admit she was attractive. It made sense…at least, sorta.
After turning 21, Anan had become an adept scout, often sought out by the younger recruits in times of need and providing what help he could. It was during one of these moments that one of the youngest full fledged scouts came to him desperate. Anan, at the time, had been chatting with Esther as she gathered necessary herbs for the caravan sabedoria. While he didn't often accompany Esther on her side-missions, the herbs needed for the sabedoria's bitter concoctions required Esther go past the designated safe zone. Since Anan was on good terms with Esther (for the moment), and knew the area far better than many of the other scouts, the sabedoria had declared him body guard and requested that all other duties be passed on.
The young scout had landed heaving on the ground behind them, surprising Esther while a couple seconds later, the scout found himself staring at an arrowhead. Surprised himself, but trained to act on impulse, Anan had grabbed the first thing that had come to mind. Why he hadn’t grabbed the dagger at his side, he had no clue. He could see the thought passing through the younger scout’s eyes as well. After a moments pause Anan had lowered his blade and urged the scout to speak. The scout did not bring good news. Dragons. No more than a few minutes behind. With much urgency, Anan ordered the scout to return to the caravan and inform the others. Without a moments pause, the scout had left, leaving the two, once more, on their own.
Out of sheer luck, the dragonriders and their dragon counterparts never reached the caravan. The dragonriders did, however, meet the remaining pair. The two of them watched as a brown and a blue circled above their position, the dragons’ shadows doing nothing to help the feeling of dread that overcame them. Anan considered lugging Esther over his shoulder and bounding off into the forest but, one, the dragon riders had already seen them and, two, Esther had one heck of a punch. Not in the least bit pleased at the change of events, he put his arrow away, not wanting to create a hostile environment. Though not an overall fan of dragon riders, he respected them and he was no fool. He was no match for a dragon.
Esther gathered up her herbs before standing beside him. “What do they want?” There was a hint of awe in her voice. Anan didn’t blame her. Dragons were, by far, the most beautiful creatures Anan had ever encountered on Pern but he had seen them before. Esther hadn’t.
The two waited patiently for the dragon riders to approach, Esther lightly touching Anan’s arm when one of the dragons--the blue one, Anan observed--turned and seemed to look directly at her. The blue’s rider spoke to him for a moment, then turned and walked with a grin a few strides behind the brown rider. Anan found himself annoyed, confused, and anxious. The guy looked like a fool. Even Esther couldn’t help but choke back her laughter at the sight.
“Greetings, Caminar,” the brown rider said in a friendly enough tone, though Anan could detect a hint of aggression behind it. His eyes grew thoughtful, muscles tensing slightly with caution. Though he doubted a dragon rider would do anything rash, Anan couldn’t help but feel slightly unsettled by the dragon rider’s greeting. “We happened to notice you from above--”
“That far?” Anan interrupted with a curious lift of his brow. He looked at Esther, at the bright red gown she was wearing, then grinned. “I suppose that’s feasible.” Esther flushed then gave him a nasty look out of the corner of her eye.
The brown rider coughed, glancing at Esther for a moment before continuing where he left off. “We were looking for your caravan.” The brown rider gestured towards his companion who flashed a wink at them before setting his face in a mask of seriousness.
Esther smiled, Anan, however, had his mind set on other things. “Our caravan? We are not prepared for trade. If you wish to trade, visit the next Gather at Telgar Hold.”
“We aren’t interested in trade.”
“Then why the need to visit our caravan?” Anan and the brown rider said nothing for a moment, but the glances exchanged were not in the least bit “friendly.”
“There are rumors of a few missing children,” the bluerider intervened, “we only wish to clarify whether these rumors are true or not.”
Both Esther and Anan stared at the riders, shocked. Anger glazed across Anan’s eyes while Esther looked away, trying to control her emotions. Anan’s mind flooded with angry retorts to such a claim but, despite his anger, he couldn’t forget that these men were dragon riders. Curse them! He could see the accusation in the brown rider’s eyes and to not be able to do anything…!
The bluerider, already well aware of the dangerous turn this meeting had undergone, politely coughed. “If I may provide a compromise?” When no one said anything, the rider continued. “I have reason to believe that your pretty friend here would make a lovely candidate in our next Hatching. I suspect you know that a Queen egg currently resides in that clutch. Should she agree to be Searched, we would have no choice but to go.”
By the time any of the other scouts reached Anan, Anan was alone. "Where's Esther?"
"Searched," was all that Anan said, then he turned and left. He hasn't seen her since.
Six turns later, Anan finds himself residing in the same place Esther is believed to be. Anan, however, is not at the weyr out of choice. Though able to avoid many ambushes, Anan and his caravan could not avoid all of them. The stress from worrying about every single thing they did became too much and, after hearing of a momentary haven for their people, Anan and his caravan soon founds themselves at Telgar. Though not at all pleased at the decision, Anan made no protest. Instead, he did what he could to get those that remained of the caravan to the weyr safely. Now, even though they are safe within the weyr, Anan is on edge. He can’t forget his meeting with that brown rider…what had happened to Esther?
Have you read Game Philosophy and The Rules of Tempus Fugit?
yes
Gender: Male
Age: 27
Rank: Caminar Scout
Physical Description
Composed seems to define Anan's image, always seen doing things at his own pace with that strange yet somehow charming smile always gracing his features. He is of a strange breed of man, with a handsome exterior that Anan can find both a gift and a curse in given moments throughout his life. Nevertheless, he takes pride in his appearance though his intentions remain somewhat neutral, seeking no more than what he already has. He does, however, make great efforts to keep himself in the same shape, almost as if attempting to stop time on his own body. It should be surprising to know, then, that his body is not the image of perfection. Rough lightly tanned skin is lined with scars that run across his shoulders, chest, and arms. Prone to mistakes when he was younger, Anan frequently found himself entertaining wild herdbeasts and canines; not to mention, falling out of trees and catching rocks with his head. The marks on his body only remain as reminders of his carelessness.
Setting aside his composed aura, his down-to-earth nature has been known to attract much needed company to his side. Long hair of black and brown falls down his shoulders and rests neatly in the middle of his back and chest. This effect is caused predominantly by his constant exposure to the sun. It's hardly ever worn down, revealing his short layers that aren't long enough to be tied back and leaving strands of long hair down that are tied together with finely detailed gold bindings (given to him by a friend). The overall effects of this simple hairdo gives him a serene appearance, necessary should he encounter plantado during his shifts. It is the calm hue of his brown eyes, though, that are the most expressive thing on his body, easily readable to those who are closest to him.
The traditional bright colored clothing of his clan is often toned down to fit more his style. Most days his attire consists of simple earth-toned outfits with a tinge of color. Occasionally he'll shows signs of disgust at the simplicity of the attire he chooses to wear but he has no feelings of regret at the decision he made. Turns spent as a Caminar scout has softened his tastes for earth tone colors, as they provide better camouflage in comparison to traditional grab. When necessary, however, Anan is more than willing to pull out something traditional from storage.
Personality
A man not afraid to say what's on his mind, his lack of interest in political matters tends to push people's buttons, even when he's not trying to. His interests are only short-termed, tending to shift from one thing to another at an unimaginable pace. Should his interests turn long-termed, its hard for others to see it, even he refuses to acknowledge it. Moving from one thing to the other, Anan is prone to react overdramatically when too much is on his mind. He has no shame, and cares above all else, his own people, more than his own image or how people perceive him. It's no secret, however, that he enjoys toying with people...lasting from 30 secs to even days, should the person react in such a way that even Anan can't help but be hooked in.
He's playful, naturally, but his abusive comrades trust him just as much as they would trust someone from their own family. Anan is, without a doubt, a loyal friend, and has risked his own life in order to save another without a second thought.
Laughs and smiles make up the majority of his life. When placed behind a desk, its obvious that, very slowly, the life is being sucked out of him. However, he is diligent at what he does. One moment, he'll be sitting quietly, writing a report, with his head supported up with his knuckles, and the next he'll be gone with his report completed and no trace of where he went left in his stead. He takes his job with utmost seriousness, despite his desire to create a little havoc every now and then.
His weakness, however, lies in his loyalty. Open about everything else in his life, tragedy is not often dealt with accordingly. Losing someone of importance to him often leaves him vulnerable and cold towards others for many days. Though Anan does not see it fit to cry, he struggles with words and often carries the burden of it all on his own, refusing comfort and merely keeping to himself as much as he can. His first days of mourning are often spent sleepless and without food. But eventually the feelings pass, and Anan will return to his comrades in full spirit, more than willing to share memories with the others. In the past, only one person (aside from his mother) was able to deal with his childlike behavior. No one else has ever managed to fill that role.
Most of Anan’s skill lies in observation and accuracy…from a distance. Though capable of defending himself should things come to close combat (such as with an animal) Anan’s ability is based solely on secrecy and he prefers to leave it that way. As such, his means of defense is a bow and arrow, two small throwing daggers, and a dagger that rests at his waist. And, if push comes to pull, Anan is willing to use a staff he normally uses only for climbing or for keeping annoyances at a certain distance when off duty. But, in all honesty, Anan doesn’t use his weapons all that much. He’s quick to draw them when necessary, but memories of stepping on one of his arrowheads when he was younger leaves him cautious.
Background
The youngest of three children, Anan wasn't what you would call "spoiled." The smallest difference of age from his siblings was 13 years but Anan was loved by all of his family just as much as anyone else. However, it was Anan's birth that severely weakened his mother's strength. Having been forewarned that the birth would be strenuous to her already aged body, his mother ignored all warnings from the sabedoria, and family and gave birth to him anyways. Though, remarkably, his mother survived the birth, she was bed-ridden for the rest of her life.
It was because of his mother's words to others that Anan was not blamed for her health.
Anan spent the first years of his life with his mother, learning songs and tales from her that were forever etched into his memory. Many times, he and his mother would entertain kids passing by, sometimes earning a few marks though they never asked for anything in return. His father often told him that his mother's smile was due to Anan's sincere company. Her being a dancer, the inability to use her body for dance would have devastated her otherwise. Her passing had devastated him and though he was only five, he remembered every moment with her and mourned her passing for many fortnights. It is no secret that Anan's compassion towards women was due to his mother.
The passing of his mother, however, meant that Anan was now free to do as he wished while the rest of his family persued their daily chores. Once his freedom was realized, Anan was quick to catch on, and ventured throughout the caravan. After the general layout was figured out, Anan often found himself in one of two places. He was either watching the dancers practice or wandering outside the caravan borders, searching for his brother and father. With the dancers he was often greeted with shouts, giggles, or gifts. With his father, however, he would find himself getting frowns, a scolding, or simply nothing. “It’s too dangerous for you to be out here.” Either way, the boy found himself immensely amused at what he was capable of.
When Anan was seven, he started training to become a scout with his father. Having already been somewhat familiar with what his father and brother did, Anan quickly found his place. Subject to ridicule and more than willing to return the favor, Anan remained under the influence of his father (like his mother) until he turned 18. He never forgot to visit the dancers during his training, however, and often chatted with one girl, Esther, who had danced for him after his mother's passing when he was younger.
When he was 18, after surviving many attacks, trips, falls, and head injuries, Anan’s father proclaimed him a lucky wherry and sent him on his way to find a his place among another caravan. Although not sure why, Esther was sent with him. Anan just assumed she was being sent in order to marry her future husband. She was older than him, a highly skilled dancer, and even Anan would admit she was attractive. It made sense…at least, sorta.
After turning 21, Anan had become an adept scout, often sought out by the younger recruits in times of need and providing what help he could. It was during one of these moments that one of the youngest full fledged scouts came to him desperate. Anan, at the time, had been chatting with Esther as she gathered necessary herbs for the caravan sabedoria. While he didn't often accompany Esther on her side-missions, the herbs needed for the sabedoria's bitter concoctions required Esther go past the designated safe zone. Since Anan was on good terms with Esther (for the moment), and knew the area far better than many of the other scouts, the sabedoria had declared him body guard and requested that all other duties be passed on.
The young scout had landed heaving on the ground behind them, surprising Esther while a couple seconds later, the scout found himself staring at an arrowhead. Surprised himself, but trained to act on impulse, Anan had grabbed the first thing that had come to mind. Why he hadn’t grabbed the dagger at his side, he had no clue. He could see the thought passing through the younger scout’s eyes as well. After a moments pause Anan had lowered his blade and urged the scout to speak. The scout did not bring good news. Dragons. No more than a few minutes behind. With much urgency, Anan ordered the scout to return to the caravan and inform the others. Without a moments pause, the scout had left, leaving the two, once more, on their own.
Out of sheer luck, the dragonriders and their dragon counterparts never reached the caravan. The dragonriders did, however, meet the remaining pair. The two of them watched as a brown and a blue circled above their position, the dragons’ shadows doing nothing to help the feeling of dread that overcame them. Anan considered lugging Esther over his shoulder and bounding off into the forest but, one, the dragon riders had already seen them and, two, Esther had one heck of a punch. Not in the least bit pleased at the change of events, he put his arrow away, not wanting to create a hostile environment. Though not an overall fan of dragon riders, he respected them and he was no fool. He was no match for a dragon.
Esther gathered up her herbs before standing beside him. “What do they want?” There was a hint of awe in her voice. Anan didn’t blame her. Dragons were, by far, the most beautiful creatures Anan had ever encountered on Pern but he had seen them before. Esther hadn’t.
The two waited patiently for the dragon riders to approach, Esther lightly touching Anan’s arm when one of the dragons--the blue one, Anan observed--turned and seemed to look directly at her. The blue’s rider spoke to him for a moment, then turned and walked with a grin a few strides behind the brown rider. Anan found himself annoyed, confused, and anxious. The guy looked like a fool. Even Esther couldn’t help but choke back her laughter at the sight.
“Greetings, Caminar,” the brown rider said in a friendly enough tone, though Anan could detect a hint of aggression behind it. His eyes grew thoughtful, muscles tensing slightly with caution. Though he doubted a dragon rider would do anything rash, Anan couldn’t help but feel slightly unsettled by the dragon rider’s greeting. “We happened to notice you from above--”
“That far?” Anan interrupted with a curious lift of his brow. He looked at Esther, at the bright red gown she was wearing, then grinned. “I suppose that’s feasible.” Esther flushed then gave him a nasty look out of the corner of her eye.
The brown rider coughed, glancing at Esther for a moment before continuing where he left off. “We were looking for your caravan.” The brown rider gestured towards his companion who flashed a wink at them before setting his face in a mask of seriousness.
Esther smiled, Anan, however, had his mind set on other things. “Our caravan? We are not prepared for trade. If you wish to trade, visit the next Gather at Telgar Hold.”
“We aren’t interested in trade.”
“Then why the need to visit our caravan?” Anan and the brown rider said nothing for a moment, but the glances exchanged were not in the least bit “friendly.”
“There are rumors of a few missing children,” the bluerider intervened, “we only wish to clarify whether these rumors are true or not.”
Both Esther and Anan stared at the riders, shocked. Anger glazed across Anan’s eyes while Esther looked away, trying to control her emotions. Anan’s mind flooded with angry retorts to such a claim but, despite his anger, he couldn’t forget that these men were dragon riders. Curse them! He could see the accusation in the brown rider’s eyes and to not be able to do anything…!
The bluerider, already well aware of the dangerous turn this meeting had undergone, politely coughed. “If I may provide a compromise?” When no one said anything, the rider continued. “I have reason to believe that your pretty friend here would make a lovely candidate in our next Hatching. I suspect you know that a Queen egg currently resides in that clutch. Should she agree to be Searched, we would have no choice but to go.”
By the time any of the other scouts reached Anan, Anan was alone. "Where's Esther?"
"Searched," was all that Anan said, then he turned and left. He hasn't seen her since.
Six turns later, Anan finds himself residing in the same place Esther is believed to be. Anan, however, is not at the weyr out of choice. Though able to avoid many ambushes, Anan and his caravan could not avoid all of them. The stress from worrying about every single thing they did became too much and, after hearing of a momentary haven for their people, Anan and his caravan soon founds themselves at Telgar. Though not at all pleased at the decision, Anan made no protest. Instead, he did what he could to get those that remained of the caravan to the weyr safely. Now, even though they are safe within the weyr, Anan is on edge. He can’t forget his meeting with that brown rider…what had happened to Esther?
Have you read Game Philosophy and The Rules of Tempus Fugit?
yes
