Fasail and Aroure, Rider and Dragon
Apr 20, 2014 20:41:05 GMT -5
Post by Harbor on Apr 20, 2014 20:41:05 GMT -5
Full Name: Fasail, daughter of Severon
Other name:
Race: Elven
Side: Varden
Birthplace:
Ilea Feon
Age:
194
Gender:
Female
Birthday:
Deep winter
Eyes:
Brown
Hair:
Deep auburn, leaning more toward brown than red, tapering down to the backs of her thighs.
Weight:
152 pounds
Height:
5' 10"
Magic User:
Yes, but due to her growing distractability and past troubles with it, she hesitates to use magic whenever there are other means.
Preferred Weapon(s):
A solid staff, less likely to cause permanent injury and useful in multiple ways.
Appearance: Fasail is a little taller than most of the female elves she knows, just an inch or two under six feet, and of an average, slender elven figure. Due to her training she has more muscle on her bones than the average female, but they hardly slow her down. She’s made a point to maintain the flexibility and fine motor skills she had when she considered herself an artist, the quick and strong hands, and never allows herself to focus only on one skill set. She has a narrow face with proud cheekbones and observant brown eyes, and brown hair that drifts and tapers down to her mid-thighs. A vanity, she knows, but she hardly cares. She keeps it because it’s there, and because she wouldn’t cry if someone were to cut it all off. Making Fasail cry is too high a feat for one head of hair to be the cause of tears. Her only other vanity is the number of gold rings running up the rims of both ears. As far as clothing, she prefers whatever is comfortable, allows her ease of near-constant motion, and keeps her warm or cool depending on the weather. Her clothing often has stains or tears because of her disregard for fashion and others’ opinions of her, and when others mention them in distaste she is more likely to bear them proudly than to fix them. There is a scar from a skirmish running from an inch ahead and underneath her right ear down to the back of her neck and shoulder.
Personality: Fasail has a typically friendly nature, despite her apparent coolness to other races besides elves. She is extremely leery of forming meaningful bonds with anyone but elves, for her own reasons. Her great respect for the strengths and weaknesses of all races has not diminished, however her seeming disregard often comes across as prejudice, and with her unwilling to explain herself, the appearance of stigma sticks. When feeling the least antsy her humor comes across as quick with a turn of the unexpected, and when not tunnel-visioned on a set task she prefers the freedom of amusing observations to dry ones. However she is adept at switching from lightheartedness to solemnity in instants.
Having an artistic mind and vision of the world, everything Fasail hears or sees takes on a creative imprint. Yes, having to slaughter the arsonists when they fought back was gruesome—but the way one of them dove to defend a man he hated, putting aside his love of his own life in favor of a man he considered more worthy to live despite his own loathing, is beautiful. Not all beauty resides solely in sea life and stars.
Despite her naturally pleasant nature, her somewhat impatient tendencies can make her short. When they are at their worst she is curt, dismissive, argumentative and harsh. Due to her high expectations of both herself and of others, strains of these traits thread through her average demeanor anyway, but it is only when she is at her most strained that they come before her desire to give others reason to smile. Others have often remarked upon the sharp twist between what they see as two separate demeanors, but Fasail is loathe to explain herself even when she has the explanation, and said others are nearly always left wanting of her answer. Fasail would prefer for others to see her as cold before they see her as weak, and that is what she fears above all else. For all of her disregard of others’ opinions—of her clothes, of her personality—she cannot abide the thought that they think she is vulnerable. She will exhaust herself before asking for most kinds of help.
One of the precious few exceptions is when it comes to magic. Fasail fears her magic for what it did to her sight, causing her colorblindness, and her and others’ subsequent failures to fix it. She will attempt all other means to solve a problem herself before coming to the solution of magic, and then she will ask another to form the spell before she ever tries herself. Many things that others do by magic she continually does by hand. She’s afraid of harming herself even further, or harming someone else.
--->Likes:
Drawing, fighting, strenuous exercise, physical exhaustion, going on trips to new places
--->Dislikes:
Down time, her own anxiety, her sight, her magic
--->Strengths:
Endurance, persistence, hiding her fears
--->Weakness:
Letting her fears turn into poison, getting anxious when bored
Family:
Ritiala and Severon, both still in Osilon.
History: Fasail was born in Ilea Feon, an only child, and grew up among the other elves, but also near humans, dwarves and even a few urgals of the region. She adored the diversity the variation of races allowed to her development of knowledge and her opinions regarding the world. Urgal companions taught her how to wrestle with a variety of people or beasts from a young age; dwarves taught her how to read the land and concentrate or simplify all of its abstract details; humans taught her swift efficiency and an appreciation of broad scenes while she was caught up in the minutiae; her own elves taught her a love of her own people and ways while maintaining love for others. As a small child, Fasail was incredibly happy with her life.
But then her friends began to die off. Before she was even finished with her schooling they were sickening, weakening, turning frail and translucent, their bones and veins pressing against and through thin skin until the skin no longer held them all together, and Fasail had to quickly learn that childhood funerals were going to become a regular part of her life. She had hated how many of her friends matured past where she could at her stage in her own life, and how some of them left her behind and lonely, even though she had understood why they did it. She could still enjoy them from afar. But when she watched them fall one after the other like seasonal flowers she began to hate that she had ever made such diverse friends, and soon after, stopped trying.
Fasail had always been artistic, more so than the other elves—often lauded for their attraction and attention to beauty—so when the list went around asking after those who wanted to train to try to convince the hidden egg to hatch for them, Fasail hardly spared a moment to ignore it. She wasn’t interested in spending more time in lessons—although admittedly she did adore learning—she just loved drawing more. Fasail spent over a decade drawing and occasionally painting such scenes and creatures and moments that looked as though the flesh in her canvas would yield if you stroked it. She took a particular interest in oceanic themes, and one of her favorite subjects to depict remains the integration of oceanic matter into everyday life: A man washing dishes in a seashell sink bordered by shelf coral, a child with anemones growing from her shoulders in waves, a howling woman with octopus tentacles writhing about her head. However, despite her talent and despite the support she garnered from and for it, Fasail still wasn’t happy.
She had always been capable of sitting utterly still, for hours on end, unerringly focused on her artwork, entirely encapsulated by it, untouched by anything but the charcoal on her fingers and rubbed into paper. But outside that world, in all moments when she was not thus absorbed, her bones burned as though they would come through her skin. Her muscles twitched with a restless anxiety or other irritant. She fidgeted as though unable to control the spasms, and even her mind she couldn’t keep properly maintained. Her magic began to suffer for it, and while doing a spell meant to increase her ability to see minute, miniscule detail unavailable even through a magnifying glass, she accidentally destroyed her ability to perceive color. Some days she’s worrying that her sight is deteriorating further, not that she will ever admit that.
Fasail very nearly abandoned her artwork entirely. Others tried to assist her in regaining the other half of her sight, but after the first several failed attempts, she developed the fear that if they continued to try her sight would be destroyed fully and forever, and forbade them from trying further. Her bones felt nearly blackened by the urgency she felt to move, so she approached the scholars, and requested admittance. They reviewed her abnormal case and her break in schooling, and allowed her entrance.
Being nearly twenty years older than all of her other classmates was not as alienating as others may have expected. Twenty years was not so long in the lifetime of an elf. She was able to make suitable companions among her classmates with ease. Her studies occupied her mind and the training, while not always exhausting enough for her liking, occupied the tremors she sometimes developed from an overburden of energy. The extensive schooling passed, and Fasail classmates approached the only egg remained silent and frozen. Fasail allowed the others to approach the egg first--they all jockeyed for the first positions--and she stood back gladly.
But when Aroure hatched for her, the waiting did not seem so terrible. Others told her that her dragon was a pale lilac in color, some sort of lavender, leaning toward red as opposed to blue. It sounded like such a lovely, otherworldly color that Fasail nearly cried, almost wishing Aroure had been some duller, dimmer hue, such as your average blue or green, but she comforted herself knowing that others could enjoy what she could not.
Other Riding pairs may have complained of the ‘grunt work’ that they were first delegated to, but Fasail loved it for its continuous activity, and Aroure as well for the peace that came from genuine labor. Down time was a far harder struggle for Fasail than chasing bandits, plowing vast fields, or the endless combat training, and through their bond it became a task as well. When the time came to a more narrow occupation, they decided to take on leadership of the scouting parties they secretly headed. The harder it was to find or contain their enemies, the better. Aroure did her best to alleviate what Fasail called her ‘burning’, but when neither of them understood its nature they could hardly fight it. In truth, Fasail is angry, furious, with the world for how it has evolved. Why allow sentient races to mix and befriend one another when they will only be torn apart later on? Why allow such a world to exist, and then even integrated communities! Just so that friends may grow deeper into one another, and have even more vital pieces of themselves ripped out when one half dies? It is utterly pointless, and in a world that has evolved through the efficient, individual purposes of each of its inhabitants, why would such pain exist?
Anything extra: Fasail will soon go blind entirely.
* * *
Name:
Aroure
Side: Varden
Birthplace:
Was his/her egg in the wild or with the empire/varden:
If Dragon Rider, how did the rider find the egg?: (stolen, given, found in wild?)
Age:
34
Gender:
Female
Eyes:
Red
Scale Color:
Pale lavender, with red undertones
Appearance: Aroure is nearly ninety feet long from nose to tail. Her lavender scales are darker along her back and around her spinal spikes, and the scales of her underbelly are a pale red-violet, glittering in muted light but not in bright or dim. Her scales are rough from constant use but sharp from constant attention. She likes to lick them to sharpness in idle time, of which she is far less frightened than Fasail. Some are unnerved by her crimson eyes but they serve her purposes. She's missing a spike two-thirds of the way down her tail from the same skirmish that gave Fasail the scar on the right side of her neck.
Personality: Complementary to Fasail's need to be in constant motion, Aroure finds contentment doing virtually anything, and her bad moods are rarer than creatures who are large enough to cause her harm. She finds amusement and gladness in everything from discovering that nothing was left in her teeth after a meal to watching Fasail come down from a red-faced rant when her 'burning' gets too deep. She's more likely to lay silently and pleasantly watch while Fasail voices both of their opinions more eloquently than she feels she can than to interject her own thoughts. Neither she nor Fasail are particularly chatty, but Aroure is still less so. She is extremely defensive of her Rider, but knows that Fasail prefers to fight her own battles, and only intervenes when she's feeling particularly offended or she thinks Fasail may need her help. She isn't above pinning down or kidnapping her Rider.
--->Likes:
Observing, taking private amusement at said amusements and sharing them with Fasail or others she believes will appreciate it, lounging in the sun, diving in deep water
--->Dislikes:
Fasail picking fights, those who want her to be more of an extrovert, Fasail being as private as she is
--->Strengths:
Strong sense of right and wrong, inner peace, not taking things personally
--->Weakness:
Coming across as shy, micromanaging the affairs of those she loves, overthinking things
Other name:
Race: Elven
Side: Varden
Birthplace:
Ilea Feon
Age:
194
Gender:
Female
Birthday:
Deep winter
Eyes:
Brown
Hair:
Deep auburn, leaning more toward brown than red, tapering down to the backs of her thighs.
Weight:
152 pounds
Height:
5' 10"
Magic User:
Yes, but due to her growing distractability and past troubles with it, she hesitates to use magic whenever there are other means.
Preferred Weapon(s):
A solid staff, less likely to cause permanent injury and useful in multiple ways.
Appearance: Fasail is a little taller than most of the female elves she knows, just an inch or two under six feet, and of an average, slender elven figure. Due to her training she has more muscle on her bones than the average female, but they hardly slow her down. She’s made a point to maintain the flexibility and fine motor skills she had when she considered herself an artist, the quick and strong hands, and never allows herself to focus only on one skill set. She has a narrow face with proud cheekbones and observant brown eyes, and brown hair that drifts and tapers down to her mid-thighs. A vanity, she knows, but she hardly cares. She keeps it because it’s there, and because she wouldn’t cry if someone were to cut it all off. Making Fasail cry is too high a feat for one head of hair to be the cause of tears. Her only other vanity is the number of gold rings running up the rims of both ears. As far as clothing, she prefers whatever is comfortable, allows her ease of near-constant motion, and keeps her warm or cool depending on the weather. Her clothing often has stains or tears because of her disregard for fashion and others’ opinions of her, and when others mention them in distaste she is more likely to bear them proudly than to fix them. There is a scar from a skirmish running from an inch ahead and underneath her right ear down to the back of her neck and shoulder.
Personality: Fasail has a typically friendly nature, despite her apparent coolness to other races besides elves. She is extremely leery of forming meaningful bonds with anyone but elves, for her own reasons. Her great respect for the strengths and weaknesses of all races has not diminished, however her seeming disregard often comes across as prejudice, and with her unwilling to explain herself, the appearance of stigma sticks. When feeling the least antsy her humor comes across as quick with a turn of the unexpected, and when not tunnel-visioned on a set task she prefers the freedom of amusing observations to dry ones. However she is adept at switching from lightheartedness to solemnity in instants.
Having an artistic mind and vision of the world, everything Fasail hears or sees takes on a creative imprint. Yes, having to slaughter the arsonists when they fought back was gruesome—but the way one of them dove to defend a man he hated, putting aside his love of his own life in favor of a man he considered more worthy to live despite his own loathing, is beautiful. Not all beauty resides solely in sea life and stars.
Despite her naturally pleasant nature, her somewhat impatient tendencies can make her short. When they are at their worst she is curt, dismissive, argumentative and harsh. Due to her high expectations of both herself and of others, strains of these traits thread through her average demeanor anyway, but it is only when she is at her most strained that they come before her desire to give others reason to smile. Others have often remarked upon the sharp twist between what they see as two separate demeanors, but Fasail is loathe to explain herself even when she has the explanation, and said others are nearly always left wanting of her answer. Fasail would prefer for others to see her as cold before they see her as weak, and that is what she fears above all else. For all of her disregard of others’ opinions—of her clothes, of her personality—she cannot abide the thought that they think she is vulnerable. She will exhaust herself before asking for most kinds of help.
One of the precious few exceptions is when it comes to magic. Fasail fears her magic for what it did to her sight, causing her colorblindness, and her and others’ subsequent failures to fix it. She will attempt all other means to solve a problem herself before coming to the solution of magic, and then she will ask another to form the spell before she ever tries herself. Many things that others do by magic she continually does by hand. She’s afraid of harming herself even further, or harming someone else.
--->Likes:
Drawing, fighting, strenuous exercise, physical exhaustion, going on trips to new places
--->Dislikes:
Down time, her own anxiety, her sight, her magic
--->Strengths:
Endurance, persistence, hiding her fears
--->Weakness:
Letting her fears turn into poison, getting anxious when bored
Family:
Ritiala and Severon, both still in Osilon.
History: Fasail was born in Ilea Feon, an only child, and grew up among the other elves, but also near humans, dwarves and even a few urgals of the region. She adored the diversity the variation of races allowed to her development of knowledge and her opinions regarding the world. Urgal companions taught her how to wrestle with a variety of people or beasts from a young age; dwarves taught her how to read the land and concentrate or simplify all of its abstract details; humans taught her swift efficiency and an appreciation of broad scenes while she was caught up in the minutiae; her own elves taught her a love of her own people and ways while maintaining love for others. As a small child, Fasail was incredibly happy with her life.
But then her friends began to die off. Before she was even finished with her schooling they were sickening, weakening, turning frail and translucent, their bones and veins pressing against and through thin skin until the skin no longer held them all together, and Fasail had to quickly learn that childhood funerals were going to become a regular part of her life. She had hated how many of her friends matured past where she could at her stage in her own life, and how some of them left her behind and lonely, even though she had understood why they did it. She could still enjoy them from afar. But when she watched them fall one after the other like seasonal flowers she began to hate that she had ever made such diverse friends, and soon after, stopped trying.
Fasail had always been artistic, more so than the other elves—often lauded for their attraction and attention to beauty—so when the list went around asking after those who wanted to train to try to convince the hidden egg to hatch for them, Fasail hardly spared a moment to ignore it. She wasn’t interested in spending more time in lessons—although admittedly she did adore learning—she just loved drawing more. Fasail spent over a decade drawing and occasionally painting such scenes and creatures and moments that looked as though the flesh in her canvas would yield if you stroked it. She took a particular interest in oceanic themes, and one of her favorite subjects to depict remains the integration of oceanic matter into everyday life: A man washing dishes in a seashell sink bordered by shelf coral, a child with anemones growing from her shoulders in waves, a howling woman with octopus tentacles writhing about her head. However, despite her talent and despite the support she garnered from and for it, Fasail still wasn’t happy.
She had always been capable of sitting utterly still, for hours on end, unerringly focused on her artwork, entirely encapsulated by it, untouched by anything but the charcoal on her fingers and rubbed into paper. But outside that world, in all moments when she was not thus absorbed, her bones burned as though they would come through her skin. Her muscles twitched with a restless anxiety or other irritant. She fidgeted as though unable to control the spasms, and even her mind she couldn’t keep properly maintained. Her magic began to suffer for it, and while doing a spell meant to increase her ability to see minute, miniscule detail unavailable even through a magnifying glass, she accidentally destroyed her ability to perceive color. Some days she’s worrying that her sight is deteriorating further, not that she will ever admit that.
Fasail very nearly abandoned her artwork entirely. Others tried to assist her in regaining the other half of her sight, but after the first several failed attempts, she developed the fear that if they continued to try her sight would be destroyed fully and forever, and forbade them from trying further. Her bones felt nearly blackened by the urgency she felt to move, so she approached the scholars, and requested admittance. They reviewed her abnormal case and her break in schooling, and allowed her entrance.
Being nearly twenty years older than all of her other classmates was not as alienating as others may have expected. Twenty years was not so long in the lifetime of an elf. She was able to make suitable companions among her classmates with ease. Her studies occupied her mind and the training, while not always exhausting enough for her liking, occupied the tremors she sometimes developed from an overburden of energy. The extensive schooling passed, and Fasail classmates approached the only egg remained silent and frozen. Fasail allowed the others to approach the egg first--they all jockeyed for the first positions--and she stood back gladly.
But when Aroure hatched for her, the waiting did not seem so terrible. Others told her that her dragon was a pale lilac in color, some sort of lavender, leaning toward red as opposed to blue. It sounded like such a lovely, otherworldly color that Fasail nearly cried, almost wishing Aroure had been some duller, dimmer hue, such as your average blue or green, but she comforted herself knowing that others could enjoy what she could not.
Other Riding pairs may have complained of the ‘grunt work’ that they were first delegated to, but Fasail loved it for its continuous activity, and Aroure as well for the peace that came from genuine labor. Down time was a far harder struggle for Fasail than chasing bandits, plowing vast fields, or the endless combat training, and through their bond it became a task as well. When the time came to a more narrow occupation, they decided to take on leadership of the scouting parties they secretly headed. The harder it was to find or contain their enemies, the better. Aroure did her best to alleviate what Fasail called her ‘burning’, but when neither of them understood its nature they could hardly fight it. In truth, Fasail is angry, furious, with the world for how it has evolved. Why allow sentient races to mix and befriend one another when they will only be torn apart later on? Why allow such a world to exist, and then even integrated communities! Just so that friends may grow deeper into one another, and have even more vital pieces of themselves ripped out when one half dies? It is utterly pointless, and in a world that has evolved through the efficient, individual purposes of each of its inhabitants, why would such pain exist?
Anything extra: Fasail will soon go blind entirely.
* * *
Dragon Bio
Name:
Aroure
Side: Varden
Birthplace:
Was his/her egg in the wild or with the empire/varden:
If Dragon Rider, how did the rider find the egg?: (stolen, given, found in wild?)
Age:
34
Gender:
Female
Eyes:
Red
Scale Color:
Pale lavender, with red undertones
Appearance: Aroure is nearly ninety feet long from nose to tail. Her lavender scales are darker along her back and around her spinal spikes, and the scales of her underbelly are a pale red-violet, glittering in muted light but not in bright or dim. Her scales are rough from constant use but sharp from constant attention. She likes to lick them to sharpness in idle time, of which she is far less frightened than Fasail. Some are unnerved by her crimson eyes but they serve her purposes. She's missing a spike two-thirds of the way down her tail from the same skirmish that gave Fasail the scar on the right side of her neck.
Personality: Complementary to Fasail's need to be in constant motion, Aroure finds contentment doing virtually anything, and her bad moods are rarer than creatures who are large enough to cause her harm. She finds amusement and gladness in everything from discovering that nothing was left in her teeth after a meal to watching Fasail come down from a red-faced rant when her 'burning' gets too deep. She's more likely to lay silently and pleasantly watch while Fasail voices both of their opinions more eloquently than she feels she can than to interject her own thoughts. Neither she nor Fasail are particularly chatty, but Aroure is still less so. She is extremely defensive of her Rider, but knows that Fasail prefers to fight her own battles, and only intervenes when she's feeling particularly offended or she thinks Fasail may need her help. She isn't above pinning down or kidnapping her Rider.
--->Likes:
Observing, taking private amusement at said amusements and sharing them with Fasail or others she believes will appreciate it, lounging in the sun, diving in deep water
--->Dislikes:
Fasail picking fights, those who want her to be more of an extrovert, Fasail being as private as she is
--->Strengths:
Strong sense of right and wrong, inner peace, not taking things personally
--->Weakness:
Coming across as shy, micromanaging the affairs of those she loves, overthinking things
