Journeyman Weaver; Dragon CandidateAge-Out Date:
Nave is a sweet man. Kind, considerate and affectionate, he tends to put others first. He isn’t a worrier, but will take his time to think over a situation and weigh the pros and cons. That said, he is still wildly adventurous and it takes a great deal for him to turn down the chance to try something new and potentially exciting.
He is the sort to stop everything to help someone with a skinned knee or to show up unannounced at a friends’ weyr to help them through a tough time. He’s a giver, though because of this he oftentimes forgets to care for himself. He’ll encourage everyone else to eat, only to let his food go cold on his plate.
He likes being useful, likes having purpose. It takes next to nothing for him to voice his opinion.
He thrives around people, thrives when involved and doing something he feels is useful. He wears his emotions on his sleeves, most of the time, though most often they are good ones. He is encouraging, go-get-um and generally a very active individual. He puts others first and has absolutely no hesitation when it comes to adventure.
He craves approval and acceptance and will go above and beyond to receive praise. Appearance:
Nave is tall and thin as a whip. Perpetually pale, he has long blonde hair that is almost white if he doesn’t get enough sun. His eyes are a pale blue. He’s fairly well muscled from a life at the Weyr, but comes across as more sinewy than bulky. He seems incapable of putting on weight. When he does get out in the sun, he burns. Quickly.
His fingers and most of his hands seem perpetually dyed brown (or is it green? Blue? Maybe purple… It’s really hard to say.) His hands are rough and calloused. He tends to keep his hair loose or in a braid, as it hangs nearly to his waist.
His left leg is missing from the knee down. He walks with crutches, currently.Family:
Dye - Blue Firelizard
History:Abuse rape and other Bad Things mentioned. Worst hidden under a spoiler.
|Determined, that's what ??? is. He's also quite the ambitious little feller, make no mistake. He might not be as big as some of his siblings, but that rarely, if ever, stops him. He likes to be included in things--i.e. everything. He is likely to have just as much dye on him as Navenax does. In his effort to help His, he sometimes has the unfortunate habit of making things worse. He tends to be a bit clumsy, and not always aware of the space he occupies. In his determination to be better, he becomes rather easily frustrated. While not given to full-blown temper tantrums like his iron brother, he has been known to mope on occasion. He just wants to be seen as worthy. He values the work that His does, and hopes that someday he can be just as important. In truth, Navenax is his role model, and so the blue will aspire to be just like him.|
Inspiration: Dorumon - Digimon
Nav was born in High Reaches Hold to a pair of holder parents as the third in a series of seven children total. He very quickly learned that it was best to keep one’s head down and work hard.
Their father was generous with his fist and their mother wasn’t much better. They fought with one another often, their making up usually resulting in another child which brought about more arguments. It was a vicious cycle that Navenax seemed trapped in.
His eldest brother took off as soon as he was able, deadset on being a healer. His sister followed suit, but went into tanning. Navenax quickly learned that the brunt of his parent’s attentions were directed at whomever was oldest and there.
Nave poured affection on his younger siblings, eager to take the brunt of his parent’s punishments if it meant they were kept safe. But he couldn’t do it forever, and when the opportunity presented itself, headed off to Southern Boll and weavercraft as soon as he was of age.
His apprenticeship was met with it’s own challenges, beyond the usual struggles of taking up a new craft. He had to learn how to trust and how to make friends. He took to it like a fish to water. He made friends and blossomed, proving to be quite the social butterfly. He soon had his small group of friends among the apprentices, helping one another and working together when allowed. Nav was happy, which he hadn’t really realized he wasn’t until he was. He ate up everything he could, being especially fond of learning the dyes and how they were made. While he had some skill at the loom, it was dyeing that proved to be where his skill lay.
Life happened around him, of course. Not that Nav noticed. Weyrs seemed so far away and he was determined to succeed. Different colours hatched, Doomfall happened and Nav was aware
of these things, but they affected him very little (in his opinion. He lost no one during the doomfall, but that made it no less terrifying.) He tends to live in the moment, so these things were acknowledged then brushed aside so he could focus on work and relationships.
As Nav grew older, an older apprentice befriended him, and “helped” him along. The older boy took him under his wing and, for the first time in Nav’s life, made him feel wanted. Their relationship grew and was eventually sexual, despite Nav’s reservations. But it brought praise afterwards and Nav thrived on praise. When the older boy walked the tables, he celebrated by drinking too much and found Nav studying late at night. He left Nav there afterwards, confused and alone.
Nav ceased speaking to his ‘friend’ and threw himself into his work, thriving on the crafter’s praise. He lived for their praise. He grew quieter, but didn’t speak of the incident and was eventually brought back to his usual cheerfulness by a present and loving circle of friends. He avoided other relationships, but continued to nurture his group of friends, encouraging them and being encouraged by them and, eventually, walking the tables at twenty.
He was sent to Western, which surprised him, but pleased him. It was exciting and different! He was, for the first time, proud of himself. Upon arrival, he was approached by a dragon that claimed he'd be a good candidate, which was news to Nav!Adoption Preference:
Bronze Shekith - #9f5e2a]
On the surface, Shekith seems like a fairly quiet dragon who doesn’t mingle easily. This might lead the casual observer to conclude that he’s shy, but conversation will prove the observer incorrect. Arrogant and rather haughty, Shekith believes that he’s one of the finest dragons to ever grace dragonkind, and he can’t grace just anyone with his exceedingly fine company. Luckily, he at least has enough tact to not tell everyone to their face that they’re not worthy. He’d rather demonstrate by example how a proper dragon acts and how well they should perform.
However, he has a temper and is something of a sore loser. Outdo him and rub it in his face, shame him publically, and he can flare up and be quite vicious. He will bite back - potentially literally - or at least take out his frustrations on an inanimate object somewhere. Teaching him how to bottle this up in public so he can safely vent his anger in private will be a critically important endeavor, and his rider will need to exercise their own tact around him to help soothe him down and balance out the extremes of Shekith’s nature. Approached this way, he’s far easier to get along with and may even express appreciation.
Shekith loves hunting for his meals rather than having them provided already-dead or in a fenced-in area. It takes all of the joy out of it when you don’t get to drop out of the sky swiftly like death from above. Whether his prospective meal is dead or not, he likes to impale things on his claws to finish them off, a habit that may give him a name for being more sinister than he really is.
Shekith is sturdily built, with a broader chest and thick neck, his limbs shorter and stocky. Mainly muscular, his tailtips are downright pudgy, although it is wiser not to say so. His hide his mostly the color of caramel, with highlights that are almost a buttery yellow. The backs of his wings and the lagging edge of the wingsails darken to brown, and he has a dark brown 'mask' that covers his eyes and his muzzle, wrapping around to the back of his head.
N'ax is good-natured and relatively level-headed, both of which are essential for balancing out Shekith's temper. N'ax is kind and accepting; Shekith is not. But Shekith will be unlikely to allow N'ax to neglect himself in favor of others - he might never admit it, but he values N'ax far too much to let him languish.
The bronze condescended to look down at the burgundy, disdainful. Rumbling quietly in his throat, he swept a forefoot out in a hard cuff that knocked the burgundy arse over teakettle. He didn't have any time for this nonsense. He had something to do.
Getting up, he cut a line straight through the candidates, looking neither left nor right. Back he went, swerving around Rivath and Zansk, until he reached the healer camp. Anyone who tried to check him got the same curt order: Move.
Rearing up and placing his forefeet on one of the tables for the injured, he nudged the cheek of the young man on it until he gained his attention, by hook or by crook. N'ax. I am here. Your Shekith. And no one may interfere, or I will teach them better.