Character type: Candidate
Rank: DeadSlutDaughter
Age: 19
Gender: Female
Sexual Preference: Confused/Boycrazed


Bertaula has the kind of appearance that makes nagging Aunties want to harp over her, hovering and clucking like mother hens. There is always, always a myriad of things wrong with her. She’s too skinny and too bony. The Aunties like to pile extra food on her plate, much to her embarrassment and K’vrett’s jealousy. But no matter how much she eats her pubescent metabolism seems to make short work of it, leaving her lanky and coltish well into her teens.

Despite been born and raised at the island weyr, she’s blatantly, painfully Northern, an honest-to-goodness redhead with big hazel green eyes and a pale peach and cream complexion. These days her skin is as much freckled as not (the closest she’ll ever get to Fashionably Tan) but she’ll always be hopelessly ginger. Her hair is a coppery sort of red and would be curly if it weren’t so long. To combat her boyish figure, and after several scarring childhood incidents (both from her peers and from the grade-A parenting) where she was mistaken for her brother, she’s taken to growing out her hair. It now reaches her lower back in a jumbled mass of red.

Nothing she wears fits well. With such a body one might think of her as a tailor’s perfect client; never will anyone use so little cloth for anything. But without the voluptuous curves of other women, she’s just too bony to hold anything up properly. For that reason, she tends to stray away from feminine styles of dress, convinced that nothing like a good Gather dress would do well on her. Her choices are usually baggy and boyish and blah.


One would think that a girl of Bertaula’s appearance would prefer to stay out of sight, but on the contrary: this is a spunky little upstart who doesn’t mind being out in the crowd and having a good time. There’s nothing sickly about her, so she doesn’t feel the need to act down or put-upon, neither wanting attention nor searching for pity from anyone. Really, the worst thing that anyone can do to her is pity her — or maybe insist that she eat a good, healthy meal. She got enough of that hawkish attention from her mom while she was growing up and she’s not going to take it from anyone else at the Weyr. Besides, contrary to popular belief, she loves food and eats a great deal of it — she might be Pern’s first and only foodie. The weyr dining hall has especially heightened her interest in food, particularly the variety of the fully staffed kitchens compared to her mother’s tried-and-true cooking. If there’s something spicy and exotic to be had, she’ll be first in line to try it.

Bertaula struggles with her identity. Born and raised in Ista, her looks are decidedly Northern, as is her decidedly Northern family. She was raised in a strict Holdborn household, despite their location deep in the Caverns of Ista Weyr. Growing up she was constantly on the outside looking in, wishing desperately to be like the other weybrats, tanned and healthy and free. Of course, kids can be cruel and with her redhair and freckles she was a prime target for bullying. She’s spent most of her adolescence chasing after them, hoping to be allowed into whatever secret club they had. Bertaula has gained a few friends since Candidacy, and the kids have gotten a little nicer, but that hasn’t fixed the chip on her shoulder.

That strictness of her holdborn upbringing and traditional parents probably wasn’t the best fit for a child who already felt like a fish out of water (“IT’S AN ISTAN SAYING, MA!”). Instead of providing her with a solid grounding in who she is and where she’s come from, it’s torn her even more. The pressure to conform to her parents standards and has brought out the worst in this teenager: rebellion. Bertaula is impulsive; if she gets it in her mind to do something she does it, right here, right now, screw the rules and obligations. She learned long ago that if she does something straight off then she won’t have to hear her Mom tell her not to do it— and that's one lecture down. Vying with the weyrkids, and her numerous siblings, has made her stubbornly, tenaciously competitive. It’s also made her rather loud… as if somewhere along the way, between the weyrcreche and home in The Braughan Clan, she picked up the notion that you have to be Big and Noisy to get attention and respect, to get noticed.

On the subject of boys she finds herself confused and struggling for answers. Though there are some that would say she’s already entered womanhood, she doesn’t feel like she has a good enough footing in her life to live up to the title. Most of the time she’s caught up between being one of the boys and wanting one of the boys, trying her hardest to fit in with their usually rough and tumble lifestyle while at the same time wishing they would treat her like a lady. Considering how the people in the Weyr seem to live (to her), she feels like a ninny even fretting over the issue, since nobody seems to be interested in marriage. Least of all her.

Being outdoors is almost second nature to her; being stuck inside makes her feel suffocated. As a young girl she was prone to tomboyish behavior, climbing all over the place and getting herself dirty, much to her mother’s chagrin, and she doesn’t feel any less inclined to have that kind of fun. If there’s any soul who would be caught trying to climb the Weyr’s rim for the giggles, it would be Bertaula.

Common Knowledge

Her and K’vrett are like frenemies. Except K’vrett doesn’t know that


Birthdate: 8.438.5.12
Birthplace: Ista Weyr

Bertaula can distill many of her woes down to the fact that she was born a twin. She’s sure she’d be more robust, more womanly if she hadn’t shared a womb with a hoggy twin brother. (Who ISN’T older than her, whatever he might say). She’s sure that if she had arrived in the world alone her she would have gotten a nice name, not the ancestral hand-me-down that her surprised parents dredged up when she popped out on the heels of her brother. But no. No, she had a twin and so she could never have nice things.

Whatever Bertie’s feelings, the twins were born to Healer Braughan and his wife shortly after they were transferred to Ista Weyr. The seventh of the couple’s children, Bertie grew to resent being born with her own competition, sharing everything from the womb and boobs to clothes and attention. Everyone expected them to be so CLOSE as twins, so specially linked… so identically dressed… until Braughan put his foot down… it was a lot for a kid to deal with, and it didn’t help that what she wanted, more than anything, was to fit in.

The Isolationist Ista of the Interval was not the most welcoming place for northerners, and Bertie was clearly northern with her pale skin and red hair, clearly different, a different wasn’t a great thing to be as a child. More than anything she wanted to be One of the Weyrkids, who always seemed to have so much more freedom and fun. Compared to the creche marms and foster parents, her traditional holder household was stifling. It also didn’t help that Braughan and Sooty were adamant about raising their children properly and did their best to limit their contact with the looser, weyr-ways of doing things. (“How many of your friends know who their father is?” “You’re so lucky to be eating homecooked meals every night instead of in the dining hall like everyone else!”)

Her parents were so very Uncool.

Small wonder Bertie grew more and more restless, living in the weyr, but apart from it. The only way out was… Marriage. That was the route Bertie’s three older sisters took to get out from under the roof of their traditional parents. No daughter of theirs was going to become a craftswoman and labor. But… Marriage wasn’t very appealing to a girl of 12, especially not after she saw how some of her sisters ballooned up during pregnancy, which left… Candidacy.

She didn’t dream of dragons, of fighting thread. She dreamed of a bed of her own and a brand new suit of clothes, of being able to stay out till dawn and swim naked in the sea. It’d be nice to say that she carefully weighed the pros and cons of standing, that she stepped back and looked at how it’d affect her and her family and whether it was really what she wanted for her self—

In reality things were much simpler and a good deal dumber. When she was about 14, things just came to a head between her and her father. Some things were said that couldn’t be unsaid (stubbornness runs in the family) and Bertie stormed out (or was thrown out, depending on who you talk to) and presented herself at the candidate barracks that very night. Disowned, but free.

(“Good thing she was just the spare,” Braughan, Dad of the Year.)

Candidacy was good for her, in many ways. At first it was a bit hard being in among all the weyrborn, many of the same kids that teased her as a child, but a few turns of maturity helped. Ginger hair wasn’t so hilarious anymore and she managed to make friends. Weyrborn friends! The arrival of Foreign riders and their families also helped establish her as a Istan, or at least More-Istan-Than-Them. The distance also did wonders for her relationship with her twin, who she appreciated more now that he wasn’t all up in her face 24/7 and… since she was disowned and ignored by the rest of her family…

… However, his recent impression has shaken their relationship once again.



Father: Healer Braughan
Mother: MasterWife Sooty
Bucnar, Junior Journeyman Healer (+11)
Birka, wife of Tagilin, Ista Weyr (+10)
"Fussy", older sister, (+7)
Samma, older sister, (+6)
Broan, older brother (+3)
K'vrett, "Chip", twin brother, weyrling to blue Nezenth (0)
Ellou, healer's aide (-2)
Guts, Junior Apprentice Healer (-4)
Unnamed Romantic Sister (-7)
Beuzila, stupidface sister (-10)
"Dusty", baby who hides under the couch, (-12)








Dragon Name: Rekkith
Color: Green
Age: bb
Weyr of Origin: Ista
Weyrling Class: Date


Rekkith is a very thick dragon, the kind of bulk that will often be mistaken for fat. In size she easily rivals most blues (and jokingly, a few browns); never will anyone find her feminine or dainty. The worst of it are her hands, which are noticeably, disproportionately large. Because of them she walks with heavy, stomping steps in a motion best described as "lumbering", with seemingly no sense of where her limbs are, possessing all the grace of a lame herdbeast. She’ll grow into them as she ages, but in her youth she will always possess that strange, plodding gait. Her hide is a bright, almost neon green color, with a single strap of darker green running from her right shoulder diagonally across her chest.


From the moment she breaks her shell, Rekkith will be on a quest — especially when she catches word that greens are supposed to be this or that. For her the status quo is not something to just accept as face value, not when there is so much of the world out there she has yet to experience! Concepts like rank and the pecking order will constantly confuse her. She will frequently take issue with those who claim they are her superiors — not in a way that’s directly disrespectful, of course. Instead she’ll plot behind the scenes, scheming and dreaming her way into something bigger and better. If someone would just give her the opportunity to show what she's made of then they would see that she's not just a green; she is capable of so much more.

But she's not really capable of anything noteworthy or spectacular. She doesn't have the charisma to be a leader, she doesn’t have the usual speed of her color, nor does she have the kind of intelligence that lends itself to strategizing. Rekkith is for all intents and purposes nothing more than a wingmate, a Threadfighter. Discovering this will be a long and potentially painful process for her as she desperately tries to find a niche that suits her varying tastes. One day she may decide that she'd make a better watchwher; the next, she's Ista newest and greatest Harper. Inevitably she fails at most of her ludicrous ventures, leaving in her wake a trail of mayhem and destruction.

Truly the only thing she'll really excel at is destruction,a fact that she will bitterly rebel against. In the air this makes her a hell of a Threadfighter with a powerful, long flame and the stamina to last for hours. On the ground, she's more of a bull in a china shop. For someone with such an enormous and bulky body she seems to have no idea of how much space she really occupies, frequently knocking over furniture, smashing down trees, leaving noticeable cracks in walls, and so on. Luckily she can withstand a lot of these blows, meaning her rider won't need to visit the infirmary too too often.

More than anything, Rekkith yearns to be a beloved friend and companion. Her rider will provide a lot of that for her, but when it comes to others she hopes to become someone that they can call friend. Every insult, no matter how minor, will upset her to the point of tantrums. If they’re going to call her names then she’s going to live up to them!

When she finally learns to be content with her lot in life, she will find a lot of reward in doing her part for the Weyr. She'll learn to be more friendly and less hot-headed. Until then, it will be a constant uphill battle for her rider to remind her that she's not Ista's next Weyrleader.

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