Character type: Dragonrider
Rank: Weyrling
Age: 25
Gender: Female
Sexual Preference: Bisexual


Back in old Terran times the word used to describe Deccia would be Amazonian. She's tall for a woman, and not that stretched, slender tall either. No this is a woman, tall, strong and with some good meat on her bones. She's not ugly, not by any stretch of the imagination, but neither is she going to mince around, painting her eyes or primping her skin. She has smooth light gold skin, tanned from a lifetime in the sun, strong facial features, a full, expressive mouth and a pair of sharp blue eyes. Her hair is fair, often tied back off her face and bleached by the bright sun of her island home.


Deccia has always been one to rough it with the boys. She may be female, but it would be a foolish mistake to assume that she is anything but a fighter, one who could likely kick your arse if you looked at her wrong. She takes pride in this, in being physically fit, being strong, independent and tough, and so trains herself strictly. Practice makes perfect unless you practice imperfectly, is her saying, and to her that means that you need to practice again and again, but it's no good just going through the motions. Do it sloppily, or half arsedly and you might as well not do it at all for all the good it will do you. So needless to say, she's pretty good at fighting, and all those years toughing it out in the Guards with the lads has made her hard as nails.

That's not to say that she doesn't know how to have fun, oh no. Deccia is wicked, playful and cheeky, and she likes nothing better than tearing down overinflated egos and self important delusions. She's the type of woman to challenge someone to a drinking contest and to stick to it, or to tease someone knowing it would ruffle their feathers. She's not malicious, and nor is she trying to be bitchy…she just tells it how it is,…or rather how she sees it is. And she's not going to mince words if you're being a fucking idiot.

She's grown up training with the guards, and it's hard to leave the guards without a sense of duty and honour. As such Deccia is passionately loyal to Ista, to her home, to the home of her family and friends. She would do anything required of her to protect it, anything at all, so she grates against the need for Outsiders, especially ranking outsiders. Blues and greens…they can help fill up the ranks, but leaders get uppity and try to change things to suit them. In Deccia's eyes Ista is perfect, and doesn't need changing at all.

Deccia can be quite maternal, in her rough, abrasive, crude and rude way. She likes helping youngsters out and guiding them, and some of them appreciate her bluntness and her filthy language too. She's used to being a pillar of strength, unfaltering and unfailing. She would do almost anything to make sure she never loses that image…as its something she prides.


Birthplace: Ista Weyr, 8.427.10.10

Deccia was the only child born of the brief union of bluerider D'vien and greenrider Taccia, but she has a number of half siblings on either side. She grew up in the creche, always a bit different from the other girls. She was always quite a bit larger than the others, and also she enjoyed scrapping and tangling with the lads, something most of the other girls avoided. As such she grew up tough and headstrong, confident in her ability to kick arse and determined to one day be a rider like her parents, protecting Pern like her bloodline dictated.

So when she reached 12 years of age she left the creche and immediately took up her weyrborn right to Stand in Candidacy and a turn later selected to train as a Guard as her chosen craft in between the clutches. Some might have thought she would flake out of the highly physical profession, but she did not, and held her own, even against her half brother as he joined her in the guard ranks.

Turns passed, 10 of them, a whole decade, and still Deccia did not Impress. Her half brother did, Impressing a brown in the last clutch before Thread started falling, and then…and then thread started falling. Deccia had never felt more impotent and helpless as she did watching riders and dragons tumbling out of the skies to the weyrbowl, screaming for healing, that terrible First Fall. They lost so many and the young guard rankled against the fact that she couldn't help.

She was 23 turns old, and it was her final chance to Stand, her final chance to Impress, and Deccia thought for sure she would be left, especially when most of the hatching passed by and no dragon even came near her. Then Thiprith came and suddenly Deccia has everything she wanted, a dragon, a purpose, an enemy to fight, and a chance to fight for her home.

And she is determined never to feel so helpless ever again.



Father: D'vien, rider of blue Zibith
Mother: Taccia, rider of green Puccith

Half-brother: Z'davien, rider of brown Kartoth
Almost-half-brother: Zaravay, candidate


Jossri, Rider of Green Kolth, Professional Hero and Awesomest LadyBro.
G'dan, Rider of Green Wuffryth, Former Guard Bro
L'han, Rider of Bronze Orowenth, Training Bro
Arlafinne, Rider of Blue Helvonth, Training LadyBro

Deccia's Dragon: Green Thiprith

Dragon Name: Thiprith
Colour: Green
Age: <1
Weyr of Origin: Ista


Some dragons can wear a mottled hide well. Thiprith… doesn't really wear anything well. There's nothing subtle about her coloring at all. It's as if her hide doesn't really know what shade of green it's supposed to be – there's a big patch of lime green here on the front left of her chest and wrapping around her shoulder, but then there's a small light green patch right beside it, and then there's grass green on the other side, and so on and so forth all over her body. There isn't a huge variation in shade between all these patches – you may be able to pick out two dozen different shades of green in there, but none of them are extremely light or extremely dark – but there doesn't appear to be any rhyme or reason to them, either. They're all different sizes and shapes, as if she was slapped together haphazardly, like a beginner's attempt at a patchwork quilt. The only thing that looks even remotely orderly on her are the dark green half-circles just beneath each eye, but even those seem almost offensive for interrupting the disorderliness with their perfection. She's a leggy green, tall and thin and a bit bony, with a sharp-featured face and just a hint of a dewlap beneath her chin.


Thiprith is something of an old soul. She'll hatch into the world like someone who's already been around the block a time or ten, with none of the childlike wonderment of many of her peers – nothing is really impressive to her, and it will take a lot to shake her out of her jaded boredom. She doesn't put much stock in tradition, and “because this is the way we've always done it” or “because I said so” are not adequate reasons for something in her bored eyes. If that holder is yelling at her rider, why can't she just spit some flame at him, just to shut him up? If her rider thinks the wingleader is talking too much, why not just say so? Thiprith certainly doesn't have any brain-to-mouth filter, and she doesn't understand why anyone else would, either. Secrets are stupid, tact is even stupider – it's just another way of lying, anyway. She'll say whatever she feels like, and honestly doesn't care if she hurts someone's feelings. Well, it's not her fault that they're so sensitive. She's not sensitive at all. She can weather the harshest lecture with nothing more than a sigh and a bored expression, and there hasn't been a word invented yet that she'll take actual offense to. Words are words, and they're either lies, which don't mean anything to her, or the truth, which is… well, the truth, so why get all worked up about it?

That unflappability may be her greatest asset in 'Fall. She'll take herself into the skies with the attitude that she's already done it a thousand times, even when it's only her first or second time, and even when Thread and the weather surprise her, she'll rarely actually react like someone who's been surprised. She's a solid, steady green… when she decides she feels like following orders, that is. Her self-confidence and tendency to be critical of her superiors will occasionally lead her to question their judgment – or, more accurately, just ignore it completely and do what she wants to do, instead. She'll have a million reasons why the leader in question is an idiot (even when he most certainly is not), but it really usually just comes down to Thiprith wanting to do what she wants to do. She values her freedom highly, and almost pities the gold dragons, who are practically chained to the Hatching Sands for so long. Her rider may have to struggle with getting Thiprith to go where she's supposed to be if she doesn't feel like being there. A nap may be more attractive to her than drills, for instance, or sometimes she'll be stubborn just to prove a point – the point being, “you're not the boss a' me!”

She doesn't think much of manners, either. Why be fancy? She's rude and crude about everything, from her casual posture to her sloppy eating to her loose language. If she Impresses to someone who knows a few good curse words, you can be sure she'll pick them right up and use them at every opportunity. She won't be the slightest bit nervous about, or secretive about, mating, either – in fact, mating flights may be the only thing she's outwardly enthusiastic about, and she'll tell you outright that it's not even really the sex that she likes. She just enjoys knowing she's leading a bunch of hopeless morons around by their dicks.

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