Character type: Weyrling
Rank: Basketcase
Age: 19
Gender: Male
Sexual Preference: Hetero…ish


Leyopar is a tall, thin lad, with narrow shoulders and long limbs. He’s in the process of filling out into his adult frame — still a bit bony, but that should even out within a couple of turns, though he’ll likely always be a skinny guy. He definitely isn’t any sort of athlete, and doesn’t have much in the way of visible, toned musculature. Nope, he’s just an average guy who’s spent his life doing average-guy things, never really taking on much in the way of exercise beyond what his work provides him, but he’s as healthy as any average young man his age.

He’s not pale, but he is relatively fair-skinned for an Istan, with dark brown freckles across his nose and cheekbones, and even more dotting up his arms. He keeps his black hair very short, no more than an inch, just for convenience sake, and his bright brown eyes are framed by long lashes. He keeps his clothes very neat, and never seems to leave any buttons unbuttoned or ties untied if he can help it. He’s also aware that he looks particularly good in dark, bold colors like deep reds and blues, and though he doesn’t often have a choice in what hand-me-downs he gets, he certainly tries to go for those colors in his gatherwear.


Leyopar is very traditional — for a weyrboy, anyway. He likes the routine, the comfortable, the familiar. He doesn’t like change, doesn’t deal well with upheavals in his life, and it takes him a long time to come to terms with a new status quo, or even just new people in his life. He’s still not entirely settled from the upheaval of the first ‘Fall even though it’s been nearly three turns now, for instance, and has hung stubbornly onto his initial resentment of faces that replaced the ones he knew. He has always been a bit of a worrier, and facing that sort of trauma certainly didn’t help; he’s one of those who definitely had an obvious mark left on him by the losses even though he wasn’t in the air himself, and if anything he has developed into an even more precise person, a planner, someone who wants to make certain that every single eventually has been prepared for and that, above all, risks aren’t taken unnecessarily. He can’t lose anyone else unexpectedly. He isn’t the type to overtly show attachment, and tends to be a bit awkward with displays of affection or even just talking about such things, but his need to hang on to people is obvious in the way he frets, nudges, and occasionally smothers them with well-intended but tiresome henpecking. He studies a lot, thinks a lot, and often comes across as a bit of a know-it all because he’s always trying to guide people, correct them, and, admittedly, enjoys showing off what he knows. What else has he ever had, after all? He doesn’t win through charisma or particularly striking good looks, and part of him is desperate to demonstrate his worth.

He can get emotional and is easily flustered, and doesn’t deal with either state very well. Losing control makes him feel stupid and, well, childish and out of control — betrayed by his own mind and body — but that certainly doesn’t stop it from happening. He’s not a very physical person, but he does let loose with a barrage of angry words when he’s upset. No matter how much he tries to bite his tongue and keep his head down, it doesn’t always work.

Leyopar is also very uncomfortable with the idea of the intimacy required of a dragon bond. His thoughts are his own, his headspace is his own, and he can’t stand the idea of losing control of that to something else. Ever since he was a child, the idea made him nervous and sometimes even a little sick inside, and that’s a large part of the reason he chose a craft instead of following most of his fellows into candidacy. But he’s also a dutiful boy, proud of the sacrifices his friends and family have made, and he hates the thought that there are Outsiders here Impressing, growing up to claim a legacy that isn’t theirs by rights. Sure they’re probably decent people, and their help was appreciated, but these candidates Impressing dragons on Istan Sands? No! They don’t have any connection to this place, or the people who came before, and especially not to those who were lost — and how can you usurp that, pretend to be part of something else, try to blend in seamlessly among those with a deep, blood connection to what they’re fighting for?

He’s tired of feeling like a coward, like he only became a crafter because he was too afraid to do what he was born to do. So he’s facing his fears — if it gets one more Istan fighting for Ista, then he thinks it’s his duty to at least try.

…But he’s secretly strongly hoping — and expecting — that he’ll be left Standing, and can then retire himself back to crafting in peace, feeling as if he at least gave it a proper go.


Birthdate: 444.04.04
Birthplace: Ista Weyr

Leyopar was born at Ista Weyr, the child of a greenrider and a laundress. He never really knew his father well — he was just a large, distant figure, pleasant enough whenever they came together, but there was never any real sense of connection there, and then like so many others the man died in the early days of the Pass and the point was moot. Leyo was always close to his mother, though, and felt like a helper to her, responsible for keeping on eye on his younger half-sibs when they were all in the creche or in lessons while mom did her job.

Unlike most of his siblings, though, Leyopar never felt any particular attraction to dragons. Of course he respected them, he wasn’t afraid of them, but he didn’t relish the thought of actually sharing his mind with one, or rising to meet the Thread that everyone said was soon to fall. It all sounded horrific, a terrible invasion of privacy just to fly up to his probable death, and he feared he wasn’t really cut out for the work, that he’d make an awful mistake and take someone out with him, and a million other awful scenarios that he never could quite shake.

When asked, of course, he just said he wasn’t interested in having a dragon in his head, and felt he could better serve the Weyr in other ways, just like his mother did. When the time came for him to choose, and his friends mostly headed for the candidate barracks, Leyopar instead chose the herders, who took him on as an apprentice. He had no special love of the beasts, but he had a steady hand, a studious mind, and a dutiful spirit that made him a solid, reliable apprentice, and he took satisfaction in knowing that he was performing a needed service, taking care of the livestock that the Weyr so depended upon.

Most of his siblings, caught up in the patriotic fervor of the coming Pass, opted for the candidate barracks. His younger brother Parvel Impressed his first time standing, to a fine green, and Leyopar tried not to fret too much about it. It was in his blood to ride a dragon, after all, and he had always been so much more vigorous and gung-ho than Leyopar had ever been.

When Thread returned, though, many perfectly good riders didn’t survive the first sevenday. L’yorik and P’val were among those who never came home — just two drops in a sea of familiar faces that Leyopar would never see again, and Leyo was badly shaken by the losses. Everyone was, of course, but he took it more poorly than some, internalizing it all, torn between relief that his instincts had been correct so that he hadn’t been among the riders who flew those days, and guilt because he should have been, because his presence might have saved someone else.

He knows, logically, that none of those thoughts make any sense, but still they’re there, and he has slowly built up his resolve around this messy, gooey center of conflicting feelings. Something has been building in him alongside the resentment of the Outsiders, particularly those taking up residence in the candidate barracks like they’re native, like they can get in somehow and pretend they belong, and when so many of them Impressed in Tameketh and Zogeth’s clutch, Leyopar finally made up his mind… outwardly, anyway. He talked it over with his master, who agreed to let him have a try at the eggs, and take him back in if he returned to the craft within six months.

Leyopar doesn’t expect to Impress, isn’t entirely sure he wants to, but deep-down hopes that at least trying will satisfy his guilty, angry conscience.



Father: L’yorik, rider of green Ebrith
Mother: Pardra, laundress

P’val, rider of green Cherith
Several other half-siblings, plz adopt k thnx


Dragon Name: Wenklith
Color: Blue
Age: Babykins
Weyrling Class: Dreamchasers


Wenklith is a long, slender, and sleek blue from head to tail tip, able to fly and whip through the air with an agility that will be unmatched in other dragons his size. He's a dragon built for quick manoeuvres and short, rapid bursts of flame, and with a bright azure blue hide like his his acts of swiftness aren't going to go unnoticed. When on the ground, however, his graceful gait turns into a bow-legged waddle. It may earn him a place as the butt of some jokes, but he's no less dexterous. Both of his unusually slender headknobs curve outward from his head like an odd set of horns.


Straight out of his egg Wenklith will have an affinity for keeping things in their particular order. Everything has a place that it's meant to be, a square peg for a square hole, and preserving this natural order is what makes him feel the most comfortable. Breaking or bending rules, thinking outside of box, and taking risks are things that Wenklith not only hates but completely avoids; the very idea of doing something reckless and dangerous makes him incredibly anxious. Everyone around him will be strongly encouraged to follow the rules as they're laid out, especially his rider — but if anyone should actually bend the rules, they can trust that Wenklith won't tattle on them. Instead, he'll plod along behind them, feeling that it's his duty to make sure things are set back in the correct motion. Eventually everything will work itself out.

As a Threadfighter he'll be meticulous in his execution. Though his methods will seem random they will be flawless in action, as he will have it no other way. His mind is an incredibly analytical one, as much as it can be for a dragon. Overthinking things is second nature to him, and his rider will have to be patient with him as he grows and learns efficiency without sacrificing speed.

Curiously he will have a penchant for collecting gadgets and gizmos that pique his interest. This can be anything from simple silverware to tools which his rider must use. Fortunately, his habit of collecting things for “study” will fade out as he grows and realizes that his enormous size is incapable of borrowing — and it is always /borrowing/, because stealing is /wrong/, and he would /never/!

He'll always have an unusual curiosity toward the animal life on Pern. From herdbeasts to grubs, fish to VTOLs, Wenklith will take it upon himself to carefully study and document every one that he sees, and with his poor memory it's guaranteed that he'll never run out of things to learn about. His rider will be encouraged to keep pets of all kinds, be they firelizards or runners, and he'll always be distraught to hear that it's impossible to have a veritable museum of fauna in his weyr.


Title Date Characters Summary
Touchy Touchy ??? Candidates The candidates are allowed to touch the eggs. Leyopar gets harassed by Birsalen, and chats with Royakhus.
Hatching 3: I Want It More Than I Can Say 03.03 Many Leyopar Impresses blue Wenklith, and panics.
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