Character type: Dragonrider
Rank: Weyrling
Age: 17
Gender: Male
Sexual Preference: Homosexual


Istan would have you believe Northerns are a washed out lot, that they’re blanched from head to heel from the ice water in their veins. Then there’s M’kadja. M’kadja and his gleaming gold curls, his vivid blue-green eyes. M’kadja, all lightly tanned by the Istan sun, a smooth veneer of bronze over fair skin.

He’s a real Ganymedes, athletic in a lithe sort of way, youthful and proud. Not exceptionally tall or overly muscled, but utterly comfortable in his own skin. He exhudes confidence and self satisfaction— and why not? He’s a dragonrider, the world is at his feet, and he’s beautiful.

It’s not just his face, the features that mix of angular and rounded seen in old statuary, it’s a matter of presentation. M’kadja is exceedingly well dressed. He wears Outfits, not clothes. If a button is left undone, a tie loose, it is by design rather than carelessness… Though a careless air may Indeed be the goal.


He’s bright, charismatic young man, in a flashy, vain sort of way— and he makes no attempt to hide it. There’s an honesty to his self absorption, to his tantrums and moods.

He’s entertaining, engaging, exhausting.

Weyr born and bred, M’kadja hasn’t had what you might call a hard life. He had food to eat and a place to sleep, he had a family, he had clothes, and yet it was hard. It was hard in all the ways that mattered, all the little, everyday ways that slowly wear and shape or break a man. Personally, socially, he had nothing as a child. At least, that was how it felt to him, a scribe’s son in a world gone mad for dragons; a portly, expressive boy fostered with stoical masons. He has long since repressed and forgotten a lot of his youth, but the lack and lonesomeness left its mark.

He will do everything within his power to avoid going back to those dark days.

And he has power now. Finally. He has his rank, his dragon, his looks — and he revels in it all. He takes great pride in how far he’s come, in being one of the dragonriding elite, in buying and owning all the little luxuries that had been unimaginable in his childhood. Yet, pleased as he is with his things and his self, he isn’t placated. In his youth, in his ambition, there is so much more to see and have and do— and M’kadja means to get it all.

Everything has a value and everyone has their price.


Birthdate: 4.25
Birthplace: High Reaches Weyr

Mikadja didn’t think much of his childhood. He remembers it as a time of ill-suited hand-me-downs; of sharing a bed with his two fosterbrothers— which made the Reachian winters warmer, but wetter. He remembers trying desperately to fit in with the rider crazy culture of the late Interval, and never really succeeding. The really cool kids back then were the children of established riders, the larger the dragon and older the lineage the better. Barring that, looking like you had the makings of a rider yourself was the next best thing, but Mikadja was a dumpy, awkward thing as a child and his father was an infirmary scribe, so he lost on both counts and was regulated to follower and tag along in the childish hierarchy of things.

He enjoyed his second decade better. Puberty hit like a runway ox-cart and his metabolism roared into gear. Paired with the rigors of candidacy, his puppy fat quickly melted away. He came to accept that he would never be a really strapping figure of man, but discovered there was something to being pretty as fuck.

Being categorized as ‘greenbait’ was an achievement in his eyes. For some boys it might have been galling to be seen as a shoo-in for the lowest rungs of riderhood, but for Mikadja, the fact that his peers could now picture him on a dragon at all was validation. He found a place among the other aspiring candidates, particularly the older ones who didn't remember his dumpy tagalong days and just saw him as a new prettyboy…

That was problematic in a whole new way. Mikadja’s body might have changed, but it took a while for his self esteem to catch up. It took time, and a few misadventures, but catch up it eventually did— and more.

Under the youthful pride and joy in his new circumstances, Mikadja has learned a cynical awareness of his appearance and the changes it has wrought for him. Now it’s his card to play, his coin to spend, and he knows the precise worth of it: the exact difference and change between how he is treated Now and how he was treated Then.

Half of this was his own discovery and revelation—
The other half was meeting Brownrider V’rignac.

V'rignac did not pretend that his interest in Mikadja was not primarily motivated by physical attraction. He was unapologetic, and pragmatic about it: “That's the way the world works, kid, and you got lucky and came out on top. Don't be ashamed to take advantage of the fact that you've got what people want! After all, isn't that what everybody else is doing?”

He unabashedly rewarded Mikadja's good looks, plying him with the special attention he had so lacked as a child, showering him with gifts. He appreciated Mikadja's body like it was a work of art, and Mikadja was educated along the way: V'rignac liked it when he walked this way, brushed his hair back that way, pouted his lips just-so and gave that perfect little tilt of his head. The boy was a quick learner, observant and eager and adaptive, which only delighted V'rignac further. There was a role the brownrider liked to play, and a role which he liked for his partners to play, and Mikadja fit that role like a glove and then some, well on his way to a mastery of the art by the time he had lived as V'rignac's weyrmate for even a turn.

V'rignac opened the world up to him. He took him all over the planet on his dragon and taught him about bargaining, buying and selling, determining the value of something and then how best to obtain it. He taught him how to observe, how to plan, how to plot and scheme if that's what it took. Mostly, he taught him how to get what he wanted with the heart of a predator – unashamed, unfettered by sentiment and concern for what others might think of him – and, perhaps most importantly, how to appreciate it, and enjoy a hedonistic lifestyle to the greatest degree. As V'rignac's partner, Mikadja grew lean and sly and just-this-side-of feral, a pet not quite tamed, spoiled by luxury yet well aware of his partner's desire to see him test his boundaries, to make him work for it, to use his assets to entice V'rignac into using his assets to get them both what they wanted in the end.

When the Pass came and devastated Ista sent for help, High Reaches was already less than fond of V'rignac and his increasingly lazy, self-centered ways. He was probably one of the first on the list to go, and he sold it to Mikadja like one might sell a vacation: “Think of all the sun you'll get! No more of having to beg me to take you off somewhere warm – you can just walk right down to the beach, strip off, and lay right down! You'll look so delicious there in the sunshine, your hair all sun-streaked like spun gold, your body tanned all bronze…!” He coaxed Mikadja into leaving home, the Weyr of his birth and of his family, to accompany him on this new adventure, where they might still have to contend with Thread, but at least they could laze about on the beach and let their cold-tired bones soak up the warmth!

Except, when they got there, Ista quickly proved to be less of a paradise than either of them had hoped for. Many of the Istans resented them, and V'rignac found that it was much harder to establish himself as a resourceful go-to man in a place where he was unfamiliar, untrusted, and unwanted. Stress and frustration built… and maybe that was the reason the brownrider jumped ship so quickly when he saw a beautiful Istan teen who hit all the right buttons in him. It was a change, a new boy for a new life, and V'rignac was absolutely cold-hearted enough to take back most of the pretty gifts he had given Mikadja when he threw his young lover out, leaving him to the not-so-tender mercies of the Istan candidate barracks.



Father: Malyosha
Mother: Awomb
Foster Mother: Gilga, Laundress
Foster Father: Balmar, Mason
Foster Brothers: Brallagar, Girgamar, Gargamel


V’rignac’s Money




V’rignac’s lovers


Dragon Name: Kojith
Color: Green
Age: Babu
Weyr of Origin: Ista
Weyrling Class: Date


Though small even for her color, Kojith is a scrappy little dragon. Even as an adult, her slightly over-large head and eyes combined with her rounded muzzle will make her look younger than she actually is, and she may still be mistaken for a half-grown weyrling by those outside of Ista Weyr who haven't learned to recognize her for who she is, or those who aren't familiar enough with dragon anatomy to recognize the very-much adult – if wiry – musculature sported by her small body and shortish limbs. There's a surprising amount of power packed into this tiny little package, and she'll be a master of astounding bursts of speed and maneuverability – but only in bursts. Otherwise, she's average, which she thinks is plenty considering that some might expect less from her because of her size. Her hide is a deep dark green, darkening to almost green-black on the tips of her neckridges, wingclaws, and wingtips.

It's unfortunate, perhaps, that Kojith will always be “cute”, because she seems to have been hatched with an innate understanding of exactly how to use her looks to get what she wants, and minus the scruples that would keep her from taking advantage of it. As a hatchling, it's easy enough to get into the habit. She's just so small, and flopping around on the Hatching Sands being an adorable baby scored her a rider and a free meal, right? She'd be a fool not to learn from that, and if there's one thing Kojith isn't, it's a fool.


Kojith is an opportunist. It's hard to tell what she enjoys more: wanting things, getting things, or the act that gets them for her. What does Kojith want? A little bit of everything, really. Shiny objects, bigger objects, better objects. Attention. Affection. If no one else has it, she wants to be the only one with it, and if others must have it, then she must have more of it. She seems to always be in need of something, but even she recognizes that part of the fun is in the wanting. She's not going to throw a tantrum – that's how babies get what they want, and she's a lot smarter and more sly than any baby (and cuter, if you ask her). She'll flash those big eyes, turn her head just so, put on that delicate little voice that makes you just want to take care of her, provide for her, and before you know it, you're minus something you used to have and she's happy and smug, cradling it in the corner. If the cute act doesn't work, then she'll find some other act – some elaborate story, some brand of manipulation, whatever it takes. In fact, the harder she has to work for something, the more she'll want it, and the more she'll enjoy winning it in the end. It's the fun of the con that keeps her going, really – the thrill of putting her skills to work, of solving problems and coming out on top. She'd be lying if she didn't admit to a twisted sense of satisfaction in proving her superiority to others, because that's part of it, too, but it's mostly the fun, the challenge.

Kojith is a restless mind, you see. It happens sometimes to the very clever: without anything more productive to occupy them, they find ways to occupy themselves. It just so happens that Kojith's choice of coping mechanism is more irritating to her fellows than some. She's only a green, after all, and no one expects her to be able to put much thought into anything, and the world offers precious little to occupy a dragon, anyway. If drills are easily-mastered, what then? Nap in the sun all day? Maybe that's fine for a couple of her fat blue brothers (and she is not shy about calling them that, either, the little brat), but she'd rather stir up trouble. Boredom sets in easily in her world, and she's so keen on avoiding it that she'll even procrastinate on her work just so she doesn't get it done and end up at loose ends too quickly. The easier something is for her, the more likely she is to put it off until later. For whatever reason, she doesn't trust easily, and prefers to tackle problems by herself. She'd be surprised if someone gave her something that she didn't have to manipulate them into giving her, and tends to be contemptuous of those who don't seem to be canny enough to look out for themselves first.

And yet, sometimes she is that dragon. Once you've earned her trust, there's little she won't do for you – even things she thinks you're clearly too much of a pansy to do for yourself. Somebody has to look out for those big cream-puffs who give stuff away for no good reason and trust too easily and are too nice to tell it like it is or fight back if someone tries to hurt them, and apparently that responsibility falls to her. Her tenuous grip of morality means that sometimes she does bad even when trying to do good, but she'd like to be a better dragon, really! She wouldn't really mind being universally loved and respected. Hmm, now there's an idea.

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