Location Ista Weyr
Position Candidate
Birthdate 8.437.6.20 (16)
Birthplace Telgar Weyr
Sexuality Bisexual
Played-By n/a
Aliases Mik, That Outsider Asshole
Player Siarna

Mikarlac is someone who looks too much like his Father to ever deny that lineage, and he realizes that every time he dares look into a mirror. Once short-haired, he’s growing out his dark brown hair in hopes that it might tear away from that family resemblence. It’s only showing that his hair also has a bit of a wave, a penchant for curls that looks far too similar for his liking. He’s also kept clean shaven exactly for that reason, and shaving’s become a bit of a necessity for him.

He’s long and lanky, having just recently hit a growth spurt that left him with too much leg and too little clothing to cover it. He’ll look every inch his Father when he’s fully grown, from the height to the lean body that just can’t seem to pack on muscle. He’s grown up a bit spoiled by having two sets of equally guilty parents, and so new clothes just seem to appear when he needs them. He keeps his clothes neat and tidy, well pressed and impeccably clean because that’s what proper people do. Nevermind that the layers do not do well at Ista, no matter the season.


Mikarlac is in a bit of a personality crisis (which is so rare in teenagers). He’s got an energy about him, a natural confidence and friendliness. He’s a sociable person, he loves to be in a group, loves talking and listening to others talk. He loves teamwork, loves working with and against others, loves the community and feeling like he belongs somewhere, like he’s contributing to a common goal. He does like to be moving, to be doing. The problem is that it’s so reminiscent of his father that he swings between spurts of laziness and vigor that often coincide with unwelcome check-ins from you know who. He’d love to play a game of hookball with the boys, but after watching his Dad prance around like a nancy he’d much prefer to sit on the sidelines and fake disinterest.

There’s a lot of anger bubbling just under the surface. He feels slighted that he was sent off to the Ista because of a distant relation to a distant father, and even more so because nobody else seemed to protest the transfer. He’s been forgotten about, hidden away in the barracks because of a Weyrleader’s agenda. Nevermind that there’s only one clutching Queen, with one hatching a turn to try his luck at (which that’s what it is, after all, good old fashioned luck and not any kind of inherent trait readily visible). He might as well stick himself into the Lower Caverns and accept his fate as a failure. He’s got quite the flair for the dramatic, too.

He’s got that Telgari attitude. He’s willing to take risks, to do what must be done to get the results he wants. He’s proud of who he is and where he comes from, and he doesn’t have the wealth of turns that Telgari like L’fer and S’rindal have. He hasn’t had the time to learn about the people and culture, and to be honest he doesn’t want to. He doesn’t trust these Istans. They are far too familiar with each other, too lazy to even fight Thread correctly. Ista is a closed, shut-in, inbred place, and he can’t imagine why anyone would have volunteered to come. He’s not going to associate well with his new peers, content instead to snark at them from a distance with his sister despite wanting so much to join into the games and rough-and-tumble and succeed in lessons. That’s simply not going to happen. Not yet, anyway.


Feels forced into dragonriding, though he can’t imagine doing anything else.
M’nias seems to have accidentally missed a point in his speeches. Truth be told the man doesn’t care what the boy Impresses, so long as he does. Greens and blues are important pieces of the cog, he’ll say, and Caistina will fix him with a hard stare and a possible smack on the back of the head.


Mikarlac’s life has been wholly uneventful, as far as it goes. The spawn from a flight, the biggest drama he brought into the world was M’nias’ little healer woman having a rude introduction to Weyr culture. Maybe that’s why they never really liked each other. Maybe that’s why Mikarlac would rather never have her drop by the barracks or invite them over for supper (who eats at home, anyway?). The way she tries to Mother him are wholly unnecessary, anyway. He had plenty of parenting, from a great foster-mother to creche caretakers. He even some actual parenting from his parents, between his Mother dropping by once every few months to check on him to his Father dropping by to give him some speech about fulfilling duties and living up to his family or some such nonsense.

A child didn’t understand such speeches, but as he grew he started to realize exactly what his Father wanted of him. It didn’t seem so bad, growing up. His Dad was big and strong, and for some turns he admired that. His Dad was a bronzerider. His Dad visited him more than the other Dads. Miath was silent, though he was big and seemingly all-knowing, and he let Mikarlarc scratch his eyeridges. He could have a dragon one day. He joined candidacy, eager and hopeful for the bronze that undoubtedly awaited him.

That bronze did not come. Hatchings came and Hatchings went, but still Mikarlac was left Standing. His little sister (half sister and foster sister both) joined candidacy, and the two comforted each other with next time. Next time, you’ll get that big bronze. Next time, you’ll get that sweet little gold. Thus far it’s turned out unlikely, with each speech from M’nias becoming more and more odious and tiring. They were trying. They worked hard, they were good, dutiful children. What else could they do but wait? He struggled under the pressure, and eventually he broke. What did it matter what he Impressed, provided that he did? Why not Impress a blue or a green, as long as he got that love and devotion and support that all his dragonrider friends spoke of? A part of him wants a green, not because of any stereotype or role, but just because it might be a smack in dear old Dad’s face.

Being shipped off to Ista with hardly a if you please was the last straw for Mikarlac. It hurt that his Mother didn’t seem to really notice. M’nias was excited for his position, for the climate and for the dear old woman and babies. Not a thought seemed to be directed to his oldest, and they were dropped off at the candidate barracks without a whoopsie daisy, nevermind that Caistina checked in on them after her meetings, even brought them a late dinner. He’s got a lot of anger towards his Father for bringing them to this forsaken posting, where the people are lax and lazy and far too friendly for his liking.

M’nias, bronzerider, who will never get ‘Best Dad Ever’ mugs
Ellarca, greenrider, who probably doesn’t know Mikarlac is gone
Machaira, candidate, who is the best bro despite being a woman
Caistina, JM Healer, who is not my real mom
Caistas and Rhia, suitably cute but weird kids

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