Location Ista Weyr
Position Wingrider
Birthdate 8.419.8.10 (34)
Birthplace Ista Weyr
Sexuality Bisexual
Played-By Adam Pascal
Player Siarna

P’chian looks innocent enough, with his thick, sandy brown locks, boyish features, and crooked smile. Once upon a time he was quite the fixture in the Dining Hall, relaxing on a bench and sharing a beer with someone, betting on cards (though he was allowed a ‘Second, it was only Fair), at home with himself and surrounded by friends. Once he was more casual, once it was much easier to have a smile appear on his lips, or spot the twinkle in his eyes that made them positively glow. He was the one that always had a telltale grin of mischief on his face long before someone fessed up, or dissolved into laughter partway through a joke that was supposed to be told very seriously- but those times are getting harder and harder to come by as the turns go on.


Much of P’chian’s life has been spent proving what he can’t do, instead of what he can. He will never tell you that he is a great orator, with a penchant for telling silly stories (mostly made up. mostly) or doing hilarious imitations (ask him about his M’drasen impersonation). Nobody talks about how quietly charismatic or deeply empathetic P’chian is, how he just seems to know when something is wrong or something is particularly right. Everyone- including himself- is much more focused on what P’chian does wrong. Which is, unfortunately, just about everything.
P’chian is a nice guy, and he really means well, but he’ not so great at settling down and focusing, and neither is his green. When things just take so much time to make senseo and everyone else is gone, off having dinner or having fun OR, stuck with him and getting increasingly mad- it’s just easier for him to shut down, to slump his shoulders and give up. Words and numbers and letters swim before his eyes, and for some reason his brain just shuts down when he needs to make an argument or learn a new formation. Words and name and face don’t come to him very quickly, and he’s developed ways to cope. Istans know that when he snaps his fingers he has a word on the tip of his tongue or the back of his mind or a name or a face that he just can’t recognize- and while he appreciates the help he just wants to GET THERE ON HIS OWN, THANK YOU.

He is deeply entrenched in Survivor’s Guilt. He is a firm believer that he was the sole cause of D’lere and T’lenen’s deaths, and he hasn’t been able to look T’berli or D’veld or R’fan in the face since. Why would they sacrifice themselves for him? It was the bronzes that they needed to survive the Pass. Nobody cared about greenriders. This hatred and guilt towards himself gravitates out to latch onto the Outsiders, the ones who took the place of his friends and colleagues and leaders. There is a lot of anger and sadness bubbling just under the surface, but he’s been avoiding confrontation (and avoiding others) for so long that who knows what might happen when or if he finally snaps.

Common Knowledge

- He has what we would call Moderate to Severe learning disabilities, some cocktail of dyslexia, dysgraphia, dyscalculia. Potentially even minor ADD as a child.
- Has probably been spending too much of his stipend on drinks or other things to help him forget, to stop from seeing T’lenen in his dreams.


Pachian had a nice enough childhood, the son of a bluerider and a cook that was ushered to the creche for his formative turns. Running after the older kids and running away from the littles, playing their games and living their lives relatively free under a thread-free sky. So what if that game ended up making him the referee in the game of dragonfighting with ‘Nala on B’ziah’s shoulders, with T’berli on T’lenen’s- and getting scooped up by V’lada to be a SURPRISE ATTACK, RAWR!

The Crechemarms reported him as being a quiet kid and eager to please. The Harpers eventually added to their reports ‘eager to please, a slow, deliberate kid’ quickly changed in candidacy to ‘stupid and unmotivated’. Not that he was particularly either of those things, but what was first a cute quirk morphed into a crippling weakness. Pachian always struggled with words, with reading and writing and even simple arithmetic; so that when he advanced from Harper’s classes to Candidate Training a piece of him broke. He could not keep up with the other kids, could not keep up with the rigorous pace the then-Weyrlingmaster ascribed to, so why should he even try? Even the other twelve turn olds were frustrated with him before the next hatching was even clutched.

Unfortunately (or fortunately that the Weyrlingmaster didn’t have time to kick him out of Candidacy) he Impressed at ALMOST 13- really just barely twelve, but the joke stuck and continues on to this day- to his darling green Sulith. In a clutch of strong personalities (including T’berli), he was excited to be a part of it, to be included in this new step with everyone else. He hoped his problems would just melt away like they were supposed to at Impression, that suddenly he would be great at everything because he was a dragonrider now, and with all the confidence and love that Sulith had to give, why couldn’t it be possible?

P’chian quickly learned that life does not work that way. He barely, BARELY passed weyrlinghood, partially because he did scrape through with passable marks and because the Weyrlingmaster saw to give credit where credit was due. P’chian was a hard worker, a dutiful kid, and the WLM hoped that perhaps the Fighting Wings would allow him to settle into a groove. They were in an Interval, after all. There was turns of time for P’chian to practise and grow with his peers. Sadly, this also did not work- he was the cause of so many minor mishaps during his first couple of turns in the Wings that the leadership contemplated leaving him to the Queen’s Wing. His then-Wingleader D’lere and ‘second T’lenen saw something in him and became determined for him to succeed. Both worked with him after hours, with one-on-one lessons until they eventually saw progress, until he got the hang of things and they were all certain that he would not be the cause of any major accidents.

D’lere and T’lenen’s extra effort was absorbed by his wingmates, with many of the elder riders taking time and effort to praise, to advise, to help. He quickly became a young favorite of the Wing. He might’ve been a little shit, but he was THEIR little shit- a competition arose with the riders of Stormriders and Windraiders over “What stupid shit’ both Nala and P’chian did on that particular day or week. Still, the reputation stuck and he kept it alive in good humor. Tunnelsnakes in T’lenen’s bed was obviously P’chian (though really it was T’berli AND Nala). A hangover was because P’chian wouldn’t let them stop drinking. D’ven was actually the one that wrote CHUMP on the back of R’nayl’s helmet (yeah, nobody believed that either). But when P’chian finally decided to get even and rearrange the entirety of T’berli’s weyr in the center of the Weyrbowl not a single person actually believed him when he confessed.

That crooked smile won over plenty of people to his cause. Sure, he was a klutz and maybe ‘not all there’ when it came to reading letters or viewing wing formations, but he was a sweet enough kid that grew into a witty, pleasant young man with ‘the best’ come hither eyes. His gentle, soft-spoken nature won time in plenty of furs and sparked a few relationships. A few of them caused children- including his mirror image Sachian. There was also R’niel more recently, a handsome Istan rider that dazzled him with small gestures, when a graze of the hand or a lingering gaze caused shocks to tremble up and down his spine. There was something there that made P’chian realize what all those harper tales were really about, and while he teased because of time the two danced around each other, P’chian only laughed. There was time for that. All the time on Pern.

Deep down, under his crooked smile and come hither eyes was a deep love for his wingmates that were so patient and kind and supportive of him despite all his faults. All their deaths hit him hard. T’lenen and D’lere died because of HIM. Why him, when they needed strong Istan leaders? Greens and blues were collateral, everyone knew that. Nobody stuck their necks out for them. The ballads were always about the bravery and glory of the bronze and golds. Every since he’s been suffering with Survivor’s Guilt…and it’s distracted him into making the same old mistakes again. Except T’lenen and D’lere aren’t here to help him anymore. Nobody is here to help him anymore.

P’chian retreated into himself over the last few turns. He doesn’t talk to friends or family much, anymore- Sachian, with all his puberty changes, is a mystery to him now, a name he barely remembers and a face he no longer recognizes. He does his drills, goes on Search or Sweeps or Watch without complaint, then goes home. Stays home. Does not interact unless he needs to interact. It’s all going through the motions. He must punish himself, after all, now that noone is there to do it for him. He wallows in his guilt and his despair. His almost-weyrmate, darling R’niel, couldn’t bear watching the spark in his eyes die, to see him shudder and withdraw from the faintest touch. It hurts that now he is a senior rider among a Wing full of Outsiders and fresh-faced Weyrlings. He deeply resents the Outsiders who took the places of his leaders and friends and mentors, but he’s so naturally confrontation-avoidant that he isn’t sure how to deal with his feelings. It’s been building over the last four turns and an explosion may happen sooner rather than later.


P’rafen, bluerider, father
Chira, Lower Caverns Cook, Mother
Handful of half-sibs, cousins, etc
Sambra, lower caverns, a few flings
R’niel, dragonrider, an almost-weyrmate (adoptable)
Sachian, candidate and chip off the old block
handful of other children



Color Green
Birthplace Ista Weyr
Birthdate 8. 432.3.2 (21)
Wing Windraiders Wing

Sulith was never a gorgeous green. It was once believed that she would grow into the quickly-growing body, but it somewhere along the line it never really happened. She doesn’t just look mismatched, she feels mismatched, and doesn’t ever feel comfortable in her own skin. She needs a lot of support and lots of love to get her into her groove in the air. It doesn’t help that every inch of her even looks a little bit mismatched- form her big clompy feet and overlong limbs to her giant wings that easily get pulled every which way by the harsh winds if she and P’chian aren’t careful. It also certainly doesn’t help that P’chian, so entrenched in his own problems and concerns and shortcomings, doesn’t always have the time for her insecurities. He had plenty of his own, thank you.

Her hide looks almost like a quilt, blending between several shades of green- mossy patches along her withers, speckles and ripples across her wings, granny smith blotches smeared along her face and tail. She envies all those dragons that are solid colours, or have some sort of coherent design across their hides! They just look so much prettier than she does.


Sulith isn’t particularly dumb- not chronically, not problematically, like P’chian is- nor does she shut down and grow unmotivated and stubborn at the slightest provocation. She wants to try hard, really she doe, but she’s just not very graceful. She is clumsy both in the air and on the ground, like she never quite got used to how big and how lanky she grew. It didn’t help that P’chian wasn’t ready to be a dragonrider- the Flying, the Betweening, the Formation, the Mating Flights- nothing seemed to come easily to P’chian and thus nothing came easily to her, and it’s caused her problems from the start and will continue to do so. It’s sad, really it is, because she does try so hard, and she is so eager to please, but she can’t stand to see her darling P’chian stumble and fall and get angry over things that he just can’t do, and she ends nearly every Threadfall and Wingdrill upset and exhausted.

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