Character type: Candidate
Rank: Candidate
Age: 23
Gender: Male
Sexual Preference: Bisexual


On his arrival at the Weyr, R'khus stands out among the Searched. He naturally has a larger stature, but he also has the build of a man whose life has been filled with hard, grueling work, where muscles are thick from use but without the definition gained from the regimented fitness routines of men with more time on their hands. He’s tall, with strong broad shoulders and a chest to match. R'khus isn’t a lumbering giant, but he’s hardly a man you’d pick a fight with either.

R'khus falls on the rougher, gruffer side of handsome, with a strong jaw usually shadowed in a few days’ worth of dark stubble. He has a naturally tanned complexion with a slightly weathered look to his face from turns spent in the sun and sea, and light freckles here and there. He wears his black hair shorn close to his head, nearly shaved completely off, which tends to age his appearance by a turn or two and sharpens his features into something fierce when anger clouds his face with a frown or glare. But there is a softness to his face, a warmth and hopefulness in light, sleepy blue-grey eyes that suggests his strong arms are there for enveloping his loved ones in tight hugs, rather than throwing punches.


R'khus has never been a stranger to hard work, and it shows. It shows in how he carries himself, how he focuses on the tasks before him and the people asking things of him. He’s a man who finds purpose and meaning in being useful and dependable and /depended on/. Even during the turns of running around as a rapscallion from the wrong side of the holding, he was the dirty, scraped-up, hollow-eyed little urchin that all the other dirty, scraped-up, hollow-eyed little urchins could look to and trust, and that means something pretty profound to R'khus.

Having work to do, things to accomplish, has always been one half of how R'khus has found his place in the world, and lacking that hurts him, is almost a physically painful sensation that eats at him and drags his shoulders down and bows his head, makes him wonder if there’s any real point.

When he has work to do, he couldn’t be surer of himself. R'khus moves about his world quietly, slowly, all in his own time, like the big bear of man he’s recently grown into. It’s a rare individual who would try to hustle or hurry him, make him change his pace to suit someone else’s, and it shows. Most of the time it’s as if it’s just never occurred to him that someone else might want him to do something another way, or according to another timeframe. R'khus is unconcerned, though not truly oblivious — just that confident in himself, that quietly and easily strong, that he never second-guesses his way.

But then there’s that other half of what he needs to make the world /his/ and not some strange, alien, hostile place: family. The work ain’t really worth doing if he doesn’t have someone to do it /for/. R'khus may not seem the type, maybe not at first glance at his intimidating stature, but the man is sensitive, caring, thoughtful. He can’t help but get attached to people, and to want to make them his own. More than that, R'khus desperately needs to feel like he belongs somewhere, that there’s someone who will miss him if he doesn’t turn up at the end of the day, someone to share the stupid small things with. He pines for affection, warmth, for someone to look to him first in a crowd.

Understandably, with the loss of his fiance, and his livelihood, and essentially the whole life he’d built around both, R'khus is floundering hard. He doesn’t know who he’s supposed to be, what the world wants out of him for him to find these simple things and keep them. He worries that he just wasn’t meant for it, and tries all the harder to prove that he is, that he can make it happen. R'khus doesn’t always make the best choices in his efforts, but he does try to fix his mistakes when he comes across them. He’s a straight-shooter enough to own up to his faults, to his downsides, and doesn’t dodge away from them. But he isn’t much for wallowing either. He’s much more likely to pick up, pack up, and move on to where he can try again, doing his best not to look back.

He also wasn’t always this cute and cuddly, and he still has his moments of weakness, of regressing, where that shows. There’s still too much of the boy in him who only knew violence as an answer to being wronged, or threatened, or angered. That kind of ruthlessness can’t be entirely unlearned, not /really/, though he does try to keep a lid on it, constantly wary of a slip up that could ruin whatever life he’s tried to build himself through hard work and honest living. That sensitive nature of his means he feels slights on a deep, personal level, and for all his lazy, laid back charm, R'khus is easily enough stirred to true ire if one knows the right buttons to push.

He’s possessive, forming quick attachments and strong bonds, and when a person is one of ‘his’, R'khus will not tolerate seeing them wronged. He reacts poorly to his place being usurped or ignored. Part of him knows he has no real right to turn into a papa bear all the time without being asked, but it’s an instinct he struggles to stomp down on.


Birthdate: 8.8
Birthplace: Fisherman’s camp, somewhere on the island’s southeastern shoreline.

His birth wasn’t exactly planned, and his parents weren’t exactly together. R'khus doesn’t know very much about either of them apart from his father being a shipman of some sort, and his mother having a weakness for windblown men smelling like sea salt and ship tar. He was given up as a brand new baby to be raised more or less collectively by the fisherfolk of a small encampment along a sandy stretch of beach that wasn’t close to anything important or big enough to warrant turning the place into a proper port.

Those early turns of his childhood were filled with hard work from about the time his fine motor skills worked themselves out, but it wasn’t a terrible life. All the more reason he kicks himself now for taking off when he did, at the tender age of twelve, cocksure and hungry for something more than nets and fish and creaking little boats that always leaked and needed fixing. The gap-toothed smiles and warm, calloused hands, and nights spent around fires swapping tall tales weren’t enough then, though he aches for them now.

His grand adventure out into the wider world wasn’t half as safe, and the home he’d hoped to find wasn’t out there, unless one counts the little band of boys around his own age he fell in with, fighting to scrape by until they were old enough and big enough to fend off those who would take what little they ever found for themselves. They weren’t exactly a loveable little group of rascals. They stole, took what they needed with little thought for what that meant for those they left behind. They survived, caring for little but each other, and with time R'khus became a de facto leader among them, always steering them toward the next big thing, still searching for that home.

They grew up. Some drifted away, some fell to accidents, some others weren’t quick enough and ended up in the stocks. But they grew, and with the added turns and added inches they found more opportunities open to them. R'khus found them work where he could, ignoring the occasional grumble that it was easier to just keep on stealing and doing as they pleased. He was always the more mature of the group. Most of the time they ended up on ships, out at sea, doing the grunt work, but the food put in their hands was at least /put/ there, not grabbed on the sly, even if the work wasn’t strictly speaking always for the best or more honest of employers.

But R'khus’ insistence on working where they could should have been a clue that while he’d fallen in with his friends as a matter of survival, and done what he’d needed to to keep going, that life was never for him. He learned that when he met Linos at nineteen and fell head over heels. Because Linos was a good girl, from a nice family, and expected a life along similar lines. Her husband would be hard-working, would keep her safe and comfortable. She didn’t have time or eyes for a ne’er-do-well ruffian.

R'khus vowed to change for her, and he did. For the second time in his life he parted ways with the only family he had to chase after an elusive dream of ‘home’, finding good, honest work, saving what little marks he could, even if that meant begging off when the other men went looking for drinks and a rowdy night wherever they could. He even eventually agreed to work for a captain Linos’ father knew, even though it meant starting at the bottom well beneath his experience level. Hard work was no obstacle to him, and he put in the time and effort to show it.

Linos finally agreed to marry him, and R'khus could see his lifelong dream right on the horizon. Lords, how he imagined the place they’d live, the children he ached to hold and spoil, all with the love of his life at his side, tucked close where he could cherish her and keep her safe. He worked himself to exhaustion chasing it, his captain a hard taskmaster who was slow to dole out any praise, but R'khus worked on.

Maybe he worked too hard. Didn’t spend enough time with the woman he hoped to make his wife. Maybe he should have married her straight off and they could have worked hard together to put together their dream life, but R'khus had always insisted on waiting until he could deliver everything they’d both ever wanted, like a proud bird building his nest. He lost her to inattention, to another man who was more dashing, who found the time to lavish attention on her and make her feel special.

He was devastated, all the more so because he couldn’t even lose himself in work. The man Linos chose over him was the first mate of R'khus’ own ship, and R'khus left him with a broken jaw and broken nose and probably a few broken ribs before he took his leave of the ship as well. He also left him minus the little firelizard egg pot the man had bragged about so much, as his last parting blow. Despondent, he left, found passage on the first ship he could and made land at random, falling back into a life of wandering. But then, Thread had returned, and it wasn’t so easy anymore to be homeless while searching for a home. He took shelter where he could, back to the odd jobs that would give him a roof over his head, but never offered any of the things he longed for. To be honest, looking after the little egg was the only thing of real purpose he had in his life, and once tiny brown Noa was born, and he felt that connection, and saw something small and sweet looking to him for love and safety, the dark, lonely thoughts that had been brewing like stormclouds finally began to drift away, beaten back by that one small thing.

By the time he crossed paths with the Istan Searchrider, his immediate and natural skepticism at being being Searched, especially at his age, was held at bay by really having nothing better to look forward to. There was Noa, and it had him thinking how much more it would be, to have a dragon looking to him, loving him. He laughed at himself, knowing it’d be a Thread’s chance in /between/ him managing to Impress, but at least he’d be at the Weyr, and they’d probably let him stay on and work. Just maybe he’d find a little bit of permanence.



Linos, former fiance. Still not over her. :C


Malros, the sonofabitch who stole her away. >:C


Name: Noa
Type: Firelizard

Description: Soft and sweet like brown sugar, Noa is growing into a big boy, but still with a round little tummy he’s probably never going to grow out of, and soft, rounded features. He’s loose limbed and prefers curling up in the crook of R'khus’ arm or neck to perching, but when he has to sit up he’ll usually wrap his tail around whatever part of his person is closest, or tuck himself in close and tight.

Personality: In Noa’s defense, his first two sevendays of life were spent in a household that had a very spoiled little cat, so it may just be that he got a bit confused. Some call him lazy, others just think he’s especially loving, but Noa spends most of his time sprawled or curled over his person, soaking in the warm contact and closeness like— well, like a cat in a sunbeam. Truth is, Noa /is/ rather sweet and affectionate for a firelizard, and probably just this side of lazy, so the life of a lapcat doesn’t really seem that terrible to him. He will spend time on his own, out sunning with other flits and hunting to supplement all the tidbits R'khus still spoils him with. He just prefers to be close to R'khus if he has the choice, and cuddling close and taking a snooze just happens to be his favorite past time.


Color: Brown
Age: Hatchling
Weyr of Origin: Ista Weyr
Weyrling Class: DreamChasers


It is unlikely that in the history of browns, that there has ever been one more handsome than Culbeth. He’s a true beauty of a dragon and will be from the moment he hatches, from his colouring to his graceful form. He’ll be large for a brown, able to match even the bronzes in size, sleek and well formed without the hefty bulk his colour is renowned for. Hie every movement seems effortless which might be helped by the fact many will think his head is entirely lost up in the clouds. His colouring is gorgeous, a reddish, chestnut, shade which is shaded with softer paler shades of tawny. The overall effect renders him with a look like the sun is always touching him, gilding him in just that little way as to make him glow and shine.


What a sweetheart this brown is. No really, he really is that nice, it’s not an act, or a scam. He’s a gentle soul, very careful not to hurt anyone either physically or emotionally. Even as a clumsy hatchling he will be very cautious around his classmates and riders. He would hate to hurt them by accident! That would be dreadful! He’s also got impeccable manners, always a ‘please’ and ‘thank you’ and ‘oh excuse me’ and ‘I’m terribly sorry’. Even when he’s uncomfortable or unsure, you can be sure that Culbeth will fall back on being endlessly polite. Somehow he doesn’t get shoehorned into doing something he doesn’t wish to though. Although he wants to be polite, and kind, and help people out as much as he can, you can be sure that Culbeth will do what he thinks is the right thing, and damn the consequences.

This unfortunately leads to a rather self sacrificing habit. He would gladly give up his own happiness if it meant that someone he loved was happy, he’d do it in a heartbeat. If he thinks that’s the right thing to do, then shells help anyone try to convince him otherwise. He’s not naive, he won’t be guilted out of things, or fleeced by conniving siblings, but if one of his friends is sad, then he will offer them his portion of the herdbeast, or space in his wallow, or someone to cuddle with in the sun. As he gets older he will find more and more ways to help them cheer up, or to stand between them and trouble.

Culbeth has a great facility for learning. He has a fascination with hides and will in fact ask his rider to read them to him endlessly. And not only the thread hides either. He’ll acquire stories and hide records from everywhere and have them read to him. And when he finds a favourite tale, one perhaps written by one of the lower caverns workers, or one by the harpers of an old story, well he will want that read and re-read to him often. He’s got an extensive vocabulary and rather enjoys using important sounding words, embracing the new sounds of them.

When it comes to chasing, Culbeth won’t go for the obvious greens, the flashy showy ones. He loves the forgotten ones, or the ugly duckling ones. He enjoys getting to know them, to talking to them in the lead up to their flights. Prickly pins don’t scare him off easily, and he rather enjoys having a small circle of greens that he adores above all others. As a large brown, being the mate of a gold is also an option, and he can only hope his innate sweetness, and his down to earth nature would be enough to secure him a haughty gold’s love.

He’ll never be the best threadfighter, but he’s good. Perfectly average at it, not overly athletic or strong or fast. He’s steady, just like his colour is supposed to be, and he’s got a good head on his shoulder. He’ll never be an innovative leader or second…but he will be steady and dependable. And right now? Maybe that’s what Ista needs.

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