Character Type: Weyrling
Rank: Weyrling
Age: 14
Gender: Female
Sexual Preference: Bisexual


To anyone who knows her, or has even met her in passing, Tigrun is instantly recognizeable in a crowd forever afterward. Her mess of wild, frizzy light brown hair, usually held back from her face with a bandanna or other scrap of cloth (sometimes things she sews or weaves together or attempts to dye so they look cooler), is hard to miss. She's normally (and will eventually stay) about average height for a girl her age, with green eyes and a sharp-featured face dotted with pale freckles, though right now she's in the middle of a growth spurt and her pants and shirtsleeves suddenly seem too short for her limbs. She's still a bit skinny in the way of children who grow fast, just now going through the first stages of womanly development, with nothing to show for it yet but small, still-budding breasts and a particularly rough monthly that always makes her puke at least once (though she always blames it on somebody's ugly face if she gets caught in mid-puke, because it's still a little embarrassing to admit that something as simple as just being a girl makes her sick). Her mother has assured her that it's common and most girls usually settle out of it in a few turns, but she's not entirely convinced. Long legs, still skinny and coltish now, may just be her greatest physical asset in the future, if her genetics stay particularly kind in her development.

She's going through a phase now – and has been for the past two turns, so maybe it's not just a phase – of dressing particularly loud. She likes bright colors, will layer and clash them, and if it's too hot to wear a coat or vest over her shirt, she'll layer by tying on bandannas or simple handmade jewelry. She'd really like to get boots of different colors, too, but her mother draws the line at paying for hand-dyed boots that she's going to outgrow in a turn anyway. Fashion has become a sort of a hobby of hers. She spends so much time sewing and mending her own clothes – if she does it, she can put a patch of a different color on before her mom gets it and does something sensible after all – that she's gotten quite good at it, and she can make a piece of cheap-looking jewelry out of almost anything that she can tie, wire, or punch a hole in.


Nobody was really all that surprised that Tigrun decided to be one of those girls who goes for a dragon. She's always been an active girl, always on the run and getting up in the middle of everything. She's a do-er, not a thinker or a planner – she believes that obstacles are only obstacles if you let them be, but she's more apt to smash all the things than to carefully unknot a complicated situation. She's not afraid of much, either physically or socially, and she's never hesitated to greet the new kid or speak up in class. Learning-wise she's merely an average student, but she's saavy beyond her turns when it comes to people. She's naturally a little skeptical of others and their motivations, even at her young age, and she'll question authority (or anyone, really) in a heartbeat if something doesn't jive with her instincts. She keeps a fairly large circle of friends (who occasionally are enemies for a sevenday or two at a time – she's fickle and confrontational, which can spell temporary disaster in a child's social life, but it seldom lasts for long). The only thing that's really consistent in her interactions with others is that she's very much an alpha – loud and bossy, and can be quite obnoxious when she doesn't get her way.

At this point in her life, she doesn't really care too much about the bigger picture. She wants to ride a dragon and be the best she can be to fulfill her own sense of pride and adventure, not because of any fancy notions about what the Weyr needs from her, or because she feels any sense of responsibility towards the legacy of her forefathers. She resents the Outsiders because they're strangers taking the place of people she's grown up with, that's mostly all. She's a bit self-centered in that way. She doesn't think she's the center of the universe exactly, but she probably does vastly over-estimate her importance in the grand scheme of things, and she'll like things that make her happy and dislike things that inconvenience her – it's as simple as that. She's still young enough that she might grow out of that, but she's too much of a stubborn brat to easily relinquish any notions that she doesn't want to relinquish, so maybe not.


Birthdate: 439.02.13

Tigrun grew up at Ista Weyr, and led a pretty typical weyrbrat life. Her mother was a cook, rapidly rising in the ranks (as it were) as she showed an aptitude for organizing the kitchens, and her father was a hapless bluerider who knew her but wasn't quite sure what to do with her when he saw her. She was a perfectly healthy, normal child – a bit bossy sometimes, occasionally in trouble, but with lots of friends of both the rough-and-tumble and more subdued types, though she tended to spend more of her time rough-housing than playing with her dolls. She always knew she wanted to be a dragonrider – no disrespect to the ladies of the Lower Caverns at all, she just preferred something a little more dangerous in her life.

Losing her father in the first 'Fall did nothing to dissuade her, either. As soon as she turned 12, she claimed her right to Stand and moved into the barracks with the other candidates, determined to stake out her place among them.



Mother: Tiabarta, Head Cook
Father: D'gru, rider of blue Bergith

Half-siblings: TBD


People who let her have her way


People who don't
People with good taste in fashion


Dragon Name: Larcsforth
Colour: Blue
Age: 1 turn
Weyr of Origin: Ista
Weyrling Class:


Though a smallish blue, the lack of size – not nearly the smallest of his color, but small just the same — somehow seems to fit Larcsforth well. For that matter, everything seems to fit him well. Holding his head high, stepping confidently and deliberately, his good posture and bearing somehow seem to make what flaws he has seem less noticeable. He's not overly-skinny, just slender, all smooth lines without any of the rippling muscle that some dragons sport, and while it's a rather pleasing outline it's obvious that he'll not be a particularly strong or physically tenacious dragon. Quick? Perhaps, though he won't have the wing-strength to really keep up for long. He's light, though, and his wings are broad – he'll be a fine glider and maneuverer, and in time, he'll discover the best way to use the air currents around him to play to his strengths, using them to keep him aloft with as few flaps as possible.

His hide is one of those that turns heads because it has a lot of contrast in it: primarily a light, powdery blue, with points of a much darker, richer shade. The end of his muzzle, tops of his headknobs, his feet, his tail, his wingtips, and the tips of his ridges are all that darker color, as well as some darker shading along his shoulders and up the front of his wing-arms. It all blends smoothly in the transition areas – there's a lot of contrast, but no stark lines.


Larcsforth is a dignified little fellow: calm, composed, and polite; always so polite. To his mind, there's just no excuse for rudeness – no, not in humans and dragons, who are certainly intelligent enough to know how to behave, and how to treat one another. Come now, we're all civilized creatures, aren't we? There's not a thing in the world wrong with expressing oneself, but there's no need to use crass, filthy language, and certainly no call for violence. Unless, of course, it's perpetrated upon you, first. He may prefer that everyone just sit down for a spot of tea rather than raise a ruckus, but if he feels he must, he won't hesitate to step up and argue or defend his own (or a lady's) honor. Some insults can be cheerfully ignored, but others are just too dire to allow him to turn the other cheek. Some behaviors just aren't acceptable. He might have a tongue that can sell ice to a High Reachean, but you'll never catch him lying to get what he wants. No, he believes it's a dragon's duty to deal honestly and fairly with those around him, because trust is something that simply can't be bought.

He's a rather happy dragon without being loud or hyper about it at all. It's hard to really say what it is about him that makes you imagine him sitting there smiling quietly all the time. Can you hear a smile in a voice? Perhaps that's it, but then, there are a lot of rather nice things about his rich mindvoice and carefully-enunciated words if you happen to be lucky enough to hear it. He breezes through his life quite happily, almost always good-natured and affable with his comrades-in-arms, and even when one of them does do something to offend him, he's always willing to forgive and forget so long as the other party either apologizes honestly, settles the debt, or at the very least is willing to call a “let's agree to disagree” truce and then behaves honorably afterward. He enjoys helping his fellows, and is just full of advice that he believes is sage. Whether it actually is or not may just be up for debate, but no one can deny that it's always given with the best of intentions (though it's also frequently given to people who haven't necessarily asked for it nor wanted it).

He may have a strong set of values and standards of behavior, but that doesn't mean he lets them cage him in or repress him. That sort of behavior comes as naturally to him as breathing (indeed, he was hatched this way, wasn't he?), and he doesn't allow much else to concern him. In fact, his instructors, and later his wingleaders, may find Larcsforth to be a rather lackadaisical sort. He isn't actually lazy, and will perform every task asked of him, but he does it with the air of someone who doesn't appear to be overly concerned about getting it done well or on time. Usually it is performed to standard, and in a reasonably timely manner, but that doesn't change the infuriating fact that he just doesn't seem to have any sort of drive or urgency in him at all.

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