Description
Franses is as plain as plain can be without disappearing completely into the background. She stands about 5 feet, six inches and carries more weight on that tall frame than perhaps she should. Heavy as she is, the tone of her body is firm; hard muscles are discernible beneath that liberal coating of olive-skinned flesh. Thick black hair falls in heavy waves to the small of her back, framing a chubby, oval face sprinkled with freckles on her nose and cheeks. Above the fanciful constellations of dark spots hover a pair of deep, brown eyes touched by amber in sunlight. She is 27 Turns, 4 months, and 12 days old.
Franses is wearing a woven burgundy tunic with long, straight sleeves. The wide wrist cuffs and small V-shaped opening at the neck have a subtle leaf pattern embroidered on them in a darker thread. Around her right shoulder is a double corded loop with a short tail in harper blue and white, the knot of a senior apprentice. Beside it lay another loop, this one of twined orange and black with four knots and an additional thread of green, signifying her status as a Wingsecond at Ista Weyr and the color of her lifemate. Pounded sisal pants of a uniform indigo embrace her wide hips and thighs then fall loosely to the scuffed leather, ankle high boots on her feet.
History
Fransessyra doesn't offer to share her life story with many. Correction, she doesn't offer to share it with anyone. What she will say is the bare facts necessary to get from one place to the next.
She was born and raised in Southern Hold by her mother, Syras, a Journeyman Healer. Her father, Franseyz, a Hold Guard, didn't stick around long after her birth. The kitchen aunties told her that the marriage - if you could call it that - lasted a little over a year, long enough for him to take one good look at his daughter and decide he'd better try for better.
As Fransessyra grew older, Syras garnered a similar opinion of her and rarely failed to share it. However, unlike Franseyz, the Healer refused to give up 'nurturing' her. It would have been too much like admitting failure. So she dealt with her mother until she was old enough to leave (or escape if she's feeling particularly truthful) and she shortened her name to Franses.
Coming to Harper Hall was the only thing that made sense to her to do once she was free of Southern Hold. She's only good at three things, singing, writing and drawing. Two out of three ain't bad.
Most times, the tone of her voice is enough to stop any more questions about her past. And that's just how Franses likes it.
Family
| Name | Relation | Location | Position |
|---|---|---|---|
| Tellus | Weyrmate | Ista Weyr | Wher handler to Blue Tesk |
| Syras | Mother | ||
| Franseyz | Father |
Firelizards
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Dragon
Green Danath
An ocean before a summer storm has washed ashore and covered the body of this green in its image. Ripples of sky blue at the convex dome of her blunt muzzle are swept up in the strong current of palm-green flowing across her broad, wedge-shaped forehead. Upright headknobs rise like mossy pillars from the swirling depths, creating breakers of yellow-green foam that drip along the edges of each delicately arched eyeridge, attributing an air of open intelligence to the eyes they protect. Down the river of her neck runs a heady mixture of clover green and royal blue flecked with seagrass that crashes upon her wide chest with all the rage of a waterfall only to pool and eddy languidly around the muscle masses of her shoulders, torso and haunches. Thin sail membranes of deep hunter green are an abyss upon which ailerons of sand hold stubbornly, giving birth to powerful wings. From these same lightless depths, worn and barnacle encrusted spinal ridges rise from their watery graves to be kissed with fiery chestnut at each tip by a molten hued tail-spade, While talons of froth sprout like mares heads from the carefully sculpted fingers and toes of this spirit of the sea.
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