Description
Reaching a fairly average five foot six, this young woman can only really be described as skinny; she has little figure to talk of and her long limbs only tend to add an illusionary few inches to her height. Her features are bony and regular, dominated by wide chocolate eyes that almost match colours with her twining jaw-length curls, her skin sun-kissed with barely a trace of a freckle.
Her legs are encased in a pair of tightfitting brown hide trousers that do nothing to give her already scrawny legs any hint of womanly shape and are obviously the bottom half of a set of riding leathers. The jacket has been discarded somewhere and a flowing cream shirt graces her top half, its sleeves wide around her skinny arms and its slightly billowing overall appearance adding a little size to her body, but not the shape she sadly lacks.
On her shoulder is the black and orange knot of Ista, an extra yellow thread entwined within marking her as a junior goldrider.
History
Leslyn was born, as many are, to a pair of riders — her mother is Lysette, rider of green Ayath, her father is W'yn, rider of bronze Zymanth. Her life, though she would like very much to tell people otherwise, was actually fairly normal.
She was born in Western Weyr after her parents split and spent the first five years of her life travelling between there and Ista so that each parent could have some time with her when they weren't too busy. Then came the arguement. She was never entirely sure what happened but her mother suddenly announced one day she had had enough of the Weyrleader, they were moving to Honshu and that was the end of the matter. Leslyn was six.
She hated Honshu. She hated the fact they had had to move in the first place. And in time she came to hate her mother as well for making her go there. She regularly hid from her, stole things and was rather a brat to all the nannies. Her favourite arguement to have with any of the other children was that they couldn't be mean to her because her father was important — even after he stepped down as Weyrsecond of Ista.
During her 'imprisonment' at Honshu she was never allowed to visit Ista to see her father and that only served to deepen her annoyance and increase her rebellion. Much to her mother's dismay Leslyn categorically refused to follow any sort of career her mother would find acceptable. She discovered a talent for mending clothes and that became her job. She actually does like it, and is rather good at it, but any time mention was made of sending her to the weavers she suddeny became incompetent and surly. Needless to say the weavers refused to take her and she smugly went off to keep doing her own thing.
When Leslyn reached the age of fifteen her mother had had enough of her temper and her lack of ambition. It took some arranging but Leslyn was packed off to live with her father in Ista.
It was exactly what she'd been wanting, but the question is… will it live up to her expectations? The answer, in short, was a resounding no.
Leslyn found herself almost immediately at odds with her father, at odds with one of the riders of the weyr and in trouble quite a lot. As things calmed with her father, and she developed an on-again, off-again relationship with a rider named R'oc, they seemed to escalate in other area — one particularly nasty arguement ending in a brawl which has her put on an ill fated punishment duty team. If anything she mellowed a little when stuck in the cave waiting to be rescued, or at least she learned to not punch people.
With T'ev things deteriorated further after her return. She heard a rumour that he had been propositioning a couple of the younger weyr residents and that, coupled with their previous arguments, really annoyed her. She now goes out of her way to make sure to ridicule him any time she sees him regardless of his reaction or who he's with at the time. Rumour has it one of the residents has been taking bets on how long it is before she ends up on punishement duty once more, but so far she's resisted anything other than jeering. So far.
After a particuarly unpleasant arguement following her final break up with R'oc Leslyn was happened upon in the bowl by Z'lren and his bronze Irilanth. The pair seemed to take a liking to Leslyn and she siezed the oppoertunity to escape for a while by returning home to Western as a candidate. Her time there was, thankfuly, one of mostly happiness. She made several friends and, even though they did almost get caught during an illicit poker game with chores as bets, she managed to stay out of trouble. Thanks to one of the other candidates she even developed the habit of going running each morning.
When hatching time rolled around Leslyn was eventually left dragonless on the sands, though for some reason it didn't bother her as much as she thought it might. Oh she cried when she was alone, but publically she was more worried about her friend Menea whom she had been utterly convinced would Impress.
Two days after the big disappointment Leslyn's father arrived at Western to take her home. In many ways she was happy to go, though it hurt to leave behind the few friends she had made. She actually hid for a few days once she was back at Ista, sure that people would mock her for being left standing. But to her surprise few mentioned it, and soon things were falling back into their usual pattern. Then the feud between the cooks and the launderers sprang up.
She wasn't involved to begin with, to be honest she found it rather juvenile, but soon she heard from Leona about harpers doing mending on the side and that made her blood boil. Sure the weavers had joined in, but she hadn't and as far as she knew neither had any of the other seamstresses. Soon they too joined in the feud - seamstresses not talking to harpers, weavers not talking to cooks or launderers depending on which side they'd picked, cooks not talking to launderers, and launderers not talking to cooks. Pretty soon it seemed that nobody in Ista was talking to anybody else, and then Jeriah's gold Teloriith rose in the middle of all the mess.
There's nothing like an impending clutching to make things slightly more calm, though while things inside the Weyr calmed down, outside renegades took the opportunity to burn a cothold nearby. Strangers became a thing to be feared, which made many nervous of the impending Search.
Despite all that it was two strangers that Leslyn soon found herself attached to - Artien and Connor. Artien she met when he was fleeing from some of the more predatory women in the weyr, Connor was slightly less of an impressive meeting the two were simply on the beach at the same time. Friendships were quick in forming, something only reinforced when the trio found themselves Searched one-by-one for Teloriith's clutch.
Family
| Name | Relation | Location | Position |
|---|---|---|---|
| C'nor | Weyrmate | Ista Weyr | Rider of blue Caerith |
| W'yn | Father | Ista Weyr | Rider of bronze Zymanth |
| Lysette | Mother | Monaco Weyr | Rider of green Ayath |
| Lyrric | Half-Brother | Monaco Weyr | Weyrbrat NPC |
| Loria | Half-Sister | Monaco Weyr | Weyrbrat NPC |
Firelizards
| Calm in the Tempest Bronze Sobek A regal quality permeates the air around this master of his domain, allowing those around him the benefit of his knowledge and experience. Head, carefully carved in molten bronze, is held aloft, showing off his colouration in the grandest possible way. A stripe of near brown rises from the tip of his muzzle and flows back between his eyes before trailing over his shoulders to meet once more at his chest, framing a pale copper mark at the base of his throat. His wings, large and sweeping, are nevertheless bland in colour — a single shade of pale bronze sweeps them in their entirety. His long limbs bear the marks of true strength and the same patch which resides upon his neck blossoms once more upon his inner thighs and stomach. Regal in bearing yet able to blend into the background, this bronze shares a duality that is rarely so finely accomplished. |
| I'm A Flyer! Blue Pahket A long narrow muzzle with a sharp point is colored deep indigo. A rounded head has a point at the base of the skull and his short neck appears too thin to carry it properly. His two forearms, back and head are covered with a navy blue. His chest, stomach and hindlegs are powdered with baby and sky blues. His wide wings topped with navy blue while the underside is coated with the nearly gray shades of breaking waves and young storm clouds. His entire frame is built for strength and agility in the skies. |
| Amazonian Huntress Green Anuket The shadows of the deepest jungles wrap themselves in protective greed around the petite form of this graceful lady. The tone does not waver over head, torso or tail. It does not shift a single degree upon her legs and yet, as sunlight through the leafy canopy, patches of a paler shade have taken an erratic hold within the near darkness which caresses her wings. Her twin orbs give a gentle constant glow, the hunter's eyes watching from the shadows. |
Dragon
Moonlit Marble Queen of the Hunt Gold Ankhepith
She walks in beauty, like the night… The classic image of the gold before you could have coined this famous line of prose, but darkness is not what surrounds her. She is bathed by a glow reminiscent of moonlight, starlight, kissing the soft, suede hide far more gently than the harsher rays of Rukbat. From the chiseled wedge head, crescent moon eyeridges and regally upright headknobs, to the slightly larger than normal spade-tip tail, the lines of her body flow like a river, a strong and all-powerful force. Marbled swirls of caramel ripple along neck and shoulders giving rise to a pair of pale, shining wings, the smooth, carved ailerons keeping the papyrus linen between them taut and ready for flight. Muscle and sinew gather in simple, natural curves, accentuating the lemon yellow bow of her belly and lean, well-balanced haunches. Finishing off this understated picture of loveliness are bright, white talons, half moons of shining bone that seem to keep this lithe form from floating back to the ancient depths from whence she came.
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