A'eyr
A'eyr
alek1a.jpg
Portrayed By Alessandro Pierozan
Gender Male
Full Name Alekzandyr
Aliases Alek
Place of Birth Unimportant
Current Location Igen Weyr
Occupation Weyrling/Sr Apprentice
Craft Healer
Dragon Bronze Indaryth

Description

A cascade of light blonde hair would spill from the top of this young man's head down past his shoulders in a straight and even cut, but most often than not it's tied up into a tight knot at the back of his skull. The golden ratio of his face begins at the neat and tapered brows that sits above sea-foam green eyes framed in thick tawny lashes, continues down the long bridge of his nose to the fullness of his lips and ends at the slight cleft of his chin. He possesses a notably angular jawline and high cheekbones that when combined with his other features makes it difficult to categorize him accurately as beautiful or handsome column. At five-foot-six, his build is on the slender side of athletic, turns of manual labor having added definition and sculpted musculature to the entirety of his body. Long of limb and torso, his arms and legs contain surprising strength, some of the vasculature in his hands and forearms visible just below the outer surface of his pale skin.

Alek favors breathable fabrics in shades of gray, silver, and ivory and is never found wearing anything else. Preferably he keeps to a thin long sleeved shirt and simple trousers that accentuate his frame without clinging to it, and a pair of serviceable boots. Pinned to one shoulder are two knots. One indicates he's a weyrling at Igen weyr, complete with a thread of bronze for his lifemate Indaryth, while the other tells of his status as a Sr. Apprentice of the healer craft.


History

Humble beginnings…that's the saying isn't it? Doesn't quite hit the mark when describing how it was that my twin sister and I came into the world, and it's not a story that hasn't been told a thousand times over. A flight, a green dragon caught by a brown, and that concluded our conception. That we were introduced to Pern earlier than expected, born small and sick, and not anticipated to live very long? Well, that might suggest to some that Alexa and I were fighters. The reality, however, far more amusing. It was as if my sister and I wanted to show everyone just how wrong they all were in their preconceived notions. Especially our mother, who was the first in a long line of disappointments, when she thrust us at another woman almost the very moment that the healers confirmed we'd survive after all. I can't speak for Alexa, but no love was lost towards the woman who birthed us and promptly gave us up. Don't get me wrong, I'm not holding a grudge, I just don't think about her. Ever.

That other woman? She was our 'mother' for all of five turns. Disappointment, number two. Not that she wasn't tender, attentive, loving and affectionate. She was all of things that people expect of a parent, but her weak heart and weaker constitution does bring into question what she was thinking taking on a pair of newborns. Clearly, no thought at all. Looking back, I have to wonder, was her head at all screwed on straight? She'd dressed us the same, kept our hair the same, and really? Naming us Alekzandyr and Alekzandra? Did she even care as much as she tried to make us think she did? Alexa remembers her with some fondness, I won't fault her for that, and I keep my opinion about her to myself. Our next stop? My sister and I are fairly in agreement about how the couple that took us on next played their part into shaping us into who'd we someday be. Rules. So many rules. It was stifling. Constricting. I could hardly breathe. It lead to this one crazy night when Alexa and I kept switching back and forth, pretending to be one or the other and they…sorry I am laughing so hard right now…they completely fell for it. It was the inspiration for 'the game' in which we'd learned that as long as we looked, sounded, and acted compliant…the world opened up to us. It didn't matter that behind our smiles and cheerful agreement, we had plans within plans, all based in the premise that in the end…we'd get what we wanted. It, was glorious.

Finally, WE were winning. It was likely because this woman and her husband were so easily manipulated that things turned out as well as they did. It didn't matter that they'd fostered as many other children as they possibly could (for some reason I have yet to understand), Alexa and I were their favorites. The good kids. It allowed for the wiggle room we needed to stretch our wings a bit and see what was really out there. Alexa, had her books. A lot of books. Too many books to count really, so when she expressed an interest in being a Harper, no one was even surprised. I might have floored them a bit when I told them that I wanted to enter the healer craft, admittedly. I played at being friendly and easy going, but honestly, I understood plants better than people. I'll give credit, where credit was due, that woman's insistence on chores even in those earliest of days was the reason I'd found my passion. One man's weed is another boy's treasure, right? It was for me at least and it helped me discover the voracious appetite I had for learning now that there was something worth learning about and I suddenly realized what my bookish sister had been going on and on about for turns. Not, quite, to her degree because the only books that I was interested in had to do with botany. Funny how things work out, as both Healer and Harper Halls were so close to one another, allowing Allie and I to remain close. Yes, I call her Allie, but don't think for a second that you can too….because you can't.

The only problem I had with Healer Hall, was the general knowledge classes. It meant touching, other people, strange people with even stranger illnesses and having to force myself to make it seem like I wasn't crawling under my own skin. Ew, okay, just ew. Herbal remedies. Poisons. Anti-poisons. That was the stuff and the second that I could put distance between people and myself and get closer to a plant? I leapt at the chance. Thank Faranth that I'd gotten so good at 'the game', it made playing it bearable, but then again so did my proximity to Alexa. Which is why when the opportunity to be posted came up, we made sure we went the same place. Igen. Sand, everywhere. In everything. It, took some adjustment and a whole lot of potting soil, but so far, so good. Long as I have Alexa at my side, it's always good.


Family

Name Relation Location Position
Alexa Twin Sister Igen Weyr Library-girl
Unimportant Bio-Mom Who cares Brownrider // not a mother
Random-Guy Bio-Dad Dunno/Dun care Greenrider

Firelizards

Don't Put That In Your Mouth Blue Foxglove

Totally Not Poisonous Green Larkspur


Dragon

Night Of The Comet Bronze Indaryth

Deep mahagony hues, rich with highlights of bronze and gold, give his hide the illusion of perpetual movement. Like aged bourbon, every roll of powerful muscle seems to possess a nuance one failed to noticed before. Coppery tones highlight the strong angles of a chiseled visage, lending a somewhat wicked aire to headknobs that end in a point rather then the more typical blunt affair. His head is long, the powerful muzzle sharply angled and complimented by the equally long, solid arch of his neck as it widens into starkly outlined flight muscles. Like the headknobs, his neckridges are exaggerated, knife-like protuberances that glisten with whorls of copper and bronze. The color darkens over the expanse of powerful legs and stomach, deepening to a worn shadow-kissed bronze so dark it makes the eyes ache for want of light. And, while that light comes in the form of sharply glittering talons of brass, there is no comfort to be found there. Both thick, and long, there is nothing of grace to be found in this form. Every where the eye lands speaks of power and might, of the arrogance put forth in motion even in repose. His wings, like the rest of him, are broad and powerful, the bourbon hued spars adorned with sails the color and texture of old, well-worn leather. Counter-balancing the sheer girth of this dragon stands a thick tail, the girthy length adorned with metallic ridges and ending in a broad, brass-kissed fork. Everything about him speaks of confidence, arrogance bespoken in the tilt of head and the drape of leathery wing across the bold expanse of his back. Power personified, he does not wait to be noticed. He knows you are looking and he revels in it.


Logs

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Gallery


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