Post by Opheila and Ryath on Dec 31, 2010 2:16:36 GMT -7
OOC account: Wren
Other Characters: None
Character Name: Opheila
Age: 57
Gender: Female
Sexuality: Heterosexual
Location & Rank: Lyralon Weyr
Description: Opheila has always been quite a short but robust woman, with big hips and big breasts. Now, increasing age, an abundance of food, and the effects of carrying five children have left her distinctly plump, fat even, if you cared to be impolite about it. She’s not unhealthily obese by any means, but she does have a certain rotund shape, with a good deal of fat on her thighs and bottom. There are some who say, though, that neomg overweight suits Opheila's jovial nature, and they cannot imagine her any other way.
Her face is round and good-natured, the full cheeks having not yielded to as many wrinkles as you might expect for her age. Those lines she does have are mostly around her warm brown eyes and small mouth, smile lines, more than anything else, indicative of a life spent in good humour. She has a small, button nose, and fairly unremarkable ears, which are hidden by her long, naturally wavy hair. Her hair was once dark mahogany, complementary against her light brown skin, but these days it’s shot through with grey, particularly at the roots.
In general, Opheila likes to present herself to the world as best she can: she makes sure her hair is always in good order and wears clothes flattering to her physique, but she’s not a vain woman. Most of the time she’s a happy and cheerful person, always trying to keep people in good spirits, but she does have the intelligence and guile to rule, and rule well. Now she’s getting old and rather tired, and looks forward to the day when she can retire in peace, knowing that the Weyr is in good, capable hands.
History: Opheila was born in the Weyr to a greenrider and a visiting craftsman that greenrider had a one-night-stand with. Needless to say, her father played no part at all in her life, and may well have no idea that the weyrwoman is related to him, much less his daughter, if he's even still alive, that is. Nevertheless, Opheila grew up happy with her mother and her mother’s dragon, and her early years were spent either in their personal weyr, or in the crèche with the other weyrbrats.
She always knew that she wanted to be a rider, her mother's green ensured that, and so she became a candidate when the senior gold at the time rose. She did not Impress on her first go round, nor on the second, but on the third she found herself bonded to a gold, Ryath. After that there was training, which was a bit different for this pair as they were being trained to one day rule the Weyr.
Even while they were still junior, Opheila and Ryath proved themselves to be capable leaders. Opeila was very good at keeping up the morale of the Weyr’s occupants, and had the gift of great organisation skills, so she was always good at managing the Weyr’s internal affairs. Ryath, for her part, proved good at getting the other dragons in line, and yet was not the over-dominant, aggressive gold that got snappy with anyone who looked at her. She also proved useful from the viewpoint of clutches; she always produced large ones, though in fairness the ratio of high colours to low colours in her clutches was always quite low.
During this time, Opheila was busy becoming a mother herself. She never settled with any one man, Ryath was all the stability she needed, nor did she sleep around, but dragon flights will have their effects, and in Opheila’s case, those effects were five children, all of them daughters. Opheila loved her children dearly, and raised them as best she could. Two have now become greenriders, one went to the Hold to get a wher, one was a candidate that never Impressed and now unofficially helps her mother and the youngest still stays at home.
After some time, the senior weyrwoman retired and Opheila stepped up to take the role. She took a particular interest in Pern’s firelizards and whers, as they were the duty of the riders now, and took meticulous records about where each egg was sent and what hatched of it. She also had the usual duties of a weyrwoman, and while she found these a handful at first, she’d been well trained and quickly adjusted. She has kept the position to this day, though now she grows weary and looks forward to having a successor, so that she and Ryath, who may well be on her last clutch, can retire in peace.
Other Info:
For Dragonriders:
Dragon Name: Ryath
Dragon Age: 40
Color: Gold - #FFEE99
Sample - The Beginning of the Clutching:
Other Characters: None
Character Name: Opheila
Age: 57
Gender: Female
Sexuality: Heterosexual
Location & Rank: Lyralon Weyr
Description: Opheila has always been quite a short but robust woman, with big hips and big breasts. Now, increasing age, an abundance of food, and the effects of carrying five children have left her distinctly plump, fat even, if you cared to be impolite about it. She’s not unhealthily obese by any means, but she does have a certain rotund shape, with a good deal of fat on her thighs and bottom. There are some who say, though, that neomg overweight suits Opheila's jovial nature, and they cannot imagine her any other way.
Her face is round and good-natured, the full cheeks having not yielded to as many wrinkles as you might expect for her age. Those lines she does have are mostly around her warm brown eyes and small mouth, smile lines, more than anything else, indicative of a life spent in good humour. She has a small, button nose, and fairly unremarkable ears, which are hidden by her long, naturally wavy hair. Her hair was once dark mahogany, complementary against her light brown skin, but these days it’s shot through with grey, particularly at the roots.
In general, Opheila likes to present herself to the world as best she can: she makes sure her hair is always in good order and wears clothes flattering to her physique, but she’s not a vain woman. Most of the time she’s a happy and cheerful person, always trying to keep people in good spirits, but she does have the intelligence and guile to rule, and rule well. Now she’s getting old and rather tired, and looks forward to the day when she can retire in peace, knowing that the Weyr is in good, capable hands.
History: Opheila was born in the Weyr to a greenrider and a visiting craftsman that greenrider had a one-night-stand with. Needless to say, her father played no part at all in her life, and may well have no idea that the weyrwoman is related to him, much less his daughter, if he's even still alive, that is. Nevertheless, Opheila grew up happy with her mother and her mother’s dragon, and her early years were spent either in their personal weyr, or in the crèche with the other weyrbrats.
She always knew that she wanted to be a rider, her mother's green ensured that, and so she became a candidate when the senior gold at the time rose. She did not Impress on her first go round, nor on the second, but on the third she found herself bonded to a gold, Ryath. After that there was training, which was a bit different for this pair as they were being trained to one day rule the Weyr.
Even while they were still junior, Opheila and Ryath proved themselves to be capable leaders. Opeila was very good at keeping up the morale of the Weyr’s occupants, and had the gift of great organisation skills, so she was always good at managing the Weyr’s internal affairs. Ryath, for her part, proved good at getting the other dragons in line, and yet was not the over-dominant, aggressive gold that got snappy with anyone who looked at her. She also proved useful from the viewpoint of clutches; she always produced large ones, though in fairness the ratio of high colours to low colours in her clutches was always quite low.
During this time, Opheila was busy becoming a mother herself. She never settled with any one man, Ryath was all the stability she needed, nor did she sleep around, but dragon flights will have their effects, and in Opheila’s case, those effects were five children, all of them daughters. Opheila loved her children dearly, and raised them as best she could. Two have now become greenriders, one went to the Hold to get a wher, one was a candidate that never Impressed and now unofficially helps her mother and the youngest still stays at home.
After some time, the senior weyrwoman retired and Opheila stepped up to take the role. She took a particular interest in Pern’s firelizards and whers, as they were the duty of the riders now, and took meticulous records about where each egg was sent and what hatched of it. She also had the usual duties of a weyrwoman, and while she found these a handful at first, she’d been well trained and quickly adjusted. She has kept the position to this day, though now she grows weary and looks forward to having a successor, so that she and Ryath, who may well be on her last clutch, can retire in peace.
Other Info:
For Dragonriders:
Dragon Name: Ryath
Dragon Age: 40
Color: Gold - #FFEE99
Sample - The Beginning of the Clutching:
It was a pleasantly cool early evening, and looking out of her personal weyr, Opheila could see the sun hovering just above the horizon. She looked for too long though, and when she looked back to the letter she was trying to write, it was marred by black, insubstantial spots swam in front of her vision. She sighed, more out of tiredness than any real distress, and put the letter away; she had to be very careful about what she said in this letter, and she would be in a better mindset to write it tomorrow, after a good night’s sleep. She was not quite ready for bed yet though, and instead considered sending out a messenger for her daughters to come and dine with her.
Before she could pull the bell for the drudges though, a grunt and snort drew her attention. She turned to see Ryath struggling out of sleep, the gold's sides belling out as she yawned and her eyes cracking open. Ryath had been doing very little but sleeping and eating these last few weeks, something Opheila attributed to the demands of the clutch growing inside her. True, Ryath was not usually affected this much, but she was getting old now, wasn’t she? As old and tired as Opheila herself.
The greying queen tipped her head to the side a little, then got slowly and carefully to her feet. She looked lumpy and misshapen with all the eggs inside her, and she seemed to think so herself. She peered down at her belly, then let off a great huff of breath in a sigh. She had not been expected to clutch for a day or two, but she'd reached the end of endurance and could bare the strain of carrying them no longer. It was not exceptionally early, at any rate. C’mon then, Opheila dearest, let’s get this burden out of me and onto the Sands.
She held out a leg to the weyrwoman, and Opheila gave a smile, a smile full of all the love and affection she held for the great beast, as well as her pride. She clambered up the offered leg and onto the dragon’s back in a motion that was practiced if not exactly graceful, and sat, not bothering to strap herself in for the short flight. Ryath shuffled awkwardly to the opening of their private weyr, and, with a grunt of effort, spread her wings and pushed herself into the air. She glided rather than really flew, her distended belly making her clumsy and unwieldy in the air as no dragon should be, but she landed at the entrance of the hatching Sands gently enough. Opheila clambered off at this point, having learned from experience that Ryath required no interference as she clutched.
After watching her rider settle in her customary seat, Ryath waddled to the centre of the room and lay down gratefully on the warm sand. Her sides tensed suddenly, and she closed her eyes tight as a contraction rippled through her. Another came, and she felt something slip out of her: the first egg was laid. In a practiced motion she turned and scooped a little sand around its glistening shell, then lay down waiting for the next one; the clutching at Lyralon Weyr had begun.
Before she could pull the bell for the drudges though, a grunt and snort drew her attention. She turned to see Ryath struggling out of sleep, the gold's sides belling out as she yawned and her eyes cracking open. Ryath had been doing very little but sleeping and eating these last few weeks, something Opheila attributed to the demands of the clutch growing inside her. True, Ryath was not usually affected this much, but she was getting old now, wasn’t she? As old and tired as Opheila herself.
The greying queen tipped her head to the side a little, then got slowly and carefully to her feet. She looked lumpy and misshapen with all the eggs inside her, and she seemed to think so herself. She peered down at her belly, then let off a great huff of breath in a sigh. She had not been expected to clutch for a day or two, but she'd reached the end of endurance and could bare the strain of carrying them no longer. It was not exceptionally early, at any rate. C’mon then, Opheila dearest, let’s get this burden out of me and onto the Sands.
She held out a leg to the weyrwoman, and Opheila gave a smile, a smile full of all the love and affection she held for the great beast, as well as her pride. She clambered up the offered leg and onto the dragon’s back in a motion that was practiced if not exactly graceful, and sat, not bothering to strap herself in for the short flight. Ryath shuffled awkwardly to the opening of their private weyr, and, with a grunt of effort, spread her wings and pushed herself into the air. She glided rather than really flew, her distended belly making her clumsy and unwieldy in the air as no dragon should be, but she landed at the entrance of the hatching Sands gently enough. Opheila clambered off at this point, having learned from experience that Ryath required no interference as she clutched.
After watching her rider settle in her customary seat, Ryath waddled to the centre of the room and lay down gratefully on the warm sand. Her sides tensed suddenly, and she closed her eyes tight as a contraction rippled through her. Another came, and she felt something slip out of her: the first egg was laid. In a practiced motion she turned and scooped a little sand around its glistening shell, then lay down waiting for the next one; the clutching at Lyralon Weyr had begun.
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