Post by H-ness on Apr 1, 2010 23:43:21 GMT -5
Player: Ness
Character Number: 3
Name: Ivaron
Title/Rank: Wher Candidate/Former Sr. Apprentice Harper
Age: 18
Gender: Male
Sexual Orientation: Uncertain
Allegiance/Faction: Eridani Empire
Appearance:Tall and lanky at 6’2” and about 160 lbs, Ivaron doesn’t seem to have grown out of his boyish awkwardness quite yet, though one would hope that he would be well out of that stage by now. He’s got brown hair, which as he gets older, seems to have decided it’s going to get darker and tends to be combed back away from his face (his sisters used to tease that he spent as much time on his hair as they did, which isn’t totally true). His nose can best be described as ‘proud’ and is probably his most prominent feature. His eyes are a pretty normal shade of brown. They’re not amber, not klah coloured, and most definitely neither deep nor rich. They’re just plain, ordinary brown, a few shades darker than his hair and framed by short, fair lashes. None of those long, dark ones that maidens envy for him, which is probably just as well.
As a matter of fact, ordinary is probably a pretty good way to describe him overall. He’s not an overwhelmingly attractive man. His features are strong and regular, but that’s probably the best that can be said for them--there’s nothing that really makes him stand out, besides his height and long, awkward limbs. He’s moderately pale, with the unfortunate habit of burning rather than tanning within several minutes of exposure. During the summer, Ivaron tends towards being a nasty red, peeling mess, so rather than risk this, he prefers to stay indoors which can lead to a sort of pasty complexion.
Ivaron has a very serious face and smiles extremely rarely. His smile is nice, but sadly, it too is nothing really out of the ordinary. Just…nice. Pleasant, but not the sort of thing that will have men or women falling at his feet.
He’s most certainly not muscular, unless it’s in a lean way that translates to looking a bit like a noodle.
Personality: Ivaron tends towards being a bit…prim, though that’s not to say that he’s overwhelmingly polite. However, he has his moments of being temperamental in a carefully phrased way. Oh, to be sure, he’ll always stick to the social conventions and he addresses people extremely formally, but that doesn’t stop him from being blunt when the mood takes him. He can seem a bit frosty, which is to say, not particularly approachable, and a bit obsessively organized.
He’s a rather cynical, skeptical young man who seems to be rather lacking in the humour department. Oh, sure, he understands the concept of jokes, but when it comes to grasping the more subtle nuances of humour, he just can’t do it.
Ivaron avoids telling jokes altogether (he tends to think they’re rather pointless, probably because he doesn’t understand most of them) and most jokes told by other people go whizzing over his head, leaving him staring at the teller with a faint furrow between his brows and obvious air of bewilderment.
Socially, he prefers to be around females rather than males, mainly because he’s spent the larger part of his life with his sisters, with whom he’s closer than he’d like to admit and while he doesn’t claim to understand them, at least he sort of gets how to interact with them, and he’s definitely not, nor ever has been, a rough and tumble sort of young man.
Ivaron’s a bit awkward around people beyond the whole jokes issue, and really, really does not enjoy starting conversations. He’s not particularly outgoing, and possibly because of it, participating in conversations isn’t great either, mainly because he’s rather proud and is perpetually worried about not knowing the correct thing to say—by not knowing what to say, he runs the risk of embarrassing himself, and that would be a horrible thing. That said, Ivaron is extremely intelligent, with a knack for noticing things, and is a very practical young man. Matter-of-fact, he doesn’t spend much time with his head in the clouds (though admittedly he can be creative when the mood seizes him, and then he goes into an intense creative frenzy), preferring to be rooted firmly on Pern, thanks…which may be why he’s afraid of heights. He’s independent, competent and rather hard-headed.
He’s driven when he’s got a task to do, and as a general rule tends towards being rather impatient. He prefers to work in the background rather than being directly in charge of things, but that doesn’t mean that he doesn’t like to be recognized for the work he does. On the subject of work, he really dislikes physical labour—he simply wasn’t cut out for being a cotholder. He far prefers mental labour.
Ivaron is borderline musical, and has a little bit of Harper training in a few instruments (his singing voice is nothing much more than ordinary but he’s a fairly good musician) but he prefers writing prose tales rather than music.
History: Ivaron was born into a perfectly ordinary sort of family in an isolated cothold, as the youngest of five children, and the only boy. For some, this might have been torture. For him, it was just the way things were. He was the unexpected child—after producing three rather energetic, noisy girls, the last thing his parents were expecting when Jisava discovered that she was pregnant again (unexpected in itself five Turns after her last child) was a serious little boy. However, it was cause for celebration. Not that the cotholders DIDN’T love their daughters—they rather adored them, actually—but they would inevitably have to worry about marrying the girls off well, and a boy would be incredibly useful around the farm.
At least, a normal boy would have been. Ivaron was…not exactly normal. He was a serious baby, coddled by his enchanted older sisters, who grew into a serious child
The household was always rather loud, which is probably to be expected with five children, but Ivaron was never really a part of the noise. He preferred to withdraw from it all, into a book or just into his own thoughts. He endured being dressed up and dragged around by his sisters, and generally treated like a living toy, because he didn’t want to irritate them. From a wild, energetic family with its fair share of craziness, Ivaron was the quiet, solemn one. His parents always liked to tease that he was the most mature one of the children,
even though that was far from true—he just took things more seriously.
He didn’t have a lot of friends growing up because of his reserved nature, but that never bothered him. At ten Turns of age, when it became clear that the farming life really didn’t suit him, with his aversion to dirt and dislike of physical labour, his parents decided that he should be Apprenticed at Harper Hall. After all, the girls had proved to be better at this stuff than he had, and rather than making their son miserable, he might as well do something with himself and having a Harper in the family would be a bit of prestige for them.
However, by 16 Turns, even though Ivaron had made it to a Senior Apprentice and would probably walk the tables within the next two or three Turns, he decided that it was not what he wanted to do, and left the Harper Hall, returning home to the confusion of his parents.
It was a suitability thing—Ivaron was not a particularly social person, and while he was good with instruments and not bad at composing, he didn’t think he had the skills required to be anything more than a mediocre Harper.
With his sisters, all except the youngest, Eliane, married and producing families of their own in the area, all helping to run the little cothold, things were a lot different than the places where he had grown up. It seemed as though this wasn’t really his home anymore, either. After a few Turns of this, trying to readjust to the small-holder’s life and pondering whether he would have to get married too, Ivaron gave up and, much to his bemusement, ended up in Benden Weyr of all places. Admittedly, it was the Weyr closest to the smallhold, but really, considering he didn’t like dragons all that much, it was something of a mystery as to why he felt drawn there. He figured he could help keep the archives with his Harper Training, or…something of the sort. Ivaron decided he could make himself useful, and at least it would be a change from the hold. Perhaps he’d figure out what he could do with his life.
Character Number: 3
Name: Ivaron
Title/Rank: Wher Candidate/Former Sr. Apprentice Harper
Age: 18
Gender: Male
Sexual Orientation: Uncertain
Allegiance/Faction: Eridani Empire
Appearance:Tall and lanky at 6’2” and about 160 lbs, Ivaron doesn’t seem to have grown out of his boyish awkwardness quite yet, though one would hope that he would be well out of that stage by now. He’s got brown hair, which as he gets older, seems to have decided it’s going to get darker and tends to be combed back away from his face (his sisters used to tease that he spent as much time on his hair as they did, which isn’t totally true). His nose can best be described as ‘proud’ and is probably his most prominent feature. His eyes are a pretty normal shade of brown. They’re not amber, not klah coloured, and most definitely neither deep nor rich. They’re just plain, ordinary brown, a few shades darker than his hair and framed by short, fair lashes. None of those long, dark ones that maidens envy for him, which is probably just as well.
As a matter of fact, ordinary is probably a pretty good way to describe him overall. He’s not an overwhelmingly attractive man. His features are strong and regular, but that’s probably the best that can be said for them--there’s nothing that really makes him stand out, besides his height and long, awkward limbs. He’s moderately pale, with the unfortunate habit of burning rather than tanning within several minutes of exposure. During the summer, Ivaron tends towards being a nasty red, peeling mess, so rather than risk this, he prefers to stay indoors which can lead to a sort of pasty complexion.
Ivaron has a very serious face and smiles extremely rarely. His smile is nice, but sadly, it too is nothing really out of the ordinary. Just…nice. Pleasant, but not the sort of thing that will have men or women falling at his feet.
He’s most certainly not muscular, unless it’s in a lean way that translates to looking a bit like a noodle.
Personality: Ivaron tends towards being a bit…prim, though that’s not to say that he’s overwhelmingly polite. However, he has his moments of being temperamental in a carefully phrased way. Oh, to be sure, he’ll always stick to the social conventions and he addresses people extremely formally, but that doesn’t stop him from being blunt when the mood takes him. He can seem a bit frosty, which is to say, not particularly approachable, and a bit obsessively organized.
He’s a rather cynical, skeptical young man who seems to be rather lacking in the humour department. Oh, sure, he understands the concept of jokes, but when it comes to grasping the more subtle nuances of humour, he just can’t do it.
Ivaron avoids telling jokes altogether (he tends to think they’re rather pointless, probably because he doesn’t understand most of them) and most jokes told by other people go whizzing over his head, leaving him staring at the teller with a faint furrow between his brows and obvious air of bewilderment.
Socially, he prefers to be around females rather than males, mainly because he’s spent the larger part of his life with his sisters, with whom he’s closer than he’d like to admit and while he doesn’t claim to understand them, at least he sort of gets how to interact with them, and he’s definitely not, nor ever has been, a rough and tumble sort of young man.
Ivaron’s a bit awkward around people beyond the whole jokes issue, and really, really does not enjoy starting conversations. He’s not particularly outgoing, and possibly because of it, participating in conversations isn’t great either, mainly because he’s rather proud and is perpetually worried about not knowing the correct thing to say—by not knowing what to say, he runs the risk of embarrassing himself, and that would be a horrible thing. That said, Ivaron is extremely intelligent, with a knack for noticing things, and is a very practical young man. Matter-of-fact, he doesn’t spend much time with his head in the clouds (though admittedly he can be creative when the mood seizes him, and then he goes into an intense creative frenzy), preferring to be rooted firmly on Pern, thanks…which may be why he’s afraid of heights. He’s independent, competent and rather hard-headed.
He’s driven when he’s got a task to do, and as a general rule tends towards being rather impatient. He prefers to work in the background rather than being directly in charge of things, but that doesn’t mean that he doesn’t like to be recognized for the work he does. On the subject of work, he really dislikes physical labour—he simply wasn’t cut out for being a cotholder. He far prefers mental labour.
Ivaron is borderline musical, and has a little bit of Harper training in a few instruments (his singing voice is nothing much more than ordinary but he’s a fairly good musician) but he prefers writing prose tales rather than music.
History: Ivaron was born into a perfectly ordinary sort of family in an isolated cothold, as the youngest of five children, and the only boy. For some, this might have been torture. For him, it was just the way things were. He was the unexpected child—after producing three rather energetic, noisy girls, the last thing his parents were expecting when Jisava discovered that she was pregnant again (unexpected in itself five Turns after her last child) was a serious little boy. However, it was cause for celebration. Not that the cotholders DIDN’T love their daughters—they rather adored them, actually—but they would inevitably have to worry about marrying the girls off well, and a boy would be incredibly useful around the farm.
At least, a normal boy would have been. Ivaron was…not exactly normal. He was a serious baby, coddled by his enchanted older sisters, who grew into a serious child
The household was always rather loud, which is probably to be expected with five children, but Ivaron was never really a part of the noise. He preferred to withdraw from it all, into a book or just into his own thoughts. He endured being dressed up and dragged around by his sisters, and generally treated like a living toy, because he didn’t want to irritate them. From a wild, energetic family with its fair share of craziness, Ivaron was the quiet, solemn one. His parents always liked to tease that he was the most mature one of the children,
even though that was far from true—he just took things more seriously.
He didn’t have a lot of friends growing up because of his reserved nature, but that never bothered him. At ten Turns of age, when it became clear that the farming life really didn’t suit him, with his aversion to dirt and dislike of physical labour, his parents decided that he should be Apprenticed at Harper Hall. After all, the girls had proved to be better at this stuff than he had, and rather than making their son miserable, he might as well do something with himself and having a Harper in the family would be a bit of prestige for them.
However, by 16 Turns, even though Ivaron had made it to a Senior Apprentice and would probably walk the tables within the next two or three Turns, he decided that it was not what he wanted to do, and left the Harper Hall, returning home to the confusion of his parents.
It was a suitability thing—Ivaron was not a particularly social person, and while he was good with instruments and not bad at composing, he didn’t think he had the skills required to be anything more than a mediocre Harper.
With his sisters, all except the youngest, Eliane, married and producing families of their own in the area, all helping to run the little cothold, things were a lot different than the places where he had grown up. It seemed as though this wasn’t really his home anymore, either. After a few Turns of this, trying to readjust to the small-holder’s life and pondering whether he would have to get married too, Ivaron gave up and, much to his bemusement, ended up in Benden Weyr of all places. Admittedly, it was the Weyr closest to the smallhold, but really, considering he didn’t like dragons all that much, it was something of a mystery as to why he felt drawn there. He figured he could help keep the archives with his Harper Training, or…something of the sort. Ivaron decided he could make himself useful, and at least it would be a change from the hold. Perhaps he’d figure out what he could do with his life.