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Irdinor; Drudge, High Reaches Weyr
Topic Started: 9 Mar 2010, 02:04 PM (218 Views)
akusma
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General Information
Character Name: Irdinor [ ear – di - nor ] (Nor)
Player Name: akusma
Gender: Male
Age: Nineteen Turns [ born turn 434 ]
Rank: Drudge

Character Information
Appearance:
HAIR: An unimaginative shade of light brown, with a hair cut that barely counts as a hair cut, more like it's left to grow as long as it likes.
EYES: Dark grey and positively boring.
DISTINGUISHING MARKS: There's a rather nice looking scar running over his right hip - roughly going from his side where his hip meets his waist, and continuing around and down for a few inches. Nasty fall as a from a tree onto another branch. Plus his hands are often spotted with a few that fade easily, from guitar strings and such.

FULL APPEARANCE: Well...He's not incredibly tall, only standing at five foot four, or incredibly well sculpted, or really all that nice to look at body wise. He's all legs and arms, limbs rather then torso - and while they're great legs, they don't really come in handy all that often since he doesn't run, or walk, anywhere very often. Which is why Nor's out of shape. Not that much out of shape, obviously. Being a drudge usually means that he's sent all over the Weyr, when he can be woken up long enough for him to be told to actually do anything. He can run for a bit, it's just that he isn't so utterly toned you can see the muscles. He's too thin for that. Yes, Irdinor's lean, not all that muscular. Nothing else would really suit him. He's also not tanned. He spends most of his time indoors, why would he be? But that doesn't matter much to Nor either. Nothing much matters. It's the reason he wears mix matched clothes, often too big for him. No one's looking, after all.

His face is most likely his only redeeming feature. Framed by hair that has a habit of sticking out in short clumps over the sides of his face (and out the back and around the sides, sometimes, it depends on it he's slept with it wet) it's not so much 'chiselled' as...well...Average. Oh, I suppose you could call it nice to look at, with his rather large grey eyes and smallish nose and lips, but it's not exactly striking, is it? It's not long enough, not wide enough to be striking, with features that aren't prominent or refined enough to be handsome.

Personality:
LIKES •
- Peace and quiet
- Company, he just doesn't actively seek it out.
- People, despite what you'd be led to believe.
- Warmth, he's a sucker for a fur blanket and a warm drink.
- Spiced wine, especially on cold nights.
- Bets, after all, he remembers to feed the guy.
- His sisters
- Sleep, and lots of it.
- Fire
- Dragons
DISLIKES •
- Loud noises
- Arrogant people
- Being trapped
- Tight spaces
- Fire-lizards, they eat the strangest things.
- People who try and disturb him.
- Harpers, he's not a fan of music.
- Klah, he doesn't like the taste.
- Cold, which also includes ice, snow, rain, night time...
- The dark, childish, but true.
STRENGTHS •
- Trusting
- Patient
- Intelligent
- Kind
- Good memory
WEAKNESSES •
- Quiet
- Uninteresting
- Subservient
- Easy to manipulate
- Lethargic and slightly narcoleptic
FEARS •
- Being lost
- Getting trapped under ice...or just being trapped in water, to be frank
- Frostbite
GOALS •
- Survive
- Impress to a dragon, because at least then he'll make his sister happy
FULL PERSONALITY: Irdinor? Well...You know...He's a little...Who is he? That's what people would say if you asked them about him. He blends in with everything. No one remembers him. Why should they? He's hardly outgoing. He keeps to himself, doesn't cause any trouble. It's almost boring. Where's the spice? Where's the life in him? It might be there, he just hasn't got the energy to actually do anything with it. There's no motivation, and he'd rather just sit there or sleep all day. Really. He's like a walking bomb, only when the timer runs out he's more likely to just fall asleep. It might not actually be down to being narcoleptic, it might just be that he's a lazy git who doesn't want to do anything. Either way, he might simply fall asleep in a corner.

He's quiet to the point where most people think he can't actually speak – but then why would he be a candidate? No, Irdinor can speak, he just chooses not to half the time he's around people, and the rest of the time he's still quiet enough that people tend to ignore him in favour of someone else. He doesn't mind that, why should he? He's perfectly content to sit there in his own little world, with his rat, and daydream all by himself. The guy's patient enough that he'd continue waiting till the end of time for something. Which isn't always a good thing, you know. Sometimes it means that instead of following things up, or talking to people that have promised him something, he'll just wait for it. Often it means nothing actually happens, and he looses more prospective friends because of that then anything else. Irdinor's quietness can often be mistaken for arrogance. An arrogance he doesn't have. There's not an arrogant bone in his body. He just doesn't talk all that much.

When he does speak he's rather poetic. Despite not really being that much of a physical person, and lazy, his mind is active enough to be rather clever, and he uses most of that intelligence to be creative. Nor's got a knack for coming up with short, pretty verses instead of actually speaking to people. Trust him. He might have been able to make a living out of it if he'd tried, or become a harper if he didn't have a dislike for the people. He doesn't like music. Any form of music he hates, whether it's with or without lyrics. He just...Doesn't like the stuff. It's either too happy, or too sad, too loud, too soft, not enough tempo, too much tempo, not enough instruments, too many, no diversity, too much, too many changes – well, you get the idea.
History:
PARENTS :
I'dn, Father – Rider, Blue Listh “a sweeter man there must be, for this one has none but a bitter taste”
Lorn, Mother – Rider, Green Hyth “had she been another person, perhaps the sour might not have stung”
SIBLINGS:
Nonoa, Half-Sister (younger, 18) – Holder, “what a shame it is, to see such fleeting beauty stand”
Tris, Half-Sister (younger, 15) – Drudge/Weyrbrat, “a face that can be but compared to a rose”
LOVER/WEYRMATE/HANDFASTENED: None
SIGNIFICANT OTHERS: Brandon, Half-Brother-in-Law – Holder, “what can you call coal, but coal?”

FULLHISTORY: If it hadn't been for the fact that both his parents were interested in the opposite sex, he might just have been okay. Just. Instead, he was stuck with a father who hated his existence, and a mother who gave him away to be fostered at the first opportunity. That didn't stop them from trying to make him become a dragonrider. When they thought the other wasn't looking, they pulled him away from the caverns at every opportunity to tell him of the wonders of Impressing. He fell asleep on his mother twice, and as soon as his father realised that he didn't actually care all that much he was left alone by him. His mother didn't stop though... At least for a while until he started avoiding her. She got the picture then. He was eight Turns old when he lost contact with his father – or rather when the man decided that his twenty or so lovers commanded his attention more then his son. It wasn't the best childhood, but it was his, and he can't be bothered to remember half of it. But his mother's attention to detail made him try just that little harder to remember some things.

Irdinor's oldest little sister was born when he was seven Turns, and she was dumped with the same woman that he was dumped with. His mother's Green had finally chosen a male ridden Blue and once again she couldn't bare to go between to get rid of it. So he was stuck with her. When Nonoa was first presented to him he just stared at her until she started crying because she was only child and she did want something to eat. Nor didn't take to her from the beginning – shards, he had very little to actually do with her. She smelt funny, she was only half his sister, and she cried a lot. What did he want with something like that? So he just sort of...gingerly held her when told to, and ignored her the rest of the time. Until she was three, of course, and another sister popped out of the blue. This time, it was his father who dumped the girl on him. Turns out that Listh had managed to catch a female ridden Green again, and that she'd decided to give the child to him, thinking it would be a good idea.

At that point some of the other drudges all but ordered him to look after the girl whom they later named Tis (his father hadn't been interested enough to name her) and he quietly obeyed. Nonoa came into her own from that moment on, and it turned out she was actually quite snappy, controlling, and...strong. Perhaps because there was no one else to be strong in the family. Yes, family. The three of them became a family, raised more by themselves and each other then the foster mothers, though the ladies did try their hardest.

By the time Nonoa was thirteen she'd taken an interest in herding, or the breeding aspect – stop that train of thought right there. She was more interested in the genetics then what you're thinking, dirty minded people. But anyway, since there weren't herdbeasts for her to train on, she picked rats. Rats that eventually started sporting patterns and colours, larger ears, longer tails. She picked out the certain traits she wanted, bred them in, and gain tons of knowledge. Not that Irdinor really appreciated that at all. He woke up to find more then a few rats in his bed. He wasn't what you'd call fond of them. Strange, then, how he ended up keeping one on his sister's insistence that he should. That's how Bets came into the picture. That was when Nonoa was seventeen. Old enough to marry. Sure enough, she caught someone's eye.

Brandon was a simple holder, couldn't offer much, but that wasn't why the girl liked him. They got along well, fell in love, married. A fairy tale ending for her, but not for the other two. She left, insisting that Irdinor keep Bets, let the others go loose in the Weyr - “They'll die in the cold, please don't let them get loose outside.” - look after Tris and Impress a dragon. The last one had been a surprise to him. His sister hadn't been badged to become a dragonrider like he had. In fact, she'd barely had any contact with dragonriders. They were there, but the three of them had never bothered with them after the parents left them all alone. But he agreed, hesitating, because it was what she wanted. He went to a Search dragon, asked to be searched, and it was said that yes, he could stand. So...He just sort of...Slipped into the candidates barracks and blended in like always. Yes...Of course, after Modosth's last clutch hatched and went, leaving the dragons to fight thread without even turning one, he slipped back into the drudge department again. Ignored by basically everyone. But that was three Turns ago. Not that he's ever gone back to being a candidate. No one's asked him. No one ever asked about his parents, either. Not even him. They sort of...dropped off the radar about the time Thread first arrived. Not that he minds. They're better off dead, if he's honest.

Pets:
Posted Image
Bets
male, 7 months
Bets is a pink eyed solid silver fawn, dumbo, buck rat. Or a rather orange rat with red eyes and big ears to the rest of us. He's a lazy fat lump who doesn't do much but eat, sleep and occasionally pee all over something. He loves nothing more then to curl up in Irdinor's pocket and go to sleep. There might even be a treat in there.
Edited by akusma, 13 Mar 2010, 04:44 AM.
Posted Image Posted Image

rider z'yl and blue bath with green two & three [#2a1dde]
drudge irdinor with rat bets
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