Arolos Weyr - E'yor

E'yor

User: cmsport2

Name Pronounced: EE-yor
Character type: Dragonrider
Rank: Wingrider
Age: 27
Gender: Male
Sexual Preference: Bisexual

Current Location:

Appearance: Dreary. To match his personality, E'yor’s appearance is exceedingly boring. Not just common, but actively uninteresting. His dark brown hair, bordering on black, is a limp collection of thin, thread-like hairs. He's going prematurely gray with a depressing mess of them sprinkled throughout. Not in an attractive salt and pepper look, but the unfortunate early aging of an otherwise strong body that is just pitiable. Without any care other than a routine scrub down and air dry, the strands just lay on his head in stringy disarray down to his shoulders. Similarly dark brown eyes reflect the lifeless glow of a life lived without much anticipation. Their dull, basic color constantly projects a vague disinterest in the events of the world. A broad forehead over a wide, round nose gives a definite draybeast quality to his long face and all the strength that accompanies the look of a working animal.

E'yor trudges through life with rounded shoulders and a posture that would make anybody with a shred of self-respect cringe. Despite the overall theme of rounded edges and unassuming features, there is quite a solid body underneath the gloom. A draybeast in face and physique. He is built for endurance and steady, brute force. While his flat-footed tread won’t be winning races any time soon, at least he won’t be winded by a day-long march. This is in large part thanks to a couple of his excitable half-siblings. It is by necessity that he developed the stamina to keep up with them when he had to, and avoid them when he chose to. There is a certain measure of pride to be had in building something with one’s own hands and E'yor finds it particularly satisfying to do so. Combined with his preference for hard and mindless physical labor has made him quite a burly fellow. Turns of slinging firestone and dragonriding has made him into a wall of immovable mass. For better or worse, he's also never lean and adds a soft layer of fat all over that no exercise diminishes. All that muscle is compacted into a medium height with E'yor standing at about 5’9. In short, he is a stout, moss-covered boulder of a man that wild runners couldn't budge.

Personality: Theme Song: "Good Riddance" - Green Day

E'yor goes through life in a perpetual state of low expectations and a contradicting sad, but optimistic world view. After all, things are so terrible that they can’t possibly get worse, which is a plus. He thinks so ill of people and events that if anything acts in a way that is anything but extremely subpar he is surprised. In nearly every moment of speech, he is able to twist words and actions around so thoroughly as to make everyone else sound as stupid to them as what they said appeared to him. He is frequently contrary with people just to confuse them and doesn’t consider a conversation successful until he has baffled the other person into idiotic submission. Anybody stating the obvious will be drily mocked until E'yor is satisfied that they’re sorry for wasting their words, and his time, on such meaningless sentences. His deep, smooth monotone is about as exciting to listen to as watching water boil. While flecks of surprise or pleasure are rarely to be heard, there is a sort of soothing steadiness to his mellow voice. In physical relationships, technically, E'yor is bisexual. It would be more appropriate to label him sexually indifferent. People are interchangeable on a daily basis and bedmates are no different. Just change a few parts around and a male gets the job done as much as a female. The real accomplishment is finding someone willing to put up with his dreary outlook long enough to find him desirable.

E'yor is so dismally gloomy for nearly every hour of every day that he has somehow transitioned into being adorable. But that’s not E'yor’s perception of himself, according to him; he doesn’t expect too much of himself (just like his low expectations of others) and therefore remains quiet for most of the time. That in no ways means he isn’t an intelligent young man, he is actually quite knowledgeable yet he confines his knowledge to himself. This is the reason why he is very quiet most of the time and a bit depressed. When bad things happen to him, E'yor just shrugs and goes on. The worst is always expected, so when it actually comes true he greets it with a resigned weariness. When he does speak, E'yor generally just spouts off whatever observations come to mind with little filter. To the casual listener, he can seem...off. His speech will be full of contradictions and constantly be bordering a random existential or nihilistic train of thought that constantly revolves through his mind.

E'yor has very little expectations from his friends and therefore wherever there is an occasion where his friends gather around to help him, his thoughts of receiving the worst are dismissed and he has an intense feeling of being grateful to them. Of course, becoming his friend in the first place is merely a matter of hanging around long enough that your presence is an expected part of his day. Generally speaking, if somebody can stand to be around E'yor’s gloominess for more than a few minutes, then they deserve to be called friends. In return, he shall often pretend that he is helping his friends in their time of need because he has nothing better to do but that in no way means he is unwilling to help. E'yor is always ready to lend a helping hand to his friends and has a special empathetic response to anyone who seems just as downtrodden as he is on a regular basis. Even his lively, or just befuddling, siblings can get a look at that side sometimes. Just because *he* is a gloomy soul, doesn’t mean anyone else has to be. A truly depressed person will always attempt to be cheered, usually by E'yor belittling things he’s done to make the other person seem more exceptional. He tends to think himself unworthy of being noticed by other people and never expects friends or strangers to care about him in any way. If he feels like others should know something about him and haven’t noticed on their own, he will drop very passive aggressive hints and then sarcastically commend the person for guessing what it is. A genuine show of interest in his well-being or a well-intentioned gift will always startle E'yor and will be appreciated, no matter how small the gesture. Extravagant exclamations of affections or grand presents are more likely to reverse the affect, bewildering the lad and assuming that there is something going on he’s not aware of. Probably something bad. It usually is.

There is a plus to all the grayness that is E'yor. While not entirely dependable, what with his ‘what’s the point’ attitude and penchant for wandering off to wallow in pessimism alone, once a person actually has E'yor focused on their task, he’ll work at it slowly and steadily and never be fazed by setbacks or delays. In the end, it may not be perfect work, but it *will* get done even if you have to stare at E'yor’s dismal mug the whole time. The ever-changing political and social landscape of Fort can be a startling thing, but anyone who knows him can count on E'yor to be the solid rock in any scenario. Just don’t expect that rock to shelter you from a physical storm. He will quietly accept physical punishment as his due and won’t bother to defend anyone else, except in extreme circumstances. The world is a terribly dark place and people should expect beatings so they won’t freak out when it inevitably happens. A true innocent, and we’re talking mostly children, the dragonless, and small animals will be exempt from this rule. Daveth, of course, is his ultimate innocent to be harbored and shielded.

History: Family: A’mil, father, Fortian brownrider

Meyahn, mother, a journeyman Beastcrafter, reassigned to Telgar Weyr

T'gaer, half-brother, greenrider from the same class

Rashkbit, half-brother

Poh, half-brother

Guffrel, half-brother

Kadee, half-sister

Auwol, half-brother

It’s amazing how the Weyr manages to throw all kinds of people together. Few people could have anticipated that the stocky woman with commonly limp brown hair constantly hanging around her face would ever come under the notice of a brownrider. And there wasn’t even a goldflight to excuse the set up. Later, Meyahn would blame alcohol on her lack of inhibitions. A’mil was rarely ashamed of any bedmate and wasn’t the least bit put off by the Beastcrafter’s blunt, but respectful, behavior and homely appearance. A very brief affair and nine months later, a solid little boy was born to the pair.

Dedicated to her Craft, Meyahn should never have been a parent. As soon as the baby was in the crèche, the young woman promptly ignored his existence and returned full focus to her duties. The idea of being guilty for abandoning Aemyorn to the mass of weyrbrats never occurred to her. Her job was merely to see another strong male given to the Weyr. Having done that, she felt that nothing else was owed the little boy growing up without a mental image of his birthmother. Afterall, she’d given him life, right? What more could he want? Luckily, the prolific brownrider that sired him was a more interested party in the lad’s development. A’mil was one of the few riders that took active roles in his offsprings’ lives and routinely added another half-sibling for them all to keep each other company.

Poor, little Aemyorn had the worst luck with fostermothers, however. They never seemed to last more than a few Turns. The first one was a delightful ray of sunshine that coddled the boy and managed to dote on Aemyorn, even with three other children of her own. Her love of children took a turn for the worse when a fifth child’s birth killed her and the baby, too. The second woman was a fiery Kitchenworker that inflicted harsh disciplines on her charges. It turned out that she was also a Resistance member and was embroiled in a plot that led to her eventual disappearance. The third was a gentle, older woman that had fostered so many weyrbrats over the Turns that her hair was grey. Still, she maintained a peaceful environment for the few Turns that Aemyorn was with her. During a harsh winter, the woman caught a flu that was going around and decades of a poor immunity resulted in her death. The remaining three Turns before Aemyorn was eligible for Candidacy were spent in a relative vacuum of friends. Without the constant presence of one sibling or another, Aemyorn would have been a lonely soul, indeed.

The day he turned 12 the lad immediately presented himself to the Candidate Master and took his rightful place in the Barracks with the other weyrbred boys. Nothing exciting happened to Aemyorn. Nothing ever did. He was just one more boy half-hoping to be chosen by a dragon like their bloodline suggested they should, and all the while certain that it would never be. Luck was rarely on Aemyorn's side. Why should the dragons notice him any more than the boys in the Barracks?

It seems at least one noticed him. More than noticed, little blue Daveth bowled him over in his excitement to get to his 'prize.' The accident prone, but eternally optimistic, dragon would appear an opposite to his rider. However, even though they take different routes, they always seem to wind up at the same conclusion.

As E'yor always knew it would, the dung hit the fan. Fort went horribly wrong. The bluerider knew when to cut bait and run. He transferred to High Reaches with T'gaer in the nick of time. Not that tragedy mattered much to him. It was expected. High Reaches was fine, or whatever. Didn't matter to E'yor, he did his duty, flew Fall, and Daveth never wanted for anything. Turns and Turns later, E'yor heard about Arolos going through more awful dung and got the notion that maybe the woebegone Weyr was actually a good idea. After all, horribly unpredictable stuff kept predictably happening there. For the nihilistic now adult, knowing tragedy was definitely going to happen was somehow reassuring. He put in a transfer. Everyone wondered why someone would do such a thing and then realized, yeah, that is an E'yor thing to do. So, he went. Because, why not?

Information about E'yor's pets

Pet Name: Con

Pet Type: Feline

Appearance: This boy well he is either white with lots of black, or black with lots of white, but which it is, well that is up for debate. He is really more patchy then his dame as there really isn’t any one place on him that could speak to his ‘main’ colour. In truth trying to figure out would almost be as hard as trying to figure out if a zebra is black with their stripes or white with black stripes. However it is his bright green eyes that really make him stand out even more being the only one of the litter to hold such eyes.

Personality: You want a contradiction? Well you’ve got one weather you do or not. This boy loves the water in all its forms, right up until it is bath time. He loves to hunt tunnel snakes, until you point one out to him. He likes to sleep at your feet unless of course you want him there. He has no lost love for dragons that is until you want to try and put him on one, then you better put him in your shirt or coat first because he is not going to be a happy boy. In short he really is the typical feline: he’ll do what he wants when he wants and good luck trying to change him.

Information about E'yor's dragon

Dragon Name: Daveth

Colour: Blue

Age: 12

Wing (Weyrling Group):

Appearance: Daveth is a nice looking dragon. His features are well in proportion and he just
looks friendly. He is a pleasant shade of middle blue, with smudges of darker
blue over his hide, like someone has smeared dirt on him. No matter how much his
rider scrubs him, Daveth will always look grubby.

Personality: Some dragons are just born lucky. Daveth is not.

From the moment Daveth leaves his egg, things will not go right for him; he will
trip over everything, lose anything he tries to keep and generally never get
anything quite right. Somehow though he is not bitter about all the bad luck
that follows him around. No, Daveth is a ‘glass half full’ dragon, always
looking on the positive side of everything. There are some hard times ahead of all of us and we are stronger for helping a neighbor out rather than trying to survive as an individual. Daveth will strive to simply help at all times and point out the bright side whenever a comrade is feeling down. "The world is tough, but we can make it through together!" is the blue's motto.

The thing is that Daveth is actually quite smart, and despite his abysmal luck
he still has good ideas to share and that might earn him back some respect. At
least until the next time he fouls up a drill for himself and everyone around
him.

Besides his abominable luck, Daveth has a distinct obsession with saving things -specifically, food. He will entreat his lifemate to bring a hide with them to meals so he can save the scraps for later. If it should happen to stink up his wallow, he'll bemoan the fact that it is perfectly good food when someone goes to throw it away. Anything that can be used, should be saved, no matter its deteriorated state. Bits of string, a piece of wire, an unclaimed and chipped button - all are gold to the saving blue.

The Inspiration for Daveth: The Great Depression

Dam: Alioth
Sire: Gehenth
Class Name: PrizeQuestors

Pronounciation: Dah-veth, or Dah-vee (Davy, being a nickname), but not DAVE-th

Weyr of Origin: Fort

Abilites and weaknesses: Clumsy as all get out. No matter how much he trips, stumbles, and bumbles his way through everything, Daveth always seems to escape permanent injury and death in the end. He gets into accidents, accumulates scars and injuries, but still claws his way ever onwards.

The Dragonriders of Pern® is registered U.S. Patent and Trademark Office, by Anne McCaffrey, used here with permission. Use or reproduction without a license is strictly prohibited.