Post by Gliese on Jun 12, 2008 19:24:41 GMT -5
Name: Nove
Age: Seventeen
Rank: Lower caverns worker, hopeful Candidate
Gender: Female
Sexuality: Uncertain; considers herself heterosexual but occasionally has bisexual tendencies and urges
Appearance: At five feet, two inches, Nove is well-proportioned, with all the appropriate limbs and curves in all the appropriate places - though she is still a bit stocky. She is slightly too broad around the torso - ah, but only a little! - and her legs are slightly too short for her body - just by an inch! - and her arms slightly too muscular - oh, how unbecoming! - all adding up to a shape that is without doubt too robust to be considered 'delicate' or 'feminine'. Her sturdy figure attests to a strength not often seen in girls, and often she willingly forgoes kitchen duties to lug about crates and supplies in the lower storerooms, or bring in provisions from incoming tithe trains.
Although she is not strikingly attractive, Nove possesses a certain vitality that lights her wholesome, pleasant features. Her eyes, a clear slate blue, are large and bright, and - to her perpetual consternation - her nose, slender and pert, turns upward at the end. Her lips are full and her cheeks dimple endearingly when she smiles, and her fair skin (constantly burning during Rukbat's summer heat) is spackled with freckles. Though she conscientiously, and insistently, refer to her short-cropped, frustratingly straight hair as 'auburn', it is most certainly a dull, mousy brown: the swilling waters left in the sink after dish clean up, or a cool cup of klah with too much milk poured in.
Personality: Fiercely forthright, Nove is honest and impetuous and wholly unafraid to speak her mind, sometimes to the point of impoliteness. Doing something improperly? She'll gladly interject to show you the correct way, and Faranth forbid you forget and need telling a second time. In her way? Ah, not any more, though you're left with a sore shoulder from where she pushed by if you didn't hear the first time she asked for you to move. Moping about or looking for unwarranted sympathy in her line of sight? Watch out, you'll get an earful - she's got little or no patience for anyone who can't work out their own issues on their own time.
When she's not bossing about the lower caverns, and often even when she is, she's driven by vivacious spirit that inevitably spills over into her everyday activities and manners. Nove is lively and spirited, and while perhaps not terribly tactful - which is, ah, an understatement to say the least - she is genuinely well-meaning and usually ready to lend a hand, proving she's not currently tasked at the moment. Nove is quick to smile and quicker to laugh; she finds a great joy in many little things, and the best in most people (that is, as long as they're not completely inept, which by her standards could mean a rather broad spectrum of people) but fully expects one and all to do their duty and do it competently. What's the sense of doing something if you aren't intending to give it your all?
History: Born to a tediously bureaucratic father, a minor cotholder just outside Danac Hold's protective constituency, and a raucous, ineffectively imperious mother, who insisted ceaselessly she married below her station and should've been a Lady Holder "at the very least", Nove had little joy and many, many chores through her early life. Though not an unhappy childhood - while high-handed and overbearing, it would be a lie to say her mother was unloving - it was surely a dull one. What little entertainment she found was in the form of her younger brother, Dekelvai, who provided an endless source of amusement. As was her right as a big sister, she teased him relentlessly on any variety of subjects - to his shrill, vain protests - and slipped a colourful assortment of creepy-crawlies into his bed at night, delighting in the resulting yelps and shouts that resulted.
Through the years, as her teasings and pranks gradually grew less and less frequent, and the pair grew to be honest friends, and genuinely loving siblings. The more diplomatic Kel would step in to intervene on his sister's behalf when she'd ruffled one feather too many, and for her part she pulled him along on the most exciting adventures.
But a cramped minor cothold could hold Nove's spirit for only so long; and though her brother was more subdued, both Dekelvai and Nove came to struggle and chafe under the dreary, monotonous lifestyle of a holder. The never-ending droning on about seeding and moon cycles and reaping seasons and yield weight nearly bored them to tears, and as neither of them were firstborn, the promise of inheriting the cothold was slim. It came to be that, night after night, the pair would huddle together and whisper plans of being whisked away to the Weyr, where they would both Impress to incredible, mysterious dragons and fight Thread, protecting all of Pern from that so-deadly threat!
But idle dreams and fancies were just that - whimsy and fantasies. There were still crops to harvest, herdbeasts to tend, ovines to shear. It wasn't until Nove had a particularly strident and upsetting confrontation with her mother, who pleaded day after day with the girl to be more decorous, that one day she might marry into a nice family and settle down and be a proper woman, that the girl had had enough. Sweeping together her scant belongings while the cothold slept, she snuck out into the night, escaping to the only place she could imagine would take in a strong, willing able body - Nyocia. She didn't count on Dekelvai slipping out after her, with his own rucksack of belongings, but she couldn't refuse her beloved little brother. He followed, her bottomless well of support and admiration, despite her vague misgivings.
It was so that she came to the Weyr at fifteen Turns: not as a Candidate, but as a straggling runaway with her scruffy, timorous brother in tow. Managing to talk her way into the Headwoman's office, she convinced and wheedled and persuaded their way into a position as lower caverns workers. To be at least near the great, fantastic beasts was better than nothing, right? And even, maybe, they could become one of those lucky few…?
Now, after two Turns at the Weyr, they have settled comfortably into this new life, even enjoying the arrangement, trusting that the right moment will come that will open the door to Candidacy - that marvellously, naively idealized life of seamless happiness and effortless labour.
Pets: Nove has Impressed one barred fire-lizard, Zunni, after poking her head into the room to see Lilac's clutch hatch - "just for a peek at the little babies". Zunni is still young - just newly hatched, in fact - and has yet to show much more initiative than demanding to be fed or oiled.
Password: Smelly old people! No, wait, uh… Foxes in boxes! … Er, Pretty please? Oh, shucks, hang on, I've got this one…! Needlethorn
Age: Seventeen
Rank: Lower caverns worker, hopeful Candidate
Gender: Female
Sexuality: Uncertain; considers herself heterosexual but occasionally has bisexual tendencies and urges
Appearance: At five feet, two inches, Nove is well-proportioned, with all the appropriate limbs and curves in all the appropriate places - though she is still a bit stocky. She is slightly too broad around the torso - ah, but only a little! - and her legs are slightly too short for her body - just by an inch! - and her arms slightly too muscular - oh, how unbecoming! - all adding up to a shape that is without doubt too robust to be considered 'delicate' or 'feminine'. Her sturdy figure attests to a strength not often seen in girls, and often she willingly forgoes kitchen duties to lug about crates and supplies in the lower storerooms, or bring in provisions from incoming tithe trains.
Although she is not strikingly attractive, Nove possesses a certain vitality that lights her wholesome, pleasant features. Her eyes, a clear slate blue, are large and bright, and - to her perpetual consternation - her nose, slender and pert, turns upward at the end. Her lips are full and her cheeks dimple endearingly when she smiles, and her fair skin (constantly burning during Rukbat's summer heat) is spackled with freckles. Though she conscientiously, and insistently, refer to her short-cropped, frustratingly straight hair as 'auburn', it is most certainly a dull, mousy brown: the swilling waters left in the sink after dish clean up, or a cool cup of klah with too much milk poured in.
Personality: Fiercely forthright, Nove is honest and impetuous and wholly unafraid to speak her mind, sometimes to the point of impoliteness. Doing something improperly? She'll gladly interject to show you the correct way, and Faranth forbid you forget and need telling a second time. In her way? Ah, not any more, though you're left with a sore shoulder from where she pushed by if you didn't hear the first time she asked for you to move. Moping about or looking for unwarranted sympathy in her line of sight? Watch out, you'll get an earful - she's got little or no patience for anyone who can't work out their own issues on their own time.
When she's not bossing about the lower caverns, and often even when she is, she's driven by vivacious spirit that inevitably spills over into her everyday activities and manners. Nove is lively and spirited, and while perhaps not terribly tactful - which is, ah, an understatement to say the least - she is genuinely well-meaning and usually ready to lend a hand, proving she's not currently tasked at the moment. Nove is quick to smile and quicker to laugh; she finds a great joy in many little things, and the best in most people (that is, as long as they're not completely inept, which by her standards could mean a rather broad spectrum of people) but fully expects one and all to do their duty and do it competently. What's the sense of doing something if you aren't intending to give it your all?
History: Born to a tediously bureaucratic father, a minor cotholder just outside Danac Hold's protective constituency, and a raucous, ineffectively imperious mother, who insisted ceaselessly she married below her station and should've been a Lady Holder "at the very least", Nove had little joy and many, many chores through her early life. Though not an unhappy childhood - while high-handed and overbearing, it would be a lie to say her mother was unloving - it was surely a dull one. What little entertainment she found was in the form of her younger brother, Dekelvai, who provided an endless source of amusement. As was her right as a big sister, she teased him relentlessly on any variety of subjects - to his shrill, vain protests - and slipped a colourful assortment of creepy-crawlies into his bed at night, delighting in the resulting yelps and shouts that resulted.
Through the years, as her teasings and pranks gradually grew less and less frequent, and the pair grew to be honest friends, and genuinely loving siblings. The more diplomatic Kel would step in to intervene on his sister's behalf when she'd ruffled one feather too many, and for her part she pulled him along on the most exciting adventures.
But a cramped minor cothold could hold Nove's spirit for only so long; and though her brother was more subdued, both Dekelvai and Nove came to struggle and chafe under the dreary, monotonous lifestyle of a holder. The never-ending droning on about seeding and moon cycles and reaping seasons and yield weight nearly bored them to tears, and as neither of them were firstborn, the promise of inheriting the cothold was slim. It came to be that, night after night, the pair would huddle together and whisper plans of being whisked away to the Weyr, where they would both Impress to incredible, mysterious dragons and fight Thread, protecting all of Pern from that so-deadly threat!
But idle dreams and fancies were just that - whimsy and fantasies. There were still crops to harvest, herdbeasts to tend, ovines to shear. It wasn't until Nove had a particularly strident and upsetting confrontation with her mother, who pleaded day after day with the girl to be more decorous, that one day she might marry into a nice family and settle down and be a proper woman, that the girl had had enough. Sweeping together her scant belongings while the cothold slept, she snuck out into the night, escaping to the only place she could imagine would take in a strong, willing able body - Nyocia. She didn't count on Dekelvai slipping out after her, with his own rucksack of belongings, but she couldn't refuse her beloved little brother. He followed, her bottomless well of support and admiration, despite her vague misgivings.
It was so that she came to the Weyr at fifteen Turns: not as a Candidate, but as a straggling runaway with her scruffy, timorous brother in tow. Managing to talk her way into the Headwoman's office, she convinced and wheedled and persuaded their way into a position as lower caverns workers. To be at least near the great, fantastic beasts was better than nothing, right? And even, maybe, they could become one of those lucky few…?
Now, after two Turns at the Weyr, they have settled comfortably into this new life, even enjoying the arrangement, trusting that the right moment will come that will open the door to Candidacy - that marvellously, naively idealized life of seamless happiness and effortless labour.
Pets: Nove has Impressed one barred fire-lizard, Zunni, after poking her head into the room to see Lilac's clutch hatch - "just for a peek at the little babies". Zunni is still young - just newly hatched, in fact - and has yet to show much more initiative than demanding to be fed or oiled.
Password: Smelly old people! No, wait, uh… Foxes in boxes! … Er, Pretty please? Oh, shucks, hang on, I've got this one…! Needlethorn
