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The New Hope Clutch is hatching! And to everyone's surprise a White has spilled onto the sands after the combined help of the candidates freed it! To top it all off a huge pride of felines is attacking the Weyr during the Hatching! Will all the babies survive? What about the people and Dragons of the Weyr? So far one Bronze has been killed, and Hikari has nearly been murdered herself by the blood thirsty cats, only escaping by pure luck!
This, is Maori Weyr. The home of the last few left behind after the great Evacuation, and the few who will not forget their ties to the old world, Earth. Will you join our ranks? Or flee back North, where comfort and the security of many Weyrs lies.
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Current Weyrleaders
Weyrwoman: Gold-Green Mertaith of Hikari
Weyrleader:Brown Tamith of Knalen (Kn'len)
Current Clutches
N/A
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Blue (Herm) Alianth
Green Aoith
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FALL
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!VOTE FOR US!
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Vanren - Soldier, Firelizard/Dragonet Breeder: Male
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Topic Started: Apr 4 2011, 10:08 AM (270 Views)
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RDSR
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Apr 4 2011, 10:08 AM
Post #1
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- Posts:
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- Mar 22, 2011
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Username: RDSR Character Number: 5th Name: Vanren Age: 29 (Born Mid Summer) Gender: Male
Appearance: Standing at an even six feet tall with a wide shouldered, powerfully built frame, Vanren is a handsome man and he knows it. He has a somewhat square face, with a strong jaw line. His cheek bones are not especially noticeable and his flat cheeks dimple when he smiles. Vanren’s dark brown hair is worn short, and maintained in a ‘brush it and leave it’ style except on special occasions. His eyes are a piercing sky blue, tinted with just a hint of grey, to make them look like a stormy day.
Vanren’s back is covered in scars. The marks crisscross his back, often meeting and overlapping and in places forming strange, almost swirling patterns, as if they had been left there deliberately, which many were. Many of the thinner ones appear to have been left by knives or other blades, while the longer thicker ones are the results of whippings or other unpleasant forms of beatings. His forarms are speckled with small burns. His left hand bears several long thin scars from his impression to Tatter.
When it comes to clothing, Vanren can be kind of vain. Though his clothing tends towards practical cuts and practical colours, generally darker ones, when it comes to cloth and look, he spares no expense. He likes to look good and he figures if he likes it, he might as well do it. His clothing always shows off his figuring, hinting at but never outright revealing all the things he has to offer a prospective partner.

Personality: Vanren is a broken man. On the surface, he seems like a very nice guy. He is well spoken and courteous to everyone, from the highest of weyrwomen to the lowest of drudges. Yet underneath the kindly gentleman lurks a ruthless man who is not afraid to kill for his cause. Vanren is a study in contradictions. He can be calm and gentle one moment, Sarcastic and downright nasty the next and perfectly vicious a moment after that. His moods flip with seemingly no warning or trigger.
There are a few things which remain constant no matter what mood Vanren is in. To start with, he’s a flirt. His methods of flirting change constantly, going from subtle hints about how attractive he finds a person to outright jumping them and kissing them. He’s never gone so far as to force himself upon someone, but the potential lies within him. On his good days this fact about himself terrifies Vanren. On his bad days he sometimes wonders why he doesn’t just let go and take what he wants. To Vanren, sex is sex and not something which should be confused with affection or love. You can have sex without having a relationship and you can have a relationship without sex needing to be a part of it, though he certainly prefers that sex be a part of his relationship, should he ever find another human to make a permanent attachment to.
At no point is Vanren a solitary man. He loves to be a part of the crowd, to be surrounded by people and by things going on. There is nothing Van hates more than being alone. This is part of why he so desperately wanted to impress and why his failure to do so caused such a shocking mental break, though those who knew him knew he’d always been rather unstable. Though he says he became a firelizard and dragonet breeder to earn a few marks and for something to do, in truth he is subconsciously trying to make up for his failure to impress and his long ago failure to reconnect with his family, by surrounding himself with other people and creatures. For preference he keeps firelizards and dragonets because he can feel them though empathy and impression bonds, unlike a canine or a feline whose companionship is entirely physical in nature. Though, of course, he does not ever acknowledge this fact.
Vanren is claustrophobic and acrophobic. He can’t stand small spaces or being up high. Being in a small space for even a short length of time gives him nightmares which can last for several sevendays and being in a high place can trigger panic attacks. He wasn’t always like this, but Vanren’s time has clearly left more than just physical marks upon him. Certain seemingly random sounds remind him of his time there and hearing one will instantly set him on the defensive. However even he’s never sure what sounds will set him off, since he can be fine with something one day and then find himself reminded of the past by it the next, or pained by a sound one day and okay with it the next.
Biography: Vanren grew up in a fairly well to do household. They were largely untouched by the war, his father being an executive in a large company and his mother the trophy housewife. Vanren was the middle child, often overlooked in favour of the achievements of his older and younger siblings. It was expected right from the start that Vanren would follow in the family business, just like his older brothers before him and their father before them and his father before him and so on back down the paternal line, businessmen stretching for generation upon generation. Vanren was happy to do so.
That is at least, until the day he turned ten. It was but a few days after his birthday, that the men found him, playing the park under the watchful eye of his nanny. She was new, and as it turned out, she was a plant, a member of a criminal organisation. She had been placed within a trusted position in his family; in order to do exactly what was now happening, kidnap one, or more, of the children to force his family to do the organisation’s bidding.
A political prisoner to this group was not a good thing to be. Vanren was a welcome piece of new flesh for the people who believed in their unwinnable cause. Vanren’s small dexterous hands were swiftly put to work assembling components for what he would alter learn were bombs. Vanren’s knew every time his father or another member of his family slipped up and did something they were not supposed to. He would be beaten and whipped until his body was black and blue, except for his back where it was red and puffy from the beating. Until, one day, he caught the eye of a particularly nasty man fairly high up in the chain of command. This man had a love of drawing blood, he volunteered to be the one to deliver the young man’s punishments and from that moment on, not a single beating went by that Vanren didn’t end up bleeding in some way. Whips now hit hard enough to cut the skin and the cazyed man seemed to take delight in taking a knife to Vanren’s flesh, carving intricate patterns into the boys skin, knowing that with the kind of care he would receive the marks would scar. Even more than the blood he delighted in breaking the mental defences of the boy who was swiftly becoming a young man, making Vanren beg for the pain and for other, even more despicable acts against his self.
He was with them for nearly five years. Then, one day, he found himself taken home. The bruised and damaged young man was thrown upon the steps of the family home and left here. The cries of the family pets as they came across him roused his family. Vanren never found out what happened to make the men, whose names he had never learned, give him back, he was just grateful to see the faces of his family, even if they did twist in horror when the saw the scars which adorned his body. Though he desperately wished otherwise, things were never the same. His scarred form was a constant reminder of what he had given for them and none of them could relate to the haunted look in his eyes, or understand the way he could no longer do certain things or think in certain ways.
It was almost a relief when nearly a year later he was approached by a man, one very similar to the men with whom he had essentially grown up with. This man offered him freedom, a chance to go somewhere that he could truly start over. As terrible as things with the organisation had been, Vanren had over time found himself almost missing the place, a combination of a slight case of Stockholm syndrome and the sheer tension he felt any time he was around any of his family but the youngest members, the ones who barely remembered him from the time before. This chance, a chance for a new beginning, being offered by a man who looked like them? It was not something Vanren had the ability to pass up.
Thus it was that the sixteen year old boy was packed up among the hundreds of others who were put into coldsleep and sent to the planet of Pern. The planet was to Vanren’s mind completely perfect. He quickly took up with gypsies, joining their caravans as they explored the lush landscape of the southern continent, so different to the cities of Earth or the bare earth and underground tunnels of the organisation.
Life continued pretty much as expected up. They had been landed on the new planet for maybe a turn or so when He got his first chance at impressing on of the firelizards whom had so captivated the population. A half a clutch of eggs from a gold flitters clutch had been advertised as being free to anyone who wanted them. As one of the younger folks within the growing colony, Vanren wasn’t assigned an egg, though he had put his name in for one, but he managed to weasel his way in to see the hatching when it happened. Things went smoothly enough, until two eggs on the edge of the clutch, away from where most of the people had gathered, hatched at the same time. A large brown Firelizard and an even larger bronze dragonet emerged from the eggs. Before anyone had a chance to do anything, the bronze turned upon his brother, attempting to kill his sibling in order to sate the hatching hunger. Being the closest to the clutch, Van was the first to act out against the display of violence and cannibalism. The young man reached out, snatching the brown away from his bronze brother. He suffered several nasty wounds on his hands for his trouble. One of the older men, the one the egg had been intended for, attempted to take the brown away from Vanren, but it was clear that the little creature had chosen to bond to his saviour despite that he had yet to be fed.
Thing continued to be fairly normal, at least until that day, some eight years after Landing, when death came in the form of silver threads falling from the skies. The caravan who had become home to Vanren was lost. Vanren and a few of the younger gypsies survived thanks to the firelizards, who herded their mounts into the nearest cave system. As the oldest it fell to Vanren to guard the entrance, to stand watch as the silver threads devoured the land around them and the younglings he had been supervising huddled as far to the back as they could. Tatter, curled around his neck, hissed and spat at the threads, desperate to do like the other firelizards did, but unable to.
When finally it was over and the firelizards and dragonets allowed them out of the caves, Vanren emerged to a world much changed. Everything around them was dead. Not just dead, but gone, a barren wasteland where once the world had been lush and fertile. Seeing such destruction, seeing the world of his salvation reduced to the sameness of the places he had escape was a terrible blow for Vanren. Was it not for the gypsy children, he likely would have walked right back into the cave and never left. As it was however, their needs got him moving again, and he pulled together the remaining animals and supplies and set them out for Landing. If anywhere had survived that rain of death, if anyone else had made it through, Vanren reasoned that would be where they would go.
It took them near on two weeks to reach landing, hunting for food in what patches of remaining land they came across. By the time they arrived, the dragon project had been conceived and was well under way. As the children he had herded so carefully to Landing were taken by those in charge of such things, Vanren found himself at a loss as to what to do. Until the day he was picked out as one of those with the potential to attract one of the dragons within the eggs which were starting to harden upon the sands. Van liked the idea and he eagerly awaited the day that the eggs were due to hatch.
Sadly, it was not to be. At that first hatching, he was ignored by the hatchlings who tumbled out onto the sands. And at the next hatching as well he was left to himself as dragons found their riders in others.
Like everyone else he had noticed the smoking volcanos which loomed over the Landing. He was not subject to the same sense of security which everyone else seemed to feel and he secreted himself in the cathrine caves several weeks before the eruption. However, with no-one to miss his presence, he was missed by the relocation efforts, being left behind in the South when so many others fled to the north.
When finally he came out of his hiding, there was almost no-one left. Vanren however was resourceful and quickly took up with one of the few groups of gypsy folk to have stayed in the south. With them he travelled to the home of the few dragons who remained in their southern home, Maori Weyr. There he presented himself as a candidate for any clutches the dragon might produce.
Vanren stood, and stood, and stood. All too soon he was being told that he was too old, that at twenty nine years of age he was no longer considered suitable for such a bonding. Vanren was devastated. The lifelong soul deep bonds which dragons had with their riders was something he craved so desperately. To be told was no longer allowed that chance to stand and find such a bond of his own was a terrible blow to a man who just wanted a family, wanted someone who could understand him and wouldn’t judge him for being what he had been made.
Desperate to find something to hang onto, He hired on a guard at the Hold. He’d learned to use a number of weapons during his time with the gypsy families, he felt he might as well make use of his skills.
Location: Maori Hold Rank: Soldier, Firelizard/Dragonet Breeder Pets: Brown Firelizard Tatter (B03602) – Affectionate, Optimistic, Sweet, Proud Green Firelizard Vesi (001515 00FF80 BFFF80) – Regal, Vain, Demanding, Bitey Bronze Dragonet Nero (999506) - Helpful, Pompous, Wild, Devoted Bronze Firelizard (b7a406) - Protective, Cowardly, Cannibalistic, Flirtatious

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 The Tabby Bronze Canis Major Egg Helpful, Pompous, Wild, Devoted
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Protection Hatchling
 Bronze Firelizard: #b7a406 Impressed To: Vanren (RDSR) Personality: Protective, Cowardly, Cannibalistic, Flirtatious
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Wingrider A'dryn of Brown Telareth Wingrider Aine of Hermaphrodite Blue Alianth Candidate/Healer Nikolai Candidate/Teacher Avilin
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Ichigo
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Apr 4 2011, 04:36 PM
Post #2
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Administrator
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Looks good other than some problems with his history. In the fourth paragraph of his bio you have the line "He was with them for nearly five years. Then, one day, he found himself being thrown onto dragon back and taken between. " When there are no Dragons on earth lol. I figure it's a small slipup while trying to fix his history for Maori's Timeline.
The last bit of his history makes me sad and want to give him a hug.
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 Ahote and Blue Erementh
(#297152 & #e9da1a) ~ (#424894)
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RDSR
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Apr 4 2011, 11:41 PM
Post #3
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Damn, thought I'd gotten all of them. Last place I had him he was a political prisoner being held by a group of riders. Whelp, it's been changed now.
And yeh, Vanren is in need of hugs. *Pats the poor broken soldier*
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Wingrider A'dryn of Brown Telareth Wingrider Aine of Hermaphrodite Blue Alianth Candidate/Healer Nikolai Candidate/Teacher Avilin
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