Bethari is slight of frame and lacking in overt feminine curves, both her waist and hips small, and her chest quite flat, making her slender form seem either underdeveloped or simply a straight line from shoulders to feet. She could be pretty, were she to work more on her appearance and put her pale blue eyes and auburn hair to good use, but, as it is, her hair is left to do as it pleases more often than not, falling in uneven waves to her shoulder blades or twisted up in a quick updo. Her hair is towards the lighter end of the spectrum, more orange than red, and, on occasion, a smudge of darker colouring on her lips is used to try and take the sting out of its brightness.
She wears simple, well-tailored clothes that have a tendency to not match and not be of particularly good quality fabric. Her clothes are usually of earthy tones and look comfortable and well lived-in, some bearing mends and marks. Her rose-brown leather jacket is one of the smartest things she wears, tailored to flare out at its hem and create the illusion of hips.
It could be argued that Bethari’s life has been one long road of mistakes and events born of happenstance, including the girl’s very existence. Her mother was late in her childbearing turns when she fell pregnant with what was to be her last child, and it was only at the request of the childless bronzerider who fathered said child that she was brought to term at all. Her parents had been brought together by the somewhat mindless need of a goldflight, and Bethari was born seemingly by accident into a family where her youngest sibling was still a decade older than she.
Though her mother had time for her, it was her father who took more of an interest in her, and he who became the dominant parental figure in her life. Just what Bethari wanted out of life appeared to change turn by turn as she grew, first interested in this apprenticeship, then that one, with the only common thread being that she demonstrated no desire at all to follow in her father’s footsteps. Literature and stories were her main passion, and so she seemed headed for archive work, then for the Tech Craft, yet ultimately no clear decision was made, and as turns passed with no clear path adopted, Bethari fell into simply working in the caverns, mostly running errands on the days that she was not assigned a department to work in. Much of her time was spent working in the nursery, where she found herself looking after some of her nieces and nephews, whom she came to see more as her siblings than their parents were to her.
As Bethari approached her sixteenth birthday and still showed no sign of choosing a ‘proper’ path for herself, her father decided to ‘subtly’ interfere and plant the idea of Impression in her head, weaving tales for her of the green or blue that would choose her and become the best friend she could ever want. Even when the next clutch appeared on the Sands and his bronze ‘Searched’ her, the thought that she would Impress anything but a green or blue simply did not register with Bethari or her father. And so, when that clutch hatched and gold Risabeth spilled from her shell to choose Bethari, who unwittingly announced her dragon’s name as ‘Beth’, her life was turned upside down. And the teasing started. Beth and Beth. She was not prepared for the life of a goldrider – and didn’t believe herself to be worthy of the decision the young queen had made.
This was made worse when Risabeth rose for her first flight and failed to produce a viable clutch. Though she brooded over a clutch of six for the proper time, and paid her eggs due care and attention, there was to be no happy hatching day.
|Elsbet||Mother||Telgar Weyr||Caverns Worker|
Take Away the Pain Bronze Ember
He is a nice mid-range bronze: neither too large nor too small and neither bulky nor waif-like. Rather he has just the right amount of lean muscling and length to create a perfectly proportioned form sure to delight the ladies if it were not for his coloring. His is a dark, antique bronze with barely any metallic shine overlaid by a sparse coating of nutmeg brown. What little metallic gleam there is can be found along the points of the clean cut bones and spars. Traces of gold stir in the darkness of his narrow, pointed head and the forward edge of his wingspars. Hints of copper glimmer in the motion of long, limber legs and spring full born within the needle like talons of his powerful paws. Polished brass hints linger in the fluid grace of taut haunches and sharply peaked hip bones. His wings are the biggest contrast: dull nutmeg brown tops but brilliant molten bronze glowing on the undersides but only when exposed to light.
Electric Blue Jarvis
Big and bold, brashly blue and unabashedly bright – all the B-words to sum up this lightning-shot fella. Nothing close to burly, he’s skinny as a streak of nothing, his neon blue hide flashed brightly with electric sparks that zig-zag across him like a livewire explosion. They zip and zap over his sharp headknobs, sparking life into the jagged angles of his ‘ridges, and flickering out across the vast canopies of his midnight wings – the darkest point on him… well, if it weren’t for the sparksplosion, that is.
The Most Dangerous Green Radiance
This large green firelizard is an exquisite creature, all sleek lines and perilous curves; a cunning construct that carries herself with a grace that’s as intoxicating as it is dangerous. Her features are slightly distorted – elongated, in some way – that lends an alien beauty to something that’s otherwise altogether familiar. Her hide is a smooth blending of lime and emerald, bright without being blinding. Her eyes – tilted slightly as they are – are encircled in a slightly brighter green, a hint of chartreuse smeared artfully around each luminous orb. The bright-medium of her hide transitions to something darker along her headknobs and neckridges, trailing into a dorsal line by the time it terminates over her hips. Her tail is long and whiplike, encircled by a coil of cosmic green that ends in an explosion of too-bright-green at the tips. That luminous, cosmic green manifests on her wingsails as well, flecked throughout with spots of near-white like so many stars caught in strange constellations. Her talons are ink-dark and too-long, dangerous scythes that she knows how to use all too well.
Antique Promises to Keep Gold Risabeth
This candlelight-warm gold is built in long lines, from her slim muzzle, to her well turned out limbs, broad shoulders, narrow hips and slender tail. However, when this could easily make her bulky, her frame remains delicate, her paws small and tipped with fine, starlight-white claws, her ridges soft, unassuming curves. With hide the colour of a warm flame, brighter highlights of copper mingle with richer roseate hue and dapple down the line of her throat, sweeping all the way past her rib-cage to thin flanks and almost to the very end of her tail. The shimmer to her rose-gold colouring helps create a sense of litheness of figure and steadiness of step, and though the former may be plain to see, the latter is certainly a helpful illusion. There is a quiet, watchful intelligence in her bronze-smudged eyes, softened by the manner in which she carries herself.
Logs are located at: Starlight