Z'kiel stands at a little over six foot tall, and has a slightly stretched out appearance to him. His build is thin, and clearly he didn't eat as much as he perhaps should have at times while growing up, but toned through frequent physical labors and exercises. Hands are calloused, with the occasional scar, and his skin is slightly pale for one who spends so much time outside. Deep black hair is kept back in a ponytail, neat and out of the way, and hangs down to his shoulders. Slightly sunken eyes sit beneath thin black eyebrows, a medium shade of blue that resembles thick cloudy ice. His face is defined by angular features, with high cheekbones, a strong nose, and thin bow-shaped lips.
Z'kiel is garbed in the standard uniform of a dragonrider. His flying leathers are black, rather than the more typical brown, and underneath the jacket is worn a white shirt. The elbows of his jacket, along with the knees of his trousers, have clearly been reinforced as if extra-stress than usual is expected for these areas. His boots are likewise black, and seem to be designed to give extra support to the ankles as well as having hard and inflexible toecaps. His shoulderknot is that of a rider at Xanadu Weyr, with a Galaxy Wing patch and a bronze cord for his lifemate.
Nobody is quite sure who Z'kiel's parents are, least of all the man himself. One day, as a very young child, he was just dumped on the nannies at Xanadu Weyr by a rather angry woman who was presumed to be his mother. When asked why she was so eager to get rid of her son, she made the bitter comment that 'He has his father's eyes'. The woman wasn't known to the locals, and has never been seen since. Though he grew up surrounded by the nannies and the brood of children who they raised between them, the circumstances of his arrival seemed to have been taken somewhat personally by the young child. While there was nothing wrong with him, Zekiel always maintained a calculated emotional distance from those around him and remained on the fringes of the group as he grew up.
All Weyrbrats have to find ways to make themselves useful and scrape together whatever they can, and Zekiel was no exception. As he grew, the young man showed a strong preference for tasks that allowed him to work on his own, and focus on his thoughts. Fixing things was one such area, but his true skills and interest lay in hunting. As he become older, he was at first allowed to accompany the other hunters and then, as his ability and experience grew, to hunt on his own. This came to occupy a great deal of Zekiel's time, and he often voluntered for extra hunts to fill the free time that others spent socializing or relaxing.
By the time he was in his late teens, Zekiel appeared to have found his niche in the Weyr His reputation as a skilled hunter, along with the fact he was usually quiet and polite, meant most people were willing to overlook his lack of participation in social events and write him off as reserved rather than weird. Not the most well adjusted youth ever, he managed to make his decision to go on his way independent and alone work without being seen as a weak link in a society based so heavily on mutual cooperation and everyone doing their share.
The lifestyle he had chosen, however well suited, was not apparently where Zekiel's eventual fate lay. In his late teens, standing on the sands for his first time at the only home he had ever known, the young man impressed bronze Kunaseth. Now that he was bound to share his life with another, Z'kiel began to make attempts to be more social and met with moderate success.
On graduation from Weyrlinghood, Z'kiel gravitated to Search and Rescue, for which he seemed to be a natural, and joined Galaxy Wing. Now a proven rider with several turns of experience under his belt, he's still catching up on the ins and outs of social interactions he never quite learned as a child. Perhaps the most obvious sign of this is his by turns smooth and stormy quasi-relationship with R'in, one of his clutchmates and possibly the only person he could be described to have been close to when he was young.
While pretty might not be the first word to come to mind with this gold, stunning certainly may be. Dark antique gold slips down, twisting around her full neck, and dripping down along her torso and back, winding tendrils around each limb. Lighter, silver-tinted filigree spars lace her translucent wingsails, the work of a master. Auburn tinted ridges flow down her back, a ruler's cape, flowing gracefully to the tip of her tail. The darkest hues appear along the tip of her short muzzle, flecking her nostrils, before being mirrored in her talons.
Molten copper pours over the powerful yet sleek musculature upon this handsome specimen of lizard. Polished to a near scintilling gleam, it is at every angle which the senses are taken for a spin. Just the slightest motion sends the stalwart form into incredible rippling show of strength. A finely tapered head, arced and angled in just the right areas smoothes downwards toward a long, sinously muscled neck. A broad and well toned chest as well as wide shoulders offer for support to the massive spread of wings. The sails are a impressive spread of bronzed copper with just the slightest hint of golden highlights. Along his ribcage, he narrows towards his hips but those hind legs seemingly echo the forelegs in power - ropes of thick muscle wrap around a solid bone structure. It is then his tail comes into play, the limb as able as the rest of him. Long, it acts as a fifth limb for this grand bronze male.
Thorns of shiny gold bright the otherwise dull hide of this angular firelizard, heightening the slim planes of his wings and the long, lean sweep of his sharp neckridges. Beneath, a tangle of woodwork in oak and hazel, twined around his neck and legs, gone to chocolate only across the tops of his wide feet and the bridge of his nose. Wheat thatches his wingsails, and straw is haphazardly thrown along the length of his tail.
Bright sparks of copper skip and dance along the broad back and stout neck of this bronze dragon, as though his very insides were writhing with electricity. Streaks of lightning zip along his chest and shoulders, radiating along his underside and turning his belly a lightened shade of butterscotch. Molten copper clings along the edges of his squared jaw-line and down the back of his neck in the form of sculpted ridges. Faint traces of aged brass crisscross along his spine, forming intricate stripes that are just barely visible against the bright shining bronze of his hide. While the majority of his visage is a picture of light, a dark shadow of deep bronze tarnish clings stubbornly to his thick limbs and the base of his tail, spreading the dull color as far as it can reach. Shockwaves of light break free of the darkness along the tip of his tail, charging the dull, faded brass at the base into a vivid combination of copper and bronze. Pulses of sparks radiate upwards across his expansive set of wings, sending bright arcs of gold shooting across his bronzed wing membranes.
|Random Log: Survival Camp Day 3||2008||Amarante, Arkoss, Chaitra, Delenn, Heeva, Keziah, Kristhalis, Laera, L'alie, Lorena, M'iri, Myesha, Orla, Rhalin, R'in, Ryski, T'eo, Z'kiel|
|Random Log: The Experience of Weyrlinghood||2008||Kamari, K'vin, Z'kiel|
|Random Log: Zevida's Cooking Event||2008||Keziah, Myra, Nalkor, R'miel, Trian (npc), Zevida, Z'kiel|
|Beach Party||2008||A'deo, Arkoss, Delynni, Ethne, F'ai, Keziah, Lorena, Myesha, Nalkor, Panya, Ryski, Zevida, Z'kiel|
|Random Log: Tavern Talk||2008||Chaitra, Myra, Orla, Rwylann, Z'kiel|