Using extra character slot from Easter Egg huntName:
Lorenrad, formerly L'radGender:
36 (182, winter)Sexuality:
Fort Weyr > Dalibor WeyrRank:
Drudge, former brownriderPersonality:
Lorenrad is twitchy, he flinches away from contact from most people and can only stand the touch of a healer. Mostly because he has no choice in the matter. It had been the touch of his sisters and his weyrmate that had kept him grounded, kept him from following Sadoth into death and he hates the fact. He doesn't trust people much, figures if he puts his love and attention to them they'll just up and leave him like Sadoth did. Subconsciously, he knows Sadoth's death wasn't the dragon's or his fault but he can't help thinking that if Sadoth had moved quicker, if he'd seen that ball of thread faster things would be much different than they were.
Lorenrad is quiet, rarely speaks unless he is spoken to and when he does he is gruff, blunt and sharp. He doesn't like to talk to people, he can hear the pity in their voices and it angers him. He doesn't want anyone's pity and sympathy, he just wants to be left alone to do his job. When he sleeps, Lorenrad is plagued with visions of that fateful day. Nightmares of Sadoth's screams and fall from the sky wake him in a cold sweat, often his voice is hoarse from shouting in his sleep.
He doesn't mean it when he answers the voice in his head. He knows it makes people wary of him on a deep down level and he knows it makes him look insane. But that voice is Sadoth, talking to him in that smooth voice the dragon always had. His head always turns towards the sound and when Lorenrad realizes what he's doing he wishes he hadn't survived the death of his dragon.
Lorenrad is capable of love, he loved Sadoth and Aralyssa. He loves his children in a sort of detached manner but over all he thinks the emotion to be pointless anymore. Nothing is forever, least of all love, and he would rather avoid the chance that something would bring his attention to it. He can be fiercely loyal and quite over protective of those he calls his own. Content is generally the recipient of this loyalty and woe be to anyone who talks bad about his little cyan. Appearance:
Play by: Dominic Purcell
Lorenrad is a tall heavily built man standing around 6'2" tall. He has very wide shoulders that travel into a wide muscled chest. His hips are somewhat narrow and his thighs are as heavy and well muscled as the rest of him. He prefers his hair non existent and generally has a shaved head. A very square bottom jaw is slightly more forward than his upper though it does not impede his speech nor does it throw off the symmetry of his looks. His face is generally covered in scruff and is rarely clean shaven.
His skin is somewhat dusky and naturally tan, a gift from his mother. His blue eyes sit well beneath dark heavy brows that sit in a scowl more often than not. His ears are larger than average and they stick out from the side his head. He has a rather large Romanesque nose that is wide throughout, from bridge to tip. He rarely smiles, it is not something he wants or needs to do, though there are times when the antics of Content can bring that action to his lips. His lips are well balanced, the top slightly more thin than the bottom. Family:
Ra'dan of brown Viroth (Father +30, deceased)
Loren of green Nybeth (mother +20)
Renlee of pink Jadioth (sister -3)
Dannyl of orange Volidith (sister -2)
Lorralyn of green Layoth (sister -4)
Aralyssa of red Dearath (ex-weyrmate -1)
Aralyad (daughter -27)
Daradan (son -30)Pets:
Content: Cyan: Firelizard: 2 turns: Happy, lovable, tenacious (#5F9EA0
Lorenrad was born thirty six turns ago to a pair of weyrmated Fort dragonriders. The only boy the pair would have, he was quickly followed by three sisters. Life in a weyr was fabulous for the boy, he lived the majority of his life running amok within the creche boundaries until he was old enough to stand for a dragon hatching. Of course, Lorenrad liked to do things his way and as such waited four full turns before actually standing, though the offer had always been there. Good thing too, he impressed his brown Sadoth at his first standing, becoming L'rad for what should have been the rest of his life.
It was incredible, having a dragon, incredible having a friend that was always there
no matter what happened. One could say that L'rad went about being a dragonrider with innocence that he would lose later in life. Everything was beautiful and wonderful and L'rad was striven to be the best rider he could possibly be. Sadoth lived his life much the same, two peas in a pod the pair of them. They'd been full riders for just short of three turns when thread began to fall. But they did their duty with the same determination and hard work they did throughout weyrlinghood. They could handle whatever life threw at them.
His sisters had impressed in the coming turns and L'rad worried for their safety though they each, in turn, told him to mind his own business. He worried nonetheless. A redrider named Aralyssa caught his attention, he was enamored of her and when her Dearath rose for the first time it was Sadoth who caught her. Sadoth who would catch her every time, siring whatever clutch she decided to throw at that time. He loved Aralyssa almost as much as his dragon and the woman felt much the same. Two children would be born to them, a boy and a girl, L'rad couldn't have been more pleased. White wherry plague hit the north. He and his were unaffected by it though he lost some good friends to it.
That's what they would call it. That's what they would name the erratic thread storm that was herald by what they thought was the end of it. To L'rad it was death. It was rebirth. It was nightmares. It was terrible loneliness. It was the end of everything he knew. They flew that day, as dragons and their riders did, they flew long and hard, did what they could where they could. But everything ended that day. Sadoth didn't duck soon enough or maybe L'rad didn't see it soon enough. That large chunk of hateful thread. A chunk of thread hitting Sadoth in just the right place. Lorenrad will never forget the screams of his dragon. Maybe they were his screams too, he'll never know, but the screams would play again and again in his nightmares. The torque of Sadoth's fall and subsequent catch by a gold had caused L'rad to pass out and he didn't know what happened when they hit the ground. When he came to nothing would ever be the same.
He was unconscious for days, fighting to leave but hearing precious voices and feeling precious hands every minute of every day. Voices and touches that opened his eyes a sennight later, voices and touches that told him what had happened. Voices and touches that he grew to hate. They should have let him die. Should have left their selfishness to themselves. Should have let him follow Sadoth between
where he belonged. But they hadn't and he didn't. He hated them for it.
He lost his father in that same threadfall, the old man shouldn't have even been in the sky and had no business being there, but dragonmen must fly when threads are in the sky. He learned that so many had died. So many riders and dragons lost, their weyrwoman among them. He doesn't understand how he had survived Sadoth's death when the rest followed their dragons. He blames them
and their love. He still hates them for it. His hatred was not a thing he kept secret, it was not a thing that was loud, but it was a quiet thing. A thing that drove his Aralyssa away. A thing that saw him avoiding his sisters. Avoiding his children. They didn't deserve his love. He went to work as a drudge. Something to do, something to occupy, something that kept him alive.
He started to hear Sadoth in his mind again some two turns later, a chance meeting with Aralyssa and suddenly the dragon had whispered, "She never loved you anyway"
in his mind. He missed the horror in her eyes when his head turned towards the sound and he had answered out loud, the voice that was inside his mind. When she hurried away, he watched her with a puzzled look and Sadoth silently slipped away. Lorenrad was bereft at the loss of contact and he wished he had died that day.
The contact with his dragon's voice became routine. Sadoth would converse with him and Lorenrad would answer, it didn't happened all of the time but just enough that the rest of the weyr began to look at him with renewed pity. His weyrleaders tried to assist bringing in healers and other dragonless, but the sight of those wraith like ex-riders did more harm than good. Every eye held horror, every voice held pity, every touch held sympathy. Lorenrad grew to hate the weyr of his birth, with their judging eyes. Nothing on Pern caught his attention and he did not care to hear the news. He just wanted to be left alone.
He happened upon a single firelizard egg two turns ago, snuggled down into a nest that contained a few empty eggs. He stopped to see when the shell cracked and slid apart revealing the bright cyan hide of a very much alive firelizard. He didn't have anything beyond some bread to feed her, but she didn't care, loving him instantly when he stuffed her to the gills. Taking care of the small cyan gave him some measure of contentment and Sadoth's voice came more irregularly until it was only strong emotions that brought it forth.
Those in the weyr who knew him were pleased to see the small change in the dragonless man, those who did not still looked at him with pity and judgement, especially when Sadoth's voice was present. It became too much, these last five turns neither healing or helping him and without a backwards glance, took his transfer papers to Dalibor. Maybe this new weyr wouldn't look at him with such terrible pity. Maybe the voices and touches wouldn't bring such hate. Maybe he could finally settled into something worthwhile. Adoption Preference:
Death or transfer. Prefer transfer first.