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| B'an (Brohdan) | |
|---|---|
| Sex | Male |
| Aliases | Bro, Brodie |
| Position | Human Package Inspector ;) |
| Age | Early Twenties |
| Birthplace | Banjotwang High Reaches |
| Home | Monaco Bay Weyr |
Description
B'an is a gentle-looking man: taller than average without traipsing into 'gigantic,' he's big, and beefy, and looks like he gives profound hugs. What else could those arms be good for? They're certainly big. All of him is big, really, from barrel chest to surprisingly gentle hands, to his booming laugh. Brodie's body does nothing by halves, whether it's expansive gesturing or a ridiculous beard he might be trying on for size. His pale skin burnishes to freckles in the summer, and fades slowly with the passing of the sun. Golden-brown hair follows the same pattern: it pales to dusty wheat in the summer, darkens dramatically to bronze in the winter, and has the unfortunate propensity to dangle in his eyes. The man's face is an aristocratic study, comprised of lines that the rest of his softer form doesn't quite touch. His eyebrows are on the hawkish side, shadowing sharp blue eyes and framing a slightly roman nose. Maybe the nose started straight; now skewed a little to the right, it only adds to the charm and rustic warmth that follows this big guy around.
B'an's wintertime fashion sense could be best described as 'country bumpkin', put kindly. He favors warm colors, soft reds and browns, and doesn't seem to mind his heavy leather boots or rough overcoats. His outfits are utilitarian, soft wool shirts and heavy trousers meant for a rough life. There are hints, here and there, of finer tastes - an elegant clasp, a delicate silver chain around his neck bearing a gifted trinket - but for the most part, Brohdan is dreadfully backwoods. His clothes cover his body, and he has more coats and scarves than any one person needs in a jungle weyr honestly. When weather warms back to sweltering heat… well… B'an learned to dress for the weather by watching tourists, and it shows. His wardrobe goes from almost no color to a veritable riot, with shirts in lurid floral patterns clashing gloriously with colorful shorts (sometimes sarongs) and brightly-dyed sandals. He seems to do this for nothing short of the joy of it, in choosing colors he likes and pairing them with whatever he wants, because literally who is going to tell him otherwise? You?? Yeah, we didn't think so.
History
You know that cothold outside of River Bend Hold, the one with approximately twenty people, all of them related somehow? They sell llamas, or something. Wool, maybe? About twenty miles further into the mountains, all the way over Crick Neck Ridge and into another very small valley lies another cothold. Almost literally nobody has ever heard of it, because very few people come and go from there. There's only one road in, and it's impassable for half of the turn, built by a very determined family turns back. Woodcrafters Benram and Nadyne found a particularly impressive tract of woodlands far out in the hinterlands turns back and, newlywed and determined, they never looked back. They set up a cothold out there, set up a system of support with their distant neighbors, and for the most part, they kept to themselves and their little farm.
Second-eldest of four, Brohdan was born not long after his parents set up their holding. Their childhood was quiet, quieter than any weyrbrat can comprehend. Marked by the changing of the seasons, the rapid onset of winter, and the vast, seemingly endless forest's changes, not a whole lot outside of the norm happened to young Brodie. Adventures with his siblings - two brothers, and a sister, as varied in personality as any four siblings could be - came during the summer, while long, cold winters were spent learning the craft his parents had perfected. Even from a young age, Brodie showed aptitude, sitting by his mother and watching the gradual change of shape in a piece of wood, asking endless questions about the grain and the specific shapes and the differences between types of wood.
It was, perhaps, not the most action-packed childhood. The highest point of drama in his young life came at less than ten, when a den of tunnelsnakes moved into the nearby mines. The beasts caused a little havok over the short summer, culminating in one of the younger siblings' terrible plan coming to fruition: chasing the things into their den with kindling and some spirits they pilfered from a locked cabinet. It couldn't possibly be a good idea, and yet the second-eldest and self-appointed guardian of the day couldn't possibly just stay behind. When it ended terribly (because of course it did), they were lucky that one of their parents' firelizards had been sent to watch over them, ready to summon dear old mom and dad to rescue them from the rubble of the mines.
After a lengthy punishment, life went on no worse for the wear. They traveled every turn to River Bend Hold for supplies and commissions, the siblings taking turns following one of the parents through each step of the process. Brohdan learned the differences between woods, learned the sturdiest joints for chairs, the best way to fit a table together. Learned to enjoy the passing of winter, long and endless, in spite of the harsh weather and lack of any contact even from their neighbors. Brodie picked up whittling, carved beautiful things, surprised both parents with his knack for it; but what else was he supposed to do? It wasn't like there were packs of kids to roam with, or even other crafters to pester. He had his family, their meager collection of books and games, and raw talent slowly evolving into real skill. He didn't think that he needed a whole lot else.
Or at least, he didn't until he was searched for a clutch halfways 'round the world. Standing for clutches at Monaco Bay Weyr was a culture shock in every single sense, from the way to dress to the attitudes of everyone around him, right on down to touching eggs and standing on the sands. Truth be told, with two hatchings stood for and failed, and a general lack of support from his family (other than Cassie, of course, but does it even count as support when your brother is like as not to stab as he is to hug you?), Brohdan was content to wait out his time at the weyr, enjoy living an islander's life, and then return home to the warm-but-chilly embrace of his country home. But Seksicanth… well… Seksicanth had other plans…
Family
| Name | Relation | Position | Age |
|---|---|---|---|
| Benram | Father | Woodworker | +20 turns |
| Nadyne | Mother | Woodworker | +18 turns |
| Helyna | Sister | Rabble-rouser | +2 turns |
| Caydan | Brother | Bratty Twin | -10 mins |
| Randyl | Brother | Snotrag | -6 turns |
Dragon
A Hero (Trainee!) To Save Us Blue Seksicanth
The depths of oblivion bathe this dragon's chest, creating an ebony pool that rests over the beast's heart. As if something were attempting to tear him apart from the inside, lines erupt from the jagged edges of the mark and race across his hide. The strokes ebb and flow in intensity, crossing each other at irregular angles until the lean strength of this blue is completely hidden from afar. Behind the dark forest of his torment lies absolute brilliance. What may appear as a landscape of gray flares to life when light falls upon it. Royal blue and cerulean weave together, their bond broken only by the occasional iridescent gleams of green and purple. The moment an onlooker's eyes begin to grasp the pattern of this dragon, a quick movement of sinewy limbs seems to change it almost entirely. Though his narrow head carries the same colorful properties, his eyes stand out against the kaleidoscope-like backdrop. Each is a nearly opaque white and the surrounding scales have been dyed deep midnight, The swirls of emotion they hold are duller than those of other dragons, but given the agility with which he moves there is no problem with the dragon's sight. Equally well functioning are his wings. From above both wings and spars carry waves of cobalt and teal, but from below the sight is nothing short of horrific. Each time he stretches his wings, this blue displays knots of scales and flesh that appear to have been shredded mercilessly by some creature. No ichor oozes out from his mangled appearing undersails, proving that this is more illusion than actual injury, but the display is gut-wrenching nonetheless. The harsh juxtaposition of beauty and grisliness is eased, perhaps, by the forks of his lengthy tail, which seem bent at the tips to nearly create a heart-like shape.
Pets
Summer Seeking Green Firelizard Iddi
Vibrantly verdant, her neon green hide is a beacon in even the deepest gloom, ever aglow even if she is not. Like her skin, this firelizard's personality is nothing short of showy, vivacious and effervescent and endlessly curious. Her long nose is forever poking here and there and everywhere, whirling eyes forever scouting, searching, seeking…
Thank you, Jazhira. <3
Lord Clucklesworth
It's… a wherry. A surprisingly well-groomed one, if you're the sort to notice such a thing, with an honest-to-Faranth leather pet collar encircling his neck that has a carved wooden placard bearing his name. It is exceedingly more regal than he is, but exactly as ridiculous as one would expect.
Thank you, Reya and R'en. <3
Logs
| Title | OOC Date | Cast |
|---|---|---|
| Clever Candidate | August 13, 2020 | B'an, Tykel |
| Snack-break Inquisition | August 18, 2020 | B'an, Tykel |
| Checking In | August 29, 2020 | B'an, T'kel |
Brodie has been in 18 logs since creation.