Miyan
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Miyan

Description

Black hair falls to just above Miyan's waist, neither curly nor straight, but with a sort of wave like quality. Her tanned skin is matched by deep brown eyes set into an angular face. The years have taken very little toll on Miyan, thankfully, and she still looks a good 10 turns younger than she is. Her eyebrows curve just slightly, softening her features. But truly it's the upwards curl of her lips that eases what can be a very stern gaze at times.

Miyan wears an AWLM's knot. But when she's off duty…well, Rhie's seen to it that he's wearing a sundress or something equally feminine.


History

For years, Miho's parents had attempted to have children. They had already given up when a night of too much drinking presented the 50 turn Hema and her 52 turn old husband Chullie with a small baby girl. Despite their delight, the child was never spoiled. Her parents passed away when Mihoyan was 14, but luck was on her side. The girl was given a chance at life by one of her neighbors who used a few connections to get her installed as a glasscraft apprentice. Much to her happiness, Miho seemed a natural at the art. Unfortunately, love for a craft does not overshadow natural clumsiness. The girl managed to break quite an important commission, and the accident left her with several burn scars on her arms. Ashamed of her mistake, Miho eventually left the only other home she'd known and finally made her way to Monaco Bay Weyr. After a few months, Miho gained the courage to begin working in the glass workshop again. During her time at Monaco Bay, Miho was asked to stand and eventually Impressed Green Rhieyeth. Many turns after having her daughter Lyria, Miyan stepped down as Phantasm's Wingleader and became an AWLM for Monaco.


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Family

Name Relation Position Age
Lyria Daughter Glasscraft Apprentice 15
Hema Mother NA Deceased
Chullie Father NA Deceased
S'oh/Chisoo Nuisance/Brother-like Friend Jman Healer/Bluerider 42
Wooly Pet OVINE Who knows~

Dragon

Opal-Eyed Pale Green Rhieyeth

The eyes draw the attention first, on this delicate, elegant, pallid green. They're large, wide, opalescent, and bordered above and below with a thin line of kohl-like green: those lines make every glance, every motion of her whirling gaze more distinct, more meaningful, a tad more dramatic. That same dark coloration clings like wispy webbing over her forehead, tracing like a dark, dew spangled tiara against her brow ridges and head knobs in shadowy forest-green contrast that reappears again and again over her neck ridges, her claws, her wing spars, her tail-tip. The sheen of her hide is as lustrous and smooth as satin as it luxuriously swathes her delicate, feminine curves. Neither bulky nor skinny, she is lithe, and delicate and feminine like a statuette of a limber dancer crafted of palest jade. Her color, oh her wondrously creamy color is a pale green, akin to the wave-tossed frostiness of green sea-glass found at the edge of the ocean's shore. The crisp, clean, refreshing shimmer of a sliced-through melon, wet with its own succulent juices and glittering under the brightness of a perfect summer day drapes down her back from her wing shoulders and onto her wings, only to be broken up by regular, fish-scale dots of iridescence, like the regular drops of a spring rain shower, foaming up into a flashing lace border along the rippling trailing edge of her wings.

Mi2
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