Tykel
T%27kel1.jpg
Tykel
Sex Male
Position Weyr Artist
Dragon Bronze Szikrath
Craft Harper
Rank Sr. Apprentice
Speciality drawing
Age 30 Turns
Birthplace Seastone Cothold
Home Monaco Bay Weyr

Description

A tallish young man, Tykel is mostly long arms and legs, gangly as a foal. His facial features are handsome, cheekbones high and arched, nose and ears in proportion to the rest of his head. Sapphire eyes flecked with silver flash in deep-set sockets, long, wavy black hair that cascades to his shoulders, an inverted V-shaped shadow that lurks under his nose, still in the peach-fuzz stage, and strong, white teeth in his narrow-lipped mouth complete his head A somewhat giraffish neck leads to a muscular torso and slender limbs with equally slender hands and feet. His skin is a light tan all over his body, save for where a white line about a quarter of an inch long slices horizontally across the back of his left hand.

Tykel wears black cloth knee-length shorts that might have been longer at one time considering the ragged bottom hems on the legs and an open black leather wher-hide vest that reaches to just above his hips. The leather is old-looking but still soft and pliable. On his feet he wears light but sturdy open-toed strap sandals. His only nod to personal adornment is a necklace of four tunnel snake fangs on a braided black leather thong around his neck.


History

Tykel is the fourth of six children, born into a small, remote cothold, Seastone, that prides itself on tradition. Tykel's father, Bregorn, is a third-generation captain in the Fishercraft and wants all his children to work the seas of Pern. The boys to man the fishing boats and the girls to hunt edible seaweeds and shellfish. But Tykel never planned on such a life for himself.

Unlike his brothers, Tykel has always been drawn to different things. Drawn to drawing as a matter of fact, starting at an early age. When he found his drawings used to start the kitchen stove fires, Tykel took to drawing in secret. Seascapes, animals, dragons, anything real or imagined that caught his fancy. Openly scorned by his father, Tykel also found himself mocked and harassed by his brothers and sisters for his passion. All save one, his brother Lamion. Two and a half Turns older than Tykel for some reason Lamion took pity on his persecuted younger brother, encouraging him, protecting him and secretly buying him materials from the roaming traders. By the time Tykel was seven the two were inseparable.

As he grew older and stronger, Tykel did learn to handle a sailboat and, with reluctance, how to fish with hook or net. He and Lamion had many talks over mending the fishing nets. So life was hard, but with Lamion's love and support, bearable for Turns. Until Tykel's 16th Turnday, that is.

That night Lamion met with him secretly. “I've been called to the Fishercraft, Kel and you know how I've waited for that. I don't like leaving you here but this is my chance,” he said, taking Tykel's scarred hand in his. “Listen, brother, get out of here. Get out of here and don't come back. There's places Father can't touch you, where you can be who you want to be, live for yourself instead of living for a pompous old fool, where you can have a real home.” A final embrace come daybreak and Lamion was gone.

Without Lamion's help and support Tykel found himself completely alone in a hostile or indifferent world. He never forgot his brother's words but getting out was not something easily done. He needed his father gone, for a long time, so he could get away and put as much distance between himself and Seastone as possible. Many months later, Bregorn planned a trip north to the Fishercraft. Why Tykel did not know, but nor did he care. Such a trip would take many sevendays, it would give him time.

Tykel prepared secretly and carefully over the sevendays before his father left. Food, water, sketchbooks, drawing necessities, blankets all gradually stuffed into a large knapsack concealed in his room. Finally, his father departed and, that night, Tykel, just a little over 17 Turns, slipped on his overloaded backpack and carefully slipped into the night. He walked and slept hidden at first, staying off the road to avoid being seen. He had no fear of immediate pursuit for he knew his mother was weak-willed and would say nothing until Bregorn returned from his trip. Then he walked openly, wandering the country lanes and paths, going where he pleased. When his food was gone he started staying with Holders willing to house him in return for his artwork. Tykel would stay, sometimes overnight, sometimes for several days, before moving on. Now his wanderings have led him to Monoco Bay Weyr, to see what waits for him there.


Family

Name Relation Position Age
Kallysta Mother Seacrafter 56 (+26)
Bregorn Father Seacrafter 58 (+28)
Mizar Brother Seacrafter 35 (+5)
Canopus Brother Seacrafter 33 (+3)
Urania Brother Seacrafter 32 (+2)
Lamion Sister Seacrafter 27 (-3)
Merope Sister Seacrafter 24 (-6)

Firelizard(s)

Diggin' the Dirt Bronze Stormfury

Swirls of burnished bronze dances along the head knobs of this young firelizard to sweep in dramatic fashion across the head and down his long, slender neck. Golden color dances amidst that tarnished bronzes for his coat is anything but uniformed. When spread open wide his wings have speckles of copper splashed on as if from a paintbrush. Both wings have liberal amounts of these copper dots neither wing matching the other. He’s a long, lanky bronze with little bulk to his build. His tail is thick at the base then ending up nice and slender by the end. His tail tip is a bright shiny gold with light green seen mingled in just the right light.


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Frostie Blue Coldfire

This fine fellow's even hide is a slightly shocking tone of blue not typically seen in nature: a perfect mix of light azure and cobalt that render him a neon tone that sports a certain 'clarity' from different angles. Smatterings of slightly paler blues carbonate his form along barrel-like belly, strong neck and jawline, and at muscular rump, lending him an implied flicker of light and fluid motion, even when he's still. Upon the last centimeters of his tail and its tips, a frothy sort of pale blue 'foam' suddenly appears. Is he whipping up something? Wide eyes give him a look of slight mania — or perhaps over-joviality — their look direct and perhaps even humorous after a fashion


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A Small Green Firelizard Green Jade

A small green firelizard. What, did you expect a turtle?
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Winter's Dawn Brown Sultan

In height and size, he is nearly at the cusp of being as large as the smallest of his bronze kin. Lithe in build, he is well proportioned and balanced, the epitome of good confirmation for a firelizard. Nothing seems skewed or awry, even in the structure of his angular wedged shaped head or his broad tapered wings. The only possible mark against him is that his coloring is a stitch on the drab side. Muted, dusky shades of brown cover him from muzzle to tail tip and only where the coloring naturally gradients to lighter hues yields a neutral tawny brown.

Thin and wispy Green Emerald

Soft pale green whispers of color are piled in curls across the headknobs of this tiny green firelizard. Sweeping down in broad strokes as if painted on yellow curls around both bright and dark green splotches. Trailing along the wings and down to the very tail tip the swirls of color suddenly become pure, uniformed dark green with no breaks at all in the coloration. Each claw of a different shade of green from pale to dark forest green.


Dragon

Acquainted With The Devil Bronze Szikrath

A blocky behemoth of a bronze is this, built to withstand all that life will throw at him. His entire build is designed with an eye for endurance and strength - his bulk is formidable and yet he carries himself with an unobtrusive sense of confidence. Wrought of gleaming, polished bronze, he is not a singularly colored entity - incandescent blue highlights race over his blunted muzzle and pensive eyeridges, before there is a bright spark and ribbons of aqua glitter brilliantly along short neckridges and tumble over his well-muscled shoulders. Scarlet-forged shadows shift within his joints and along his belly, further armoring his already well-protected form. Sparks of electric blue-bronze flare into life again along his haunches before jumping to the upper reaches of his tail, only to wink out by the time they reach the forked tips. And then there are his wings, vast pinions of rich, copper-bronze bound by sails hammered out of a blend of bright bronzes and seemingly affixed with steel rivets that wink and glitter, a timeless piece of construction work. Claws of dark gunmetal tip each wing, while talons made of blued steel emerge from blunted digits on each oversized foot, wickedly curved and ready to carve his place in the world.


Logs

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