BASICS
RETIRE INFO: Adopt Both
NAME: Fortran
GENDER: Male
PRONOUNS: he/him/his/doesn't really care
ORIENTATION: also doesn't really care
BIRTHDATE: Spring, 2742
AGE: 24 as of 2766
LOCATION: Fort Weyr
OCCUPATION: Wherhandler, Ap. Harper
WING: Dusk Squad
APPEARANCE
EYES: Blue
HAIR: Dark blond, disheveled
HEIGHT AND BUILD: 6 even, lanky, not well muscled
PLAY-BY: Cole Sprouse
FULL APPEARANCE:
Fortran is a not so tall, lean ball of messiness. He always buttons his shirt up cockeyed, never manages to comb his hair and his boots are always coming untied. Usually this state of disarray is brought on by being suddenly drug from bed by a rambunctious wher. He is naturally thin. His cheekbones standing out from the hollows of his cheeks. Collar bones jutting from beneath his shirts. His nose is long and his smile big and a bit goofy. What muscle he does have is mostly from trying to restrain Forsk (which rarely works). His stride is long and loping, his walk being strange and bouncing.
PERSONALITY
PERSONALITY:
Fortran is quiet, though friendly enough. Most might find interacting with him a bit different. He has an odd tendency to be rather specific when he speaks. Carefully forming his sentences to make sure he conveys his meaning and instructions clearly. This quirk developed over years of having to deal with his sister Cobol and her inability to understand the abstract. He used to be painfully shy, but two turns of chasing Forsk around Fort Weyr has changed that. He's learned how to talk to people with more ease, since he is always having to explain or apologize for his wher. And sometimes his sister.
Fortran is very good at seeing patterns. He is watchful and attentive to small details in the way the world interacts with itself (including people and animals). This habit of observing has only helped Fortran better see the patterns that overlay the world. He can plot in his brain the outcome of interactions and events. Usually there will be more than one plausible outcome due to the vagaries of personalities, but he can usually make an education guess on which would be the most likely. It makes him an excellent planner.
HISTORY
FAMILY: Fallon - Father - Runner Breeder
Annbol - Mother - Weaver
Algol - older brother
Cobol of green Tsoth
younger sister Iirtran
younger brother
SIGNIFICANT OTHER: None
BIRTHPLACE: Fort Hold
HISTORY:
Fortran was the second of three boys, and four siblings altogether. A jumbled bunch of warring personalities and shifting fault lines. One week he would be aligned with Cobol against the other two, and then the next he and Iirtran would be pitted against Cobol and Algol. It made for a hectic household to be sure. Life was good though. Fortran often helped his mother set up her loom, always seeming to know just where each thread should go. Sometimes he accompanied his father to look at the runners, listening to Fallon wax poetic about bloodlines. And make snide comments about Ruatha stock (all in good fun... mostly). He climbed things with his siblings. Exploring old tunnels are dry creek beds. They were, luckily, removed enough to escape most of the mayhem that came with dragon battles. A quiet life.
At age 12, Fortran began apprenticing with the Harper Hall. Mostly he did scribe work, and people watching. He did sketches of Gather's and meetings, took notes and times. And watched. Always watching. The wher-raids were less hard to avoid. There was talk of the Holder refusing to send tithes to Weyr. Murmurs that something wasn't right among the whers and their handlers. Until it finally exploding, violence spilling into their world during the night as the whers and their handlers rebelled. Lord Evander was slain and Lady Ellaren missing. The Hold was left shell-shocked and uncertain. No one was voted in to replace him until the following Turn. If someone had asked, Fortran could have warned them that their pattern of misdeeds would have lead to a rebellion. There was only so much neck stomping and abuse any one group was willing to take. His sister was Searched by a Fort rider and swept away to the Weyr for candidate training. Fortran missed her, and often took the long walk up to visit. It was during one of these long treks that Fortran found himself taking a detour off the beaten path.
Something was crying. Like a wounded animal, but Fortran had never heard anything like it before. So he clamored over rocks and scree until he found the source of the noise. A wherlet. Wrinkled and white. Stuck in a crevice it had tumbled into. He was about the pull the pitiful creature out when he found himself knocked to the ground by a snarling blue-wher. Barely kept a finger as the blue snapped and took a defensive position over the crevice-bound wherlet. Fortran tried to explain (to a wher?!) that he was trying to help. He even went so far as to demonstrate. Which got his arm properly mauled. Until Forsk decided that he liked the funny looking not-wher, and wanted to keep him. He was big enough to decide for himself! Or so Forsk thought. So Fortran ended up bringing an extra visitor to the Weyr with him that day. Along with an arm in need of stitches. He never did quite make it home.
UPDATES
- Fall, 6768: Ciask takes a tumble down a hill and runs into Fortran, accidentally pushing him into the large Thread burrow he was working to clear. He's unable to get himself free even with Rhea's help, and dies of his injuries (Fatal).
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FORSK
BASICS
NAME: Forsk
BIRTHDATE Winter, 2762
AGE: 4 as of 2766
APPEARANCE
LENGTH: 11 ft
HEIGHT: 4 ft
COLOR: White
HEX CODE: #D8E3E2
FULL APPEARANCE:
Forsk is a greyish sort of white. Not quite bright but not dark either. On his hide he has patches are blinding white. The largest being on his right side near the haunch. The underside of his wingsails is also a purer white than his body. Along his face and underbelly he is marked with a cream color, the mask around his facial ridges are slightly pink in color, his underbelly being more yellow in tint. His front paws are also marked with the pink-tinted cream - this color is repeated on his upper wingsails. His back feet and wing-arms are a dark blue-grey, which is also found trailing down his back and ridges, starting between his face mask and ending at the last tail ridge.
PERSONALITY
PERSONALITY:
Forsk is a happy wher. And a very curious one. He's never met a stranger. Everyone is a friend! Whers. People. Dragons. Firelizards. Sometimes even wherries! He especially likes canines, though felines tend to have sharp claws and scratch so he avoids them. And hunting birds tend to be too lofty to want to be friends, which Forsk finds very disappointing. He is a bounding ball of happy energy that tends to run a little rampant and wild. There is still a bit of 'wild wher' left in Forsk, and definitely a lot of wherlet. He has trouble remembering the rules, much less keeping to them. He has no sense of personal space or boundaries that are not marked territory. He often bursts into places he should not be. Bedrooms. Kitchens. Bathingrooms. If he can get there, he will very likely to get in there, somehow. To explore and sniff and see what all the screaming is about.
He really likes the kitchen though because there is food there! Food! He also really likes it when Cobol is having one of her attacks of 'something has gone wrong'. It is so fun when she does the circle dance! And Forsk often joins in, waving his wing-stubs like arms and dashing in circles around her. He is a sweet natured wher for the most part. Loving, if a little overzealous. Often being chased by his frazzled handler.