“We get some rules to follow
That and this
These and those
No one knows”
- Queens of the Stone Age, No One Knows
BASICS
RETIRE INFO:
Kindra: Retire
Rakalath: Adopt
NAME: Kindra, doesn’t
GENDER: Female
PRONOUNS: She/her/hers
ORIENTATION: Demiromantic
BIRTHDATE: Early Winter, 2745
AGE: 21 as of Early Summer 2767
LOCATION: Fort Weyr
OCCUPATION: Daylight Bluerider,
WING: Daylight Wing
APPEARANCE
EYES: Startling blue but often unemotional
HAIR: Black with coppery hints, curly and quite long
HEIGHT AND BUILD: 5’3, slender and petite
PLAY-BY: Michelle Trachtenberg
FULL APPEARANCE:
First appearances yield very little of this woman’s mystery: sweet as she might seem, Kindra does her utmost to cultivate a forgettable air. She does not glorify herself in any way- preferring to stay well away from the limelight. She is not tall, and not especially muscular despite Turns of dragonriding, although lean muscle lays concealed beneath dainty delicateness. She has remarkably good posture and poise, and will never be caught fumbling or tripping (although she will fervently deny any innate grace). Her strengths lay in her speed and nimbleness, although Kindra’s main talent seems to be her ability to be mostly invisible. That’s just the way she likes it, too.
With dark, curly hair and an intensely soulful gaze of crystal blue, Kindra might be reminiscent of those old portraits of ladies. Her face is slightly long, with pronounced cheekbones and a delightful button nose. Thin lips are bow-shaped and normally pink, when she isn’t biting them. A few freckles give life to her pale complexion, adding a hint of girlishness to her otherwise vacant expression. Cherubic, some have gone so far to claim- but Kindra doesn’t think herself especially pretty, and certainly not worth anyone’s compliments.
Her dress sense is practical, in plain colours of black and white. The few dresses she wears are for Gathers only, and usually include tight-laced bodices and flowing skirts that lend themselves well to being tied up, should the need arise for her to run. She is grateful to have a slim frame, as her womanly curves are minimal and thus do not interfere with her duty. Kindra has a very private fondness for jewellery, especially bracelets, though she does not wear them during day-to-day activities.
When (or if) she speaks, the words are a trembling stutter, her voice as quiet as a mouse’s. Though she grows more steady the more confidence she has around the other person, it is a difficult process for the young woman. Her shyness affects her physically, to the point where she will hunch or make herself seem smaller out of habit.
PERSONALITY
PERSONALITY:
As the product of a stern and unloving upbringing, Kindra is very awkward and withdrawn. A first impression might leave someone cold, as she is unwilling to speak very much unless directly questioned. Though she is incredibly polite and respectful- especially of her seniors and those in positions of authority- she is reluctant to share much about herself. She is a keen listener, and has developed good people-watching skills over the years.
Far beneath the veneer of calm impassivity lies a girl yearning to make friends and smile. Social norms are a tricky thing for her: she knows how people behave, she just isn’t quite certain she’s doing it right. She feels awkward in her skin and amongst others, and her awkwardness translates into inexpressible anxiety. Thus, Kindra prefers to remain silent and withdrawn, not showing her face in case it’s the wrong face to be making at the time. If everybody could just wear a mask that clearly stated how they felt, without any of this criss-crossing body-language and implied messages… ah, the world would be a better place indeed. She feels rather like a fraudulent human- not entirely certain that she belongs amongst others or in proper society.
Bright and thoughtful, Kindra is introspective and reflective, given to deep, philosophical thoughts on the world and its many affairs. She takes a great interest in domestic minutiae, enjoying watching people accomplish their duties as she does her own. It gives her a sense of normalcy, something that she deeply craves. Lessons are learnt quickly, mistakes are not repeated. She is diligent and dutiful to the last- a reliable and competent rider.
Though she desperately yearns for company and close friendship, Kindra has a hard time trusting others due to her personal misgivings about herself. Her world is tinged with pessimism and cynicism: she expects the worse to happen, and will often aggrandise and catastrophize current events in her head. Kindra keeps her emotions bottled up: nobody is allowed to see beyond the mask she chooses to wear, and nobody but Rakalath can see the storm of worry beneath.
Once her trust and friendship have been earnt- a hard thing indeed- she is a loyal and obedient friend. Kindra will take secrets to Between, and will go to any length to perform that which is asked of her. Her unfailing naivety and kindness might blind her to her friends’ ill intentions- but she takes so long to come to a state of trust that she truly believes those dear people will never ever misuse her. She is the type of woman to hold a grudge for a very long time: she does not forgive, and she does not forget. She is more than capable of recalling events and details from long ago, and is often described as obsessive or exacting when angered.
Romance is a frightening notion to her, and she tends to pull away when she experiences a rush of feelings for another. Though Kindra wishes to one day find someone to truly love, she is unsure how to go about it to begin with, and would much rather take her time with such complicated matters. Her anger, too, is something that she pushes away and denies whenever she can. It turns icy instead of hot, leaving her furiously fixating over every mistake and detail. She can be quite the schemer, though prefers not to do anything rash or final unless ordered to.
HISTORY
FAMILY:
- Father: Coryick
- Mother: Naltira
- Brother: Dejin {2741}
- Sister: Trisa {2742}
BIRTHPLACE: Jandelle Hold, beholden to Benden
HISTORY:
Trigger warning: Death, emotional abuse, mental illness, neglect
The unnecessary third child of the Lord and Lady of Jandelle Hold, Kindra felt her irrelevance from a young age. Neither Lord Coryick or Lady Naltira made time for her- Dejin was the heir their father wanted, and Trisa was beautiful and wise beyond her Turns. Kindra found that the drudges and cooks were far warmer and considerate of her, and she spent a great deal of her early life in their company. Her fascination for the inner workings of Holdlife started there.
Despite their parents’ disfavour, her siblings adored her very much. Dejin, who was shaping up to be a wiser and kinder man than their father, taught her how to defend herself with a sword. Trisa, whose beauty was incomparable in Kindra’s eyes, always had a ready smile for her, and words that made her laugh. She was everything beautiful and right in the world, and Kindra idealised her.
Dejin had been taught to fight as he grew up, and he spent time teaching Kindra as well. She had aptitude for it- her natural nimbleness showing her in good light. Lord Coryick suddenly saw an advantage to having a third child: a personal bodyguard for his son and daughter. So, Kindra was given a purpose and a job and she loved it. She so very much loved being part of something, of having a place amongst her family. She took to it like a duck to water. Learning to fight, to wield a sword and repel adversaries left her little time to learn to play and be a child, but she watched the other Holdbrats from afar, noting her own lack of desire to join them and wondering who, of the two groups, was more normal.
And so, when she reached the age of twelve, she was given very clear instructions to ensure no harm befell Trisa, as Dejin was assigned his own personal guard. The two sisters shared a room, and the young girl accompanied her sister most everywhere. There was the rare occasion that Trisa begged for a little alone time, and Kindra never wanted to say no to her smiling, radiant sibling. It was a peaceful if lonely existence- one in which Kindra both thrived and died, day by day. Her whole world was limited to her sister and the goings-on at the Hold, with occasional interaction with the cooks and drudges of her childhood. Kindra told herself that as long as she was welcomed and loved by her family, it didn’t matter what it cost her. Everything was going to be okay in the end. She never had the courage to question her instructions at all.
A few Turns later, shortly before Kindra turned fifteen, Trisa had once more begged to be left alone for a candlemark or two. Kindra obliged her, and made her way to the kitchens for a small snack and to listen to the gossip. Someone very idly mentioned that a man had been seen speaking with Trisa just minutes before they arrived in the kitchen, and Kindra panicked. This. This was what her parents had told her to prevent, to forestall. If Trisa were hurt in any way- if this random stranger got it into his head that the advantage was his… For a moment, Kindra’s whole world lost focus and she found herself running. She saw Trisa, she saw the man, she leapt upon him…
The screams jolted her from her momentary senselessness. Blood splattered her clothes, she realised. The blade she carried- short, but most definitely sharp- was plunged into the man’s body. A boy. A boy’s body. Trisa’s tears, her wails and shrieks… they were enough to break the younger girl. Kindra looked up and witnessed her sister’s loss and pain, and her whole world came crashing down.
Lord Coryick and Lady Naltira arranged everything afterwards. Kindra was given a small room somewhere deep within the Hold, with a very tiny window for air and light. She was brought her meals three times a day, and given the opportunity to bathe every so often. A story was spread that Kindra had died during the attack, and the Hold mourned two instead of one. Later on, Trisa confided in her that it had been a harmless courtship- a girl’s crush on a boy who might have one day had the power to take her away from their parents. Kindra couldn’t meet her sister’s gaze. Though Trisa said that she forgave her, the pain still lurked in her eyes. She came to visit as often as she could, but Kindra urged her to stop, to leave her to her fate; Trisa refused. Both Dejin and Trisa were aware of their parents’ treatment of her, of how she had been used for most of her life, and unwanted the rest. Trisa could not forgive herself, either, for watching it happen.
Kindra’s destiny changed forever when an unexpected Search brought dragons to the Hold. Trisa snuck Kindra out of her small room, determined to bring some joy into the poor girl’s life. It was the first time Kindra had come face to face with a dragon, and she found herself lost in their swirling, mesmerizing gaze. It was then that she was approached by a Green’s rider, and offered the chance to Stand. Trisa took her aside that night, beaming and excited, and convinced her to accept. She was terrified that her sister was becoming hollow and inhuman, and, with Dejin’s help, had been concocting a plan to rescue her. Encouraging her to Stand seemed like a good way to get her out from under their parent’s control.
In the end, Kindra accepted. Trisa seemed so certain that this was the right thing to do- how could she be wrong? However, leaving everything that she knew to Stand, alone, at Benden, was terrifying. Interacting with other people was a cause of deep and growing anxiety and fear. She stuttered, sweated and was unable to meet people’s eyes. They laughed at her- both to her face and when her back was turned. Kindra bowed her head and did what she did best- exist in silence, and hope that everything would somehow work itself out. Doing chores and attending lessons allowed her mind to go into autopilot, so long as she was not called upon to answer questions of any sort. The harpers could not fault her writing or recall, and the candidatemaster found her disciplined and physically fit. On paper, she ticked all of the boxes for being a competent dragonrider; it just didn’t seem to work so well in practice, when the slightest bit of communication was required.
The Hatching began one warm evening of late spring, in 2761. Kindra did what was expected of her, changing into white robes and standing, a little apart, with the other women in a loose semi-circle. It was a whirlwind of cracking eggs and creeling dragonets, some more dangerous than others as clumsy creatures spilled the blood of unwary youth. Kindra’s mind had gone into survival mode, and she did not allow herself to come close to a wavering dragon until a blue, its hungry, almost predatory gaze fixed on her, cornered her against the sands.
In a swift and brutal moment, he pounced, pinning the delicate woman against the stone stands behind her. The claws did not dig in to her skin, and there was no pain in her stomach where he rested. My little Kindra, tell your Rakalath: which things are ours to take? His bloodthirstiness was hidden by his gruff saccharine tones as he wove tail and neck around her limbs. It is all of ours, Kindra. We will hunt everything.
Weyrlinghood went better than expected: with Rakalath whispering in her ear and pushing her into situations that would otherwise have left her terrified, Kindra was building up her confidence. Her stammer remained, though not as pronounced, and she was a very quiet young woman. Her steadfast dedication to training did earn her friends- those who were inspired, or needed someone to motivate them or to copy from. Kindra tried to make the appropriate faces required in social situations, and believed she was getting better at it, but when she graduated those friends drifted away. She wasn’t sure why.
It took time, but Kindra was beginning to heal. Her lonely childhood was a thing of the past- with Rakalath, she would never be alone again. She had come to grips with her failure as best as she could, letting Rakalath’s love and pride drive her through her daily routine. Though she did not believe she could ever be redeemed- not in Trisa’s eyes, nor the boy’s family- she hoped that she would still make something of herself. Rakalath certainly thought so.
An unpleasant rumour began- though Kindra wasn’t sure how or from where the source had come. Child-killer. Murderer. Turns spent slowly building her confidence and finding her place began to unravel faster than she thought possible. Uncomfortable and desperate for a change in her circumstance, she wrote to Fort and requested protection, mentioning only that she was afraid she would be killed as punishment for a past mistake. Fort Weyr took her in, and the bluepair were placed in the Daylight Wing.
It has been two Turns since their arrival, and Kindra has settled into a comfortable routine, finally able to open up and seek out company with only mild feelings of awkwardness and anxiety. It’s a work-in-progress, with Rakalath gaily leaving bloody trails in their wake.
