"In time, all things are possible..."
- Nozdormu
BASICS
RETIRE INFO:
N’ox: Retire
Jitteboth: Adopt
NAME: N’ox, formerly Norrdox, unfortunate victim of many nicknames including Knock-Knock, Door-Knock, Noxxy, Toxic Noxic, Doc, etc. It makes him cry on the inside.
GENDER: Male
PRONOUNS: He/him/his
ORIENTATION: Heterosexual
BIRTHDATE: Late Autumn 2739
AGE: 27 as of Late Summer 2767
LOCATION: Semaca Weyr
OCCUPATION: Brownrider, archivist, scribe, scholar
WING: Nocturne Wing
APPEARANCE
EYES: Deep and unreadable brown
HAIR: Black with hints of coppery brown, a little bit fancy
HEIGHT AND BUILD: 5’11, muscular and stocky
PLAY-BY: Ranveer Singh
FULL APPEARANCE:
N’ox leaves a little bit of an impression after a first encounter: he is not especially tall, but possesses an air of knight-in-shining-armour/stalwart defender. With an intensely piercing gaze and impeccable posture, he might even be a little bit frightening to the young and uninitiated. Maybe. If you’re scared of a man who is usually buried up to the nose in records, that is.
With an angular face, high cheekbones and a long nose, N’ox executes haughtiness with very little effort or desire on his part. His dark brown gaze might seem soulful, but because of the intensity of his stare, it is more disarming than charming. He has practiced the art of the unemotional stare- fear the man whose smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes. The smile he does wear is one of wry amusement- his favoured expression when dealing with emotional beings who aren’t quite as easy to read as the hide he so loves.
Perhaps his most striking feature is his hair, particularly of the facial variety. With a magnificent, bushy beard and a well-trimmed moustache, N’ox might have been a prince or a sultan in a past life. Or maybe he’s just fancy? It’s the sort of moustache that can be twirled whilst contemplating the next nefarious plan. Not surprisingly, N’ox spends an undisclosed amount of time maintaining his facial hair. The hair on the top of his head is also quite a sight- usually swept back with a comb, a dark and deep brown that borders on black.
By most standards, N’ox is a little bit fancy. His clothing, whilst mostly riding gear, is immaculately kept and maintained. His Gatherwear, however… Out come the long-sleeved, frilly shirts, the deep, jewel-red vests and coats, and an unusual penchant for silk or softer fabrics. N’ox can also be frequently seen shirtless in his weyr, not out of some sensual love for his body, but because he likes the freedom.
PERSONALITY
PERSONALITY:
Serious. That’s the first word on people’s lips when asked to describe N’ox. He is a serious, somber man with a need to fix the world and shoulder its burdens. N’ox would call himself a realist, rather than a pessimist, because he firmly believes that the world is in dire need of assistance and that things are bad. He remains hopeful, of course, in the face of all that is good; but the fact of the matter is that humans are, overall, pretty forsking awful. Something is going to go wrong. It’s inevitable.
He does have a sense of humour- it usually manifests when things go as poorly as he expects, as either dry deadpan or wry remarks. He has a kind smile for those less fortunate, and a paternal, caring compassionate side that comes to life when he judges people in need of his help. Of course, they might not- but that’s N’ox’s obstination coming into play: clearly he is the best man suited to the job of helping you. Of course. Nobody else is going to do it quite as well as he will. That’s the N’ox-guarantee.
Extremely stubborn and hardheaded, he does not relent from his task or pursuit regardless of what it might cost him in health. He has been known to spend sleepless nights looking for a cure for his sister’s bad dreams, despite his lack of general medical knowledge as a whole; or to throw himself into training up some future young dragonrider if he senses their potential and wants to steer them onto a better course of life choices. He works in mysterious ways, not entirely governed by a strict set of principles or morals: more, he sees life as something he can influence and change, and every moment in time is another event that requires his delicate touch and moulding. In that sense, he can be quite manipulative, but usually it is to the benefit of others.
With a fondness for record-keeping and an absolutely brilliant memory for past events, N’ox has never been able to shake his scholarly approach to life, not since he was a little boy. Everything can be studied, noted down, properly recorded, then studied again. The past contains the answers to all of the future’s questions. It’s just a matter of digging deep enough. He is meticulous, to the point of fanaticism, in the treatment of hides and information, burying himself in scribe and archivist work until Jitteboth reminds him that his hunger has now become the dragon’s own. N’ox is an intelligent and well-read man, who genuinely believes most solutions to people’s problems lie in a dusty hide somewhere. He’ll go find it for you, don’t worry.
When it comes to affairs of the heart, N’ox is rather formal, almost traditional. With an idealisation of romantic relationships stemming from watching his parents, he will court a woman with fervent and enthusiastic attentions. It is a far cry from the dragonrider ways, which he doesn’t scorn per se, but also has not adopted as his own. Flights and multiple partners are well and good for some, but he is a practical man who believes in the sanctity of a pure and monogamous relationship. Stiff, his sisters might call him. His heart is a little hard and difficult to melt. But once he does find that one requited love, he will be loyal until his last breath.
N’ox is not a boldly angry man- actually, he is not very demonstrably emotional at all. He is quiet in most social situations, preferring to keep his feelings hidden in case they are somehow used against him. This isn’t to say that he won’t hold a grudge: people who cross him find themselves the victims of his slow, manipulative schemes. He understands the necessity of punishment, and will mete out justice where he see fits- as fairly as a single-minded man can.
He has few friends and family, but is steadfastly loyal to them. They are the (un)willing benefactors of his unwavering protection, and there is nothing N’ox wouldn’t do to keep them safe, risking life and reputation to ensure their wellbeing. He finds it difficult to confide in them despite his closeness, as he hates the thought of burdening them.
HISTORY
FAMILY:
- Father: Orran {2710 - masterharper}
- Mother: Naeva {2716 - journeyman Harper}
- Adopted brother: Ky’lai {2740 - Bluerider}, formerly Kaylaiec
- Adopted sister: Aystara {2742}
- Adopted sister: Ysera {2744}
BIRTHPLACE: Fort Harperhall
HISTORY:
The only child of harpers Orran and Naeva, Norrdox grew up loved and learned. He was surrounded by knowledge, and developed an insatiable appetite for reading and learning that not even his parents’ personal collection of records could satisfy. They were pleased, of course. To have such a wonderful, gifted child follow in their footsteps… it was all they had truly wanted.
So it came as no surprise when Nor’ apprenticed to the harpers at ten Turns of age. He was studious and smart- an utter swot and Harper’s pet. He dealt with the few bullies who thought it might be a smart idea to cross him with a clever and subtle hand. He never properly made friends- he had a tendency to set himself apart from others, when possible- but he certainly earned their respect, grudging or otherwise.
He walked the tables at eighteen, and received his first posting soon after. Dawn Hold was a minor hold in Fort territories, its main trade being runner stock of racing qualities. Once he arrived, he found that life there was not as rosy as had been described to him.
Lord Galykros was a large and impatient man, prone to aggression when things did not go his way. He subjugated his Holders through a mixture of overt threats and material misery. He had not yet taken a Lady, but had acquired fosterlings from nearby cotholds and pronounced them his children. Norrdox was smart enough to realise his subtlety and discretion was of the utmost value, and he reached out to the terrorised youngsters during their private lessons.
Aystara and Ysera were blood sisters from a poor cothold family, bold Aystara being a couple of Turns older than the quieter Ysera. Kaylaiec, whose easy-going sense of humour was a balm in their difficult lives, was the oldest of the three fosterlings, and the fourth son of another minor Holder. Sent away to learn management of a hold from Galykros, Kaylaiec chafed under the man’s dominant rule.
Norrdox got to thinking, as he very frequently did. Dawn Hold’s steward, Neltharis, was a disciplined yet kindly man, intent on tempering his Lord’s natural maliciousness with subtle, compassionate gestures towards their holders. The harper approached the man about the treatment of the fosterlings, and though Neltharis was aware of their plight, he did not know what he could do about it: if something befell Galykros, he would be the most likely suspect.
So Norrdox fell on information-gathering. He wrote a letter to an acquaintance asking for advice in how to handle difficult holders, and got a very different letter in return. It suggested that there was a method of dealing with the issue, and that he ought to expect a visit. Steeling himself for the worst, Norrdox agreed to meet with Majima.
The wherhandler extracted Norrdox’s word for a future favour, in exchange for the discrete handling of the problem. Through another of Majima’s contacts, Galykros’ death came about in the late winter of 2759, and Neltharis was elected as the acting Lord of Dawn Hold.
Norrdox struggled with his conscience and guilt. Once or twice, he had mentioned to his students that he wished he could give them a brighter future. They had grown attached to him as he had to them, and though they supported him in whatever avenue he would take, there was still an unsettled, anxious undercurrent; Ysera especially, whose pacifist tendencies guided her life, found Galykros’ ‘death’ difficult to stomach. It might not have been by Norrdox’s hand, but it was as like. He told none of them the price that he might be asked to pay in some obscure, unknown future.
Norrdox was insistent on giving the three youths better lives, and with Neltharis at the head of the Hold the young journeyman suspected that their futures lay elsewhere. Thanks to his parents’ influence in the Harperhall, he was able to arrange a transfer to Fort Weyr- a place of safety and relative anonymity. The four of them were accepted, and left for the Weyr in the late spring of 2760.
The four of them were Searched soon after their arrival. It wasn’t until the summer of 2761, with the Fantasies clutch, that the young man Impressed. The large Maelstrom egg, black and gold, all but exploded after a few moments of fighting. The dragonet within was dark, almost foreboding in appearance save for the brightly marked wingsails. As he strode across the sands, nudging another egg as he went, Norrdox couldn’t help but stare. This creature was the most beautiful, the most hulking baby behemoth he had ever laid eyes on- which wasn’t saying much, given that he had only spent a Turn or so in dragons’ company on a regular basis.
And then the brown turned to him. Norrdox, we have much work to do. Feed your Jitteboth, as we await the others.
Norrdox became N’ox. The brownpair were diligent in their training, and Jitteboth’s disciplined compassion became the driving force behind the man’s desire to do well by others. They were both creatures of few words, but the deep, blossoming love they shared was only strengthened by their daily study and practice. They were a force to be reckoned with in class- N’ox’s cleverness with Jitteboth’s almost militaristic precision in drills and formation training.
In the late summer of 2766, N’ox applied for a transfer to Semaca Weyr, where he hoped his harpering skills might be of use, and where Jitteboth might feel more useful and helpful. The pair have been there ever since.
