"This world don't give us nothing.
It be our lot to suffer... and our duty to fight back."
- Vol'jin
BASICS
RETIRE INFO:
Loara: Retire
Kinnirath: Adopt
NAME: Loara, Loa to her friends
PRONUNCIATION: LOW - ah - rah
GENDER: Female
PRONOUNS: She/her/hers
ORIENTATION: Demiromantic
BIRTHDATE: Early Winter 2739
AGE: 27 as of Early Spring 2767
LOCATION: Semaca Weyr
OCCUPATION: Requiem Squadmember, Hunter, Herbalist
WING: Requiem Squad
APPEARANCE
EYES: Very deep brown, almost black
HAIR: Black, long and sleek
HEIGHT AND BUILD: 6'1, thin and gaunt, slightly hunched
PLAY-BY: Tian Yi
FULL APPEARANCE:
Odd and striking, Loara stands out in a crowd despite her desire to blend in with the shadows. At full height, she reaches 6’1”, with a gaunt and unhealthy air about her. She has a tendency to hunch her shoulders and back, adding a hint of menace to her overall demeanour. When she is at ease or alone, she prefers to stay crouched down, lurking or lingering somewhere in the background. It suits her purpose to go unnoticed and unseen.
Her skin is a pale, creamy white. Almond-shaped eyes of a deep, dark brown are shadowed by heavy black brows, and her gaze carries a fierce quality that would inspire fear in even the bravest of souls. Unemotional though she may seem, Loara was once in the habit of painting her face with stark colours- like a war-mask of sorts. Nowadays she sticks to copious amounts of kohl around the lines of her eyes. She has a long and prominent nose, with wide cheekbones and an angular face. Her bow-shaped lips are adorned by two beauty marks on the left side of her face. Her long hair is jet-black, reaching midway to her back. She usually pins it up whilst performing her duties, but otherwise lets it frame her face loosely.
She is agile and dexterous. Long, slender fingers might speak of femininity, but she spends more time drawing blades than pictures; her stamina stems from Turns of hunting and travelling with her family, which has given her endurance and the ability to live with privation. She has many scars- mostly faded white streaks up and down her legs and arms. None of them especially stand out. Loara bruises easily, quite possibly the only sign of ill-health that betrays her.
PERSONALITY
PERSONALITY:
It might be hard to become properly acquainted with Loara, and to call her a friend would be a bit of a stretch. Loara keeps to herself- her small circle of trust extends to her dragon, her squad and what family remains to her. She is hard to read, and her words don’t exactly match her actions either. It’s easy to consider her irresponsible and careless, but in reality every step she takes is measured, every decision weighed: she leaves camp to hunt and provide for others, and leaves her worries behind when tackling her duties. Loara is a mysterious woman with little time for social niceties and a great deal of enthusiasm for efficiency and productivity.
The wild appeals to her: she is an instinctive and natural woman, more comfortable alone or amongst the trees and plants of Semaca. Some might think of her as ‘feral’, and whilst it is true that she enjoys, appreciates and respects nature, Loara is able to function within the confines of the Weyr and society proper. Still, she is quite fickle: sometimes she has a need for the outside world, and other times her room is enough. Restless and eager to push herself past her perceived limits, and because indolence drives her to madness, she often changes things up to keep herself on her toes. Wild and driven, Loara is a force unto herself.
She is a peculiar woman with a strange and non-traditional set of beliefs. Though she is perfectly aware that the dead rest Between, she also believes that the spirits of her ancestors provide her with guidance. Each death is celebrated and marked, with family the focal point of her life’s ambitions. She associates age with wisdom, and accords a great deal of respect to the elderly. Her close-knit family were of the habit of creating and sharing songs, passed down by generations gone, and so she keeps their music close to her heart. Loara shares her spiritual side with Kinnirath, who is deeply attuned to her family’s songs.
Though difficult to approach, Loara has a great sense of humour. She is also easy to please: do your job right (and maybe bring her back a hunting token or two). Her standards are very high, and she is both exacting in her duties and demands and merciless about their execution. Her inner voice is quite self-critical, but she has learnt to tune it out in favour of finishing her work. If perfection can be attained, then it can also be turned into a routine; when it comes to performing her daily tasks, Loara is faultless. She will never shirk her duty, although not to the point of becoming a pedant or a stick-in-the-mud. She is not inclined to lead or assume a position of power, and would rather take care of herself and leave the rest of living-folk alone.
Her favourite pastimes include hunting and keeping both her weapons and her mind sharp. People are a little more confusing than simple metal and tracking, which makes falling in love… tricky, to say the least. It will take a lot of time to break down her defences, built from aloofness and Turns of mistrust. People are complicated- animals are not. Nature is not. Nature is harsh but it does not take a fool to read the weather and know what’s coming next. People, though… well, they do that weird thing with boundaries and it’s just very confusing. Loara could be a good and loyal companion to the right person.
She is very private, but those who have the opportunity of glimpsing her weyr will note that she has a growing collection of small blades (the use of which she likes to rotate, depending on her mood) and masks, usually made from wood that she finds. They are painted in bright colours and adorned with fangs or claws she collects from wild felines or other animals. Though a capable carver and whitler, she is not so talented with general carpentry and handywork.
HISTORY
FAMILY:
- Father: Voljin {2709 - deceased}
- Mother: Kimara {2715 - deceased}
- Grandfather: Senaji {2688 - deceased}
- Uncle: Senovi {2711 - deceased}
- Aunt: Sirka {2713 - deceased}
- Half-Brother: Kenaji {2737 - missing, presumed deceased}
BIRTHPLACE: Fort mountain range wilderness
HISTORY:
TW: Death
Although not technically Holdless, Loara and her family divested themselves of Hold authority long before she was born. She was born into a wanderer’s life, with a close-knit tribalistic family as her only anchor to society. Her grandfather, Senaji, had passed leadership to his son some Turns before her birth. Voljin, who was also her father, was a strong, talented and clever man. He possessed cunning and skill that kept his family fed and safe. His hunting prowess had no equal, but he had methods of handling Threadfall as well.
It was a complicated family structure. Voljin’s younger brother, Senovi, was second-in-command, with Senaji providing counsel when necessary. Kimara and Sirka were distantly-removed cousins (and sisters) who had joined their group when Voljin had been younger. Kimara developed her own fierce hunting style, forging a bloody reputation amongst her fellows. Sirka took on the mantle of healer, and took lessons from Senaji until she was confident in her abilities. Sirka had her first child with Voljin in 2737- a boy whom they named Kenaji. Two Turns later, Loara was born to Kimara and Voljin.
They made their home, if it could be called as much, in a deep cave within the Fort mountain range. There, Voljin taught his son and daughter to hunt and forage. Loara was a fast learner. She was especially interested in the use of plants as remedies, though her early concoctions were as risky as they were impotent. She had sought to learn, from her grandfather, the mixing of poisons from plants; but it was Sirka who taught her a plant’s attributes, warning against careless experimentation and cautioning her to not use poison in her traps. Naturally curious as Loara was, the idea of poison and its uses were seductive, and Sirka knew better than to forbid it outright. Instead, she extracted a promise from her niece that poison would not be used to kill, but the knowledge of it would give the girl some idea of how to treat poison-induced symptoms in the future. Kenaji, who was physically stronger, took a shine to crafting his own basic weapons and traps. Their fierce competitiveness very nearly rivaled the deep sibling love they held for each other.
The family took up safe travelling and trading when the children were older. Loara never enjoyed spending too long in the Holds proper. It felt to her like someone was always watching her, and the lack of cover made her uncomfortable. As they aged, Loara and Kenaji learnt more of their family’s ways, and whiled away the night learning and singing the old songs of their family, both present and past. It was during this time that Loa acquired her reverence for family- especially for those older members, such as Senaji. The old man was a font of wisdom- with a treasure trove of experiences and stories to share.
It was horrifying to return to camp one evening and find him bloody and broken, mauled by something unknown to Loara and her brother. Sirka returned next, and despite the lack of blood ties, cried the loudest as they ignited his pyre. Voljin grew cooler from then on, more careful, more calculating and more conscious of danger than ever before. Kimara complained that he was being overly cautious, but less than a Turn later Senovi was killed as well, in a similar fashion. Voljin decided that the land was cursed, the spirits displeased with their presence.
The five of them travelled far. Now, settled near Southern Boll, they attempted to reassemble the pieces of their lives. There was more trading than hunting at that stage in Loa's life. She half-suspected Voljin was trying to involve himself in the lives of others; even though she respected him greatly, she was not thrilled at the prospect of their lives changing again. There were issues in the wider world, apparently, but Loara wanted very little to do with them.
Around Loa’s sixteenth Turnday, Kimara fell ill. Despite Sirka’s attempts to relieve the symptoms, the woman passed away a few sevendays later. Death, Loa realised, followed them. It was a sobering experience that left her feeling hollow. Even her father seemed shocked by her sudden passing, and had no counsel for his children. It seemed that the curse that had first struck them near Fort had pursued them to the warm jungle of Southern Boll.
Sirka was struck next. Loara remembered frantic days and nights spent at her side, absorbing hours of information from the woman, between her searches for herbs that might relieve her aunt’s pain. Nothing seemed to work. Muscle weakness, fever that devolved into hallucinations, copious amounts of vomit. Loara remembered, between snatches of restless sleep, wondering what her family had done to deserve this fate. Sirka died about ten days into her illness.
It was a plague, in Voljin’s opinion. A sickness of which he had never heard before, the symptoms untreatable by their commonly used remedies. He entreated his daughter to visit the Hold for more information, whilst he and Kenaji tended to camp. Though reluctant, she agreed, and made the trip to Southern Boll Hold alone. It was fortune, or fate, that she had gone. The day after her arrival, Loara took ill and was confined to the Hold’s infirmary. It was a painful and blurred time of her life, but she recovered after two weeks.
Loara took another couple of days after her recovery to take stock of the situation, and learn what she could from the Journeymen Healers there. She had told them that she was orphaned after a sickness had devastated her cothold- her story wasn't questioned, and Loa rather thought there was more truth to it than she realised. In the dead of night she took some of the Hold’s medicine and slipped away. If she was lucky, her father and brother would be as right as rain, and the medicine would be unneeded.
Luck did not smile upon her. Her father had died, not a day before from a quick assessment. Bloody, his stomach impaled by… something, he looked frail and broken and very small. Loa didn't remember much of the rest of the day, or much of the week. Kenaji didn't return at any point during the funeral. She sang alone, and kept the camp alive a little longer. Her brother had still not come back. Feeling lost and aimless, Loara deliberated on her future. If her family were… gone… then what was her future? Or her present?
She searched for a trace of her sibling in the surrounding jungle, but either he was gone, or he had hidden himself. She made her way to Southern Boll Hold once more, hoping he might have gone there for medical help if he had taken ill. She waited. She waited a solid Turn, taking odd jobs around the Hold to feed herself, and bartered for shelter. She was eighteen when she decided she could wait no longer, and sought work as a guard for a passing caravan. Her hunting skills served her as a good base for training in fighting. Even amongst the Holders, she never left her room without a blade on her person- preferably two.
Her caravan-work took her across Pern, giving her the opportunity to glean for information on her family. She wished they hadn't been so secluded. Loara knew, from her grandfather’s stories, that there were other branches of the extended family who travelled and survived in the wild. She just didn’t know who. She still sang to herself whilst she travelled, hoping others would join her, but she was always alone.
At twenty-two, she was Searched whilst waiting for a caravan to leave Fort Hold. Weyrs, and dragonriders, had been so removed from her life. In a fit of impulsiveness, she accepted the offer. In the following weeks, however, she came to regret the decision. The rigidity and closeness of candidacy, coupled with rules that didn't make any sense to her. Still… it wasn't in her nature to give up and leave, though every voice in her mind was screaming at her to run.
The Hatching rolled around in the late summer weeks of 2762. Loara attended, though she didn't Stand so much as Lurk. Preferring to keep to herself, she hadn't ingratiated herself with her fellow candidates especially well. She stood at the back, a dark and serious look on her face as dragonet after dragonet hatched. She hadn’t quite known what to expect, though she had listened to the stories. The baby dragons were awkward and helpless, stirring in her some ancient and long-buried need to protect them.
A rather dark, large and green egg- the subject of many ghostly rumours amongst the candidates- broke piece by piece. The dragon within emerged with a commanding air that couldn't help but draw the eye. The garnet- its deep red and purple colouring could not be mistaken for anything else- wove its way slowly around the semi-circle of female candidates.
Then its gaze met Loara’s, and for a moment the young woman found herself lost in those intense red eyes. A moment later, the dragon was dashing at her. Loara crouched down, ready to roll away if she needed to.
But the dragon came to a controlled stop before her. Loara, we have heard your song. The deep, rumbling voice echoed inside of Loara’s mind. Her heart stopped beating, her breath caught in her throat. And we have felt your sadness. The Old Queen has given us to you. We are your Kinnirath. We hope we will become your family.
The rush of feelings tumbled through her, body and soul. Kinnirath stared up at her with rainbow eyes, and Loa realised tears were running down her cheeks. Turns of loneliness, of questions, of fear and sadness threatened to drown her as Kinnirath broke down the dam of her emotions. She knelt upon the sand, then wrapped her arms around the sleek neck. It didn't seem real. Kinnirath felt like a multitude of people come to life in her mind: her mother and father, strong and brave, her aunt and uncle, wise and compassionate, her brother and grandfather who were loving and protective. They were gone, but Kinnirath carried them with her, in her heart. Loara could reach them through her dragon.
And she understood Loara and her music.
Weyrling training was difficult. Complex authority relationships dictated social customs, but Loara had a difficult time wrapping her head around the rules and conventions. On top of that, the essence of politics lingered in the background, more distraction to what Loara perceived as a simple and straightforward duty. Kinnirath explained it to her well enough: the dragon’s understanding of hierarchy was sensible enough, if reverent, so she framed it with the concept of family. The Weyrlingmasters were the leaders of their family, and the Weyrleaders- the Old Queens and Old Soliders- occupied the same venerated position as her grandfather had.
Still, upon graduating, Loara doggedly pursued the possibility of transferring to a smaller, quieter place. A permanent posting at a Hold, maybe? The politics- inter-Weyr dragon attacks, kidnappings, murder and death- were all becoming a bit too much for her to process. Even Kinnirath, patience and thoughtfulness incarnate- struggled to make sense of the violence. Her peaceful, protective nature became most of Loara’s world through the Turn of 2764.
Semaca Weyr was recognised in the spring of 2765. Loara was quick to apply for a transfer, and more than glad to receive word back that the dragonpair had been accepted. Her hunting and fighting skills recognised for what they were, and Kinnirath’s size and strength measured and proven in disastrous Threadfall, they were assigned to the Requiem Squad. For the past two Turns, the garnetrider has done her duty with fierce stubbornness, utterly dedicating herself to her squadmates and new Weyr.
