ARVEN
"Headlong little one into the wild unknown
With creatures and the cold night
Stay strong, the sounds of screaming's just a sacred rite
Of death begetting new life."
- Brown Bird, Adolescence
BASICS
NAME: Arven
GENDER: Trans Male
PRONOUNS: He/Him/His
ORIENTATION: Uncertain; definitely likes girls, might like other genders? Too young for it to matter overmuch right now.
BIRTHDATE Summer of 2755
AGE: 17 as of 2772
LOCATION: Fort Weyr
OCCUPATION: Candidate
WING: N/A
APPEARANCE
EYES: Dark blue
HAIR: Dirty blonde
HEIGHT AND BUILD: Tall(ish) and scrawny; around 6'3", built like a beanpole
FULL APPEARANCE: Arven is not a handsome boy; he's a pimple-afflicted awkward gawky teenager with bad skin and a blotchy nose. His haircut is beyond unfortunate, being a literal bowl-cut -- he cuts it himself, not trusting anyone else to do it since a caretaker nicked his ear when he was six. He has a prominently weak chin and a slight overbite, and one of his teeth is chipped from the time someone tricked him into eating a rock. If asked about it, he blushes and mumbles something about tripping and falling.
His body is too tall and too willowy for a man, but too tall for him to rightfully be called a 'boy' either, stuck in that terrible awkward in-between that all young people must typically endure. Perhaps in a few years he'll fill out and begin to look the part of an adult, but for now... he looks like a skinny zitty baby, something he's painfully aware of, hiding himself in overlarge clothes and struggling to build muscles so that he can start to be seen as a man. Unfortunately, his metabolism simply is not cooperating with his efforts to bulk up, and all of his too-big clothes make him look like someone's unwanted cast-away drawer.
There's... a pungency to Arven that can't completely be blamed on his appointed task of cleaning up after the herdbeasts and runners. He scrubs, but he must not scrub hard enough, the kid had body odor that he can't seem to kick -- he hasn't quite figured out that he can't re-wear dirty clothes. D'oh!
PERSONALITY
PERSONALITY: Arven is a kind boy, soft-hearted and trusting. He follows instructions to the letter, though... he's not much good with his letters. And he's not very good at remembering things. It's very obvious that he tries his best, but that doesn't spare him the disappointed looks when he can't recite his teaching songs
He's an easy target for bullying, and may not figure out that he's being bullied unless it's spelled out for him, in which case his feelings will be hurt, but... it's easy for a young man to feel insecure, and especially one who knows he's not as bright as the other fellows, so he tries to be where he's useful, and that's been in the stables. The animals seem to take to him in the way people haven't really, and even though it bothers him that he doesn't understand people the way he wishes he did, and that it's doubtful any pretty girl (or boy, maybe?) will ever notice him, there's still a lot to be grateful for and he's happy to be at Fort, whose stability seems far for more certain than flighty High Reaches with their topsy-turvy thumbing-the-nose at tradition.
HISTORY
FAMILY: Mother is Galli, daughter of Bronzerider G'li, father is unknown [Open]
SIGNIFICANT OTHER: Unlikely
BIRTHPLACE: Fort Weyr
HISTORY: Arven was born as Gallina in Fort Weyr, the daughter of Galli and a one-off fling that she opted to keep; raised in the creche with the other children, by the time he was eight he'd realized his truth, and the Weyr being somewhat more accepting of these things, had little problem allowing him to use a new name among his peers. At twelve, he started quietly asking those around him to use he/him pronouns, and this was accepted as well.
Being trans was actually pretty straightforward for Arven; it was being intellectually ungifted that challenged him. He was horrible in Harper lessons, and needed frequent correction for even simple chores. There were three boys in particular who found their amusement by tormenting skinny Arven; they latched onto the easily fooled boy to make him the butt of increasingly unkind pranks, and through their bullying, Arven became reserved and isolated due to his increasing insecurity around others.
Now, approaching adulthood but not quite there, Arven has found a niche for himself, safely among the herdbeasts that supply the Weyr's dragons and Riders with invaluable meat. It may not be the most glorious task, but Arven doesn't mind being a stableboy and mucking the grounds. He feels useful, and he doesn't need any help figuring out what to do or how to do it; the herdbeasts are pleasant company. At seventeen, he's been Standing as a Candidate for two years but he has his reservations about whether any Hatchling would find someone like him an acceptable partner.
Of the three boys whose bullying had had such a deep impact on the boy... one left the Weyr to join the Smithcraft Hall, another transferred to Semaca, and the third still resides in Fort but has matured past being being a bully, leaving Arven still fearful and unaware that their lives have moved on when his has not. They're gone, except one, but there's a part of his mind that hasn't truly accepted it yet.
He's mostly just happy to be there, and hopes not to get injured by an indelicate hatchling. So far, he's been lucky enough to avoid mauling, though he firmly believes that they can't help it -- they're just babies, after all.