"lyrics or quotes here"
BASICS
NAME: M'ten, formerly Marten,
GENDER: Cis man
PRONOUNS: He/him/his
ORIENTATION: Asexual, technically panromantic, but deeply in denial about his own capacity for emotion
BIRTHDATE: Early Summer 2746
AGE: 29 as of 2775
LOCATION: Semaca Weyr
OCCUPATION: Rider
WING: Chopin Squad
APPEARANCE
EYES: Blue
HAIR: Dark brown, unkempt and wavy
HEIGHT AND BUILD: 6'2",
PLAY-BY: Snake Plissken (Escape from New York)
EXPY SOURCE: N/A
FULL APPEARANCE:
M'ten could probably best be described as 'rugged'. He keeps his brown hair long, and maintains a permanent state of stubble on his face. He has an eyepatch over his left eye. He has a fairly square-ish face, though his chin is more pointed. He has plenty of muscle mass to him as well, and tends to wear leathers more often than not (though he can be bullied into wearing something else, though he refuses to wear anything that isn't black or brown). He tends to prefer clothes that are a little more distressed or worn. He'll never let his clothes get so distressed as to actually start falling apart, but he seems to have a personal vendetta against looking clean. He has an almost perpetual scowl or look of annoyance on his face.
PERSONALITY
PERSONALITY:
M'ten has some interesting ideas about what makes a man. He learned a lot of it growing up without much adult supervision, surrounded by other young boys who came up with their own hierarchical structure, usually based on who could fight the best, spit the farthest, find the grossest bug, and other things young boys en masse tend to find important. As a result (and because he was Searched on the younger end) he never really grew out of that mentality. He believes men should be self-reliant, should be strong and fast, shouldn't be fazed by anything. The strongest can do anything they want, so it's best to be strongest. As a candidate, he'd even tell people he lost his eye in a knife fight at thirteen to seem tougher than he was.
He's mellowed out a little since then, especially with Noggoth's influence, and he doesn't expect perfect manliness from others anymore, but he still holds himself to his own personal standards. Namely, he hates letting on that he has emotions (in particular his fondness for the pale pink dragon that lives in his head) or that he ever feels pain. He is slowly and begrudgingly acknowledging to himself that he does in fact like small, soft things, that he might be slightly touch-starved, and that yeah, it might be nice to find someone to hold hands with. With Noggoth's help, he's gradually realized that being the toughest and strongest doesn't mean much if you don't have anything in your life you care about enough to protect. He's not exactly romantic, nor will he ever be, and he's not exactly a chivalrous knight setting out to protect everyone and save the world but maybe it wouldn't be the worst thing to let down his guard a little every now and again? Maybe. He's not quite ready for that yet, though.
For now, he's still proud, a little brash, and willing to get into a fist fight at the first inkling that someone's insulting him, or laughing at the color of his dragon. Or...laughing about anything to do with him, really. But he does allow himself to relax and let his mask of manhood slip somewhat these days, which he never did in his youth, and he's a little happier for doing so. He can be quite clever, particularly when it comes to tactics or physical pursuits, but he downplays his own intelligence, preferring people to think him strong rather than smart, not believing people can be seen as both.
HISTORY
FAMILY:
Parents - Drudges in Nerat
A few siblings, also in Nerat
SIGNIFICANT OTHER: None
BIRTHPLACE: Nerat Hold
HISTORY:
CW: childhood illness, loss of eye
M'ten grew up the son of drudges, one of a gaggle of drudges children running wild in the streets. His was a world where respect was won through fists, and he learned to tussle early on. He developed extremely strict (and distinctly Holder) based perceptions about what a man was supposed to be and strove for that ideal. When he was about seven, he got an eye infection that wasn't noticed in time to save his left eye, but he decided that an eyepatch made him look fierce and intimidating.
When he was Searched at 15, his ego became inflated something horrible, and his mind filled with visions of him as a mighty warrior atop a bronze. As time went on, and hatching after hatching left him standing, those dreams began to become slightly more attainable: He'd settle for a timid brown if it was large or, shell, even a small blue as long as it was sufficiently fierce. But he wanted to fight thread, dammit, to prove he was strong and capable, not be left standing on the sands!
And then the day came when he did impress. Not to a bronze, or a brown, or even a blue, but to a pale pink garnet of all things, and worse, one that was about as far from being a warrior as one could get. At first he resented her, but she seemed immune to his ire and eventually he began to notice that no one seemed to care that he had a pink dragon, much less laugh at him over it. In fact, a lot of people seemed to like her more than him, which baffled him. Eventually, her incessant chatter broke down his defenses, and even he begrudgingly began to like her too. Enough to be concerned; her lumbering pace made her ill-suited to thread-fighting wings, but her constant down-playing of crises made her a bad choice for a Healer's wing. There was no place for her in a conventional Weyr, so he put in a transfer for Semaca, where she could contribute at her own, leisurely pace and still be safe. Though, if anyone asks, he'd say it was because he understands how pirates operate much better than typical Weyrfolk.
