"Where can I bury all of my suffering
Casualties of poison and pride
Where is the line between losing everything
And giving it all to say that you've tried"
-Aviators "Apocalypse State of Mind"
BASICS
NAME: Lanselot
GENDER: Cis Male
PRONOUNS: He/him
ORIENTATION: Not Interested Aro/Ace
BIRTHDATE: Late Winter 2725
AGE: 50 as of Early Spring 2775
LOCATION: High Reaches Weyr
OCCUPATION: Wherhandler
WING: Sunburst Squad, Ground Crew
APPEARANCE
EYES: Gray
HAIR: Black with significant graying
HEIGHT AND BUILD: 6'6", fit
PLAY-BY: Lanselot Tartaros (Tactics Ogre)
EXPY SOURCE: N/A
FULL APPEARANCE:
A taller than average man with a seemingly permanent scowl on his face, Lanselot looks like a man who knows exactly what to do at all times. He wears visibly weathered and faded, but well-mended clothes, though color is of no import to him. His hair is graying and rarely tied back, often just draping around his shoulders and back. He wears a black leather eyepatch, missing his right eye due to one of multiple fights he got into in his reckless youth. He keeps a short sword at his side, one given to him from his days as a respected hold guard.
PERSONALITY
PERSONALITY:
A hardened, bitter man who sees very little good in the world, Lanselot is the farthest from an optimist but he is no doomsayer either. He is a practical person, with no belief or care for superstitions or fanciful tales. To him, dragonriders are a necessary evil to deal with, but he would be far happier if he never had to interact with them ever again, the grudge he holds from his youth running deep. He is not rude, but he is curt and very to the point. There is no dancing around an issue with him, and though he keeps his cards close to his chest he rarely will outright lie. He may omit details, but he will assert he was not outright lying. Once upon a time in his youth he was a bright-eyed, noble young man, but he finds no nobility in himself or the world around him.
Though Lanselot often comes off as cold and unfeeling, he would much rather be seen that way instead of letting anyone in and close. Losing his love long ago left a wound deep to his core that he has never recovered from. He is more comfortable keeping the world at arm's length, and if others find him unpleasant, then so be it. He cares little for the opinions of those around him, and any friends he makes are a rarity. He finds himself most at peace when left alone, or when reading old record skins of turns past. He will not return to the holds.
HISTORY
FAMILY: Sellonda (Father, deceased), Lannera (Mother, deceased)
SIGNIFICANT OTHER: Eleanor (deceased)
BIRTHPLACE: A minor hold outside High Reaches Hold
HISTORY:
TW: harassment, murder
Born as a bright eyed, optimistic young man, Lanselot knew at a young age that he wanted to serve the hold as best he could. Growing up in the thick of the crop blight in the North, followed by the cattle illness, the young man learned quickly that he needed to pull himself together and not "be a child" in order to help those around him. He would volunteer to go forage with other hold guards, to fish, to do what he could even though he was just a young man in a large hold.
At twelve he apprenticed to be a guard, and worked dutifully to train until the age of twenty, when he spent his hard-earned marks on a large wher egg. What hatched was a large, stunningly colored brown wher. Bonding thoroughly and messily, Selosk became his steadfast partner, and the two were soon promoted to the hold's wher guard. Lanselot took his duty seriously, checking on other holders and doing what he could to make their lives easier as the Interval War was in full swing. Though the hold was rarely raided, it was frequently visited by Riders for "search" and the occasional ale at a tavern, though such visits were mostly for intimidation and control.
Lanselot, through much of his time, grew close to a weaver named Eleanor, and the two were very soon bethrothed. Though Lanselot had little to offer save for a stable life as a hold guard's wife, Eleanor was the sunshine in his life that he needed, and he loved her dearly. Selosk took to her as well, often staying up in the mornings to make sure that she could go to the traders and markets without issue.
However, it was on one late evening, when Lanselot and Eleanor were in their thirties, that things changed. Two bronzeriders who had stopped at the hold for "search" and more than their share of ale and tithes, had grown drunk on their hide and began to catcall and yell vile things at the young woman. Lanselot, trying to do his duty proper, repeatedly tried to de-escalate the situation, right up until one of the men grabbed his beloved. He and Selosk did not hesitate to strike and attack the two men. In the fight that followed, his eye was cut out, and Eleanor - trying to stop the fighting - was stabbed by one of the bronzeriders. The two riders fled hastily, and Lanselot held his beloved as she passed there on the street, weeping like a child.
The man changed that day.
The Lord Holder struck a deal with the Weyr, to exile Lanselot and his wher, and to give all the man had to Golre's madness in exchange for leniency and no retaliation. Taking the clothes on his back, and a small seashell pendant that Eleanor had kept, the pair left the hold forever, swearing to never return. He spent years with trader caravans, selling his services as a guard, until after the war had passed. Even as Thread began to fall, he kept to his service, until the caravan stopped at High Reaches Weyr. All his anger focused, he was shocked to see the Weyr wholly changed and different.
He decided he would stay, if not to keep an eye on the the Weyr and ensure it would not fall back into its old ways - though he was one man - or at least that was what he told himself when he moved in to the wherhandler barracks.
