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Hum of Bronze Husk

parish
 
    Sat Apr 04, 2020 6:56 pm
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Hum of Bronze Husk

HUM
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"When you reach the end of your rope, tie a knot and hang on." -Franklin D. Roosevelt

BASICS

RETIRE INFO: retire
NAME: Hum
GENDER: male
PRONOUNS: he/him/his
ORIENTATION: Hetero

BIRTHDATE: Summer, 2745
AGE: 25 as of 2770
LOCATION: High Reaches Weyr
OCCUPATION: wherhandler
WING: Sunburst

APPEARANCE
EYES: brown
HAIR: dark blonde
HEIGHT AND BUILD: 6’0, devastatingly average
PLAY-BY: William Jagnow
FULL APPEARANCE:

From his arrogant strut and freshly shined boots to the crisp linens of his tailored shirts it’s clear that Hum is absolutely full of himself. If he could afford it he would only wear the very best of everything. Since he can’t, his wardrobe is a mix of other handler’s castoffs and whatever fancy thing he spots first when a few coins hit his palm (or anything that Husk gets away with swiping). He’s convinced that no one will notice his tattered belt or stained trousers if they’re layered under a handsome leather coat.

Under the clothes is evidence of a hungry childhood. A body that could have grown taller, stronger, and healthier if a backwater mine hadn’t been his cradle. Lean muscle wraps thin arms that are deceptively strong. But not fast. Never that. When he runs for any length of time Hum starts to wheeze and cough. He has a few personal scars. A fat round knot under his left armpit. Long scratches on his forearms and shins. Calloused fingers from years of labor intensive work. He thinks he’s rather handsome, but overall he’s just another average guy.

PERSONALITY
PERSONALITY:

Hum is a little crazy. Not nearly as loud as most people expect after hearing stories about him, or even watching him from a distance. In fact he’s a man of very few words. None of them ever carefully chosen. His quips are always barbed, and his rare compliments short and sweet. There will never be any long, illuminating conversations. He’ll never quote poetry at you, or sing you a song. At best he’ll give you a nod and an approving ‘mhm’. But there’s a lot going on under that quietness.

Hot headed, marginally impulsive, and unflinchingly fearless he is a minor force to be reckoned with. He’s always had a chip on his shoulder for authority figures and isn’t afraid of challenging them. Typically it takes a physical scuffle to put him in his place. Just don’t expect him to stay there. Hum is ambitious, even if he doesn’t have a direction for all his aims just yet. He doesn’t ever want to be hungry again. Or embarrassed of where he comes from. Or overlooked! No. He’s going to be a somebody someday!

All that capacity for passion makes him obsessively loyal too. He tends to hyperfocus on tasks, which makes him a thorough worker. People know he won’t likely repeat what he hears and that makes them comfortable gossiping in front of him. Despite his inclination to be nonverbal most of the time, he is very sociable and usually enjoys being in groups. Especially if he can be the center of it.

HISTORY
FAMILY: Lathum- mother
SIGNIFICANT OTHER:
BIRTHPLACE: mining cothold
HISTORY:

He was born a small, quiet infant that inherited weak lungs from his mother. It made him a slow, pensive child often left behind. That never much improved no matter what remedies were recommended. If anyone in the tiny cothold knew who had fathered him, they never said. None of the men treated him like a son, or claimed him in any fashion. His mother, Lathum, provided no further insights. Despite being frail and often sickly she was well liked in the hold for the softness of her soothing disposition that made her perfect for minding the babies and toddlers of busier parents. Her work seemed to sap the energy right out of her; Leaving none for the raising of her own child. Early on he proved himself a right nuisance by stealing from the kitchens and picking fights. If he were stronger or healthier he might have even been a bully.

Instead he was just an annoyance. Put to work early so that the whole place might find some peace when he was too tired to harass the miners or tease the cook. Hum was willing to do anything that got him out of boring lessons, even if his already poor education suffered for it. That included fitting into tight spots down in the mine, hauling carts twice his size up and down the shaft, and even feeding the clutches of wherlets the cothold raised. He was fearless, or too stupid to be scared. His mother was too tired, or too unattached to care.

By thirteen he was a real drudge. Busting his knuckles in the mines from dusk to dawn to care for the whers they used in the mines. Always streaked in dirt. Always scratched to bits. Always sore. Always hungry. A resentment for the smallness of his life had started to build. He had never shown an affinity to anything other than slogging meat at wherlings he wasn’t allowed to Impress, though, and dream as he might, he was easily dissuaded from leaving to learn a trade. Who would take him? Did he even know how to get to the Crafthall? The want for more planted itself in his spirit where it rooted deep to be fed by the dispassion he felt every day when he woke up to the same monotony. Kiss mother on the cheek. Grab lunch from the table. Work, work, work, work work. Eat. Sleep. Repeat. Forever. For the rest of his life if he didn’t find a way out.

The opportunity came when he was twenty-two. Tension in the mines had been building for a few years. Spurred on by the right accusations laid at the right time. Everyone knew that the mine was running dry. It had always been an offshoot of the nearby mining hold. Just a good, healthy vain that needed picking for a few generations. Theirs would be the last, though, and no one knew where they would go or what they would do when it was all gone. Not even the self proclaimed hold cotholder. After the duel, some would say he hadn’t deserved the end he met. But that was after. In the days that lead to it, those same voices reminded Hum of a childhood stained by humiliations and disappointments. They spoke to him of changes that could benefit the whole community if someone was brave enough to step up, fed him dreams that fit the size of his oppressed ego just right. And why not? Why couldn’t he challenge the fat old cotholder? He wasn’t afraid of the watchwher he rode. He fed it breakfast every night and shovelled it’s stinking den clean every morning!

The wher knew too. Recognized the opportunity for a better life and grasped between his jaws mercilessly. He knew the difference between the hand that snuck him rabbits at midnight versus the hand that used starvation as a means of control. There was very little fighting; Hum came out with a deep gouge under his left armpit. The wher stuck his nose to the bleeding. It could have been a happy ending- but Hum wasn’t cut from the cloth of valor. He was a young man of big ambition who had gone unnoticed most of his life. Suddenly he was the most talked about man around. People wanted his opinion. He had control of the alpha wher, who chose the name Husk forging any connection to his previous handler. And that gave him control of the cothold as a whole. At least, Hum and Husk thought it did.

They proved themselves poor leaders and general delinquents rather quickly, though. Not even a season saw their food stores depleting, the mine was still running dry, and Hum’s swaggering nature did not make him a favorite of the larger hold they couldn’t afford to tithe anymore. While they got along fine, they were not a real team. Husk didn’t fully trust his young handler, and Hum wasn’t interested in the sort of hard work Husk thought they should be doing. The wher, it turned out, had ambitions too. He wanted to do work that mattered, not chase tunnelsnakes out of filthy mines for the rest of his life. Hum didn’t want to either, but he did want to be in charge of the cothold. He wanted to be a full on, respected, and maybe even admired, lord of a large hold. All they ended up being was lazy. The pair were the only ones surprised when a stern-faced guard from the larger hold came to round up the wherlings running amok in the countryside. It didn’t take him long to see the root of the issues the cothold was facing. After a few nights of listening to the old man’s stories Hum and Husk decided together that what they really wanted to do was join a ground crew. Living in the weyr had seemed an impossible dream to Hum, but now he had Impressed. Why not? And Husk thought it sounded like glorious and important work. Pleased with their idea, they headed off to High Reaches Weyr.

Turns out all a man had to do to get a place on a squad was ask. So ask Hum did. They were given a place in the Weyr, a small one that didn't please Hum who still moaned about his ambitions and dreams- but he always shows up to patrols and practices anyway. Not even late, thanks to Husk's eagerness to perform. Together the pair have decided to put in the work, and eventually they might even learn to function as a seamless team. Maybe they’ll never be good, steady, dependable guards but Hum will always be fearless, and Husk will always want to be a hero. So there’s no one better to have at your back in a Threadfall.
Last edited by parish on Tue Apr 07, 2020 5:36 pm, edited 3 times in total.
parish
 
    Sat Apr 04, 2020 6:58 pm
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HUSK
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BASICS

NAME: Husk
BIRTHDATE early Winter 2765
AGE: 5 as of 2770


APPEARANCE
LENGTH: 14.5ft
HEIGHT: 5.2ft
COLOR: bronze
HEX CODE: #3F3A0E
FULL APPEARANCE:

Shiny! Husk makes up for his lack of size by being a rather striking specimen. Speckled with bright spots he has a decidedly metallic sheen. His satiny hide is a flashy near-green patina that patterns out to darker shades on his tail and wings. He has muscular, sinewy legs that make him both fast and strong without being bulky. The lightness of his handler means he doesn’t need to be big to get far. He is rather barrel chested and has a bad habit of chewing his back claws down to the wick.

PERSONALITY
PERSONALITY:

A self-styled hero Husk is a no nonsense sort of wher. He doesn’t like to be teased, and he doesn’t do any teasing in turn. He is not a joke! He is a hero! Or at least, he has the potential to be, when Hum lets him. They butt heads fairly often due to differences of opinion. Unlike his handler Husk is always willing to be reckless if it might mean glory. He would die to save someone else, and he would take Hum with him if it came to it. For obvious reasons his handler would prefer that never be the case.

Don’t mistake that for caring though. There is little compassion in Husk. Even less understanding. He gets cranky when people don’t meet his expectations. He doesn’t understand why they wouldn’t act in the way he believes they should. Not right or wrong, but instinctively. He’d risk his life to be remembered forever, while judging anyone else that would dare to be that daring.

He doesn’t have time to be distracted with socialization or making friends. What little time he doesn’t spend sleeping, eating, and plotting ways to become a legend, Husk spends chasing anything shiny. He is a bit of a kleptomaniac. Anything that sparks his interest or catches his eye will be picked up and carried off. Usually to Hum, who he harasses and bullies into keeping his stolen collections for him.
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