" You did good, child… You did good. ”
BASICS
RETIRE INFO: Retire
NAME: D’fid
GENDER: Male
PRONOUNS: He/Him/His
ORIENTATION: Aromantic heterosexual; celibate
BIRTHDATE: Early Fall 2720
AGE: 50 Turns as of Late Fall 2770
LOCATION: Fort Weyr
OCCUPATION: Rider, Candidatemaster
WING: Midnight
APPEARANCE
EYES: Brown
HAIR: Black, going grey
HEIGHT AND BUILD: 6’2”, bulky
PLAY-BY: Keith David
FULL APPEARANCE:
D’fid is not a small man. Standing over six feet tall, and rather muscular and heavyset, he has the ability to positively loom over anyone shorter than him, which is quite a lot of people. He has dark skin, and a broad face somewhat lined with wrinkles that make him look a bit older than he actually is. He clearly bears the signs of his Turns in war, both in his age and the paler scars on his left arm and leg. His hair was once all black, though portions of it are now turning to silver; sometimes he jokes that, like Anderoth, it will be steel soon. It’s extremely tightly curled, such that it can never really lie even remotely flat, and he keeps it cut rather short in order to manage it. He doesn’t smile much, and usually has a slightly-contemplative frown.
Though not exceptionally finicky about his appearance, D’fid takes care to make sure that he always wears his rank knots and Weyr patches. His clothing is otherwise usually simple and practical, much of it showing the signs of quite a few Turns of use.
PERSONALITY
PERSONALITY:
Though he clearly bears the evidence of his Turns, at no point did D’fid become a hardened man as a result of it. He isn’t especially cheerful, but he tries to be compassionate, and considers himself to be at least partially responsible for the failings of others around him. Despite having never been given the opportunity to do it before, D’fid is ambitious and wants to lead others, in an effort to make things at least a little better than they were before. Failing that, he wants to teach, to allow for hope for the future.
He has many regrets, the greatest of which is that he was never able to settle down and have a family. Any hope he ever had of that was destroyed when he Impressed to Anderoth; he still has a holder’s views on sex and marriage, and refuses to allow himself to be put in a situation where he might produce children if he isn’t going to be around to raise them. However, he still loves children, and enjoys teaching and guiding young people where he can.
Partly owing to his Hold upbringing, D’fid can sometimes be considered a little uptight. He hates flirting, since he’s quite convinced that it will never lead to anything productive, and isn’t particularly afraid to share his views. He’s assertive, especially when it comes to declaring Anderoth as good a dragon as any, no matter what his colors. Though he doesn’t always think before he speaks or acts, he tends to be somewhat hypercritical of himself, overanalyzing his decisions after the fact, wondering if he might have done things better.
HISTORY
FAMILY:
Mother, Indara, Weaver
Father, Ganfid, Tanner
SIGNIFICANT OTHER: Lexien of Brown Mikazuchith
BIRTHPLACE: Igen Hold
HISTORY:
The son of a weaver and tanner at Igen Hold, Darafid grew up quite secure in the knowledge that he, too, would be a crafter like his parents. He always assumed that he’d be a tanner, following in his mother’s footsteps; sometimes he even thought that maybe he’d find a weaver girl to marry, and together they’d have more crafter children. He was always dreaming of the future, and occasionally dwelling in the past of old stories, not often thinking of the present.
However, when he was sixteen, before he could even make journeyman, a bluerider from Igen came and Searched him. He went somewhat grudgingly, because becoming a rider wasn’t what people in his family did, but his parents assured him that there was nothing wrong with leaving for the Weyr. After all, riders had far more power to change the world than any tanner ever would.
So he went, and for a while he found it difficult to adjust. Weyr ways were not like the ones he had known at the Hold. People were so open about things, he found it downright bizarre, and almost repulsive. That wasn’t how he’d been raised! Three Hatchings passed with him being rejected by every dragon that hatched, and he began to think that he’d return home after all. Having seen what Weyr life was like, he was by then quite certain that he wanted to have a family someday, even if there were some at the Weyr who would have laughed at him for that.
A fourth Hatching came, and half of it passed when a blue hatched. A big blue to be sure, a dusty, faded sort of color with wings that looked like especially old leather that had been left crumpled in the sun for a while. He lay on the sands for a minute, his wings wrapped around himself like a cocoon, before finally standing up and shaking himself off, and then the Stands slowly went absolutely silent for a moment. The blue was not a blue at all, bearing obvious, pale gold patches on both shoulders. His? Its? For a time, nobody was actually sure what the dragon was, other than not-blue. Eventually, apparently oblivious to the disturbance he was causing, he made his slow, stately way over to the Candidates, making a beeline straight for Darafid.
You will belong to no other, D’fid. I am your Anderoth, no matter what anyone may say against us.
The steel dragon hadn’t been wrong about people saying things about himself and D’fid. The pair had to endure equal parts suspicion, hatred, and confusion from nearly everyone they encountered at Igen. Anderoth reacted by trying to prove himself above all of the commentary; D’fid simply told everyone who questioned him that his dragon was just as good as any other, even if his color was a little odd. Eventually they graduated to the wings, joining one of the low-level flights because, despite almost looking like a blue, Anderoth was more of a size with a brown or even bronze.
The next few Turns passed in something closer to monotony than anything. The initial surprise over their existence having faded, Anderoth and D’fid were more often ignored than anything. They were strange, and the only thing to do with strange things was pretend like they weren’t there. Then war came, and everything changed.
Though D’fid dreamed only of peace, Anderoth was determined to do the best he could to defend Igen, no matter what he had to give for it. Mostly thanks to the steel dragon’s determination and valor, the pair were eventually recognized for their dedication to their Weyr, and earned some grudging amount of respect, though the leadership made it quite clear to them that they would never be leaders. Toward the end of the war, a tangle with a greenrider from one of the other Weyrs left D’fid severely wounded, with deep cuts on his left arm and leg, and he failed to recover before the end of the war. He still regrets having gotten involved in that fight and missing the end of the war.
The intervening peace was short, for eventually Thread returned, and with it a return to fighting for D’fid and Anderoth. Life with Thread became a routine as much as anything else had, and eventually everything settled down. Igen stayed out of the conflict between High Reaches and Fort, and so D’fid largely ignored what was happening there, until rumors of a large number of mutation dragons flocking to Fort reached him. If Fort was more accepting, perhaps he and Anderoth had a better chance of making a difference there than they did at Igen, and so they decided to transfer.
UPDATES
- Transferred successfully to Fort
- Became good friends with Lexien, the Weyrlingmaster; sees her almost as a mentee of sorts (even if she'd probably kill him for saying as much)
- Became the Candidatemaster, and considers all of the Candidates his surrogate children
- Has been helping to look after Lexien ever since Quth was killed.
- Broke his right leg and foot slipping off of Anderoth, but that will heal
- Has slowly been forming a closer relationship with Lexien... but it's totally platonic, he swears (it isn't)
- Was scored on his right shoulder in Threadfall
