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Location: The Frigid North
Wed Jun 27, 2018 10:53 am




" On the tail of a hurricane, the trick of the trade
I stay angry at angels that stand in the way
Who wore a halo of smoke from a passing train
Now the seat at my table's been taken away "


NAME: Luetta
GENDER: Female
PRONOUNS: She/Her/Hers

BIRTHDATE: Early Summer 2737
AGE: 33 as of Late Fall 2770
LOCATION: Semaca Weyr

EYES: Brown
HAIR: Brown
HEIGHT AND BUILD: 5'9", average
PLAY-BY: Tonia Sotiropoulou
Luetta is slightly on the tall side, though of average build. She has a rectangular face, with a strong chin, full lips, and full eyebrows. Her eyes are dark brown, and her hair is of a similar color, thick and long and just past her waist. It can tend to lighten somewhat in the sun, but only a little. Her skin is olive-toned and tends to tan easily, though she isn't especially fond of the sun so she doesn't often have much of a tan.

She likes to dress well. Even in the kitchens, her dresses are a little too fancy for the occasion. She's never learned to give up the little luxuries she had growing up: a touch of gold embroidery at the collar, a silk bodice when others might have had linen—though she at least leaves the silk for times she's not working. She's rarely seen in pants, sticking to blouse and skirt or a dress. She favors dark, rich colors; she's not at all fond of pastels.

Luetta is pretty much made of sour grapes. She pretends at disdain toward riders, occasionally going on rants about how they don't provide Semaca with food and that the newly-founded Weyr doesn't actually need protection from Thread. This is all to hide her own bitterness. She longs to be a rider, and thinks that so long as she isn't one she's a failure. She wants her family back, but knows they will never accept her now—at least the ones who haven't been shunned, the ones who matter. She's not angry at them though, she's angry at herself for not being good enough. Politically, she still thinks Benden has the right of things. Riders should be on top, with metallic riders at the very top of those. She just wishes she were sufficient to be acknowledged there.

She's rather fond of extremely spicy food and cute things, even if she works hard to make sure as few people as possible are actually aware of the latter. It's a weakness, and if she learned anything during her life, it's to never show weakness. Never show fear, or doubt, or want, because it will eventually be used against you.

Intelligence is certainly one of Luetta's stronger points, but it's offset by a mediocre work ethic. She does what she has to for the sake of looking good, not out of any innate desire to get the job done. She isn't really one to apply herself to hobbies, or anything she isn't told she has to do.

Mother, Laretta of Gold Ravneth
Father, R'sil of Bronze Vatith
Older Brother, R'set of Bronze Kujumath
Older Sister, Risae of Green Savanth
Younger Sister, Sido of Gold Nuuth
Younger Sister, Aeris
Younger Brother, S'et of blue Nephthyth
Luetta, second daughter—and third child—of a bronzerider and a goldrider, was destined for greatness, right behind her older sister. This expectation was drilled into her from a young age. It was made clear that she wasn't to concern herself overmuch with the worries of those who were lesser, because she was something more. She would be more. She would be—had to be—perfect. Mistakes weren't just not tolerated; they weren't allowed.

And so Luetta grew up learning to hide her faults, to lie and twist the truth so that she was never wrong. Over time she learned to lie even to herself; she was above those lesser fools, why should she be worried what they thought so long as it was made abundantly clear that she was far, far above them? This led to friction with her older sister, even when she was still quite young. She never really took to the mantle of second daughter well. She wanted to be first, to be best.

Her mother died in childbirth when she was ten, her brother's fault, she was sure. She hated him for it. He'd taken away her greatest resource, her best teacher. Risae? Hardly worthy of asking for advice. How was she supposed to ask about how to be a proper goldrider when the one who had birthed her was dead? This sense of bitterness, that she had been wronged and that nobody was doing anything to right it, continued throughout her life.

Before she even had the chance to stand as a Candidate, Rilset managed to Impress bronze. How could he not? He was destined for the same sort of greatness that she was. Luetta was only glad that it wasn't Risae who had managed to get her dragon first, and became a Candidate herself shortly after. This was good. This meant that her sister couldn't seize glory before she could; she was certain no gold would choose Risae over her. Not when given a choice between the two.

Candidacy dragged on for Turns, an endless cycle of chores and boredom and waiting. Luetta refused to apprentice to any Craft; she'd Impress a gold eventually, what need had she of a Craft? She would study theories of leadership—those teaching the absolute power of metallic leadership, of course—and diplomacy instead. She had no reason to subject herself to any other form of education. The chores Candidates got assigned were more than enough busy work, thank you very much. Eventually, Sido joined them as a Candidate. Risae eventually aged out, then left, never to be heard from again. Luetta felt nothing but vicious glee at that fact. Her sister had never deserved a dragon, much less a gold. That meant she had no real competition left; Sido wasn't a threat, and Aeris wasn't old enough. The next gold egg would be hers. But still she waited. And waited.

Aeris entered Candidacy, followed by Setet, and still she didn't have her gold. And then it was stolen from her, by Sido. But her brother, her hated brother, Impressed on his first try at that same clutch. To a blue. A female blue. He was a failure, to be forgotten as quickly as Risae had been—not that her older sister had ever been forgotten, at least not by her. No, that specter of failure hovered, moving ever nearer, for Luetta herself and as rapidly approaching the same age, when she'd be too old to try any more. When she'd be shunned as well. Hated. Erased. Nobody talked about Risae any more; Luetta sometimes wondered if any of her other siblings ever even thought about her. She wouldn't fail the same way.

She did.

The day she turned twenty-six, Luetta may as well have ceased to exist. She was so "graciously" given a place in the Lower Caverns as a cook, the only sort of job she was suited for. She should be glad she wasn't made a drudge instead. Never more could she hope of ever being anything. She would be a footnote, a blip in genealogical records. Another daughter who could have been something, but was instead all but stricken from the record. Sido was the chosen one, pampered and doted on, and look how she'd Impressed and to so grand a dragon!

It took three months for Luetta to finagle a transfer to Telgar, anything to get away from the disdainful looks she saw on everyone's faces, from the sneers her siblings and father gave her. If she was going to be a failure and a disgrace, she'd at least be an anonymous one. Eventually, a new Weyr came about: Semaca. Never having made friends at Telgar, but having decided that cooks were at least useful failures, she transferred.
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