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Player Info

Your Name: Mitzi. Or you can call me Time, I'm not particular.

Contact Info:
Skype/Ao3: artlessmiscreant;
Tumblr: warhammerofzillywho;

Time Zone: GMT -6:00 Central time


Character Info

Name: Seivei (Seh-vae)

Dragon: Blue Vynth

Age: 19 Turns

Gender: Female

Birthplace: Riverbend Hold


Seivei is shy.

She's never been particularly outgoing or excitable. Levelheaded and observative, she'd prefer to be alone than among large groups of people. The only people she'll really open up to are her family, and although she has many acquaintances, her true friends are few and far between. Seivei's loyalty is something rather unshakable once given and she's quick to hold a grudge.

With the death of her mother, she became even more withdrawn and private, often spending several hours alone by the fields. Wasteful, and probably not a good idea, but struggling with a kind of depression within herself has taken several years to come to terms with. She's still tense and unapproachable about it, and while she'll tell her siblings about their mother, she tries to move on quickly. Despite her crippling fears of losing her siblings, she tries to let them grow up normally.

Seivei’s got a slow-burning but extremely hot fuse, and once angered it takes a lot to calm her. To be honest, it scares her, because she’s never lost control like that—the first time was right after her mother’s death; the second was when she realized that her family was breaking up, and that all of the functions of being the mother of the household fell on her. She does try her utmost to never lose her temper, and has never had another outburst like that since. And she is definitely glad for it.


Born in Riverbend Hold, the oldest daughter of two farmers, Seivei learned quickly how to manage and take care of children and the house as her parents were harvesting food. She's not particularly fond of housework, but understands the necessity. Her three brothers-- Aedon, 12, and Frelees, 16-- and her sisters, twins Mella and Iannis, both 8, are Even so, they all respect her greatly, as she had the bigger role in raising them. She's close to all of her siblings, even though Frelees had left to pursue training at the Crafthall as Weavers.

Her younger life was very bland, leaving her with a strong taste for some kind of wonderful adventure. Her mother's death while birthing the twins when Seivei was 11 caused her to withdraw within herself, quiet and apathetic. For a Turn or so after that, she was inconsolable. This didn't help matters, as all of the other children were relatively young and needed to be taken care of. Her relationship with her father, never very loving in the first place-- he wanted sons, not daughters, and the death of his wife by his youngest girls left a bitter hole in his heart. Doting on the boys and largely distributing housework to the girls, or otherwise ignoring them, he grudgingly continued to give them food and lodgings. As her father continued to winnow the fields, she grew up, finding herself suddenly years more mature mentally than she was physically.

She's had brief affairs with a few men and women in the Hold, but never anything substantial. She fancies finding somebody one day, but doesn't see it happening. The sudden shift of the role women have in the Weyrs keeps throwing her off balance-- she's used to expecting subservience and acquiesce, and the ability to truly speak her mind and do something great with her life is almost overwhelming. Perhaps she'll be more outgoing the more friends she makes in the Weyr, but for now she generally tries to keep to herself.

Attitude towards Search/Impression:

Seivei is mildly terrified. Even though the Weyrwoman is from Riverbend, she's unfamiliar with Weyr customs and activities and as a result tries to keep herself from the spotlight as much as possible. The ride to Dorado was her first ride on dragonback, and instead of being immobilized in fear, she found herself exhilarated. The experience of dragonriding has kept her around, eager to repeat the short incoming flight. The complete removal of everything familiar from her life is like a splash of cold water to the face; instead of finding friends she'd once again withdrew within herself. She doesn't dislike the dragonriders, not any weyrbrats, but does envy them. They all seem to be so comfortable where she isn't, and so easygoing where she seizes up in confusion.

With the prospect of Candidacy comes the frightening realization for her that she's not going back home. At the same time, she's exhilarated, because from the things she has heard, the unshakable bond that forms between rider and dragon is a beautiful thing. She's fully prepared to stand on the Hatching Grounds, but if she doesn't Impress, she's aware that she might wind up in the Lower Caverns to help raise children and run the Weyr's backlogs. She's not ecstatic about that possibility, but does understand that people behind the show are the hardest workers.

Seivei frets about her younger siblings, and without a viable means to keep in touch with them isn't quite sure how they're doing. (Between on a dragon would be helpful, but she doesn't have the nerve to ask a senior dragonrider to fly her home for a visit, and anyway she's not sure if it's allowed.)


"What are you thinking about, Seivei?"

The query came from her younger sister, Mella, helping her scrub out the dirty clothes the family had gone through. Seivei blinked slowly, turning toward the small girl.

"The Weyr is on Search again," Seivei told her quietly, as she twisted the dirty garments of their water. "I was thinking about Thread."

That sobered both girls momentarily as they considered the ramifications of uninhibited Threadfall. If there were no dragonriders around to burn the alien substance from the sky... Seivei shuddered delicately and turned, once more, to her sister. "Let's see how you're getting on with the washing. You're nearly full grown, dear, you should be capable of clotheswashing by now." While she was chiding the girl, who had truthfully not done a single ounce of work, another child ventured into the scene.


Straightening, the older girl watched her brother scramble over the pile of clothing toward her. His dark eyes, a stark remnant of their mother, were wide and excited under his ginger bangs. She didn’t have the heart to chide him for re-dirtying the carefully separated clothes. "I heard there were dragonriders around!"

Seivei huffed a laugh. It never ended-- after the death of their mother, she'd taken over care of the rest of her younger siblings; her father, ill-suited to parenthood and never really that fond of them in the first place, had disappeared most of the day in the fields. Riverbend Hold was gathering up an appropriate amount of grain and herdbeasts to tithe to Dorado Weyr, and work was ample. Seivei, who would be working had she not had the rearing of children, was plenty busy herself.

"What if you get Searched?" Aedon asked her hesitantly, coming closer to hang onto her arm. "I'll miss you."

"I'd miss you too, little boy," Seivei said, smoothing his hair down gently. "But I would always come back to see you. Who knows, I might even be able to let you ride a dragon!" She edged around the question, even though she didn't expect any dragonrider to come snooping around. She was busy, and she wasn't Impression material anyway. Watching his eyes light up was worth it, in any case.

There was a niggling thought in the back of her mind: What if you do get searched? What will happen to your family? You can’t take care of them from the Weyr.

Seivei ignored that train of thought, rubbing her forehead tiredly. Everyone, from Hold to Craft, had once entertained the thought of bonding with Pern’s greatest beasts, with unconditional love and loyalty aimed at them, and only them. It was a shame that something like that wasn’t within her grasp.
So when the bluerider had come around and his great beast had fixed his whirling gemstone eyes on her, she’d almost fainted. And here she was, a week gone by as fast as wherries fleeing a tree, astride the same dragon that had declared her fit for Candidacy.

A-dragonback! All of her worries abandoned her as she peered over the great Centh’s back, looking at the ground that seemed so vast and yet so tiny from here. How could dragonriders bear to go to ground at all? She wondered, half afraid this was some sort of strange fever-dream.

The dragonrider she was clinging to chuckled, and she twisted to look at him. D’lon, his name was? She couldn’t remember. In any event, he eyed her, sizing up her reaction to leaving the ground. “The first time in the air is always the most memorable, I think.”

Seivei just nodded. Memorable, huh? She’d remember this flight, short though it was, for years.

And then they’d winked into between, and Seivei gasped—or tried to, if it hadn’t been swallowed by that ultimate, heart-stopping cold. Just as suddenly as they had entered it, they jumped out, and Seivei’s jaw dropped.

Dragons! Dragons everywhere. Southern Weyr was different from its Northern brothers, she knew, but she’d never seen such an astounding assortment of creatures together, sunning themselves, winking in and out of between, or sleeping. Centh’s lazy circles drew closer to the ground, and as he touched down, the rider gently helped her drop to the ground, still in abject shock and awe. Her mane of ginger hair was all the more tangled for its’ ride to the Weyr, but she hardly cared for appearances right now, not when there was so much to see. Suddenly aware of how out of her element she was, she drew closer to D'lon.

She would do this, and prove something to herself; what she was proving, she didn't exactly know, but this felt like a test, a challenge: make something of yourself. Seivei was ready. Or... at least, as ready as she'd ever be.


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February 2014

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