Kessa, Journeywoman and Jr. Weyrwoman
Quick Facts
Rank Journeyman
Specialty Hats:Design/Tailor/Dyes
Mentor N/A
Posting Fort Weyr


Plain does not necessarily apply to this girl; her emotive teal eyes lack the total deception the rest of her simple features imply. The flutter of thick black lashes help to cast the allure of her slender almond shaped eyes, set upon statuesque high cheekbones. The femininity set in her gaze fades the lower down on her features; for her nose is a tad sharper than what suites the softly pointed facial structure. Coral lips though they seem full and luscious, are unbalanced; the top lip is drawn much thinner than the bottom. The dainty angles of her face are most often outlined or hidden behind the subtle waves of black hair, cut just shy of her well-defined shoulders.

Normality does seem a vague description when speaking of her figure, though for her age it does seem just that. She boasts lean arms, a blooming chest, a refined and flat stomach, a wide curving hip, and firm legs. Beyond that, a creamy soft texture seems fixed into every pore of her body, accented by a wafting scent of coconut. As for clothing the teen favours light garments that can easily swish around her limbs, dresses being a favourite, most often topped with a uniquely decorated hat.

With friendly mannerisms and an outward energy, the girl is highly approachable. She is motivated by the desire to make her own life better and to succeed in doing something she loves. She embraces life, improving her own as well as others if the chance is given to her. She's down to earth yet prone to day dream. Her attitude is often always charming and she has a level reasonable outlook on life. Her fashion sense intact and unique despite coming from a sheltered hold. Kessa is also quite the determined spirit; a girl who faces her fears and conquers it with a smile and a laugh, often moving herself beyond the old threshold of her sheltered life.

She lives by one golden rule: Your life is your own to live as you choose.


Her long story starts here… taking her from naive hold girl, to a candidate, to an apprentice, and to so much more…

Part One
Part Two
Part Three
Part Four
Part Five
Part Six


Through triumphs and tragedy, Kessa has proven herself to be a persevering young woman. Born in a minor hold she wasn't immediately given the opportunities of other young people in highly populated areas. That said, as soon as the girl's eyes were opened to the wonders of the world, she began to blossom. Immediately her talents were put to use. Sophie, a local weaver in the area, caught onto the talents of the girl, encouraging her to decorate hats like she had back at her hold. Combined with her youthful and optimistic views, she set about her work with all the love her nimble fingers could endure. Soon enough, this earned attention of a few residents and riders at the Weyr; some of which commissioned these decorated hats from the girl - ensuring she would root herself down to the Weyr at least for the time being.

It was not a surprise then that she focused all her attention toward learning the entire process of Hat making. Thus, she designs, tailors, dyes, and decorates hats - making them from scratch often times enough.


Moyrel's Hat
Here, elegance is captured. Within the confines of a hat, tasteful beauty has been fashioned from unique waves of finely woven straw. Moulded with a gentle curving crown and a six and a half inch swooping brim, the hat reflects the simplistic femininity of a woman's spirit. The empowering color of Harper blue has been dyed into the straw with absolute perfection. A simple white ribbon compliments the color as it wraps around the bottom of the crown, tied in a modest bow at the back of the hat, where sails of ribbon roll off in precise excess - as if made to flutter easily in any breeze. Three preserved modest white tropical flowers with a yellow center are neatly on the left side of the hat, set in a triangle bundle with a bit of green foliage left on for further contrast and flare.
On the inside of the hat are the marks of the maker - a small 'K' with a ribbon curling around and through it.


Gather of Weavers


Fetch Me A Price Green Fedora
A fair lady green with sharp tiny eyes, scanning the area. She never seems to stay in one place. Agile and lean, the figure is almost serpent like as she scopes high and low. Her body turns and twists easily, made of only curves and wavy lines that fit into tiny cracks and pouches. Her coloring is of a dull green, mossy and old with almost a wise look behind it. Flickers of brighter shades of green and light bronzes dance about the back of the firelizard and burst more rapidly into her tiny wing sails. The rest of the color comes to rest on her nose in a copper tone, making this the most notable part of the firelizard. The odd color compared to the rest of her deep green body.

Grilled Balsamic Porterhouse Bronze Culter
Heavy muscles bulge across the thick and large form of this arrogant bronze firelizard. Large eyes whirl beneath prominent ridges on his large wedge shaped head. Thick jaws are licked by a silvery green tongue as he gauges the world about. A deep stain of balsamic vinegar tinted dark bronze colors his hide in uneven waves. Some of the overlapping drizzles stain to near black along the bottom of his thick short neck and wide belly. Across his sides and flank are odd darker streaks, like grill marks they sear darkly upon his tasty form. Wings are strong and sturdy, the large expanse of sails are kept meticulously clean. Despite this grooming, the inherent splatter of grizzle and seasoning spice up the darkened bronze sails.


If Only It Were -I- To Be Envied Gold Choth
Light never illuminated such a graceful creature as this, an ethereal form that, as a whisper in the wind, seems ghostly compared to others of her kind. Gold she is, but of a hue so pale and lustrous it appears more silver in tone, with the edges of her physique the only radiant points that glow in sunshine golden color. Like a metallic paintbrush wafted across her figure, swirls — like dusty fog curling around a source of movement — dance about her frame, accentuating round structure and delicate features, but thin into streaks, rather than swirls, along the functionally built appendages of legs and tail. The tip of her tail lights to pure white, edged in a striking hue that stands out amongst the almost lack-thereof; the hue, a pale but sensual metallic blue, coats the entirity of the thin membranes of her wings, whose spars hint a darker shade of such. The color touches only one other place; her face, between eyes but just before thin knobs, a dripping crown of glory is held… But not all glory is fame; for some, it only becomes a chain.

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