X'hil
X-hil_Suit.jpg
Quick Facts
Rank Apprentice
Specialty Tailor
Mentor N/A
Posting Ista Weyr

Character

X'hil is tall, easily over six feet, and has a wiry build. There's muscle there, but it's subtle, cloaked largely by the length of his limbs. He has light brown hair, which has been cropped short, and blue eyes. He has a light complexion with some freckles, though not many, and a mild tan.

X'hil wears pretty basic clothes, though they look fairly new at least. His pants are long, and of a sturdy brown fabric, while his white shirt is light-weight and somewhat loose. He also carries a beat up old leather jacket and gloves, though he doesn't often seem to wear them.

X'hil's most recent turnday was his [age-th], and he wears the knot of a bronzerider and Xanadu Weyr's Weyrsecond.

History

Xahil had a very Weyr-based upbringing, his mother a busy greenrider, and his father … well, Xylaihl never said much. Either she didn't know, as she claimed, or she didn't think it particularly relevant. Either way, Xahil never much minded, he grew up happily enough, raised mostly by nannies and fosterers like his siblings before, and after. He got up to the usual harmless mischief of childhood, though he was branded quite early on as a tattle-tale by his peers.

Xahil seemed to have inherited all of his mother's kind-heartedness and honesty, not to mention naivety. He knew enough to know right from wrong, and, as he grew - becoming tall very quickly - he began to get into arguments and minor fights here and there for what he believed. Most often it was defending his mother, and greenriders in general, from the claim, and insult, of being 'just' a greenrider.

As his twelfth turn approached, the nannies began to hint at various crafts and careers, though his only reaction to such gentle nudges and prods was a silent thoughtfulness. His pondering on the matter was interrupted one day by a rider, whose dragon was apparently concerned about Xahil's staring at him - the boy had been staring off into space again - and, somehow, Xahil walked away with a white knot.

It was fine timing indeed, Xahil had barely been twelve - or a candidate for that matter - for an entire day when the eggs hatched, and he very nearly didn't impress at all. He'd been in another argument about greenriders not being 'just' anything with a fellow candidate on the sands, and was paying more attention to that than the hatchlings. Eventually, a large bronze hatchling caught Xahil's attention, which actually managed to shut the boy up for once. Not a difficult task normally, in fact often quite easy, but near impossible when he's passionate about something.

Xahil found his name shortened remarkably easily to X'hil, in fact, it barely sounded changed at all. Kinseth assured his rider that it was different, /he/ was different, and food would be nice, all in the space of a few moments. The lad led his lifemate off in a daze, grinning like a fool. He even managed to put out of his mind the realisation that he'd just impressed bronze in the same Weyr that his mother rode green, for the time being.

Turns passed, X'hil and Kinseth found a place in the Galaxy wing, search and rescue, and it was fulfilling work. But there was that niggling little detail, he still rode bronze in a Weyr where his mother rode green, and these constant paranoid trips away were getting to be a bit of a bother. One time Xvetaoth rose while he was bathing, once while with a woman, and /that/ was awkward. "Oh, I have to go, my mother's green is rising."

Finally, X'hil shook his head, said "No more." and stopped leaving the Weyr during Xvetaoth's flights. If she'd been a normal green, with a glow before she flew, then he'd at least have had some warning, but no, Xvetaoth /always/ glowed, there was never much warning at all. For the most part, Kinseth and Xvetaoth led separate lives. Xvetaoth's favourite place to be was the ocean, bathing, and Kinseth's was on dry land, soaking up the sun. A Weyr is a big place, after all, it's possible to avoid someone for quite some time.

Several flights came and went, X'hil gained a new brother, Xvetaoth rose again, still without Kinseth in tow, and X'hil began to relax. He laughed at his foolishness, he knew that just because a dragon caught didn't mean the riders had to be together. If only he'd applied such logic turns ago!

Next flight, Kinseth chased. He didn't /win/, and X'hil never left his weyr, but it was enough. X'hil thanked the woman he'd been with during the flight, packed up his things, then left for Ierne. Later he sent word back to Xanadu, let his mother know what was going on, and formalised the transfer. It wasn't quite that easy though, he'd just moved away from Xanadu, from all he'd known for the first twenty turns of his life, and he didn't exactly have anything else to fall back on…

The weaver hall seemed to be going through a bit of a rough patch then, as X'hil heard from a friend of a friend who'd once dated a weaver's sister. There was apparently a shortage of materials first, then a plague of lice elsewhere, which required the burning of 'infected' items. The latter led to a sharp rise in demand, though fewer apprentices were signing up, and the Hall was suffering through a number of other little - and not so little - disasters. X'hil more or less kept to himself, he wasn't affected, being neither a weaver nor in an infected area, and he'd gotten in trouble for sticking his nose where it didn't belong far too often.

X'hil's idea of a non-interference policy quickly changed however, when he went to purchase a new outfit and found himself forking over more marks than he felt comfortable parting with, having recently quit his old job and all. He went to the Hall, resolving to get to the bottom of things, and emerged with an apprentice's knot. Not quite the paying job he'd been hoping for, but he'd make enough money on commissions, right? (He /could/ always ask his mother for money, she seemed to do quite well there, but he was trying to make it on his own… And not quite ready to face her, yet.) And besides, Ierne had nice beaches. He found a firelizard clutch one day, attracting a young brown entirely by accident.

Things got interesting when, delivering weaver goods to Ista Weyr, Kinseth took it in his head to chase, and chase he did. The bronze caught Lisle's gold Umniyath, committing his rider to future visits to Ista until the eggs were laid, and then the pair stayed on for a while. X'hil's craft had taken a sudden back seat, though he did try to keep up. Time passed, the eggs hatched, and X'hil departed once more for Ierne, though on much better terms than his departure from Xanadu.

X'hil has recently attempted to patch things up with his mother, after nearly three turns of complete and utter radio silence. So far, he's not trying too hard. He did write her a note, but, instead of giving it to her, he left it in Xanadu's caverns, and returned home with a young blue firelizard. Two months later, Xylaihl still hadn't responded, and he had to wonder if she had even gotten his note. It was around this time that X'hil found himself back at Ista, having been doing occasional transport jobs to scrape together a few marks - apprentices don't exactly get paid, after all. He ran into a few riders who had impressed in the clutch that Kinseth had sired, finally opening up - though not intentionally - about his reasons for leaving Xanadu. And somehow returning home with yet another firelizard.

Time passed, and his craft lessons continued. One such lesson, learning about dyes, ended with the man tasked with delivering a farmer, Cenlia, back to Xanadu. The pair made an exciting detour to acquire some tuber ale, Kinseth keeping lookout over the orchard and providing the most excellent of distractions. When the pair arrived at Xanadu, X'hil suddenly realised where he was, and it didn't take much coaxing to get him to indulge in the ale, to forget his troubles. Weyrwoman Niva joined them soon afterwards, complaining about absentee Weyrseconds and weyrwomen. X'hil drunkenly mentioned he could do better. The rest of the night was kind of a blur, though X'hil woke in the caverns the next morning with a Weyrsecond's knot on his shoulder…

Speciality

X'hil is learning the ropes right now, but he is working towards the goal of being a tailor, so that he can sew his own clothes. And make money by sewing clothes for others. Entirely selfish reasons perhaps, but they've been enough to drive him onwards, so far. Ultimately X'hil can only be selfish for so long, before his true nature rears its head. If he weren't a rider, for instance, he would probably soon request some posting in some backwater cothold, making little to no actual profit for himself.

His recent efforts to patch things up with his mother, however half-hearted they might have been, seem to be signalling an end to his self-obsessed period, leaving only pig-headed stubbornness to tether himself to the craft, and tether him it will!

Commissions

X'hil hasn't had the time nor the skills required to do any commissions as yet, though things look to be opening up shortly.

Logs

Sewing Lesson, May 17th, 2008
Dyeing Lesson, Feb 6th, 2009

Firelizards

Brown Meredith
A lively fellow this brown looks to be a patchwork of, well, of a bit of everything. He isn't so much brown as having a brown base in there somewhere. Perhaps is it bromide, or maybe just simple earth (though that is not really so simple), within which have become planted bits and smidgeon's of other elements give him life, to give him a flashy flair. He is of average build but boundless energy, some part of him always in motion whether it's the swish of a tail or the craning of a neck to see what it is that is going on next door. Talons are elemental carbon but as sharp as diamonds, a weapon for hunting and defending and he looks well able to handle himself in a scrap if need be. Not that his jovial fellow is likely to be picking fights, and as sail stretch again for the umpteenth time the yellow swirls of sulfur catch the light most playfully through the translucent membrane.

Blue Wraith
Though small in height, this little cobalt blue most definitely makes up for it in length. He appears stretched, all his features tugged and pulled out of shape. Bands of indigo wrap haphazardly around him, bunching together under his belly before drifting off randomly around his over-long tail like unravelling bandages. His legs seem thin, almost too thin to support his body, and even his feet have not managed to escape the odd stretching of his form - his near black toes and ivory talons combined are almost triple the length of normal firelizard feet. His wings hang ragged, poorly formed in the shell, though when fully opened reveal patches of white mixed in amongst the darkness - little stars waiting to break free.

Green Elizabeth
Packing more bark than bite, it is difficult to be intimidated by such a small little green as much as she tries to show it with her snappy attitude and fearsome glaring. Her body is mostly compacted, though lean, from her short little muzzle, large forehead and buggy whirling eyes to the thin delicate legs attached to her small frame and the short yet thin tail that appears to constantly be in motion. Her wings are short and stubby, nearly always open out to add some much needed size to her body — sails are a forest green that attracts the attention to her more glossy jade body, as if she were nearly always polished to perfection.

Dragon

Bronze Kinseth
Golden flashes of lightning breeze across a hide of molten bronze. The spectacular sight of this large bronze dragon is almost magical. He holds himself with a pride bolder than the toughest warrior. Shimmering, shining in the light the streaks of lightning seem to come to life with every muscular movement this fellow makes. No clumsy awkwardness for this one, on land or off, as he carries himself with an aire of royalty. He's bronze, a king, maybe even a god, and he knows darn well where he came from.

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