D E V R I A N...NAME...
Journeyman Smith / Candidate...AGE...
Twenty - One...PLAYED BY...
- Devlor - Master Smith (father, living)
- Saphirien (mother, deceased)
- Sev - Journeyman Smith (eldest brother, living)
- Daelor - Journeyman Smith (older brother, living)
- Sephora - Apprentice Harper (younger sister, living)
- Slow to Anger
- Overthinks things
- Physical Labor
- Working with his Hands
- Good Food
- Constant Talking
Quiet. Solitary. Unsociable and often too standoffish to be less than intimidating, Devrian isn't anyone's idea of a best friend. He doesn't meet people easily, doesn't trust right off the bat, and his sense of humor is often sardonic. He's the type of guy that can say just kidding
in such a way that you wonder if he's being serious or just saying it. He's often sarcastic, could easily be termed a smart ass, but thankfully he keeps most of those comments to himself. Instead of being loud and arrogant, Devrian is the picture of the strong, silent type... but that doesn't mean his thoughts are all noble. He's broody, prone to over thinking things, and he second guesses himself quite often. However, as far as appearances go, he's steady. Rock solid. Very little gets under his skin or gets to him visibly, and he's got the patience of a man three times his age, something he credits to being the only responsible one of four children.
He's not all bad, though. Like any, he has his good points. He's driven by a sense of responsibility to his family, a testament to his loyalty. Life with his father wasn't exactly militaristic, but he knew what was expected of him and what sort of quality his work had to be and as such he's very self-disciplined, very controlled. Also, though he may second guess himself after over thinking something, his confidence is there. He knows his own limitations and as such sticks within the bounds of his strengths, and because of this he's very self-assured, confident in his own abilities and what he can do.
Born the third child of four, Dev, as he is called by his friends and family, didn't exactly have a particularly exciting childhood. Not that it was boring, exactly, it was just normal. His mother stayed at home, raised her children, and helped their father around the shop... and his father? A master crafter at Ruatha Hold. Smith crafter, in fact. For as long as he could remember, Dev had always been around a forge, and had always been comfortable around the bellows and with the fire. Granted, it was not illustrious, not exactly extraordinary or superbly exciting, but it was his life. He knew nothing better, knew little of the adventures the dragon riders had save for the few murmured words when dragon wings cast shadows over the ground. See, while his parents appreciated what the dragons did, riding as a profession never really did fit their dreams for their children. It was good, to be sure, but it was not encouraged in their household, not romanticized to a point where each of their children dreamed of it. It was just another necessity, just like the different craft halls on Pern.
What they did encourage, however, was Smithing. The eldest boy, Sev, was the first to apprentice under his father, then two years later came the second eldest, Daelor. It was a given that when he turned twelve a year after Daelor, Devrian would apprentice under his father as well. After all, he already knew his way around the forge and had been helping his father since he could walk and carry things. Dev had known the path his life would follow, had a destiny laid out for him since the day he was born, and he was okay with that. What else would he have done, anyway? He was built for the line of work. Tall, brawny, and he had his own experience as well as his father's tips and tricks of the trade to give him an advantage over the other boys his age in the same profession. Wasn't long after his nineteenth birthday that he walked the tables and was promoted to journeyman, following both of his older brothers.
A few months after he was promoted to Journeyman, he got the news that his mother had died. Before the news, he'd been planning on moving to Fort Hold, but now? His mother was dead. His father was reeling. Some say the younger children aren't as responsible or as driven as the olders, but in Dev's case, he was the son that went home to help his father and his younger sister while his brothers stayed away, preferring to grieve on their own. It hurt, honestly. In some ways, it felt like they'd let him down, left him to handle this all on his own... but did he care? No. He could deal. Just months after moving out he moved back into his childhood home and slowly reestablished his father's business, something that had dropped off the face of the earth after his mother's death. He worked. He coaxed his father out of his bedroom. He looked after his sister, who was sixteen at the time. His life wasn't boring, but there were days where he felt like he wasn't doing what he was supposed to be doing.
He wasn't quite satisfied, wasn't quite... something. Didn't know exactly what he wanted or if he even wanted to be a Smith, but what else was there for him besides it? What other life had he known? Two more years passed and then he was twenty-one, working and establishing a name for himself in Ruatha Hold, when out of the blue one day, he was Searched. It was a shock, to say the least, when the blue dragon dropped out of the sky and the rider asked him if he'd be interested in coming back to the weyr to Stand for the hatching of the borrowed eggs. His father and his sister, though dragonriding was something they'd never imagined for their family, let him go with their blessing. They didn't need him to "take care" of them, it'd been two years.... and for him, what was the worst that could happen? He get left Standing? In that case, he'd just go back home to his forge with no regrets. Devrian had never had that sort of hero-worship admiration for the dragonriders that many children had grown up with, but he could still appreciate the work they did, and there was a part of him that thrilled at the idea of riding one of the gigantic beasts.
But he wouldn't get his hopes up. Out loud, at least. Until the hatching, he's just as steady as ever, doing the chores and staying out of everyone's way as much as he can, even filling in with his craft in his spare time to help out the weyr to keep his hands busy. You know what they say, though. It's always the quiet ones that you have to watch....COLOR PREFERENCE...
Bronze or Brown. He'd be fine with any, the preference is just mine. xD...HONORIFIC...