Persona Profile: V'maran

Writer: Iluva

Name: V'maran
Age: 51
Birthday: m13 d15
Rank: Wingleader, Cherry Wing
Location: Barrier Lake Weyr

Awards
Crayon Awards: Favorite New Male Persona (August 2025)

Physical Description of Persona:
As a young man V’maran would have been considered rather handsome. He certainly still is now, still cuts a fine and strongly masculine figure, but sitting on the cusp of middle age has seen much of his attractiveness shift toward the rugged, the distinctly weathered. Standing at a solid 6’2”, the majority of his height comes from those long, lean legs, though his lengthy stride has shortened some with the early onset of arthritis in his right hip. On good days, the limp barely seems to register, and it takes a trained eye to catch the minute differences in his step. On not so good days, the pain can become so overwhelming that he technically could use the help of a cane, but it’s rare that he will concede to its use and it will _never_ follow him to drills.

A very angular man in every sense of the word, it wasn’t quite so obvious in his younger Turns when he sported a good deal more bulk and the effect was softened some. He’s never possessed a brawny or brute strength, and even now carries little excess. But there is well-honed strength beneath the tight coils of muscles; thirty Turns a rider has left little part of him that isn’t capable of almost any physical task. V’maran’s frame is all angles and hard lines, with broad shoulders and a slim waist, and given the negligible amount of excess weight he’s truthfully a bit on the bony side. He’s a man made of iron, though, forged strong, even if he’s starting to rust a bit as he 'settles' into middle age.

V’maran’s thin heart shaped face is similarly angular, with high cheekbones, a heavy brow, and sharply pointed nose. Time has not been exceptionally kind to him, and at fifty he’s starting to look and feel his age (maybe even a few Turns more, truthfully). That naturally thin face has only gotten thinner and more lined though he still smiles easily enough. He doesn’t always recognize the lines that have carved into his cheeks, around his mouth, doesn’t remember when he started getting crow’s feet around his eyes (a steely blue that still shine with a boyish impudence) or when his short, blonde-brown hair started to fleck with gray. His face carries a square jaw complete with square chin, the point of which is dimpled and often covered in some sort of scruff. V’maran has a perpetually windswept look about him, a bit more wayward than even most dragonriders, and while he tends toward looking rather rough and scruffy considering he’s likely seen more outside than inside, he does clean up nicely.

His clothing is simple yet practical and it’s highly unusual to catch him in anything other than earth tones. He doesn’t care much for fancy attire, prefers everyday items that will actually get some use and he basically wears them until they wear through. Because otherwise that’s wasteful.

Emotional Description of Persona:
While he’d insist he’s a simple, uncomplicated man, in actuality V’maran is a lot of things and it’s not always the most pleasant of combinations. And for the most part he’s perfectly fine with that. Little of what V’maran does is done to impress or cater to others, and while that does have a tendency to hurt some feelings and rub others the wrong way, he’s merely an unapologetically straightforward man, serious and contemplative but largely uninhibited by uncertainty or self-doubt. It’s not quite arrogance, but rather a quiet self-confidence and self-possession born out of comfort with himself. Faranth knows it’s taken him enough time to get that far. It ‘helps’ that he’s also a talented rider, capable and confident in his role and where he fits in the grand scheme of the Weyr. He leads a hard life, but it’s an honest life all the same and even on the days where it takes more out of him than he can give, one does not simply _retire_. That’s what old men with no purpose anymore do.

He has an unshakeable work ethic, throwing himself into his duties (like everything) head first, into every task without complaint. He’s a hard worker (maybe too hard, if asked of those who know him), and brings no pretence. Apart from his duties, V’maran doesn’t see his life beyond being a rider as much more than a job. Well, a man who’s almost married to his job, that is. He values the very nature of being a rider, respects solid work ethics and doesn’t see the point in doing anything if it’s going to be half-assed. It may just be a job, he’s quite fine working as a cog in the Weyr machine, content to live his life within those confines, but it’s one he is tirelessly devoted to. Hopes and dreams are restricted to working as long as physically possible (if it bloody kills him this Pass then so be it) and enjoying his free time doing the things it’s taken him this long to appreciate. It’s lucky, really, that he Impressed a blue, because V’maran would be a hardass of a Weyrleader with little ear for apology or excuse.

In a word: stubborn. Not in an overly forceful or indomitable way, but very like a bull: he’ll dig his heels in and snort his defiance, shout and storm off if pushed, though after a bit of encouragement or time (or both) he always comes around. But it’ll be on his own terms and only when he’s good and ready. He’s not a fan of compromise, never was and never will be, and he does have the frustrating tendency of being right about a lot of things and _knows_ it. V’maran can be entirely bull-headed in many respects, and while he’s smart enough to analyze and evaluate a situation, he’s entirely fearless, stubbornly willful. Maybe even slightly argumentative and spiteful if his buttons get pushed hard enough, and you can be sure he’ll push them right back if they do.

If one can look past the fact that he’s a bit rough around the edges and hardly the most mannerly or mindful of men, V’maran is a good guy. The earthy, humble sort who can find humour in almost everything if he looks hard enough, who doesn’t vie for attention or have any particular opinion about himself other than what he knows to be truth or fact. He doesn’t adjust his approach for many people, but is consistently direct, reliable and trustworthy in the Wings as he is in his friendships. Deep down, V’maran is incredibly soft hearted. He’s sentimental and generous and gentle in a way that few people ever see or would understand if they did. He’s just never quite figured out how to show that side of himself easily, has never thought that it had a purpose in the grand scheme of his life and oftentimes doesn’t know how to utilize that side of himself effectively. But he tries, damnit, when he really cares about something, because he wants to be those things even if he doesn’t always know how, and is as well-intentioned as a person can be to those who have secured a special place in his heart. There are few who have, but of them he treasures them dearly, would do anything for them without reservation.

Aside from the issues with his mobility and the onset of wrinkles and graying hair, little of V’maran has changed over the Turns.

He’s still a bit mouthy when pushed, a bit rough and unsympathetic and prone to fits of childish sulking when he’s in one of his ‘moods’. As a person slow to warm to change he can be rather intractable, skeptical to the merits of something unless tried and true. But he’s still like a young boy, in a lot of ways. He doesn’t always remember he’s not supposed to bellow at the top of his lungs at the Gathers anymore (or get pissdrunk at them, either, but that’s another issue entirely), doesn’t like to be told to be quiet, doesn’t know when getting out of bed became a chore, certainly doesn’t like to be told ‘no’ and feels little embarrassment if he just so happens to be ‘making a scene’. And no, he’s not sorry about it.

It is disheartening that he can’t do what he wants anymore. Aside from the aches in the morning and the near crippling pain most nights, he’s still the same man who would climb a mountain if someone dared him, still pushes himself to do all the things he wants to do even if it _hurts_. He abhors the lack of control that is slowly creeping into his life as his body ages, given he used to feel like he could do _anything_ when he first Impressed Kastegarth, but now some days can barely harness him up on his own. He might not have ever done one thing or another, but it’s the principle; it’s that uncontained feeling of being _alive_ that V’maran enjoys, that possibility to do as he pleases that was always at his fingertips but is slowly slipping between them as time drags on. Grief is something he’s struggling coming to terms with, even if he insists he feels fine, honestly, just drop it. It’s made him even more prickly than he used to be, quick to snap or lose patience, but overall he’s determined not to let it impact his life (though it really, really does).

History of Persona:
Valmaran is likely one of the best people to have been born in a Trader caravan simply because he never once questioned his place in it. It was the sort of thing that he just fit in from the moment he was born. Even when he was old enough to form them he had no high hopes, no dreams of grandeur, no delusions about his lot in life. For the first sixteen Turns of his life he worked hard (though happily) in the caravan, weathering the territory that would become a source of longing when faced with the near claustrophobic restrictions of Weyrlinghood later on.

For a boy such as himself, a loud and perhaps far too bold lad with a work ethic that somehow forgave him of those first two annoyances, he might’ve fit the bill for a child who would do well with a bit of stability and straightening out. But impermanence was a way of life, was _his_ way of life, and Valmaran thrived in a childhood ruled by navigation yet adventure, routine yet unexpected hurdles.

He was so very content living a life that tied him to no particular place. It meant all of Pern was his, all its people his people, and there was honour, his father said, in being the ones who braved a rootless lifestyle few would willingly choose for themselves. In truth, that renegade sense of freedom likely reinforced his daredevil tendencies to an unhealthy degree, instilled a long-lasting wanderlust that made him crave the wilds and weathers of Pern whenever they had settled in one place for too long. Despite this mobile and arguably difficult lifestyle, it was an unremarkable childhood, and while he is hardly the type of person to reminisce about his time before Kastegarth, when he does it is with a sort of sad fondness and bitter nostalgia that hints it was likely far harder and less enjoyed than he likes to remember.

It was on a tithing trip to River Bluff Weyr that saw that decidedly comfortable path in Valmaran’s life interrupted. Without any intention or hope of doing so, he’d attracted the attention of a Search dragon. And immediately rejected the offer, despite how very persistent the blue was, which he found to be rather annoying rather than awe-inspiring. No one he knew had ever been Searched by a dragon, but the boy was hardly impressed or interested in what it wanted from him.

It was his mother that convinced him to consider it. His father had flat out refused; their perspectives and attitudes were always so similar that it was only natural, he argued, for the boy to continue his birthright in the Caravan. Varina argued differently, thought something of this calibre at least warranted some serious thought considering it wasn’t everyday one got singled out by dragons. Dalimar was furious, Varina put her foot down, but ultimately they left the choice up to him.

It took him two days to make up his mind on the matter. Another two days for him to regret the decision whole heartedly. By then the caravan had left, and Valmaran was left with no other choice than the one he made: to stay, to see if he could be good at this, too. To try his luck at this dragon thing. At least until the caravan came back again.

He didn’t have to wait long; the clutch he’d been Searched for hatched a mere two sevendays later and his world, which had by now been turned upside down and inside out (where the flame had he agreed to live?), was rocked by the appearance of Kastegarth. Even with the crash course he received from the Weyrlingmasters in the days leading up to the Hatching, the newly dubbed V’maran had very little idea about what, exactly he had gotten himself into, and very little time to get himself together.

Thankfully, it didn’t take him long to grow accustomed to having that big, booming voice in his head, that sense of security he hadn’t known he needed until their minds merged, and whatever life he thought he’d lead up until that Search suddenly no longer mattered. They devoted themselves entirely to Weyrlinghood and for a boy who barely gave the option a second thought attached to a dragon who rarely did the same, they emerged in one piece as a well-honed fighting machine.

Once the pair had graduated, V’maran devoted himself completely to his new life. So much so that he was convinced he’d never settle down, certainly never meet a girl, definitely never have kids. He hadn't led a traditional life before (though being of the trader minority it could be argued he never truly led a 'traditional' life), and he wasn’t planning on doing it now. Even back then, when V’maran thought he was right about something he usually was: two of those things never did come true, not because there weren’t enough girls or time to make children in the Weyr, but because another one came true instead.

Because he met S’bellan.

Weyrborn S’bellan, who was far more comfortable with himself than 18 Turn old V’maran knew was possible, had a bright spark of confidence and charming demeanor that made the young bluerider fall hard and fall fast. It all happened in a real whirlwind of change, in a time where V’maran was still struggling to adapt to Weyrlife, still struggling with who he was and still struggling with the fact that women were hardly the gender on his mind (and never really were). The fact that he found S’bellan was one of the few great things that happened in that period of his life and he’s grateful to have had him by his side for as long as he did.

All the struggles and problems over the Turns never seemed as big or as daunting with S’bellan by his side, and after spending as much time together as they did, there came a point where little things didn’t merit bickering, huge fights became a rarity, and there was a welcomed security to just _knowing_ they can handle anything. Even though they grew older, got comfortable and got wrinkles (though V’maran argued he got S’bellan’s share of those as well as his own), that spark of young love was still there, still burning bright and strong. He still found himself grinning like a fool whenever they saw each other at the end of the day, content in the simplicity of each other’s company. It was domestic, it was calm, but it was nice.

Time, it seemed, had been kind to him. V’maran’s never been much for dwelling on the past, but he grew thankful for some things. He had a love that has lasted for thirty precious Turns, and he flourished with a mate and his dragon by his side, found his place in River Bluff’s fighting wings as a talented Wingthird and grew to be a formidable fighting pair, capable of anything and everything by the time that distant menace of Thread prepared to fall again.

But time was unkind to him in other ways. He doesn’t remember when he got older, when his reflection started to change almost by the day. His love of excitement and adrenaline were some things that have never waned - he broke bones, fractured even more, dislocated shoulders and ankles and all manner of joints, and nearly giving the healers and S’bellan a heart attack on more than one occasion when he landed himself in the infirmary.

After the destruction of River Bluff and the establishment of Barrier Lake Weyrhold, they found their lives completely upended. Time and nature were determined to not only rob him of his home, but far faster than either of them saw coming, also his mate. Dear S’bellan, for all his youthful charm and unbothered optimism toward life, began forgetting things, forgetting people, places. Forgetting him. As fast as the tsunami rolled in, as violently as the earth shook around them, S’bellan’s mind seemed to be floating out beyond them, and it rocked V’maran’s entire world when, not wanting to accept the truth, his mate was diagnosed with aggressive form of dementia. Their love was strong, but the disease was stronger. They tried to make it work, tried to care for each other as they always did, but after a difficult Turn of steady progression, S’bellan and his dragon went /between/ forever --needing to, before it reached the point where they no longer could.

V’maran lost all constants within himself after that. He grew angrier, harder, sinking into a dark place that few would dare try to pull him out of. His workaholic tendencies and Kastegarth’s love eventually catapulted him back into duty with a vicious fury and a serious bone to pick, and he suddenly became the Wingthird the new riders learned to stay clear of.

And while he led a hard and fast life in his youth, he's paying for it now.

Aging never meant much to V’maran - until he could no longer do whatever he wanted. Sometimes he looks back and can’t believe he’s spent more than thirty Turns a rider, can’t believe his body has actually started to betray him like this. What started a few short turns ago as stiffness in the morning and gradually worsening aches at night has progressed to full-fledged arthritis that even the healers don’t quite realize the full extent of and that V’maran’s too sharding stubborn to admit. That there might be limitations on what he can do as he ages does not sit well with him. He’s been hard on his body, but there’s always been that strength to make up for it, the rigors of youth to help bounce back. This new pain combined with old heartbreak has taken some of the fun out of his life, some of the joy, and made some of his tendencies to indulge and take risks even worse in an effort to compensate. He’s annoyed with himself; annoyed that he can’t will his body to do what it used to. He still has so much to offer to the Weyr and he’ll be damned if he’s just going to sit back and relax. Ever (or Faranth forbid, _retire_).

He knows this life is breaking him, and he’s _built_ for this. Most people are not, that’s just the way things are. It took quite a lot of convincing for him to step down, even temporarily, and enter the Queen's Wing - it's something he fought the whole way, and he's determined to ensure it is only a temporary accomodation while he tries to sort out his hip. After all, who will be left when every able bodied man takes to the skies to fight Thread only to return (if at all) bloodied and broken?

Now quietly terrorizing-- erm, helping a new wing these past few months, anyone with a different opinion who doesn't personally know V’maran quickly realises they don’t want to. Which is fine, because he doesn’t want to know them either.

Family and Friends
Dalimar, 76, Trader (father)
Varina, 73, Trader (mother)
S'bellan, 52, Wingrider (weyrmate, deceased)

Dragon's Name: Kastegarth
Dragon's Age: 35
Dragon's Hatching Date: m9 d23
Dragon's Colour: Blue
Description of Dragon:
Being a big dragon has its perks; it means that amongst the sea of blues in the Weyr there’s more of Kastegarth to admire, more visual interest to draw and hold the eye, more chances for that coveted second or third look. The fact that he not only welcomes that attention but craves it means he tends to pose, or strut, or make a show of just about anything. Every position and stance is just so, executed with such care and natural confidence that you’d swear he’s caught (or, as V’maran tends to grump, was actually shelled) a Queen.

While his rider has started to feel and show his age, Kastegarth certainly hasn’t. He’s still as limber and loose as a Weyrling with enough pep in his step to spare, though he does sport a few scars here and there that he wears with pride. His hide is a luxurious cobalt blue (which is, of course, the most masculine and vibrant of the blues). It has a deep, lustrous quality that darkens at the extremities and lightens considerably along his impressive wingspan. His abilities in the air have made him a fierce flyer, his naturally lithe and sinuous frame lending him the agility that blues are near famous for and that have made him and his rider such a strong pair. While indeed a big guy, he is a bit on the lanky side; a rather large framed dragon but with less bulk than he could actually support with ease. Given that he’s all sharp angles and long-limbs, the resemblance between him and V’maran has only gotten stronger over the Turns.

Ugh. So boisterous. It takes a lot of self-assurance to be as loud, as booming, as annoyingly energetic as Kastegarth is. There is very little that will encourage him to look in on himself, to doubt himself, and he possesses an unmistakable confidence (that can border on cockiness if he can get away with it) to the way he views himself and his abilities. The fact that he tends to be quite talented and skilled in as many ways as he is confident does help his case, but not his ego. Make no mistake, Kastegarth is without a doubt a kind-natured soul at heart, full of praise and encouragement when it is someone’s (hard-)earned due, so capable of being entirely warm and welcoming and vivacious. There is not a shy bone in his big angular body and is as quick to make friends as he is to defend them should the mood strike. Criticism is something he can certainly give, and in most cases certainly take as well, but that doesn’t mean he likes it. Doesn’t mean he will keep how downright insulted he is from his rider and maybe the scattered wingmate for the slightest indiscretion, doesn’t mean he forgives or forgets all that easily (albeit he does). Doesn’t mean that he will be in the mood to help anyone while he sulks and pouts on his ledge for the next day and a half.

The fact that Kastegarth has a vain streak as wide a gold dragon is hardly a well-kept secret. The quickest way to this blue’s heart is praise, however sincere or insincere it is he soaks it up without question and is far more likely to give someone what they want if they happen to ask so very nicely. He’s easily manipulated into almost anything with enough sweet talk. He thinks himself quite talented, quite handsome, and can’t possibly accept that he isn’t either one or both at any given time. A bit of a show-off, in truth, with enough energy to back up his many ostentatious antics, Kastegarth tends to act before doing, and the fact that he and V’maran are almost in sync and never once doubt each other during drills or Thread has had both its upsides and its drawbacks over the Turns.

As brash as he is bold, it’s not that Kastegarth is incapable of thinking, just that he’s so very sure of what he and V’maran can do that he rarely affords anything much thought, let alone a second one. He is, however, a dutiful wingrider. Even now, he still seems quite young, quite unwilling to settle into the ‘dignified gentleman’ category when it’s simply so much more fun to do everything else, to bounce and laugh and dash around like a senseless Weyrling. His presence fills a room (either naturally or on purpose), although it’s only now as he passes the thirty Turn mark that he’s starting to mellow out and lose some of those childish impulses to gain attention (and it’s about sharding time). As sweet and buttery as he can be, Kastegarth is known to be as stubborn as V’maran, as scathing with his criticisms and as sarcastic with his wit.

Approved: May 27th 2025
Last updated: June 1st 2025

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Persona Profile: V'maran