A seductive smile and a friendly gaze greet you when you look upon this young lady. Thick, straight, shiny, ravens-wing-black hair tumbles in unfettered ribbons from the crown of her head to her waist, rippling with her every movement. Eyes the same grey color as thunderheads before the storm, framed by long, thick black lashes, glitter out of her oval face. Smooth skin of a medium tan color covers delicate features, refined without being doll-like--aquiline nose, full lips, smooth cheeks. Though not precisely buxom, her figure is most assuredly female--curves in all the right places pique interest as she walks. She stands approximately 5'7" tall, and carries herself well, adding the illusion of an inch or two more to her form. Long legs and arms are graceful, rather than lanky, and fine-boned hands are nimble and talented. Her smile is ready, and her gaze direct and unflinching--no shrinking violet, this. She appears to be about 17 turns, 1 month and 5 days old.
| Jalynia's White Sari
A lightweight fabric in pristine white swathes Jalynia's figure in ripples of cream, fitting beautifully to her well-developed figure. A formfitting top, ending just below her midriff, is mock-turtlenecked and sleeveless, showing off well-toned arms and waistline. The second piece of her costume is a floor-length petticoat, tied just above her hips with a drawstring. The final, and most elaborate piece, is a fluttering sheet of sisal wrapped and pleated and draped around her slim form, ending with a single drape that goes around one hip and up over her shoulder. The fabric is unadorned, save a delicate embroidery of pearls around the edge. Her feet are shod in simple sandals, serving to keep her feet off the hot ground of the Southern Continent. Her thick dark hair is confined in a low chignon. |
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Jalynia's Red Sari
Jalynia's costume for the day is a study in red--a deep, rich claret that sets off her dark skin and ebony hair to perfection. A short-sleeved top, sweetheart-necked and buttoned up the front, starts the ensemble, fitting closely to her body and ending just below the bustline. A floor-length underskirt, also in deep claret red, sits at the top of her shapely hips, tied tightly with a drawstring. The third piece of her costume is a sari of lightweight sisal, silky smooth, and dyed mostly the same deep crimson color as the rest of the outfit. Patterns of gold are woven into it, though, mimicking the embroidery that accents the top. The sari is wrapped around her waist, pleated, then wrapped again, with one fold going over her right shoulder and fluttering behind her. Twin bangles of gold settle on either wrist, and a delicate gold chain, hung with bells, encircles one slender ankle. Strappy sandals of brown wherhide cover her feet. Her long black hair is swept into a low, sleek runnertail, confined by a criscrossed network of wherhide thongs dyed the same rich red as her dress that wrap around her hair for about a handspan and a half's distance. |
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Jalynia's Dancing Dress
Jalynia's slim form is wrapped in an exquisite dancing dress, designed for a serious dancer. Black fabric stretches to conform to every one of her curves, flowing over bustline, slim waist, and curving hips with equal grace. Slim spaghetti straps hold up the sweetheart-cut bodice, running from both sides of the front down to the low back of the dress in slim trails of ebony. The skirt is cut in an asymmetrical hemline, roughly mid-thigh in the front and stretching down to mid-calf in the back. The left side of the skirt is slit to the top of her leg, forming an exquisite drape when she is standing still...and an exquisite tease when she is in motion. A sheer insert in the back of the skirt, starting at roughly mid-thigh and forming the longest part of the skirt, provides extra interest. Glittery detailing in black and white edges the top of the dress, as well as the hemline. On her feet are delicate, high-heeled sandals, a single butterfly-shaped band going over her toes and delicate straps wrapping around her ankles, dyed almost the same tan color as her skin. Her thick ebony hair is braided, then wrapped into a tight bun and pinned so it can't fall from its position. |
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Jalynia was born in Ista Weyr, the daughter of D'lys, a brownrider at said Weyr, and Jania, one of the assistants to Ista's headwoman. The only child of a weyrmated pair, she was spoiled utterly rotten at an early age. D'lys had other children due to flights, but Jalynia was Jania's only offspring, and as such was much cherished. A pretty child, with unusual silver eyes, she quickly became the pet of the lower caverns.
As she got older, though, childish prettiness became adult beauty. Blessed with perfect features, a lithe figure, and a waterfall of pure ebony hair, she learned at a young age that she was considered a beauty, especially by some of the younger male inhabitants of Ista Weyr. Before she reached puberty, the only thing that mattered as far as this was concerned was that it meant she could bat her eyelashes to get whatever she wanted. Upon reaching the worldly age of thirteen Turns, though, she learned what it was the boys wanted in return: her. She quickly became an accomplished flirt and tease, acquiring a veritable entourage of young men who would trail around in her wake like so many puppies. She lost her virginity to a rather randy bronzerider postflight at the tender age of fourteen, which opened up an entirely new world to her. From then on, there was no going back.
Jania and D'lys, upon seeing what their daughter was becoming, were more than slightly dismayed. Jania was originally Holdbred, brought from the small holding called Silver Sands as a Candidate, who didn't return home after being left Standing. D'lys was also Holdbred, though he had ridden for many a Turn before Jalynia's birth. Instead of accepting her antics or trying to gently show her that the way she was acting wasn't necessarily a good thing, they began to close themselves off to her. Jalynia, possibly in an unconscious attempt to attract her parents' attention once more, got even worse, essentially sleeping with just about everything male that would sleep with her--which was a large number indeed. Eventually, her mother in particular couldn't take it anymore. Right after Jalynia Turned seventeen, Jania shipped her daughter off to Southern Weyr, in the hopes that a radically different environment would temper, or perhaps tame, her daughter's wayward ways.
However, the best laid plans of mice and men must sometimes go awry. Jalynia arrived at Southern, sure enough. And lo, and behold, on perhaps her second day at the Weyr, she met two young men in the weyrhall. She didn't know it then, but those two would irrevocably change her life. Both were bronzeriders. The elder was L'mir, rider of bronze Brielth, and wingleader to Moonsweep. The younger was V'tali, rider of bronze Enaeth, and wingrider for Stormfall. Jalynia, being who she was, set out to entice one, the other, or both of them. She didn't really care which combination she got. V'tali was the easy one, being barely two Turns her senior, and very much her match in attitude. L'mir was a lot harder...at first. He didn't precisely ignore her, but he certainly didn't encourage her.
Jalynia never talks about what it was that altered her relationship with L'mir. All the Weyr knows is that one day, they were spotted kissing rather passionately outside her cottage. If asked, Jalynia admits that something rather earthshaking happened, but she won't get specific. Time went on. L'mir and Jalynia only got closer, and closer, eventually deciding to try seeing each other exclusively. The move shocked Jalynia senseless at the time. Over the course of the several months leading up to that development, she had found herself falling hard for L'mir. It appeared he was doing the same thing...
...until one day, when Jalynia (now affectionately known as Jaly to the residents of Southern Weyr) spotted Sylaith, Jelisa of Honshu's queen dragon, outside L'mir's cottage. Jelisa had been seeing L'mir previously, and the sight nearly knocked Jaly senseless. Things degenerated from there. Increasingly insecure, and not terribly happy, Jaly sought solace in talking with V'tali. Eventually, liking blossomed into something more--love on V'tali's part, a deep friendship and need on Jaly's part. Fed up with L'mir's constant evading of the subject, she ran straight for V'tali's arms, agreeing to weyrmate him after one night of intense talking, accompanied by the antics of her little bronze firelizard, Jesten, and a certain Candidate known as Aislynn, who later Impressed brown Gineth.
The news was enough to break L'mir's heart, though she didn't know it until after he had left for the Northern Continent abruptly. Instead of simply letting him go, though, Jaly found herself in a turmoil. After he returned, she was forced to face up to her feelings--she was not in love with V'tali. At least, not in the same way. She loved him as a dear friend, but what she felt for L'mir was far deeper, and far more enduring, than even she had thought. It took a single occurrence to completely dissolve her half-formed resolution to stay with V'tali. Since L'mir's return from the North, the two of them had been gradually warming up to each other again. One night, on the porch near the pavilion, he tossed her in the lake. Uinn, rider of green Emeleth and Jalynia's best friend, tossed L'mir in shortly thereafter. It was as they tucked themselves under the porch, out of the way of divers, that he kissed her. One kiss was all it took to shatter every last ounce of resolve in Jaly's heart, and force her to look at herself deeply.
Jaly left V'tali shortly thereafter, breaking the poor man's heart as well. She kept to herself in her cottage, not coming out except to do her duties as an assistant headwoman. Eventually, L'mir coaxed her out of her self-imposed isolation. Despite everything she had put herself and him through, those simmering feelings they had always had for each other still remained, and were perhaps even stronger than before. In fact, he actually confessed that he loved her. Once. But once was all Jaly needed. Due to a past heartbreak of tragic proportions, though, L'mir was very wary of giving his heart out, especially to one who had already broken it once. The two started seeing each other again, first casually, then on a more regular basis, until finally they ended up practically inseperable--though they haven't weyrmated. Why it is they haven't taken that step, when they spend almost every free moment together, confuses many people. The wise know they have their own reasons for not wanting to commit so completely.
As of this writing, Jaly keeps herself busy as an assistant headwoman, doing some sewing on the side. The former seamstress doesn't take commissions the way she used to, instead using her talents to make gifts for her friends--and baby clothes for the two children L'mir sired during their estrangement. She doesn't particularly mind, seeing it as more useful to live in the present, plan for the future, and not worry about those things in the past that she can't change. L'mir has grown more and more devoted to her, as she has to him. If it's possible, the bond the two of them share has only been made stronger by the trials they've been through.
Of course, you all knew that -that- couldn't last. Idylls are merely an illusion. And wouldn't you know it that the quiet little life Jaly and L'mir were leading got turned on its head when Tiarnath rose -- and Brielth caught, shoving L'mir into the role of Weyrleader. Now, that in and of itself wouldn't have been so bad, except no sooner were the eggs laid than V'tali's Enaeth snagged Jaly to Stand for the clutch. Jaly was skeptical. Lisanth hadn't so much as sniffed, after all, that she knew. Did V'tali Search her to get her out of L'mir's bed? She didn't know. All she knew was she was the first and for a while only occupant of the barracks. Eventually she had company, though, forming some firm friends in the persons of Jachin, a Harper apprentice; Kelli, a burly handyman; and Eireann, her replacement as a seamstress.
The weeks of Candidacy dragged on and on. Jaly was forced to watch from afar as Telinda and L'mir appeared to be growing friendlier and friendlier. Her trust in him wasn't misplaced, though -- nothing beyond the friendship was going on. Days and days of chores and more chores blended together into a blur, interspersed with interesting episodes like Eireann's ruffled underwear flying through the air. The big event of candidacy was a tsunami that soaked the entire Southern peninsula, severely damaging the Weyr and keeping all the Candidates busy with repairs.
Then the day of the Hatching arrived -- shrouded in grey. The offshore volcano that had triggered the tsunami had erupted again, blanketing everything in ash. And, if that weren't bad enough, no sooner did the Candidates get out on the sands than it started raining, coating everything in a sticky black mess -- eggs, Candidates, hatchlings, everything. Things were going swimmingly (pardon the pun), Jaly standing near Jachin, Kelli, and Eireann, when something that kind of looked like a hatchling looked at her. << Jalynia! It's me, Joleath, and I've found you! >> And, as if that weren't enough, the rain began to rinse away the sticky grey coating, revealing that Joleath was not grey, but bright, shimmering, fiery gold. One can only wonder what L'mir's reaction was to that.
So Jaly entered weyrlinghood with Joleath at her side. Joining her were Jachin, now J'cin and lifemate to bronze Teharyth; Kelli, now K'lli and lifemate to bronze Venalth; and Eireann, lifemate to green Auribeth. It promises to be an interesting time, as N'all, Southern's legendary Weyrlingmaster, is notoriously tough on metallic riders. Still, she's going through it with friends, so at least she's not alone.
JOLEATH
Dawn's first rays slant, illuminating sylvan glade, ostracizing diaphanous mists that leave ethereal filaments clinging to nebulous trees -- motes of dust sprinkling sparkles of sunlight that dapple golden hide. Antediluvian gold glitters over flanks, flowing like an aureate river across shoulders and haunches, hints of turquoise swirled amid the flaxen tones as though rich golden ore tumbled amid a mountain stream. Rings forge the elegant lines of her neckridges, forswearing the archaic gold of her flanks, interlinking to casemate the tips as they curl down to her tail, circled in burnished metallic tints. Rosy pinks mingle with prismatic indigos limning the curve of her belly, rainbow hues arcing across the gilding like a bridge of colour, before rooting themselves in the earthen shades of her malevolent talons. Flames dance along pinions, immolating wings in a roaring conflagration of molten fire, leading edges ignited with omnipotent crimson, trailing edges reborn in gilt.
All references to worlds and characters based on Anne McCaffrey's fiction are copyright(c) Anne McCaffrey 1967,2000, all rights reserved, and used by permission of the author.
Logs
That @*%&^# Song of Aislynn's at its genesis
