Lessal : Wherless/Candidate : Male

Name: Lessal

Honorific: L'sal

Age: 19

Season of Birth: late spring

Birth Hold/Weyr: Greenfields Hold

Time at Hold/Weyr(s): 19 years (at Greenfields Hold)

Gender: Male

Sexuality: Hetero

Rank: Holder, Handler, Wherless, Candidate

Dragon/Wher:  Kin Lessask

Pets: None





Play-By: Joseph Gordon-Levitt

Eye Color: Blue-grey

Hair Color: Black

Height: 5'1

Build: Short, unremarkable

Overall Description:  Lessal is not handsome. Nor is he pretty. Rather, Lessal looks like an enthusiastic little boy who forgot to grow up. A quick look at Lessal tells you he was not chosen for his bodily strength. No, Lessal is a delicate sort of creature, resembling a living tuning fork of emotion. He has dark hair that seems plastered to his head, pale skin determinedly pulled across his broad face. He has long fingers, cuticles and nails chewed to bits. Far from being the steryotypical long and lanky nerd, Lessal is actually quite short by Pernese standards, at 5 feet 1 inch.

Lessal's clothes are usually dark and unremarkable, and he likes them that way. He does, however, wears a large coat that has been repaired about six times when it is colder than usual. Otherwise, he wears a black suit with a white undershirt both of which are too large for him.

The eyes, it is said, are the window to the soul. Lessal's are blue-grey, a gift from his mother's Hanrahan side. They are wide and emotional, varying from fear to curiosity to childish joy-and learned, pathetic, stubborn sorrow. His voice cracks when he gets overexcited, and it will never be at the deep basso of a dragon rider.



Lessal has two strong beliefs regarding clothes: Nobody can ever have enough pockets, and the more comfortable they are, the better. He's added pockets to his few garments, giving him a patchwork appearance-or lumpy, as they are almost always stuffed with trinkets or items or items of uncertain use. His clothes are usually stained with the effects of some recent adventure, from paint to mud to hot klah. As he is/was usually spending time, caring for his father's runners or other Hold chores, he dresses down for general work in ragged shirts and trousers. Since his arrival, he's been so busy exploring (read: sticking his nose in everything) that he hasn't really considered getting new clothes. That, and he hasn't got a mark to his name. But he wouldn't tell you that.





Likes:

Watching dragons

Doodling

Listening

Singing

Reading

Comforting

Dislikes:

Bullies

Liars

Scary stories

Strengths: 

Reading

Comforting

Falling in love

Being obedient

Watching dragons

Doodling

Listening

Always thinks the best of people


Weaknesses:

Loud noises

Easily frightened by scary stories…or anything else for that matter

Can't really tell when somebody is lying or not.

Gullible

Always thinks the best of people

Can't lie about anything, even when it's in his best interest

Overall Description:  Lessal has tensile strength. That's the only way to describe it. He's timid, yes, but if he really, really wants something, you'll have to tie him down to keep him from it. Not that you'd guess it. If he's not adamant on something, then Lessal is a quiet, obsequious kid. Often he will do other people's chores so they will have more free time. When he is nervous or upset, he likes to hide in small inclosed areas (behind furniture, in closets, that sort of thing.) You can always tell what Lessal is thinking-he gets a big goofy grin and turns red whenever he lies or has a secret.

He likes to read in his free time, and is not a big fan of sports. This might be a problem as time goes on, but they'll work it out.

Lessal loves everybody, and if you're looking upset, why, a hug is just what you need! He is not actively amorous, though if you have two X chromosomes to rub together, he probably has had a crush on you, but was too shy to say anything. Oh, yes-Lessal always has little gifts for people. If he sees you like, say, sewing, well the next day he'll find a new spool of thread for you and a needle too!

Lessal is also a crier. Not just soft little sniffling, no-it sounds like something's being ripped apart. He's tried to stop doing it so often, but he can't quite do so.

Lessal's nickname, Freak, gives two very clear distinctions about him: He is stubborn as Thread, and thinks Sabishi should have as much respect as anyone else gets. Generally speaking he is a gentle sort, kinder to drudges than most Pernese in this Turn and Pass. But he knows what it feels like to be laughed at behind your back, between his love of dragonkin and eccentric sense of right and wrong. The only reason I'm called crazy, he often writes, is because at the person in front of me, not the knots on their shoulder.





Mother: Lessina, Healer

Father: Kals, former Guardsman

Siblings: Sivila, older sister (named for Lessina's dam)

Children: NONE

Background: Lessal's father, Kals was a young gaurdsman in a minehold the day he impressed Aoi Ksk. Only 18 Turns old at the time, Kal was eager to prove himself against the older gaurdsmen's sharp-tongued taunts. It was only through Ksk's Wherly stubbornness that he stayed with this desperate boy who ceremonially clipped his wings with a blunt belt knife, at once crying and roaring with rage when some slight was discovered. Kals was taught Whers were mindless brutes that could only be controlled by force (an unfortunate view he keeps to this day), and Ksk's body often showed the scars of punishment. Thankfully, this temperament did not extend to his wife Lessina, whom he married during his stint with Ksk.

Unfortunately, disaster struck when a gang of hotheads attacked the Hold and Ksk was killed in the fighting. By this time Kals had enough marks to acquire his own cothold, where he and Lessina set about raising two children.

Sivila was the first, of course. Small, slim, musical-her long, clever fingers and wide eyes bought her admirers by the time she was ten Turns old. At fifteen, she went onto the Harper Hall, where she is now an accomplished Journeywoman. But the second child, Lessal, was different. He properly loved his father's tales of Ksk, but he was entirely too sympathetic to the Wher-or any creature, for that matter.

How he survived childhood was a wonder in and of itself. Kals disliked him in the extreme, not seeing himself and suspecting Lessina of adultery. Sivila, on the other hand, was a miniature Kals, save female-same eyes, same face, same hands and build. But you didn't hurt a lady, Kals knew that, and so Lessina was kept safe. There was still the fear Kals would snap, however, and that was what kept her from speaking out when Lessal was hurt or beaten or came to the breakfast table with bruises that hadn't been there at dinner.

The boys in his class were, in a word, unkind. They figured out he was not only gullible but soft, delicate, and would do anything to have friends. So it was Lessal who was the fall guy for many of their schemes, the one they pulled pranks on when there was nothing else to do. If he complained, they simply said that he was being too sensitive and they were just teasing, it was nothing. It is only now, years later, that he's realizing perhaps this wasn't exactly so. The bullying, when he complained about it, was soothed by his mother, who simply applied compresses and homilies-only one soothing the pain, and poorly at that. As for Kals? The more he complained, the more he'd be punished. Simple as that, and Lessal was smart enough to keep quiet after the first time.

He was musical, yes, but not in the way a Harper had to be-singing at random, even blasphemously altering the lyrics to suit Whers. At this point, Kals decided it was time for Lessal to "grow up" and had him stand for an egg. Several weeks later, after an embarrassingly large amount of care for the rocklike egg, a small, golden Wher tumbled out.

You Mine! I Lesk! I Wher! You Mine! The expression of mindless exultation as Lessal performed Lessask's Blooding replaced Kals' smug satisfaction with disgust and rage.

Lessal took to calling himself L'sal. For had he not Impressed? And was a Wher not a sort of dragon? Lesk and he became closely bonded, allowing for Lesk to speak more easily than the run-of-the-mill Wher. Lessina avoided Kals and Lessal, believing it would be a chance for the two to bond over Whers. Their arguments came to a head when Kals threatened to take Lessask's training in hand as he had Ksk's. It was after dinner one night, and Lessina was working late. "Dad, her name isn't Lesk anymore." Lessal corrected him carefully. "Her name is-name is--"

"It doesn't have a name."

"She does!" Lessal squeaked out, then fell silent and trembling. He knew what was coming.

"What did I say about talking back to me?"

"Don't."

"Why?"

"Because you know about Whers."

"You know what to say, don't you, you little brat?"

Lessal winced.

Kals snorted. "Finish your dinner."

Lessal did as he was told, though the food tasted like dirt in his mouth. He'd talked back. He'd screwed up…

Kals hauled him out to the shed, out to Lessask's half. It was an easy enough task to chain Lessask down, young and delicate as she was. Lessal shut his eyes, concentrating on sending the terrified Wher thoughts of hope and safety and pleas for forgiveness.

"Dad, wha-ow!" His father's huge paw nearly crushed his own, entwining their hands around a knife. Lessal squirmed, kicking as best he could.

"Dad, please, please, I'm so sorry, please, I don't want to-"

Lessal bit Kals' arm as hard as he could, and the man responded by slugging the side of the boy's head, hard enough to leave a week's worth of bruising.

"Leave her alone! She hasn't done anything wr-"

Another thump, and another stifled cry from Lessal.

"Be quiet."

The Kin howled in pain, screeching as loud as Lessal was sobbing and screaming by alternatives as Kals spread her wings open and forced Lessal's hands downwards-once, twice, eight times in all until her back was effectively in pieces.

"That's what a man does, Lessal." Kals chuckled. "He sees what needs to be done and does it-and she'll make a better hide than she ever did alive."
------
That was when Lessal, tiny, pathetic, wher-boy Lessal, snapped. He attacked Kalv with the same knife used to kill his only friend and stabbed his father to death by her side. 
------

Since then, Lessal fell into a numb state of being. He followed orders decently enough, which was good enough for Kals, but Lessina knew he needed a better healer than any salve-maker can offer. If you asked him how he was doing, he'd still smile and say he's alright, sure, but there's now a dullness behind his eyes that makes him look like a dead thing. Whatever happened that night he no longer remembers, just as he's oh-so-sure his father died training a runner rather than the darker reality.

Whatever it was, he knows, whatever he lost, it was terribly important.