Appearance: It's possible to look at some lads and state, right from the start: "That one's a priss". L’sean is one of those boys.

He's a pretty boy, make no mistake. L’sean has a soft face, with sloping angles and a narrow jaw, a smooth brow and a straight nose. His cheeks are made for pinching, gently rounded and quick to turn red at the slightest inclination (usually anger). The boy's eyes are a large, doey brown, and all the better to melt you with. Long-lashed and warm, L’sean wields his gaze as a soldier might wield a sword: Mercilessly, and with a purpose. Despite this, the thing L’sean likes most about himself is his hair. Light brown, thick, and with the the slightest hint of waving curls, he'll have you know it's the envy of all the girls he knows. It's a rarity, he knows it, and to call him vain would be a bit of an understatement. Laugh at him all you want for being a pretty boy, but L'sean knows you're just jealous. He hopes.

Just as you might expect, as pretty as L’sean he, he also has "sucker" written all over him. From the fancy clothes he wears (when allowed, of course-- Even L'sean knows the benefits of wearing wherhide instead of dyed cotton when you're out fighting Thread), to his articulate manner of speaking and often (unintentionally, for he's not mean spirited) unfair view of others, L’sean acts as a Terran prince might be in his castle. You won't see a spec of dust on his clothing, nor a strand of hair out of place, because that simply wouldn't be proper. Unless, of course, he's been tossed in the mud again. Such things happen, you know, when you mingle with the commoners.

These things aside, L’sean still has quite a childish look to him. He's shorter than most of his age mates by at least a few inches, and he still has plenty of growing to do. This is one late bloomer, physically and emotionally. And quite frankly? The hold will be all the happier once their resident peacock is plucked of his feathers, and starts acting like a real man. He walks like a priss, eats like a priss, and even the way he speaks, as quiet as he is, is often times enough to grind his fellows' gears. To call him flamboyant would be unfair, for L’sean does not trance. He does not skip, nor hop, dance, or do anything that sounds mildly exerting. A classic example of someone who hasn't seen enough sunlight, L’sean is simply more happy curled up in bed than he is outside exerting himself. And, you know. Doing boy things.



Personality: There are, first and foremost, a select few things which L’sean truly enjoys: The quiet, a shoulder to lean on, and a cool breeze and good music to doze to.

L’sean is not brave. He is not daring or mischievous, bold or even exceptionally clever. He cannot claim to be silver-tongued or dashing, roguish or confident. But to his credit, L’sean is other things: Things that are just as important as being brave, suave, or clever.

L’sean is honest. Sometimes a bit blunt in his honesty, but the young man always means well. L’sean won't lie to anyone, for any reason, if only because he knows from experience what a terrible liar he really is. And from those experiences, L’sean has learned that its always better to be scolded for the truth, than caught in a lie. He is also well-meaning, and at his best, selfless. There are few things L’sean wouldn't do for another who is kind to him, and for this reason the boy is also easily manipulated, and generally walked all over. Because of this, L’sean initially comes off as suspicious of others. He is used to being teased, and does not understand sarcasm well: He is easily hurt, and quick to take offense. Unfortunately, his temper is also rather short. Get L’sean's ire to raise enough, and it's likely to end in violence-- That is to say, L’sean ending up flat on his back in a puddle of mud, or nursing a black eye.

Needless to say, a fighter L’sean is not.

He can be petty, especially if he feels as if he has been wronged. L’sean is not above cold-shouldered silences or snappy insults, especially if he has someone bigger to hide behind while snarling them. The little princeling is not without his bark, though his bite is unheard of. L’sean can be downright wicked at his worst, though for the most part, the lad is about as dangerous as a lamb. All L’sean asks for is kindness, and eagerly, earnestly, he'll give kindness in return. L’sean is not one to bite the hand that feeds him, and if you happen to get on his good side, you'll have a friend for life.

It will be hard to find a friend who will more selflessly, sometimes carelessly, stand up for his friends. He will gladly listen to any worries you have on your chest, as long as you don't mind that he does the same. He'll try to cover for you if you want to play sick to skip chores... As long as you don't expect him to lie for you. L’sean will do whatever he can to make sure his friends stay his friends, for no matter what else the boy is, he is dependent on the love and support of others. He drinks it down as if it were air, and he cannot survive without it. Whether it's a smile, spoken praise, or even a good-natured laugh at his occasional joke, L’sean loves it all.

At his core, L’sean is a young man who needs others to love him, because it is hard for him to love himself.



Biography: L’sean was not born into greatness. He was born into wealth, but that was not on account of family name, but due to his father's success in his craft. Leuther was always a fine weaver, with an eye for design and a way of keeping his dyes as bright and fresh after their hundredth wash as they were after their first. The man is truly a jack of all trades, having dabbled in both leather and fabric, and has been met with success in both. The man was pleased when his wife, his childhood sweetheart and fellow weaver, Raewin, gave birth to a son. The woman had had many difficulties giving birth before, having lost the last two children before L’sean entered the world. What Leuther had been hoping for was an active boy, a boy who could take on the craft after his own fingers became too gnarled to work a needle and thread.

Needles to say, this is not what he got.

From day one, it was obvious that L’sean was his mother's son. He preferred to be held by his mother, ate better for his mother, and Leuther suspected that the babe even made less of a mess in his diaper rags when Raewin was looking after him. As the boy grew, Leuther often called him lazy.. But this was not true. Indifferent was a better word for it: L’sean did not care for sewing, as much as he enjoyed wearing the clothes his parents made. And though he had an undeniable gift for weaving, it was to the Harpercraft that L’sean was drawn. Much to the dismay of those around him, of course.

As nimble and as clever as the lad's fingers were with a needle and thread, they were just as poorly adapted to strumming a lute, or playing a flute. His voice, though sweet when he could hold a note, was too unsteady for him to be of much use in a chorus. Though L’sean was fascinated with music, the Crafters were not interested in a boy who simply wanted to listen, and not sing or play. Eventually, L’sean voluntarily returned to working his father's craft, albeit miserably.

Everyone was too kind to say it, but no one expected much out of the boy. He was too quick to give up on tasks he deemed to be too hard, and too easily flustered if met with a challenge he could not complete. So it came as a great surprise (to L’sean in particular), the day a dragon landed in the courtyard, and selected L’sean, among several others, to be brought back to Ista Weyr. L’sean, who had never won a fight in his life: L’sean, who avoided confrontation like it was the great plague itself; L’sean, who thought he was going to brown his trousers the moment that big blue took him up into the sky.

It was at Ista that L'sean made one of his closest friends: H'tosk, a transfer from Evergen Weyr. Far from terrified by H'tosk's handicap (though this was certainly the case at first), L'sean saw H'tosk as someone unthreatening, someone who perhaps knew what it was like to feel as if they were on the bottom rung of the ladder. Regardless of whether or not this was true, the man was easy to approach, friendly, and most importantly, extremely supportive. To L'sean, H'tosk's support during L'sean's difficult Candidacy was extremely valuable, and it's safe to say that it is mostly because of H'tosk that L'sean had the courage to see his Candidacy through all the way to his first Hatching. And it's a good thing he did, for it was there that he Impressed to blue Desith.

H'tosk's support didn't stop at Candidacy, however. Unable to fly in the Fighting Wings as he was, H'tosk spent plenty of time lecturing the Weyrling Class. It was a difficult transition for L'sean, who was used to seeing H'tosk as a friend and mentor. Now he was a teacher, not allowed to play favorites, and couldn't always lend a sympathetic shoulder when L'sean felt overwhelmed. Learning independence was no easy task, but L'sean managed... And in time, H'tosk was viewed less as a mentor, and more of something out of his reach: Something handsome, something broken, something L'sean wanted very much to stay close to.

And that's just what he did.

From practically the evening L'sean graduated to the present, he's had only one lover, and that lover has been H'tosk. True, some might view it as odd that the former student is sleeping with the teacher, but L'sean would prefer to believe that everyone else is jealous. It didn't stop them from mercilessly teasing him as a Candidate and a Weyrling, so why would it stop them when he chose his first bedmate? That aside, the boy was relieved when H'tosk invited him along when the other Rider was being transferred to Evergen. Not just because L'sean is happiest when following at H'tosk's heels like a lost canine, but also because L'sean has nothing to lose. With practically no friends at Ista, L'sean had no choice but to follow H'osk in his transfer... Though how he handles the adjustment is still to be seen.



Rank: Blue Rider

Place of Residence: Evergen Weyr

Pet(s):

Gold Lady: A gift from H'tosk and his (for the moment) only firelizard, Lady is extremely precious to L'sean. Lady is average sized for a queen, a touch slender, and a creamy shade of pale gold. From the way that she's babied, carried everywhere, and fussed over, one might expect her to be quite the little spoilt brat. Nothing could be further from the truth: Lady is as polite as they come, preferring to communicate in soft peeps and chirps and tilts of her head. Happier to stay close to her Boy then go out bossing around others, she's happiest when she's close to L'sean, though she likes people in general. Behold the Queen of Laps, she'll be coming to conquer yours soon.

Dragon:

Fighting Wing/Ground Crew: Proud Flare