Player Name: weyrwolf
Character Number: 10
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Character Name and Pronunciation: Pierson
Gender: male
Character Rank: smuggler, wher candidate
Character Age/Date of birth: 25
Family: Father Irson, who-knows-where doing who-knows-what, mother Pagret, same except probably not where Irson is, older brothers who died turns ago, younger sister Igritte, half sibs are likely, but he doesn't know them
Current location: White Lightning Weyr
Physical description: Pierson has the sort of cheekbones and jaw line that can make folks turn to poetry. Light brown eyes that can look hazel at times, usually half-closed (in smirk or squint or apparent boredom), and medium brown hair that is either kept close-cut or suddenly jaw length and unruly. He's 6' or there about, long and lean with the kind of musculature that shows his ability to lift/carry/move quite well.
He's more of a half-grin than a big smile kind of guy, always seems to be leaning even if he's not - a bit slouched, always loose, like he just got out of bed or is considering getting back to it. Wears basic clothes in dark colors, and on the rare occasions he's had to dress up to blend, it's usually whatever he can steal (though he has developed something of a preference for dark shirts with embroidered cuffs.
Play By: Taylor Kitsch
Photo Reference: 
Personality: Pierson doesn't seem to take much seriously - he's always
lounging, or looking bored, being idle. But he's been working for Avidian's crew since he was young, hungry, and desperate, and for all he's got a smartmouthed comment for nearly everyone, he knows the line better than most, and keeps from crossing it. Which is basically Pierson all over - a lover, a fighter, doesn't hold a grudge, and while it's likely he's broken a heart or two (and definitely some bones in non-lover relationships), few seem to hold a grudge - he's just water, flows right on. He's smarter than he acts, but has no interest developing it - he doesn't want to run a crew, has no aspirations of getting above his station, just wants enough to eat, drink, live. What's he need for fanciness? Give him a job, he'll do it, give him a target, he'll hit it. Whether with that charming half-grin or his seeming inability to feel pain (seriously, he's not an amazing fighter, he's just stubborn as hell and isn't going to stop until it's done, no matter how much damage he takes), he'll apply the right skill without seeming to have a skill at all, and next thing you know he's leaning and drinking, everything sorted.
Theme song: "Pretty good at drinking beer" Billy Currington
History: Pierson's family have been on the wrong side of Hold Guards for generations, or at least it seems to be. He grew up on the outskirts of Holds, minor and major, and definitely holds plural. All around the Southern Continent, taking whatever job or jobs matched the low level of skill and interest one or the other of his parents had. Irson and Pagret had a parcel of kids, so they mostly stayed together, but together is a strong word. Sometimes there was food, sometimes there was scavenging (there was almost always scavenging), and from an early age Pierson learned to use his deceptively innocent face to get an extra helping of food or drink from a stranger, and avoid the folks who would kick (or worse) instead. Though he never really consciously understood it, he was well protected by his older brothers, who at various times stepped in or out or shared more food than they should have for their youngest brother.
They took their turns dying on jobs gone wrong before Pierson was old enough to truly grasp what they had done for him, but it was just natural for him to take on the same role for the baby, his little sister, when he was the last one left. Just two kids apparently weren't enough to keep that mess that was his parents together, so little by little they disappeared, and when Pierson was fifteen and Igritte nine, it was just them. Pierson had been doing runs for some of the better organized smugglers for a while by then (he was ballsy and stubborn and cleaned up astonishingly well, and somehow quite a few law-abiding people weren't nearly as suspicious of him as they should have been), and he managed to squirm his way into doing more.
It was turns into this when his loyalty was fully and completely thrown into Avidian's group - they offered security and a home for Igritte, as long as Pierson kept up his quality of work. Sure, it was a threat and a promise both, but that was how Pierson's world had always worked, so it didn't bother him. With his sister tucked away somewhere all he had to worry about was getting crates of liquor where they belonged, marks back where they belonged, and then drink and lounge in various bars and taverns and back caves around the southern continent. His sister wrote often, and he replied often enough, but didn't see her again until recently - he found out where the canyon was once dragons moved in, and took up the invitation to come back and check it out, see his sister, etc.
When Divisk, along with a handful of canyoners and dragonriders, returned to White Lightning with a clutch of wher eggs, he was interested but not especially so - yet when those eggs hardened and shook to hatching, there he was, tasked for the last of them - and walked out of that cavern with a quietly fierce little green wherling in tow.
Wher Art credited to Lady Tragedy on deviantART, coloring by SevillalostName: Piersk
Color: green
Speech Hex Code: 22f60aImpression date: first clutch at WLW
Physical description: She is small, and sleek (in wher terms), a bright, eye-catching green (like a luminous moss in a deep cave), and will likely remain on the smaller size as she reaches full growth. All the better to scout the unusual, hardly-trod paths of the canyon, or the lands outside it. Which suits her perfectly well.
Personality: Piersk is unpredictable and excitable, interested in nearly everything and losing interest just as quickly. She is also very non-showily, unexpectedly deadly. Not all growling and intimidating and blatantly ferocious, but quietly/sneakily fierce. Best not to turn one's back to her, unless one is Pierson. And even then - reconsider.
