Name: Chris
Age: 25
Gender: Male (Straight) 

Appearance: Chris has a tanned skin with square jaw and short black hair. He keeps it short, augmenting the square look of his head. His hairline might already be receding a bit. He has a large nose, dark brown eyes and prominent brows that give him a scowling look. Chris likes to wear jeans and leather and often wears dark clothes. 
Personality: Chris is a bit of a loner. He generally enjoys quiet, desolated places with gloomy atmosphere. He believes in the world unseen and likes ghost stories. He considers himself a celtic-orientated goth. At college he likes to keep his distance from others, feeling that he doesn't belong with the group of preppy and peppy students. 
Short Bio: Chris got his fascination for the darkness at a young age, He lived next to a cemetary and was often ostracised because of it. But to Chris that place was a magical, mysterious place that just begged to be explored. Death and dead creatures don't scare him.
Hobbies: Reading about ghosts, necromancy and death in general. 
Costume: Dark Druid

Pets: Brown Firelizard Kalebas (m) from Meridian Weyr
Bond: Black Nyctoth from Meridian Weyr (Halloween Gather)


A chill had settled over Meridian by the time the night arrived. Nobody was sure how the dragons did it, but the eggs were reported to be rocking at dusk the very day of the Gather. Maybe a little magic was involved, maybe the dragons were just some kind of stellar at family planning. In the low light of the moon and the hundreds of jack-o-lanterns lining the Sands, the crowd could begin to make out the candidates. Chiara, Corey and Chris were the first to enter and probably the most niormal as what followed was a parade of the unusual and macabre. Monsters, dragons and a peculiar trench coat and hat that jerked across the sands. The detail on some of those costumes was simply amazing.
As the humming of the dragons intensified, everyone focused on the eggs. When it began, there was no stopping it - one, and then two, and then four of Ponalaeth’s hatchlings arrived, spilling out of their eggs and onto the sands to be bathed in the glow of jack-o-lantern lights. It was immediately obvious that these were not normal hatchlings. Where one might expect brown, blue, green, even bronze or gold, the colours were distinctly All Hallows: oranges and blacks, without a traditional colour in sight.
Faloritoth, who’d fathered plenty of eggs before these (and these likely wouldn’t be his last), looked upon his children with a distinct fondness. Many years ago, he and his single sibling had hatched at a Gather much like this - black and orange, as it should be. The great black dragon gave a proud huff as the first four of his offspring moved to make their choices.
It was turning out to be an “everyone-hatch-now” sort of Hatching. After the first four, it became impossible for Rimaea, Shamira, and the caramel-popcorn-preoccupied Kestrel to keep track of how many had hatched.
A group of three hatchlings were practically tripping over each other as they beelined to the trio of humans. These candidates were very clearly strangers to the Nexus and more than a little offput by the not-quite-human among them. That didn’t stop the hatchlings, though! The first to arrive was orange in colour and triumphant in manner, and she sat proudly at Chiara’s feet.
"And the winner is… Ataxiath! Pleased to meet you!"
"No fair tripping me back there," her midnight-black brother grumbled. "Too bad you missed out on bonding Chris. He lived next to a graveyard once. And he’s friends with tons of dead people."
“Nyctoth,” declared the druid with a smirk. “You’ve got good taste.”
"Looks like a party to me!" The last of the siblings had arrived, unfazed by their third-place finish. While this hatchling could definitely be called black, the soft light of the Sands revealed that she was actually an extremely dark purple in hue - which paired exceedingly well with the colours in Corey’s costume! With a flourish, she continued: Introducing… "Isolath!"
“Gang’s all here,” Corey nodded to his friends. “Shall we?”

Name: Nyctoth (nyctophobia: fear of the dark/night)
Sex: Male
Colour: Black
Species: Pernese Dragon
Size Class: Brown
Personality: Competitive, Soft-spoken, has a dark sense of humour
   * Telepathy
   * Teleportation
   * Assisted Firebreath


The medium-sized black dragon hid in the shadows trying to hide from his bond.
"The telepathic bond means I pretty much know where you are. You won't be able to scare me."
"Darn." Nyctoth replied, "It would be so cool to get you to jump in surprise."
"Keep up the thinking and maybe someday you'll get that effect. Now come on we need to go train. I don't want the weyrling master to scold me as if I'm some pre-teen in school."


Chris was reading a book unsuspectingly in his weyr. Nyctoth had tried to scare his bond for the past years and had never succeeded. His bond was pretty interested in the macabre and not easy to frighten. He was good at discovering secrets and he had a knack for reading his black dragon. All of this combined made that Nyctoth tried even harder. But he never could have guessed that one of the most simple requests could getthe effect he wanted from his bond:
"How about we sign up to chase a female?" Nyctoth asked matter-of-factly. 
He was a competitive dragon and since they'd graduated from weyrling class they'd hardly had time to compete with some of the other dragons. Joining a mating flight would be a welcome diversion... although apparently not to Chris.
"What!?" the young man squeaked.
A sardonic smile appeared on nyctoth's face.
"Are you afraid to talk to women? Should I look for a female dragon with a male bond?"
"Err.... no?" Chris replied trying to calm his beating heart.
He'd hardly interacted with other people who weren't family. He hadn't exactly been the life of the party before and even here on pern he'd been regarded as unsociable by other dragonriders. They left him alone and were generally amivcable but Chris didn't mingle. 
"I'm juts in it for the race, let me know if you want to woo someone." Nyctoth continued pressing his bond.
Going from keeping to himself to joining a woman (or man) during a mating flight was too big a leap. The thought alone mortified Chris. He wondered if he could ask someone for help"
"You could try to get to know the riders of the females I'll be chasing. That would probably be a good thing."
It wouldn't do to have his bond die of cardiac arrest during the flight after all... 



Lantessama Isle