"Deep in the meadow, hidden far away
A cloak of leaves, a moonbeam ray
Forget your woes and let your troubles lay
And when again it's morning, they'll wash away."
[where are we?]Name:
Murron (technically pronounced 'murh-en,' but it sounds like 'marrh-en' here).Age:
[what the hell]Craft:
Apothecary – technically a Healer but she can’t stand blood. Yay plants and things.Rank:
Journeywoman, (unofficial) dragon Candidate, possible wher candidate etc.
[is going on?]PB (if applicable):Appearance:
Murron is a fresh sprig of Cheer and Kind, and it shows plainly in her looks. While not particularly striking, her round face and its thick smattering of freckles is soft, and nice, often holding a welcoming smile to friends and strangers alike. Her hazel eyes crinkle at their corners when she laughs, and she does so as often as she can, with her glasses often slipping off her nose in the process. Her mousey-brown hair is long, but almost constantly pinned loosely up, with new, fresh flowers tucked into it every single day. They’re bright or colorful, like the pendant she wears around her neck, and clean, like her over-all attire of simple dresses, skirts, and loose blouses, all in whites, creams and pale hues.
[the dust has only]Personality:
It could probably be agreed that Murron was born a few centuries late in the world of Pern; someone more fitting for the times of peace and plentiful bounty than the post-apocalyptic era of today. She is not the soldiering type, or the rogue, or vengeful soul that commonly seeks out and occupies Nightwatch. While there is intense fear and hate for the Deep Ones, fighting them will never be on her agenda, and even the thought of killing them makes her want to shiver and change topics.
Murron is a kind soul, a soft soul. She can’t stand the sight of blood and can barely stomach the sight of someone suffering from more than a scraped knee. During and after incursions, it’s practically common place to see her locked in the infirmary’s supply room – working diligently but completely refusing to come out until things are over and most people have been bandaged up. Once things are calm, though, she’s her optimistic self, happily sitting with anyone, being the kinda-nurse maid with the nice bedside manner. She tends to mold many of her opinions and ways of conversation to match those of whomever she’s interacting with, often agreeing with them on [harmless] things that she technically may not actually fully agree with. Or even understand. Nods come a plenty with her, really. Arguing and getting into heated disagreements is not her thing and she’d prefer to stay on most people’s good sides and view things positively, rather than in the negative. Perhaps this is why she isn’t often yelled at by Ianthe.
Optimism is something that the woman has pounds of. To her, there’s always a silver lining to situations, and a positive note in all people. Glass half full over half empty; the world sucks enough as it is and viewing it as even more dismal won’t help anything, so why not think positively and locate a reason to want to live?
Shifting towards another topic, Murron is smart, but it’s book-smarts rather than worldly-smarts. Plants, flowers, herbs – those are her forte. She can tell anyone what this and that are for and how to make a salve for one thing and a tincture for another. But politicking? Fighting? Drills? Technology that has nothing to do with healing? She’s practically clueless. Knowing the fastest way to get from point A to B, how to get an order in at the bar, what are the best times to eat, get this, get that, sit here, don’t go there? No fucking clue.
But the biggest thing that goes over Murron’s head is sexual innuendo, pick-up lines, most flirting etc. Oh, she knows everything about sex. ….Or, er… the healer-y, science-y, natural things about sex and their corresponding parts. But sex jokes? She’ll most likely look at the joke-teller with a very concerned face and tell them that they should come with her to the infirmary and have that looked at rather than reply with a ‘LOL THAT’S WHAT SHE SAID.’ That or the joke will have flown so high and fast over her head that it causes a breeze.
[just begun to]History:
Murron was born at Nightwatch to a rather hippy-ish Harper named Miranon, and Wherhealer Bereck, though she was basically raised by her mother. The parental relationship had always been rather unconventional, but neither party has ever come off as affected by it.
Her childhood was rather uneventful, to be honest, or as uneventful as growing up at NW can get.
At age 11 her mother started to teach her Harper-y ways, which is where Murron learned to violin/fiddle. And while she loves playing, by the age of 13 the girl had an epiphany and decided she wanted to become a Healer instead. Having always kept a good relationship with her father, she went into an apprenticeship with Bereck.
After a year of trying to get over the sight of blood and gore, Murron decided it was best to shift towards apothecary work rather than the more conventional Healer-ing gig. Plants and flowers had always been a true joy for her, and learning their uses was a bit more fresh and fun than trying not to faint at the sight of a gashed leg. So that's where she's been for the past 9 or so years -- stocking, drying, boiling, mixing, plants etc for medicinal uses.
At age 21 Bereck gave her a puppy, because puppies are grand, and she named him Thistle.
I told you her life was uneventful.
[form crop circles]Pet Name
Primarily black, with white toes and half of a white face, Thistle is a short furred, medium sized boy who’s 30 pound frame is made of solid, lean muscle. Looking much like today’s Staffordshire bull terriers, he’s far more terrier than bulldog, with a slightly longer muzzle and perked, triangle ears. There’s also some more wiry, longer hair growth on his toes, elbows, chin, and tips of said triangle ears. His eyes are amber, and he wears a simple black leather collar with the ends connected by a silver ring of metal.Personality:
Thistle is a brave little shit, albeit in the initial setting of all things. He'll put on a show of bravado, but should someone or something prove to be a little too much to handle, he learns to back the fuck off. This ability to know when to call it quits has essentially kept him alive these past two years, what with between Precious and Iantsk and all the other angree beasties at NW.
But bravado aside, Thistle is a smart dog, albeit with a stubborn streak. He aims to please Murron, though, and is easily appeased by human affection or potential play-time. He is also tolerant as all get-out, letting anyone poke, prod, pinch, pick up, flip upside down, and do whatever to him. Either way, his tail will still wag, and snapping at a hand is a strong cue that there is something very, very wrong.
He likes kids, because kids mean playing and petting,and he likes to toddle around the infirmary and say Hi. While he'll come when called, Thistle is not a velcro canine and tends to wander if/when given enough space.
[in the carpet]OOC Nickname:
Zoomy etc.Other Notes:
Blight 0 ~