Name: Liamarc
Gender: Male
Age: 17
Sexual Orientation: Heterosexual
Rank: Candidate
Appearance: Liamarc stands full-grown at about five foot, ten inches. He's built with rather small-ish features. His head is narrow with a pointed chin, his eyes a bit on the slanted side. His mouth is almost constantly curved into a frown, sneer, or, at best, a smirk. He can smile, but when it does, it doesn't look all that good. A neutral expression remains when talking to someone he actually likes. His nose is a bit on the larger side, but not overly unnatural looking; the bridge makes a steady angle away from his face, the tip curving up slightly.
Liamarc's skin is light and bears a slight yellow tint. He has a single birthmark on the bottom side of his right arm, between the elbow and wrist where it looks as though a liquid a few shades darker than his skin spilled a drop on him. He also bears a few scars on his shoulders, arms, and legs from fights he's been in. His hair is red and falls to about the base of his neck, the bangs in front sweeping just over his eyes. The hair is usually messy; he doesn't seem to take good care of it, only to keep rat's nests from forming. His eyes are dark brown and can appear black in low light.
Liamarc dresses well, and prefers dark colors if at all possible. He walks with a certain hostility, and seems to want to be on his own. If approached, he can put on a pretty fair façade, and can often drop the hostility, but there always seems to be a twinge of it remaining. A thing to note about Liamarc is that his nails are usually sharpened, though he will often wear gloves to disguise this particular odd habit.
Personality: Liamarc is not a person most people would want to affiliate with. He is power-hungry, to put it at best, and this gives him a pretty big problem with authority figures. Arrogantly, he thinks himself the top dog, and goes to very few lengths to not appear otherwise. If he sees someone in a position to help him, he dons a friendly mask, and sidles up to them as best he can, but Liamarc is not to be trusted. The moment the person is not of use to him anymore, he jumps ship, only to return later if they should be in the same situation.
Liamarc is very confident about himself, and has absolutely no insecurities. If anyone tries to appeal to a deeper side to him, they'll find nothing but the black pit of his attitude staring back at them. If someone pushes his buttons at all, the red-head's eyes darken and a deep fury can become unleashed. Liamarc fights without any sort of logic in his movements, relying on his natural speed and grace, of which he has plenty. He scratches, he bites, and, in desperate situations, he can use a weapon. If hurt, Liamarc's anger just begins to run deeper. To cope with this, he inevitably starts laughing like a madman.
Once Liamarc calms down, though, it is almost like nothing has happened. Each person (with the exception of anyone who wrongs him very deeply) gets a new slate almost instantly. He doesn't shut down opportunities. Though he doesn't like to admit it, Liamarc does get attached to people and objects and refuses to let them go, though while he defends them, he might be hurling insults at them as well.
Liamarc might seem to be overall bad, but he does have a pretty big inability to ignore someone who's in need of help. A pair of pleading eyes, a quivering lip, and he's like putty in their hands. Women, especially, can give him problems. Girls he's legitimately attracted to will have to put up with him trying to push them away, because they do weaken him. He can be cruelest to people he likes. However, even with these different tendencies, they are few and far between an overall unpleasant person.
History: Liamarc was born in Crom Hold to a miner and his wife, the youngest of four kids, two more boys and a girl. From an early age, his father didn't play much of a part in his life, and his mother was often busy caring for their cothold to put up much with him, and so he was mostly raised by his older sister, who was already looking forward to taking care of children, and his brothers who just wanted to make it rougher on their sister, as they were all close family already and he wasn't exactly seen to them as an equal sibling. He became close to all of them over time, though, by five, he began to notice a pattern. His brothers would teach him a word or how to do something, and when he showed his sister, she would become agitated and teach him the "right" thing to do.
It wasn't long after that that he began playing them off one another, telling his sister what his brothers had told him to do or telling his brothers that his sister was going to rat them out to their parents. Eventually, as he grew older, it became more elaborate, and he watched the wreckage with glee. When his sister married, when he was about seven, she ceased having anything to do with any of them, and so Liamarc was left in the caring hands of his brothers, who teased him, made it impossible for him to have other friends in the Hold, except when they were in the mine with their father. If he should make a friend, his brothers would tell lies to the child, laughing with glee when the kid would spread the rumor, hardly seeing how Liamarc was affected.
By the time he was ten, Liamarc had grown to resent most of everybody, and had started getting into fights with everyone who taunted him with the old lies. His parents remained distant from him, his mother becoming more and more engrossed in taking care of as many other families as possible. When he was twelve, after attempting to scratch another boy's eyes out, the brother closest to his age punched and kicked him until he almost passed out, and then hid him in a dark part of the mine, expecting him to be afraid. Instead, the child crawled to a corner, sitting with his knees drawn up to his chest, reveling in being alone. Finding a rock, he filed away at his nails, sharpening them. When the brothers came to check on him the next day, instead of finding a crying, timid boy, they found Liamarc, who quietly demanded they return him to the surface. The younger demanded if he had learned his lesson, and the boy replied by tackling him and scratching with his improvised weapons. He managed to bloody the other up quite badly before the older brother pushed him off, but not before Liamarc could grab some of the black dirt to rub in the other's wounds.
When he was taken back up to the surface, he said not a word to anyone, marching to his sister's home, pushing aside her kids, and telling her what had happened. She pretty much adopted him, despite her husband's entreating. He began to subtly do things to remain in her good graces so that she would ignore his bad behavior. Not but a few months after the incident, his brothers showed up again, the eldest apologizing profusely as the other barely glanced at him – his wounds had healed over black. The eldest announced that they were leaving to go live at Telgar Hold, and Liamarc wished them well, leaving behind his temporary family to return to his parent's home.
He lived in relative happiness and living quietly, until he was thirteen and a Searchrider found his way over the Hold. Liamarc returned to Telgar Weyr with him to begin his life as a candidate. He found the fact that no one knew him empowering. Despite repeated blows of not Impressing over the next four years, Liamarc's personality grew, and he grew up. He works hard still, but feels like his life is in a rut. The feeling tends to fade with each new Hatching, the magic of Impressions renewing his desire to be a dragonrider.
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