Side note from a New Englander: 30s aren't that cold xD They are used to 100s, though, so I guess it's fair-
Athrin Loxcil Marvor
"I'll take care of it. I know you don't want to."
Twenty-five | Male | Mechanim | Lover
Thoughts on Nomads:
Athrin is a Mechanim at heart- he doesn't believe in what the Nomads do, and he likely never will. For Sori, he's tried to compromise, yet whenever he looks at her, he sees who she could be as a Mechanim. The Nomads, to him, seem cowardly, an opinion that'll stay with him his whole life.
Appearance:
Despite his endearing personality, Athrin is not one with soft looks. It may be influenced by his mechanical upbringing, desert life, or simply genetics. It could be a combination of the three, as it likely is. He's built sturdily at 6', with large bones- unlike many lean men and women, his bones are much less likely to break, being slightly bigger than average as they are. He's lean, yet not lanky or disproportionate, being covered in a surprisingly thick, but often undermined, layer of muscle from head to toe.
Atop a strong neck, he has a diamond-shaped, narrow face. His hair and eyebrows are pitch-black, framing what one would be first to recognize: amber eyes. Narrow and almond-shaped, they're a brilliant shade of orange-gold, accentuated from true amber into something wonderfully stunning. At rest, he seems as if he looks through you; not so much to your soul, or at you, but as if you were never there in the first place.
His nose is straight and pointed, matching a broad yet sharp chin and high, visible cheekbones. His hair is short, messy and slicked, greased into his own style with his oil-covered hands. With wide but thin lips, he smiles often; broad and jovial, his smile makes his eyes sparkle. There's nothing particularly special about his teeth, only that they're slightly cleaner than the majority. He has a lover, you know.
This man always seems to have a sort of glow about him. Some speculate his honey-golden skin tone so rich as to cause it's own radiance, others believe it's the tone of the sun living within him. In any case, he's handsome, looking much like what a Mayan may have seen as a sun god, especially while having surprisingly deft fingers for large hands.
As for tattoos? Only one. It starts small, as a line running down his wrists, going on the underside of his arms to his back, where they join to become a tattoo that moves with his joints: a large machine, wrapping around his shoulderblades to stripe across the top of them, intricately decorated down to his tailbone. He wears dual gold earrings in his left ear- after all, why not?
What he will wear, commonly, is his sand-colored clothes, oilstained enough to seem gray or, at times, black. The cloth coverings consist of a longer shirt and thicker pants, clasped at the bottom by wraps and desert boots. On his arms are long wraps beneath fingerless gloves, helping him do better work with the protection. A dirt brown scarf, emblazoned with red, wraps around his neck- and occasionally his head- to guard from sandstorms. In the wintertime, he has cloth easily wrapped around himself to stay warm in the frigid weather.
Personality:
Athrin is, in some ways, an enigma. He likes to talk, but doesn't do it often, making it evident to anyone who knows him that he's more of a thinker, living inside his own head. He's imaginative, and a bit of a dreamer; often, when by himself, he can be found staring into the distance, as if he can just make out what he sees in the future. Working with his hands is something he enjoys doing, and at the simple mention of a mechanical issue, he'll walk over and do his best to fix it, being a person who doesn't mind getting to help. And, in fact- he likes helping people. Yet, because of his willingness, many people may discount it for stacking favors from others.
He has a rough side; more, it's a sense of determination, a need- a drive- to finish things, to make it through and tough it out. If there's a challenge, he'll get to doing it and laugh afterwards, if only to instill a sense of wisdom with people who'd rather not be corrected. If no one else wants to do something, he'll do it. It's this sense of "we can't abandon what needs to get done" that often drives him to do what he does, taking leadership while others back down.
He likes to dance. He likes the feel of the cool night air on his skin, and the smell of the fire in the dark nights. He's needy; if he were left alone in the Ocean of Dunes, he'd go mad trying to find his way back to the people he once knew. He's blunt, recognizing when others' thoughts are in someone's head and reminding them who they are, or who they want to be. There are no expectations from him, no judgement, only a companion with a loud and common laugh.
Does this make him a pushover? No, absolutely not. If someone threatens him, he always seems to know what to say- even when to go to arms, if he has to. He's more than willing to be the first to a fight, to root himself against that which tries to make him, or who he considers his people, nothing. He wouldn't back down if his life depended on it, instead, trying to change whatever causes his life to depend on it.
He does get angry, but when he does, it's often taken out on small things he finds or builds in his free time, turning them into things that could cut, saw, or destroy sparse and already dead vegetation. When that runs out of excitement, he'll lie on the sand, and dream about a life free from the endless desert. Very set in his ways, he doesn't always agree with what the Nomads say, but is willing to overlook it, if just for Sori.
Sand Crawler Appearance:
Athrin's Sand Crawler is his own, for certain. It's the dark color of dirt, sitting high above the ground with large wheels. Yet it still sits low enough for close combat- who knows when he might need to take out his khopesh? The frame is built out of jet black steel poles, giving the rig a firm structure. It has no doors, and no windows; but it does have a roof, specifically made for the heavy rains. The rig is, essentially, flip-proof- the wheels are set farther away from the rig, so it's more square in form. If it does flip, a system's installed for the wheel axes to separate; the rig is built to split in the middle, with the back- where he sits- to automatically right itself.
A thin but sturdy few metal sheets cover the entire underside of the rig, giving it a lip at all the edges, and a ram in the front and back. This prevents sand from getting into the engine while giving easy removable access to the chassis. For the rain, the rig can stretch, hydraulics and frame able to be pumped up to whatever extension needed based on the size of the flood. Tools and spare parts are attached to the frame for easy access when necessary. There are a strip of lights directly above the front ram, two on the edges able to flip around to the rear so he can see what's behind him, if he needs to.
There are hidden weapons all around the rig- a saw, powered by the engine, that takes the place of the rams. Spikes on the hubcaps, blades behind the movable lights... what you'd expect. It's fully equipped for whatever situations come to pass, especially in cases of war or emergency.
As for a personal touch? He runs his rig as a manual, with levers controlling the rams, lights, and metal sheet underneath. The gas and brake are one pedal: the gas goes back to a limit, and then it starts to brake, depending on how much of a lead foot he can have. There is a pendant attached to the left side of the frame, one that his father gave to him. It was his mother's. A Warhound is etched into the front- a symbol of the Marvors. A Komodo Rhino.
The tires are covered in removable spikes, meant to dig into the sand for better traction. This- his whole rig- is something Athrin is extremely proud of.
Affiliations:
Athila Marvor | Mother | Deceased | The person he got his... well, everything, from.
Qalikath Marvor | Father | Alive? | The person who raised him- he's incredibly close to his father, but still distances himself from becoming like him.
Ilira Sirain | Aunt | Alive? | She's... the only one he knows willing to tell him stories of when his mother was young. He used to sit for hours, listening to all the trouble they'd gotten themselves into.
Sori Hema Rye Khoroushi | Lover | Alive | He would lay down his life for Sori, more than a hundred times, or a thousand, or all that would threaten her life. He cares for her deeply, even if she may not know it.
Weapons:
A khopesh and smaller version of the chakram, the chakri, two on each arm.
Strengths:
Mechanics | Whatever mechanical challenge you show Athrin, he's got it down. Just look at his rig. He knows how to handle most common issues with machines- and if they're not as common, then it's a wonderful learning opportunity.
Fighting | Just like his mother, he knows how to fight, and can do it well. It may not exactly be his most treasured skill, but it's still something he's glad to have, and he knows is useful.
Intelligence | He has a way about him... a sense that seems to make him look and act intelligent. This intelligence is natural to him, something he's willing to work with and use, but not boast on.
Weaknesses:
Mounts | Mounts don't like Athrin. Perhaps they know he's a true Mechanim, or maybe they don't like him being with their Nomadic princess. Either way, any time he's even near one, he's likely to get "accidentally" kicked. Occasionally, he gets thrown off, if he tries to ride a mount.
Bluntness | He is not one to speak softly about something, instead, telling how it is. He has a hard time getting along with many, and has likely started scuffles, as they don't like his "difficult" perspective.
Speed | Because of his rig, he has a tendency to not do a lot of running- and, as a result, is slow. If he were in a marathon, his height would keep him from being last- but he'd be far from first.
Backstory:
Athrin never knew his mother. He heard stories about her- a brave Mechanim, fighting against the Nomads whenever they intruded, or wherever they chose to start a battle. She was seen as a hero, to him- Athila Marvor, Mechan warrior, self-proclaimed leader of their warriors, and an astounding mechanic. Somehow, he knows this is where he got what he loves from; this mysterious woman, this secret saint. How she loved campfires, how she loved wild things and cold nights and let music just take hold of how she moved.
It's a shame; she died when he was only a few months old. He was left with his father, a man who'd challenge him, who'd push him to always be someone better while not letting a negative act go unpunished. He had little expectations for his son, the only one being that he should be a good mechanic, just like his mother. "Just like your mother." He looked like her. He sounded like her. He was good at the things she was, and even acted like her. He was named after her, for goodness sake. His father would speculate if he was even his son; Athrin seemed to have picked up very little qualities from his father.
When he was 18, he went out into the Ocean of Dunes- by himself- to find an Oasis. In his family, it was a rite of passage; making it there and back alone, alive, was what made their family so resilient. This... this is where he met Sori. It wasn't really a "meeting"- he saw her from across the Hidden Oasis, and she may or may not have seen him. He... wasn't sure. But, since then, he started to frequent both Oases, taking any chance he could to see her, to know who she was.
Once, his father followed him, curious about his activities. He found out about his being smitten with Sori, and appointed a chaperone to him, one that would ensure he never went to see her- or, if he did, that he'd stay distanced. Naturally, it failed. He gained a friend, and- over time- a lover. They both knew that if they were found out, nothing good would come out of it. So he came up with a plan: they'd go to the Greenland.
He decided to take his best friend, (to be considered), and a few of his childhood acquaintances who wanted a better life for themselves. The rest is history.
Other:
You know what this partially reminds me of? Divergent. That Desert Wasteland mirrors what's past the wall, but less... alien-esque.
Fall 
Night Weather: 
Hurricane Moon: 
