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 Posted: Thu Jun 07, 2018 11:16 am
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Was he nervous? That was a question to figure out the answer to, wasn't it? W'dre wasn't certain if what he was feeling was nerves or something else, exactly. "Maybe a little," it didn't feel like a real answer to him, and maybe Vera wouldn't like it either. "I'm....feeling a lot of things, but nervous could be one of them."
But he'd swallow those up until they were in a place he could bring them up. There was no place for any of them until he actually saw Vedra with his own two eyes. Well, he had seen her, but this was more than a passing glimpse that he didn't take to heart.
"I just never really..." oh boy, how did he put this without sounding like he was starting to backpedal? "I never considered kids as something in my future. I'm not exactly the type of man anybody would make their first choice for that."
Ah! That made sense. It was very much a time of children - both Cordrath's and of course their lifemate's current topic of interest. He'd not had much time to speak with their little ones either. Yes, should I remind them to say hello next I see any of them? it was a genuine inquiry. A small happiness he was capable of granting, at least.
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Posted: Thu Jun 07, 2018 6:20 pm
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The bronzerider grinned at A'yes words, though another part of him died just a little. Was that said intentionally? Or was it simply an innocent truth? The brown haired man just didn't know. It seemed as if A'ye and him were constantly talking one another in circles; sometimes he thought they might be flirting, while other times he felt like they were nothing but friends. A'ye couldn't possibly know how much S'del thought about him, wondered about him, wanted to find some reason to seek him out....
But they weren't wingmates, and check-ins over Threadfall could only go so far. On the one hand, he could casually bump into him at mealtime, but that wasn't always a guarantee; furthermore, he didn't want to look overly conspicuous. They were just friends, and yet, S'del wasn't sure how one simply made friends at his age. There was always dragonpoker, but that usually needed more than two people.... Bah. Anything else -- a picnic, a beach day, dinner elsewhere -- it just sounded too much like a date. Friends didn't let friends get weird, after all, and S'del was absolutely certain he was making this weird.
So he kept it all bottled up. Flight meant nothing. They were just, and would always be, friends.
"It did rather work out nice. I think you're the only one who's wanted to keep talking after my visits," he confessed with a grin. "Clearly, it was destiny." If only. Still, he'd take A'yes friendship over nothing; the dark haired man was a good friend, and a good rider. He was good people, and S'del valued that immensely.
When the other began to talk about klah, S'del listened with interest. It wasn't that he didn't enjoy the drink, it was simply a new luxury, and one he was still learning. "Well then.. Best enjoy it while you can." His eyes did land on a much larger man heading over to the table. He didn't recognize Dhawsn, but his smile never wavered. "Have some! It's an especially good batch." He encouraged, certain A'ye wouldn't really mind. There was enough klah to serve the entire feast -- there was no way A'ye could possibly drink it all. "I promise, he won't bite."
As for A'ye's teasing, the man gave a snort and a grin. "I know, I know -- I should just hang my knots up now, and leave the Weyr in shame. Gotta be honest, though, A'ye -- they taught me a lot about being a bronze rider in weyrling training, but klah wasn't much on the list. Wine was, though. And dancing." He glanced back at his friend, opened his mouth as if he were going to say something, before biting his tongue.
No.
He'd wait to ask about dancing until the eating and mingling part of the afternoon was done. He knew the Harpers would start playing some dancing music soon enough. Maybe by then he'd have a few cups of wine. "Never would've guessed that was important to know. And please. I think you forget, I'm a nobody bronze rider. I'm not rising up the ladder anytime soon, A'ye. But I don't mind. I like exactly where I am right now." And if that last line had nothing to do with rank, and everything to be with his proximity to A'ye...well. Surely, he wouldn't know. |
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Posted: Thu Jun 07, 2018 7:35 pm
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C'lusi's smile hadn't wavered. He held tight to R'shahar's hand, allowing his thumb to idly stroke the others palm and fingers, even as he watched Nadry with fond interest. "I think I'm the luckiest man in the Weyr," he mused, his smile laced with his usual flirtatious humor. "I've got the two loveliest and most attractive individuals in the Weyr before me -- every eye will be upon you both tonight." And oh, how the vain man couldn't help but be pleased. He knew without a doubt they'd turn many a head before the night was through, and he wanted to ensure both had as lovely a time as ever.
"So then, my dears, where shall we head? Inside? Outside? Closer to the babies, closer to the food, or shall I charm a Harper to kick off some dancing?" The latter was mostly a tease -- as if he'd leave either of them alone for some pipe player. He already had R'shahar, and now there was Nadry -- honestly, any more and even C'lusi would call himself out for being greedy. Besideswhich, he genuinely had no more room in his hearts. R'shahar, Nadry, and Macuith, left his heart overflowing with fondness, desire, love, care, and friendship.
There were no vacancies.
"As for a picnic, name the place, and I'll be there. We could make a day of it, just the three of us, and our dragons. Ah, but wouldn't it be delightful?" He let his eyes trace appreciatively over R'shahar, before turning to Nadry, and letting his eyes trace appreciatively down. He couldn't help it. With two delicious individuals so near, the brown haired man couldn't help but be on cloud nine, and drink in the sight of them both.
"Macuith says a beach, but I'm far more flexible than that." He purred. They both knew that, intimately.
Macuith's eyes whirled a vivid blue-green, with flecks of purple dancing in and out of his regard for both bronze and brown. He returned the headbutt with a nuzzle all his own, crooning ever so lovingly at his duo. A date it is then. You are looking gorgeous as ever, Menankith. And Viandarth, darling, I am quite sure Eveleth herself is teeming with jealousy. Ah, but the ladies shall have to eat their hearts out, for you are both mine. He stated with gentle sincerity. Menankith might have love in his heart for many others, but that didn't mean Macuith wasn't going to stake some sort of claim. He would and could be flexible for his clutchmates sake, but the romantic in him wanted the brown to know that he was coveted -- Viandarth, too.
He stretched out, immediately wishing to be curled up with both. He was the smallest of the three by far -- at only 27' -- but he could use every inch of him to flirt and cozy up with them. It's hard to imagine we were once as tiny as all that. How things have changed. |
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Posted: Fri Jun 08, 2018 10:17 am
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Little Blue all but melted at the chin scratches, his wings dropping to hang in limp sheets off his sides. It was lucky his tail was wound so snug around her arm...the noodle-like state he'd adopted make it all too clear how easily he could have toppled from his perch! Cute Nose was just the nicest, wasn't she? A Nice Gold Lady and a Nice Cute Nose Person-Lady...he could definitely see why Nice Harper Man had wanted him to come. Nice people were...nice! And it just filled the world with sunshine to meet them!
And also smoked meats but that was secondary. Maybe. For now, as long as those scratches continued!
He twittered when she'd emptied his messenger tube, neck curling to let the little blue peek, head turned fully upside down, into the vacant slot. He should probably wait, right? In case something needed put back? Still chittering conversationally to himself, the firelizard set about pawing around inside the carrier, shaking his harness to hear it rattle, and at one point managed to get the message tube's cap into his claws...and promptly onto his head, a jaunty little (crooked) hat, one headknob poking out the left side.
Once unrolled, the first of the sheets of parchment was revealed to be, as expected, a letter. The handwriting curled and raced in fits and starts across the page, thin strokes curling with casual unintended artistry here and there between and below the words.
Quote: To Lady Sylfie of the Gold Hesperith of High Reaches Weyr,
I hope this letter finds you well, and well-recovered too from the hatching-day sun your Hesperith was kind enough to hide us from. I write to you now form near the delta of the Great Dunto, as our caravan makes its way towards Ruatha Hold for a pending gather. Never one to miss a feast, my companions are, though rumor's reached me that your High Reaches too is planning something of a belated hatching festival for the little ones we watched those weeks ago. A hatching without a gather after feels unfinished—I'm sure it will provide those of similar mind with a sense of finality about the whole situation.
I've also heard that threadfall has passed recently over your home. I will admit that the news struck me with more force than it has before—I understand the duty and honor the Weyrs' riders act with, their sacrifice in order to champion the people of Pern who could not otherwise protect themselves. But to hear that you and your charming Hesperith might be in danger, I found my heart in my throat at the thought! While such tragic loss might a moving ballad make...I would rather not put my pen to such a song. I hope that you both are safe and hale. If a gold had fallen the news would circle Pern faster than even a firelizard, and so I shall seek comfort in that it has not.
Still, it is the place of friends (and forgive me if that is an assumption too far on my part) to worry after each other, and I know I will wonder after you until next I see you and your splendid Hesperith. Please know that we are well—we were not in the range of threadfall that covered the High Reaches territory, and we sheltered with Southern Telgar Hold when next it came to harry us.
I hope that Regory has not given you any trouble. He is a kind, but silly little thing, and attached to a violinist in our troupe. Thankfully, he is also easily bribed with any sort of food. If he gives you any trouble, a scratch under the chin will render him adorably limp, as well.
With all sincere and friendly affections, and hopes for your continued good health,
—Theo
P.S. Please forgive any inaccuracies in the attached pieces. I hoped that Hesperith would find them an acceptable tribute.
The latter two sheets of parchment bore no words, but ample ink. There, in the same rapid and sketchy style, were two pieces. The first was Hesperith, reclining in radiant profile, one wing lifted slightly as if in invitation to draw near. Her neck curved around to let her look, with an expression between interest and suspicion, as he'd first interpreted her upon being led to her by Sylfie.
The second piece was looser, more interpretive, though again from his own perspective. The gold was bunching, preparing to leap into flight, wings spread to cup the sky, one hind foot already lifting from the sand, which kicked up in an arcing spray. Against her neck was a human figure, some detail lost in her smallness atop the dragon, but he'd captured the flow of wind through her hair, and how the rush of movement caught her sleeves and loose hems of her attire. Her face was turned upwards, sight aligned with her gold's.
It was no masterpiece, but both were fine enough, he'd hoped.
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Posted: Fri Jun 08, 2018 1:03 pm
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Eveleth did not snort -- she was a Queen, thank you -- but her eyes whirled slightly faster in apparent mirth. Aveth was one of the older bronzes of the Weyr, and certainly was nothing like some of the males that were near. Still, he was a good, strong, handsome bronze -- and she had not forgotten his rugged sort of charm. If Thistreth was the pretty-boy, than Aveth was the tempting older man. Ah, but the Queen never forgot the males she allowed to catch her, and Aveth had always been a very distinguished bronze.
You know we spare no expense for our parties, or our people. Hopefully, you shall enjoy the gathering more now that you're properly sated. And if she had an unspoken expectation for Aveth to come pay his respects, well, she wouldn't really need to say as much. Certainly, a bronze as clever as he would know.
Besides, she had another male to entertain -- or be entertained by, if nothing else. Uridith and Takarath's bold, brown son -- Elzebuth. The brown dragon did as he was told, winging down to take over Tebath's coveted perch, much to Eveleth's delight. Tebath, for his part, threw one fearless and angry glower at Elzebuth, letting his eyes whirl red, before the brown took himself to a higher perch. Elzebuth wold rue the day!! Eveleth, for her part, paid the older male little heed, instead, focusing on the large male before her.
He certainly was handsome, for all that he was young. Still a weyrling, but already larger than many males in the Weyr. And such a dark, rich color, too. The Queen could do far worse than to let the Devil sit near. Now that you're here, brown one -- tell me about yourself. Some here don't know you -- and I would much rather we all get to be good friends. Her own words could match Elzebuth's purr with one her own, letting them caress down the brown, and others of her circle. The gold began to preen her claws, though one large, blue-green eye was now squarely on Elzebuth expectantly. She knew the brown better than he might think -- and now, it was time to hear what about him in his own words.
- - - -
Fianth watched as her mother invited young Elzebuth over, and greeted the brown with a gentle touch -- an equivalent of a slight curtsy. He was not here to be sociable with them, after all, but had come down due to her mother's bidding. Well, Eveleth was a queen who enjoyed the power and position her color had granted her, and had always been a very flirtatious queen. . . but also was fierce, independent, and did exactly what she wanted. Today, it seemed, she was in good spirits, and was ready to open up her little court to some of the younger males.
Though she listened politely, her interest was more for the hatchlings -- hoping maybe one of them might draw closer to her perch -- and, of course, Krahsujunth. She let her tail twine loosely with his own, pausing now and then to periodically nuzzle him, or lean into him. He was not so much smaller, and she appreciated his touch more than he likely knew. There was comfort and safety in the large, scarred up blue-- a male she could entrust her heats to fully.
It was quite a long time ago. It's difficult to imagine you as a weyrling, my Krah! Even when I was so small, you had always towered above. She remembered Krahsujunth well enough from her younger days -- the large blue, next to the just as large bronze. Clutchmates, but rivals. What a long, crazy road it had been -- in her youth, she had mistakenly given her heart to the wrong brother! Ah, but though it had taken its own sweet time, the fact that she now had Krah here, on her ledge, as her mate.... The difficulties were well worth it -- and hopefully, the dark blue might feel the same.
Mmm. What I want-- The pale queen hesitated, falling quiet as she considered her words. Well. Krahsujunth would well know what she desired, with how fondly she watched the little weyrlings. To see them cooing up their bronze and golden mother; to see them play together. Ah, where were her own babies? Long since grown, leading their own lives. . . . What I want is to enjoy this day with you. I lack in nothing now, my love, thanks to you. And her words were laced with tenderness, love, and absolute desire. Her eyes whirled a gentle blue-green, though flecks of purple washed throughout when she looked at him. Surely, he could never doubt the depth of her feelings for him. How is Yours and the little hatchlings? With baby weyrlings running around, and her own riders desires, Fianth couldn't help but inquire. Those who were important to him were now important to her, after all.
Honestly, what she wanted, Krahsujunth could not give, and it was a cruelty that Fianth was only becoming more aware of with time. If any dragon would make a wonderful sire, it would be the fierce blue that rested by her side.
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Posted: Fri Jun 08, 2018 1:19 pm
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Like a child with a present to open, she didn't read the letter right away, instead glancing to the end to see who'd sent it - Theo! - and flipped to the other two pieces of parchment, which, since she needed both hands, necessitated some careful balancing to keep her new blue friend from being too disturbed. Hesperith, as soon as she'd caught the thought that it was their Harper-friend, brought her great head close to peer at the drawings, delight humming through her. How beautiful, how perfect! Oh, what a wonderful gift!
Sylfie smiled fondly down at the drawings, touched beyond words that the man had not only thought of them, but taken the time to draw for them, just...just because. To some protest from her dragon, who would have liked to continue to admire the tributes they'd been sent, she shuffled back to the letter to read it. And, to better focus on it without the odd little balancing act of parchments to noodly flit, she made her way back into her weyr. "Let's go inside, shall we?" she said companionably to the adorable, cap-wearing blue, and turned her head to press a kiss against his cheek. "I'm sure you're very hungry, after coming all this way."
And she did just so happen to have a little tray of party goodies. She set the parchments on her desk and sat, and would allow the flit to use her arm as a bridge to the desk - and food! - if he so chose. Once they were all settled, she pored over the letter, and more than once had to press her hand against her eyes to keep any tears from welling up. He'd not only thought of them, but had worried about them. Considered them friends. It was hard to describe what that meant, especially as troubled as she'd been lately. "Do you mind waiting awhile, Regory? You can have a sandwich, if you want. Or a sweet, if like those?"
Quite frankly, he could eat the entire tray and she'd have no objections, not after what he'd brought her. It was more than a fair trade!
With the tiny messenger hopefully placated, Sylfie got out her writing supplies to reply...and stared at the blank parchment for a long time, wondering where and how to begin. Her penmanship wasn't nearly so lovely, nor did she have such a way with words. Oh, dear. How was she supposed to write a letter to a Harper? And how much should she actually tell him? She didn't want him to worry!
Quote: Dear Theo,
Hesperith and I can't thank you enough for thinking of us, and taking the time to write - and to draw for us, besides! Hes is in love, and a little disappointed I wouldn't leave them on her ledge for her to look at while I write, but I wouldn't want them to blow away. I expect I'll have to get them out for her to admire on a regular basis, and I'll probably do so myself as well.
There is indeed a feast tonight, and Regory is finding himself the beneficiary of it at the moment. I hope it won't give him a sour stomach, but he's so sweet, and such a patient fellow for waiting, that I had to share. They sent up a bit more than I could eat by myself, anyway, so he might as well have some.
I'm glad to hear that you've been staying safe from Thread - I can't say I recommend the alternative. That 'fall was so bad that even the Queens' Wing had trouble, but Hes and I are recovering well, so you needn't worry after us, though it is sweet of you to. I hope you won't ever need to write a sad song about us; I wish there weren't a need for any sad songs.
But I'm too happy that you wrote to think about sad things! Please take care and stay safe, and I hope that we'll see each other again soon.
Your friends,
Sylfie and Hesperith
Once she'd finished, she allowed the ink to dry (and helped it along by blowing on it impatiently) before rolling it up to tuck in the message tube Regory carried. "There," she said with a nod, both satisfied and a bit anxious, and held her hand out for the tube's cap, if the flit was quite done with its hat. "If I may?"
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Posted: Mon Jun 11, 2018 12:29 pm
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A scowl marred his face briefly, and with his thumb Ielin scooted his plate closer. "Eat your own food, there's plenty." He bites, almost with a point, into the last bit of his sandwich. The other set him off a bit, a wariness about bullies that made him want to coil a bit like an aggravated tunnelsnake. Until he pushed his plate back and further. "But if you're so hungry an can't walk a small bit, here."
The question, however, took Ielin by surprise a second. That.. that mattered to people? Color? He weighed his thoughts a minute, eyeing his cup of weak tea. "I'd be happy with any color that picked me -- green, white, a confused gold. They want me, I'll be happy with however they are." He shrugs, taking a sip. But he eyes the other candidate over the rim of his glass. "Question is.. Will you be? Since you seem so concerned about it.." Why else would someone ask?
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Posted: Wed Jun 13, 2018 4:16 pm
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Tiny blue Regory, already quite noodle-like, all but melted at the friendly peck on the cheek. If a firelizard could blush, he would have, creeling pitifully, eyes gone purple-blue-green, neck twisting to coil his head into his claws, oh so suddenly bashful. He clutched at his small "hat", hiding his face, one big bright eye peeking out...just to duck back away again. Cute Nose was so very nice, and her Pretty Lady Gold was nice, and he was clearly dead and in firelizard heaven!
That thought was proved all too true when Cute Nose went on to sit down at a table just covered in treats. Oh! Oh!! Such food! And...for him? He whined and wheedled, scrambling (awkwardly, nearly slipping off one side) back up her arm to nuzzle at her face, sending his small 'cap' toppling to the table. He retreated, still creeling and whining thankful notes, to the tray, though it took until Sylfie got up to fetch her writing materials for him to fully release her—he'd been quite happy to keep his tail wrapped loosely about her left wrist up until then, even as he plunged his head entirely into a bowl of this or that delicacy.
In the course of her writing, he moved on to sample a bit of this and a bit of that, at one point pausing to re-gather his little hat, peeking over Cute Nose's shoulder at Nice Pretty Lady. Was she not going to eat too? It was all very good. Though maybe it was too small. Hmm. Well, he would eat on her behalf then! He'd sat back on his haunches, a wedge of sandwich clutched in his claws, when Cute Nose finally held out a rolled paper to slip into his harness' tube. He made no move to deflect her reach for the cap, just chewing, cheeks round and full, and eyes a contented, happy-to-sit-here-all-day-thank-you green.
Krahsujunth sat ever tall, firm as the stone of the ledge, and just as supportive for his Fianth to recline against. His tail tips gently swayed, now and then brushing against hers—it had been a slow thing to grow confident enough to cast off his worries about her reaction to his mauled tip, but now he knew it had been a silly fear. A few inches of flesh were unimportant in the grand scheme of things. He rumbled, a low sound, deep in his barrel chest—a laugh!—as he too cast his mind back to those long-ago days. Once such memories had been rife with pain, anger, rejection. But now he could look upon them in peace and take pride in his resilience. And in the knowledge that even then, he'd not been misguided in his affections.
From tiny, perfect weyrling to radiant queen now beside him, she'd only ever been the one his hearts yearned for. And now that he had her, he knew that he would do anything to keep her. Anything aside from forcing her to stay, that was. It was ever her choice, and one he would savor as long as it lasted, or until thread or time claimed him.
He glanced away from the bounding babies as she spoke, hearing her pause, seeing her eyes still fixed on their guests. It lanced his hearts with pain to know that there was something she wanted that he might not be able to give. If ever there was a way, eh would work to find it. And if there was nothing he could do but support her, be waiting for her on their ledge when the time came...well. He'd do that too. He crooned, a low, gravel-fall of a sound for the soft praise of his glowing goddess of a mate. Then let us enjoy it while it lasts. A pity that this clutch was split. Unlike my own, they all seem to...get along.
A huff, a rumble. Laughter? By how they make Mine swear, you would think them tunnelsnakes, not hatchlings. But I feel her fondness for them. She did not expect more than one. I believe waking to see two in their nest startles her still from time to time.
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Posted: Wed Jun 13, 2018 4:29 pm
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R'ose had been contentedly shoving food into his mouth, because weyrling work burnt a lotof energy and this food was free and delicious. Far be it from anyone here to tell him to hold back and not chow down because they risked getting their fingers bitten off. Not...literally, he did have some self-control but these snacks were sooooo good and they were soooo freeee. At this rate he'd be full and laying on the floor of the barracks, all the while getting chided by Sahrawith for doing something he often scolded her about.
Thankfully she wasn't here to even attempt that, the little green off getting her romance (or whatever, he had no idea what her obsession with Cynosuth really was) on, and so he was left to his own devices of eating, drinking, and listening in on conversations. Most people just chatted the polite chat, did whatever people did at tea parties, and it was downright boring. If he wasn't on the whole 'don't do anything to terrify your dragon between' sort of probation he'd have liked to find a way to liven all this up. Like stripping, or fighting. Or fighting that involved stripping, as these were quite nice clothes and he didn't want to tear them up just yet. R'ose needed to spill a couple more things on them before he could mark them off as a complete waste.
Still, all this eating and trying not to ruin his clothes and listening in on everyone was it's own special sort of....boring. A lot of these faces he saw entirely too much now thanks to Weyrling training, a few were from across the land (and therefore he didn't need bother, he'd likely never see them again) and the others? Were were the familiar faces from the days of his youth? Youth, of course, being Candidacy only two months back. R'ose liked to not dwell on the past too much, the future was what mattered. He was so proud of himself, so smug, that he almost nearly missed the familiar tones of a fellow....well, a fellow. Someone he'd hung out with entirely too much as a candidate and clearly too little as a Weyrling. That needed to be remedied and so, plate in hand (and stacked with food), he moseyed over towards a talking pair of Candidates.
Catching the very last end of the conversation, he shoved himself in much like a bovine in a glasscrafter's workshop. "Oh yes, do tell Dynzark. I believe our new friend here needs to know the ins and outs of your wondrous personality, so he can better play guessing games with you." R'ose raised a friendly eyebrow, a matching smirk crossing his lips. "I mean, I'm a green man myself, so it'd be nice to see what you thought of that."
Prism Shine not a knight in shining armor, but take him anyway?
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Posted: Thu Jun 14, 2018 9:23 am
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