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Messages - RaynePOTM

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Plot and Scheme / Re: Rayne's Plotter
« on: September 10, 2018, 12:26:10 AM »
Cool cool both M'dak and I were anticipating that may be the case.
I will throw up a thread then some time soon  :love: Let me know if there's a specific date/time you want, otherwise I'll just make it up.

Plot and Scheme / Re: Rayne's Plotter
« on: September 09, 2018, 10:41:55 AM »
I'd be up for a thread of him asking, and then W'sar gauging his interest in mountain. Maybe even chatting up B'lye after to get the info on M'dak, but ultimately he won't be allowed to help. XD W'sar is a crazy stickler for rules and organization, so he won't be having a rider from another wing helping them when he thinks they should be using whatever extra time, if they have it, to help their own wing.

BUT that will be a good way from M'dak to get the fact he wants it Mountain out there and W'sar and B'lye can chat about it.

Plot and Scheme / Re: Rayne's Plotter
« on: September 08, 2018, 06:15:58 PM »
Hey fam, I've been thinking M'dak would like to offer some of his downtime to assisting Mountain wing with some scribing services or the like. In the hope of showing himself as useful and in the future hoping W'sar would accept a wing transfer.

But for now, he just wants to help out Mountain Wing with whatever.

I think he'd tried to find a time to approach both of them at the same time and offer his scribing services - but if he couldn't he'd find and ask B'lye cause he'd feel like he wouldn't want to waste W'sar's time.

Leeeet me know what you guys think would be the most likely thing
I'm happy if this just turns out to be a quick thread of him asking (and they can say either yes or no), or if you want to just be like he asked in the past and we can do a paperwork thread (if they said yes).

@SanctifiedSavage @RaynePOTM

Hatching Sands / Event The New Normal [ 24.6.2591; 2 PM ] || Hatching
« on: September 05, 2018, 11:05:21 PM »

As much as he had dreaded this day, it had arrived regardless. Just as O’sir had known it must inevitably do. He could no more stop dragonets from hatching than he could halt the orbit of the Red Star, even if the former had now also become synonymous with destruction and death. The best he could hope to do was prepare the Candidates as well as he could and hope that things worked out for the best.

Changing turns of tradition was no easy thing, and hatchings had occasionally been deadly before anyway. Though certainly not as often. But creating any sort of padded shielding for Candidates to wear under their robes simply wasn’t practical, and there was only so much damage it would have prevented regardless, with as sharp as a dragon’s teeth and claws were. Ultimately, it had been a solution that bore no real merit with the resources currently available to the Weyr.

So, too, had been a suggestion of having more than one Queen attempt to contain the Reds when they hatched. O’sir had been hesitant to bring it up in the first place, but had hoped it might make a difference. It had been disappointing, but unsurprising, when the Senior Weyrwoman had confirmed that her Gold wouldn’t stand for such a thing. Until they Impressed, those were her babies, and she would tolerate no other Queen commanding them, or attempting to.

And the last thing they needed was two of the Weyr’s Golds fighting amidst what was already bound to be a chaotic situation.

At least this time, the first shell didn’t crack in the middle of the night. O’sir was in the classroom when Saibrasoth reached out to him, voice low but tinged with some fear. It’s happening. He knew his rider would know exactly what he was referring to.

Not all of the Candidates were present—but he was overseeing those receiving extra tutoring or mentoring from older students. When he stood, O’sir could feel their attention shift to him; it was with a fairly heavy heart that he told them, “The Hatching is starting. Remember what you’ve been taught and get your robes on.”

Saibrasoth echoed a similar message to those not in attendance, and O’sir hoped they would be prepared. Some of their physical training had now begun to include ways to mitigate mauling damage—to shield sensitive places if they were attacked, like their eyes. And to curl up to protect their abdomen if they were downed. How to help an injured classmate, but also not to interfere with a dragonet at risk of getting hurt themselves.

Maybe it would be enough.

O’sir himself made his way directly to the Hatching Sands, knowing already what would certainly await him there.

This time, it was four Red dragonets already hatched and running around the sand, playing and chasing each other but heedless of anything else for the moment, including a handful of other eggs that were shaking violently, apparently with the intention of hatching soon. More Reds? The hatchlings seemed to notice him when he arrived, but cared not for his presence nor anyone else's. Not until some of the Candidates started to arrive and step into the chamber.

“Move slowly,” he cautioned them again, as he had before. “Don’t make yourself a good target for chasing.”

That was asking a lot, given some of their classmates had died the previous turn from errant claws. But running from the creatures would only make things worse. At least, O'sir noticed as he stepped out of the entryway, Healers were already arriving on the scene, prepped with supplies needed for first aid. Quick treatment could be vital for any Candidates that were injured.

Little could be done once the Candidates were on the Sands, but the Weyr had done its best to prepare for this Hatching.

Spoiler for OOC:
The clutch is hatching! :shock: Which means it’s time for your Candidates to stumble onto the Sands—and don’t forget to wear the ceremonial robes and send any fire lizards away. As always, you can check your other characters in at the OOC thread, though Hatchings are open affairs and other people are welcome to spectate.

As the Hatching progresses, we’ll also be tallying the bets everyone made here. And once the first PC has Impressed, this post will be updated to link to the dragonet feeding thread.

For those intending to directly app weyrlings into this clutch, please wait to post your apps until after at least one dragon of your desired color has Impressed to an NPC. There will be plenty, so don’t worry! You can find the guide to our weyrling apps here.

Good luck! The next admin hatching post will go up in about 12 hours.

Feeding Thread

1 - Brown 001 to NPC12 - Blue 001 to NPC23 - Black 001 to NPC
2 - Anedaith to D'via13 - Bronze 003 to NPC24 - Blue 002 to NPC
3 - Ysolth to Vassatiere14 - Brown 002 to NPC25 - Blue 003 to NPC
4 - Green 001 to NPC15 - Rintoth to R'ghal26 - Hisketh to R'kan
5 - Bronze 001 to NPC16 - Brown 003 to NPC27 - Heppath to D'vik
6 - Bronze 002 to NPC17 - Oskith to Ysveta28 - Red 005 to NPC
7 - Black 003 to NPC18 - Blue 005 to NPC29 - Green 002 to NPC
8 - Black 004 to NPC19 - Red 006 to NPC30 - Green 003 to NPC
9 - Red 007 to NPC20 - Green 005 to NPC31 - Black 005 to NPC
10 - Green 006 to NPC21 - Derraseth to Na'va32 - Green 004 to NPC
11 - Green 007 to NPC22 - Red 009 to NPC

Adoptables / Re: Creature Bank
« on: September 03, 2018, 11:23:39 PM »
Have some more red dergums. GIVE THEM GOOD HOMES.

Hfex Codes: #A62639, #DB324B, #511C24
This is what your dragon's voice could look like.
Background: #511C24; Text: #DB324B
Code: [Select]

Hfex Codes: #FF8989, #FFAFAF, #EF2626
This is what your dragon's voice could look like.
Background: #EF2626; Text: #FFAFAF
Code: [Select]

Sevastjan didn’t mind whers. Not that he’d have one of his own. He could appreciate their uses and that people adored them, but for a Harper they’d just be in the way. Flits, small and brilliant, were much more his forte.

He noted her appreciation of the farmers and actually found how humble she was quite endearing. There was nothing like pragmatic charm.

When the wher began to circle him, sniffing, Sevastjan was mindful to remain relatively still and kept his hands on the tablet. Most wher who interacted with people weren’t the bite-y sort, but he liked his hands and all his fingers. They were necessary for a lot of what he loved to do and not worth experimentation.

His smile didn’t falter, however, because her blush was adorable and he’d not be put off by a nosy wher. “It’s fine. I don’t mind friendly wher.” Which was certainly the truth. “Tiy it is then.” Then, at her question, he shrugged a shoulder. “I got the short straw and was sent along for my pretty script writing. Though I can’t really complain. I rather enjoy the simple tasks and chance to meet new people.” They might all be crammed into one Weyr, but Sevastjan had hardly met everyone face-to-face.

Though he was certainly trying.

Weyr Bowl / Re: Changes [ 08.04.2591 / 5:45 AM ] || Prairie Wing
« on: August 30, 2018, 03:55:35 AM »
Does that mean others will have to take up extra duties? Rhymoth spoke to Z'ryr after T'veck announced that he would still be undergoing Weyrling training.

Seems like. It might be a little disappointing for his wingleaders, maybe the other Weyrleadership, but it didn't really affect Z. In fact, knowing that the black rider would be fulfilling his duties even less than a Weyrsecond usually would, meant that Z'ryr would see him even less.

It did seem like a flaw in the system. Someone who hadn't even finished their training for becoming a rider, was somehow supposed to be overseeing fully fledged riders. Well... overseeing their paperwork. So maybe it was better after all. Better riders in Wings rather than stuck in offices for all hours of the day, doing Faranth knows what.

Regardless, Z'tai's statement left no room for any more questioning from him. The bronze rider had said business as usual, and worrying about whether or not T'veck, a complete stranger to him, would succeed in his role, was not something that interested him. There were far too many people in the Weyr to be a bleeding heart about every single one of them.

Come Rhy. Z'tai said to get to work.

Will the new Weyrsecond be joining us? Rhymoth asked curiously, apparently still unsure whether or not he was allowed to approve or disapprove.

I suppose we'll find out. He quipped, as he stepped away from the slowly dispersing group of Prairie Riders to start their duties for the day.

Weyr Bowl / Re: Changes [ 08.04.2591 / 5:45 AM ] || Prairie Wing
« on: August 26, 2018, 08:46:58 PM »
Spoiler for OOC:
It's OK @RaynePOTM K'zaya will be late :D I haven't figured out how injured hewas though. So I'mma assume he's healed <_<; aaaand the rambling

Oh! Oh. Also Fyenoruth speaks to any dragon that would have been nearby >_> If you want that. Except for Baleth and Jenrath. 'Cause that would be stupid.

I for one, welcome our new black overlords Fyenoruth rumbled into the mind of the dragon nearest to him, his tone snippy though whether it was because of the new weyrsecond or just a general irritation would be unclear. He was quoting verbatim something K'zaya had said the day before, and the irritation was more the sullen sting of defeat at having lost yet another gold flight... though perhaps less so than the previous turn when a dragon smaller than he had won. At least Baleth was somewhat closer to his own size. It wasn't that he held any ill-will towards other dragons... just that he felt that he'd do a far better job of leading the weyr than any other dragon. Though catching Imyth would be a junior position. He'd still do a good job of it... Better, he felt, than a brown or black dragon in any case.

So long as he could make K'zaya present himself accordingly.

The rider in question was nowhere to be seen, despite Fyenoruth's presence in the bowl, and though the bronze made a show of trying to pretend that the young man was standing just out of sight, it would be apparent through the lack of any tack on the dragon that Z'tai's warning had fallen on deaf ears.

Kzaya was in fact, lingering in the dining hall, savouring his final mug of klah while Fyenoruth, exasperated went to join his wing on the 'bowl. It was far too early for anyone in their right mind to be up and well, and he'd managed to sleep in far too long to have his Klah and drink it too... So while the threat of Latrine duty might have been enough to rouse him... It wasn't quite enough to have him keep time as he'd wanted to... And Fyenoruth was less tolerant than usual in the wake of his own loss. Faranth knew hed regret not hurrying that morning shortly.

The new weyrsecond is addressing us. Best you hurry along before you find more than latrine duty thrown your way. Fyenoruth added for his rider alone, the sulking irritation easy to identify this time... and somewhat less able to be ignored with the annoyed push to hurry him up that came with it. K'zaya might brush aside the punishments that came with his lackadaisical attitude, but Fyenoruth knew they could do better, and the critique stung all the more for that fact.

//OK. OK. I'm done. I've just gotta grab- //

My gear can wait until after we're done here. You're already late. Let's not snub the new weyrsecond - and our weyrleader hung unspoken as the bronze continued to scold his bonded, - More than we have already. I should be thankful you found the time to oil me after Imyth's flight else I'd be making our first impression even worse than it is already. He continued with all the ire of a woman scorned. Following K'zaya's progress as he made his way out to the weyrbowl and attempted to sneak into the ranks of riders to stand where Fyenoruth had been implying he had been the whole time.

Sometimes I wonder what went through my mind when I chose you. Fyenoruth lamented, though the irritation had bled from his tone now that K'zaya had joined him. It was altogether uncomfortable to be present with the wing without his rider, particularly during moments of importance such as this one.

//Come on buddy? We'll just tell ém I'm still healing and it slowed me down more than I would have liked. They can't argue with a wounded soldier right?// A tease is all that was, K'zaya not stupid enough to outright lie. He wasn't exactly looking forward to the conversation he'd need to have with the weyrleader after they were dismissed... And the detour here to listen to.... Shardit. He'd missed the weyrsecond's name. Well. It was going to make him late for ferrying duties as well. Fyenoruth did look lovely though.

Just stand still. Fyenoruth growled, and while some of the exasperation still laced his tone, there was no doubt the affection towards his bonded that underlay all their interactions was present too. His K'zaya would stop being such a wherry brain one day... And had he a mind for such things, he would have hoped the hunter attack may have been the catalyst needed. As it was he just needed to keep pushing him to do better.

Weyr Bowl / Open Changes [ 08.04.2591 / 5:45 AM ] || Prairie Wing
« on: August 24, 2018, 06:39:43 AM »
Hello Prairie! Please meet promptly in the Weyr Bowl at 5:45 AM to meet the new Weyrsecond who will be working with Prairie Wing! Any latecomers will be assigned helping candidates with cleaning latrines tonight.

The walk to the Weyr Bowl wasn’t long, and Z’tai made sure to fill their time with casual conversation, bringing him and T’veck back from the Weyr-business sort of talk just before. While he was usually fun and laid back when it came to conversations with others, only those who really saw Z’tai in his role as Prairie’s Wingleader, such as Weyrleadership and his Wing, understood how easily he could transition from friend to Wingleader. He’d mastered the exchange so well that he could switch roles mid-sentence, and everyone who knew him could see it. The way he held himself, the air around him that demanded perfection and wouldn’t cave to excuses.

As they approached the Bowl, he cast a cursory glance at the candles along the wall just before they reached fresh air. They were a bit early for the requested time, so they could relax a bit in the Bowl while waiting for everyone to arrive. He would be surprised to find many there, since he guessed most would be trying to finish their breakfast or klah and would plan to arrive just before the dictated meeting time rather than wait out there.

“After I introduce you, you can say a few words. Try to keep it short—they don’t have much of an attention span first thing in the morning for speeches.” He smiled reassuringly to T’veck, knowing what it must be like to feel like you were walking into a hunter’s den. “If they do say anything, I’ll rein them in. Just don’t react too much and try not to take offense. You’re new and they’re nervous. I’m sure you’ll prove yourself to them in no time.” He patted the new Weyrsecond good naturedly on the back.

There were a few early birds, to whom Z’tai smiled and greeted. Unfortunately, it was bright and early in the morning and already hot—leading to what would likely be a sweltering day of heat and short tempers by the end of it. There wasn’t much for shade here in the grassy field of the Bowl, but the sun hadn’t risen much past the horizon at least. Hopefully the weather wouldn’t play any part on moods or temperament first thing this morning. It would certainly add to the incentive of arriving on time, though, because cleaning a latrine in this heat would be possibly the most miserable task.

Spoiler for tags:
@Jarakrisafis @SirAlahn @SanctifiedSavage @Inki @Kyya @RaynePOTM @Red @Aster @Dove
I think that's everyone with someone in Prairie

With moderate temperatures and no storm brewing on the horizon, this proved the perfect day for what the Holders and Crafters at the Mine Hall had in mind. It was a rare day when work wasn’t as endemic there as it was at the Weyr, no matter what the Weyrfolk might think of Holder laziness. Most were not strangers to hard work and effort—after all, they had survived the Pass as well, no matter what it had taken from them. Though the promise of an Interval’s peace might be lamented, many were ready and determined to make of life what they could with their increased and newfound independence.

But the leaders of the Hold and the leaders of the Crafts knew that people still needed a break. Food might be a concern, and the Hunter attack in previous months had proven that life was still dangerous outside of the Weyr Bowl—but if the Ninth had one long-reaching effect, it was that it had enabled those on Pern to learn how to forget those things for a time and celebrate. A body could only stand so much worry and state of high alert before it needed to relax, if only for a little while. For an afternoon and an evening.

So the picnic had been arranged, Master Crafters and Hold leadership alike agreeing that the day would be characterized by an early end to shifts, save for those absolutely necessary to the functioning of the Hall. And with the midday sun beaming down on the grass and cleared space behind the halfway-completed wall, things almost seemed normal, if not necessarily ideal.

Families and friends alike had gathered, pockets of people clustering at various locations around the space to talk and eat, sitting either directly on the grass or on old blankets brought outside for the purpose. Whers still patrolled around the perimeter, or accompanied their handlers side-by-side, but they were relaxed, at ease. Some of the gentler ones were even playing with the children that chased and were chased around the clearing while their parents talked.

All in all, it was a pretty day. The continued struggles of life on the island aside, it seemed a peaceful one too.

Spoiler for OOC:
It can’t all be monster attacks and death all the time. In contrast to the Last Gambit event, this one is open to all Holders and Crafters living at the Hall—and any family or friends who may have caught a ride down there from Prairie Wing to celebrate too. Have lunch, relax, reconnect with loved ones, and reflect on how far things have come in the past turn.

As always, there is an OOC thread you can check in at, and it can be found here. :bird:

Weyr Bowl / Solo This is harder than I thought it would be [ 12.02.2591 / 8AM ] SOLO
« on: August 21, 2018, 11:53:25 AM »
Getting up in the morning wasn’t difficult for S’ric. Sleep hadn’t ever been a thing he’d craved and he’d always been a light sleeper anyways. It didn’t matter that the weyrling barracks was safe or that he had a dragon now. Some habits just died hard, or were likely to never go away.

What was becoming difficult, however, was the monster of a dragon that Dakrith was becoming. He’d long outgrown the size that was easy to fight, physically. Just two months ago, he’d officially become taller than S’ric. Now, Dakrith effortlessly looked down on his bonded. Never mind that his wings and body were... well. Dakrith was becoming a big dragon. S’ric couldn’t help but compare him to the others around and, while he found the others lacking, he noticed that the Black was just... big.

That made working with him even more difficult. S’ric actually missed the days when Dakrith was small enough to pin to the ground and push around. Then he didn’t have to talk the big creature into doing anything. S’ric felt oddly helpless in a way he’d never had before. Just because the black dragon was bonded to him didn’t mean he could make Dakrith do anything. The black dragon had made that wildly apparent as soon as he’d been bigger than S’ric. While never hurting his bonded beyond repair, S’ric was now decorated in a plethora of scars from his own dragon’s claws and teeth.

Marks of honor, Dakrith thought. Scars of annoyance, to S’ric. He wasn’t afraid of his dragon. He’d just never been forced to compromise, verbally, with anyone. Or anything. It was so far out of his comfort zone that, well, neither of them really knew what to do with one another at times.

That was wildly apparent in their lessons.

The young dragons were supposed to start hopping flight practice, with some guidance of their bonded, this morning. Most seemed excited as they lined up in the early morning. Thick gray clouds blotted out the early morning sun and left dew on the grass that wouldn’t evaporate for some time. It was a wet, chilly morning but S’ric, nor Dakrith, minded as they took their place amongst the others. If there was a wide birth around them, neither of the dragonpair minded.

If anything, it was preferable. S’ric hated people near him, especially if they tried to talk to him, and Dakrith didn’t have time for other dragons when there was training to be done. He wanted to be the best, the strongest, and he would climb over anyone to do it. S’ric included.

The weyrlingmaster demonstrated the hopping technique. How the dragons should have their wings, how the bonded should be a focal point and help guide their dragon. S’ric bitterly thought he was going to get squished. Obviously the dragons were only supposed to fly in their direction, not expressly at them just so such a thing didn’t happen.

I won’t land on you, he growled, irritated that his bonded would think he’d make such a mistake.

S’ric didn’t have to look at the black to convey his skepticism. A faint hiss was the dragon’s response before they were told to spread out. The weyrlingmaster assistant would be watching them and helping them adjust where needed.

S’ric and Dakrith walked away from the group, trying to give them as much space as possible. As was preferred. Even as they were walking, S’ric idly watched as Dakrith was testing his wings. Flaring out the charcoal colored skin. Trying to feel the air and currents as the assistant spoke of. With his wings fully extended, Dakrith was... well, he was so big. S’ric couldn’t imagine him getting bigger, but he suspected he would.

//Alright, you stay here. I’ll go take up a point across the way.// S’ric said before he jogged a short distance off. Roughly three of Dakrith’s dragon-lengths, he guessed.  Dakrith was supposed to do short hops in his general direction. Not at him.

S’ric still thought he was going to have to dodge the black.

One of the things S’ric had to begrudgingly grant his dragon was Dakrith’s ability to focus. He could feel, and see, even at this distance that the black was trying to sort his wings out. They weren’t just useless things on his back, anymore, and he was trying to get used to them being so outstretched, gauging the small breeze that teased through the weyrbowl. He was quite focused. Concentrating.

Neither of them saw the bronze until it hit Dakrith on his side. He’d clearly overshot his mark and been unable to right his glide, nor been smart enough to just spill the air from his wings and land in the grass before hitting Dakrith.

The response was too fast. S’ric didn’t even have the chance to register what was happening before it was – Dakrith’s rage hit him just as the black lashed out at the bronze in quick fury. S’ric might’ve been annoyed at the stupid bronze for the mistake, but Dakrith’s reflex response was pure, violent anger. It’d been perceived as an attack and the black responded in kind. He’d been rolled on his side from the hit and Dakrith brought all of his claws to bare on the bronze, tearing at his chest and belly.

The poor bronze let out a cry of shock and pain, trying to untangle himself from Dakrith while the bronze’s bonded ran over to them, screaming. Shouting. S’ric didn’t hear any of it as he watched, oddly detached and a little curious.

He knew they were going to be in trouble for this and knew he should be trying to calm Dakrith, but at the same time... maybe the bronze shouldn’t have flown into his dragon.

The fight, if it could’ve even be called that, was over quickly. Such things tended to end in a rush when only one party was trying to fight and the other was trying to run away. The young bronze didn’t want any part of the snapping, slashing black. It was only when, as the bronze tried to flap-run away, and Dakrith moved to go after him that S’ric knew, now, he had to intervene.

Couldn’t have Dakrith chasing him across the wet grass, could he? //That’s enough,// he snapped, thought hitting his own dragon like a mental blow, while S’ric jogged toward his dragon. Cold and stern, the thought brought Dakrith up short to look at his bonded. Eyes red, ichor dropping from his mouth from where he’d actually taken a bite out of the bronze.

He hit me first, he hissed, rage turning the voice into needles in S’ric’s mind. Easily shrugged off as S’ric approached the dragon that was far larger than he was. Dakrith was a tense, menacing monster ready to launch himself after his escaping prey. Wings flared and claws dug into the grass. Ready to go, brought up short by the small human that had drawn his attention, momentarily.

//You finished it.// S’ric glanced over as the weyrlingmaster assistant, and his dragon, were quickly approaching. //And I hope it was worth it, because we’re going to pay for that.//

Dakrith’s eyes bled into a cool blue as he watched S’ric a moment, folded his wings and sat on his haunches, then turned to watch the approach of what would be their punishment. The fight left him as quickly as it’d appeared. He wasn’t about to challenge their teachers, after all. It was.

Spoiler for OOC:
>_> They're so good. I'm cool with the bronze being an NPC unless someone wants to offer up their poor dragon.

WC = 1250  :happy:

“Oh! Yeah, of course.” Un’taigo hadn’t expected to become the meeting point for both two clutchmates and two Weyrlingmasters, but Junosabeth’s firm reminders that he was still starving didn’t leave any room for further embarrassment. But they did gesture to a seat in the area as the second of the other Brown weyrlings approached. “Nice to meet you, W’thir. I’m Un’taigo, and this is Junosabeth.”

The introduction was cut a bit short when the man shot off to get some more of the cut up meat. Returning his attention to their dragon—their dragon—Taigo held out another piece that the Brown snapped up ravenously. They realized then that C’bryn had asked W’um a question, and tuned back in just in time to hear his answer.

It was good to know they wouldn’t be expected anywhere. Un’taigo already felt as though they barely had the attention to pay other people, with Junosabeth so alive and real and present before them. So there was relief in that—and comfort in the announcement that they would be sharing a room with C’bryn. She seemed nice, and Taigo knew the reputation most Brown riders. Surely that meant there would be little by way of clashing personalities between them?

“Thank you, sir.” The words were nearly mumbled as W’um walked away, and Taigo glanced up at the other two weyrlings as he continued to feed the slowing Junosabeth bits of meat. “I’m glad we’ll be close by…” Was that awkward to say?

There is no reason to be awkward with them. The Brown rumbled a greeting in return to the newcomer after his aside to Un’taigo. Hello, Kelsameth. You’re always welcome to join us.

Then, slightly less formal, he added to his rider, I itch. A lot.

“Right.” Un’taigo stood purposefully but then faltered. “Did either of you see where the hide oil was?”

Weyrling Barracks / Private Scrubbing away the guilt [ 01.08.2590 / 2:27PM ]
« on: July 02, 2018, 10:32:52 AM »
Spoiler for Info:
@RaynePOTM for Nishi - and for anyone reading - this thread directly follows events from The Death Keen, in response to Nishi's last post.

No. I did not get hurt. Dwalath hummed in response to Xasheyth's question, mood lightening ever so slightly as they moved away from the crowds. He was still concerned about H'riel, and would be happier once his bonded's mind had calmed. The action they were taking offered it's own sense of comfort, and while usually happy to spend time with other dragons, having just Xasheyth and hers for company seemed right.

You were nearby. You also, were not hurt? He continued, eyes whirling slightly faster at the possibility that he might have been mistaken. If Xasheyth had been injured, however minor, by the same flame that had caused the other dragon to between, it would mean he hadn't been in a correct position after all. He had been so certain of it when reassuring his bonded, but was already struggling to recall specific details.

H'riel had forgotten about the wind and rain until it was no longer present, the shelter provided by his ground weyr more than enough to block out the brunt of it. He relaxed slightly once he was home, not quite so stiff in his back now that he was somewhere familiar. Nishi wasn't far behind, with Dwalath and Xasheyth making an obstacle of themselves on the ledge - a simple way to minimise intrusion into the brown weyrling's "safe space".

He moved to his chest instantly, the scrap of cloth easy to find due to how frequently it was retrieved and placed on his cot, followed by a larger cloth, and finally two changes of clothes. He didn't dawdle in giving himself a brief drying off before changing into one of the clothing sets, stepping so the bed was between him and Nishi for some modicum of privacy before turning back around and catching the green weyrling's eye.

"I'll start on Dwalath. You can borrow my clothes if you like. I am more comfortable when I am dry." He stated, indicating the extra change of clothes on the bed before retrieving the kit he kept nearby for oiling Dealath, and the cloth that served as his instructions for how exactly to do that. She may choose to duck over to her weyr and get her own clothes, or just dry as much as she could for the moment. H'riel did not mind.

He needed to reset.

Oiling Dwalath together with Nishi and Xasheyth present wasn't unusual, and the physical work that went into rubbing away the Brown's itches would do wonders for his own mental state. He moved to Dwalath's shoulder, urged on by the insistance of a particularly nasty itch as the dragon bent down to accommodate the size difference. The instructions were placed on the ground, not needed, but comforting in their own right, and the container of oil was placed just next to it, an extra rag available for Nishi.

He paused for a moment, the hand with his own rag pressed against Dwalath's hide, stepping into the dragon for a moment and taking a long, steadying breath as he pressed his forehead against him. Who was to blame for the death of R'sin, Ny'la and their dragon counterparts didn't matter.... the guilt existed, and it was something he would need to live with. There and then, with the odd scent that was uniquely dragon and uniquely Dwalath's surrounding him, H'riel found some modicum of calm.

Dwalath was still his. He had not been taken from him. He had not been reprimanded.

The brown rumbled in response to H'riel's touch, allowing his bonded a moment to himself before he urged him to start tending to his hide. I still itch. He stated, though he was not uncaring.

H'riel nodded and started the process of oiling his dragon, his free hand always seeking out a bit of dragon hide for comfort even as he used his other to properly address his bonded's needs. His dragon came first, and would continue to come first no matter what happened.

He stopped briefly when Nishi joined him, a small smile crossing his face at her presence. He directed her to a rough patch a little way away, nodding when she managed to reach it before resuming his own section, enjoying for the moment the quiet.

"Were you in danger?" He asked softly, strokes slowing for a heartbeat as he did so. "Dwalath said Xasheyth was where she was meant to be. You weren't as far away as some of the other greens." he added, concern lacing his tone. Zilanie and Weskath's interruption earlier had negated the opportunity for him to check, but the question had persisted, and so needed to be asked.

Spoiler for ???:
@RaynePOTM Did you want this to be open or private? Also.... hope it's not horrible. Assumed a bit with Nishi and if I've taken it too far please let me know.

As U’thar praised her, Tilioth nearly toppled over with how much her chest swelled. She’d always had affection for the rider because Ewonth was one of the more spectacular Blues, in her opinion. His spots had intrigued her from day one, and now as she grew older it had become something more affectionate. Tilioth had a crush. Thoughts of the Black dragons felt far away now that the Blue was in such close proximity. C’dus could’ve sworn he saw a feline curl to her dragon lips, as if she was very pleased with herself.

As much as he would’ve liked to tease her, C’dus was still determined to put his best foot forward with the day’s lesson. He didn’t miss U’thar’s lack of greeting toward Nishi. They might be the same age, and if C’dus recalled U’thar was even a bit older, but there was a huge gap between their statuses now. Nishi’s position basically made her something like a valedictorian. The best of her class, a promising rider whose abilities were enough to catch the eye of much more experienced riders. She was a god. Still, he flashed the bluerider a grin for familiarity sake, “Sorry bud, too slow. You’ll have to be quicker next time if you want to be paired with us pretty greenriders.”

He turned so he fully faced both Nishi and the now introduced Xashayth. Tilioth continued to preen and primp but maybe a little less so, a little more subtle. C’dus knew that asking questions was a key to learning, but his mind drew a blank. “Nothing comes to mind, but please don’t hesitate if I look like I’m lacking somewhere.” That was a given, that was Nishi’s job today after all. He rubbed the back of his neck, feeling sheepish.

He didn’t say anything further unless she prompted him further. He was eager to get in the skies.

//Alright Tilly, you ready?// His excitement was palatable. His Green straightened her posture and flexed her wings, but then extended a leg out while angling her back to the side so that C’dus might climb up easily. I was born for this, she responded with cool confidence.

Spoiler for Hidden:
reaaaal late. @RaynePOTM @Red

Strictly speaking, mending clothes was no longer one of his responsibilities. Though it was a common enough chore for Weaver apprentices, he hadn’t been among their ranks for… a little over a full month, now. Just long enough that he was actually going to be able to Stand for the Senior Queen’s upcoming clutch! It had been quite a surprise to him when he’d been Searched, chosen by a Blue dragon he didn’t even know and deemed worthy to present himself for those amazing little creatures that would hatch out of the eggs. Sometimes, it still seemed like a dream—a flight of fancy he had no right having even if there were other dragon riders in his family’s past.

Arveli had never entertained anything for himself other than being a Weaver. Since he’d turned twelve, it had been his calling—throwing himself into the Craft first as a balm for his sorrow and grief, and eventually because he was good at it. Because he enjoyed it more than anything else he’d ever done. His aunt and uncle had certainly been pleased when he’d taken up their profession… and perhaps been relieved that he didn’t show signs of gallivanting off back to the Weyr like his mother had, or becoming a rider like his father. His had always been the stranger side of the family, a little less grounded though still loved by the extended Holder sides of the clan:  even if they hadn’t understood his mother Avelori’s desire to go work in the Weyr and be weyrmates with a dragonrider.

In his youth, like his brothers, riding a dragon had seemed like the most gallant thing. Even though they’d understood Thread was dangerous, it had all paled compared to the vivid and wonderous stories they heard throughout their childhood. And growing up helping their father oil and tend to Kanelath certainly hadn’t diminished any.

That had changed nevertheless—first when their father, T’ver, had died in Threadfall, and then again when their mother was killed too. For Turian, it had been the final straw; that an errant dragon’s flame had killed Avelori just as dead as Thread might have, he couldn’t forgive. Arveloriann and Tuveliann had been more forgiving… but hat had never been their older brother’s way.

But even with that forgiveness, their lives had changed irrevocably. Sent to Fort Hold to live with their aunt and uncle, they’d been exposed to an entirely different side of Pern. Holder life was so very, very different… and with time, Arveli’s hopes for the future had faded to more mundane things. Even if his younger brother’s never had.

Now, though, his dreams were once again buoyed on dragon wings, rather than more down to earth in seeking a promotion to Journeyman sometime in the next several turns. Aunoria and Vemmoki had been disappointed, he knew, though they’d never said such to him. Simply asked him if he was sure and then given him their blessing. But after T’vain, after his accident… he knew they must have been scared too. He certainly was, not that he’d ever admit it. And certainly not to Turian, with whom he had argued viciously after accepting the Search.

So though he’d moved out of their family quarters and into the Candidate barracks, Arveloriann tried his best to reassure his surrogate parents. A fair amount of the time he was assigned to the Weaver Hall for chores anyway, since his experience there made him more valuable than another without a Weaver’s background. And even if he got given menial tasks that were more suitable for junior apprentices, he didn’t mind—surrounded by those who had been, and he hoped still would be, his friends and working with both aunt, uncle, and his cousin Annera.

Having someone inside the Weaver Hall had meant he didn’t need to give it all up, too. There were a few friends who he still repaired things for from time to time, including some other Candidates that weren’t good hands with a needle. That would have to change when they Impressed, of course, but Arveli appreciated having something to do with his hands in his down time. It kept him from getting fidgety.

Like now. Wuarthir had approached him to patch a couple shirts, and he’d been more than happy to comply for his quiet friend—under the condition that Wuarthir had to keep him company while he did so. Odds were good Arveli would be doing most of the talking, but he didn’t mind that either. Perhaps that was even one of the things that had contributed to their friendship in the first place; Wuarthir didn’t get tired of listening to him ramble about gossip, or news, or hypotheticals, and Arveli didn’t force him to say more than he wanted to.

After dinner was over, he’d dragged the man into one of the side booths once all the plates had been whisked back into the kitchen and the surface wiped down. With his small sewing kit open on the table, Arveli sucked on the end of a piece of string to flatten it, and then threaded the needle. Most likely, Wuarthir would have to replace one of these shirts within the next few turns—there were only so many times they could be patched before there was less original fabric than new. But it was a matter of pride to the ex-Weaver to make them last as long as possible.

Thriftiness was one of those things that had been drilled into him from a young age, and making do with what they had was a skill all Weavers had to learn in an environment where new textiles were not especially abundant.

So he’d snagged some old scraps from someone else’s discarded garments that matched in color and texture and material as best he could. From a distance, hopefully the mends wouldn’t be very visible. Wuarthir might not care especially much, but Arveloriann certainly did. They might be practical things, but there was no reason they couldn’t look a little nicer either.

His three flits were arrayed on the tabletop, lazy and watching as he started to sew. Poppet had tried to sit on his shoulder initially, but Arveli had shooed him off so he didn’t have to accommodate both flit and task. The Blue meant well, but his not inconsiderable weight would just make it all the more difficult to stitch.

Sometimes, he wished Wuarthir had been Searched too. At least then he might have had one friend in his Candidate classes that was from the previous period of his life. Of course, Arveli had no issue making acquaintances with new people… but there was a certain comfort to having an old friend that he found himself wistfully wanting.

As he sewed, he began by chattering away about the Touching and the Rider’s Bet a few days before. He hadn’t been able to go to the latter, since there was no rider he knew well enough to invite him—and certainly not that way. But the Touching had been its own kind of excitement:  his first! It had inspired a roiling mix of emotions in him far more powerful than he’d anticipated—anxiety and doubt and hope and joy all muddled up together like badly-made dyes. With others, he might have felt self-conscious talking about it all to someone who wasn’t a fellow Candidate. But Wuarthir had never seemed resentful or upset that his friend had been Searched and he hadn’t.

It was a relief, sometimes, to talk to someone so practical. What was, simply was.

And all of the thrill of the Touching didn’t compare with the strange illicit excitement he felt in hearing the gossip from the Rider’s Bet. Apparently his friend Sethunya had gotten into an argument with O’sir… It still felt a bit scandalous that the two were together, which he loved it all the more for. Sethunya was brave and knew what she wanted; and as far as Arveli concerned, deserved it. The romantic in him wanted to believe that they could survive and endure whatever Pern threw at them, no matter the lovers’ spat they’d apparently had in public.

Had it been anyone else, Arveli would have latched onto that gossip and not let go, speculating on what had started it and why, and what was going to happen next. But out of respect for his friend and her privacy, he skipped over it to simply wish aloud that he’d been able to go.

Maybe someday, when he had a dragon of his own…

If he had a dragon of his own…

He realized he was getting distracted—that his nervousness about the approaching Hatching was affecting him more than he wanted to let on—when he accidentally pricked his finger with the tip of the needle. Swearing far more heatedly than he meant to, he lifted the injured digit to his mouth and sucked off the droplet of blood that beaded on his skin. And then, to direct the conversation away from what was a rather embarrassing fumble, he glanced at Wuarthir and asked, “Are you going to watch the Hatching when it happens?”

Spoiler for OOC:
@Kyya I hope you don’t mind that this post took on a life of its own. :para:

1530 words

Universal Events / Event [ 13.4.2591 ] Just a Casual Brawl
« on: June 28, 2018, 03:07:40 PM »
Just a Casual Brawl

13.04.2591 // 12:20 PM

Since the first official wher fight at the Mine Hall, certain Holder elements have begun to make a quiet resurgence as they test the waters. This will be the first indication to the respectable Holders and Crafters as a whole that something might be amiss, though most are going to dismiss it as just a fight brought on by the tensions of diminished food and lingering recovery from the sickness that swept the settlement. Surely this is just a one-off disturbance? Maybe brought on by the passing of the one turn anniversary since the riot at the Weyr?

Whatever the case, the ongoing issues bubble to the surface even in the previous relative peace of the Mine Hall’s dining area. A punch is thrown, and then the flash of a knife. Holders may expect the Peacekeepers to quickly settle the disagreement, but Crafters, more used to their own autonomy, may take matters into their own hands.

Surely things won’t get as bad as they were at Nabol. Or, Faranth forbid, at Fort.

What does this mean?
Some of the gangs that previously existed at Fort are starting to reform, and their back-tunnel dealings and rivalries are both starting to spill over into daily life at Mine Hall. For many, this will seem very, very familiar. Whether or not your character will get involved is up to you, but there’s going to be a scuffle as an ongoing fight over limited territory breaks out into actual violence at lunch time. :bird:

IC Thread


Checked In
Daresik || Tresrissa || Sohrelle || Paylae
J'ken || T'veck

Standard event participation practice applies. Post in the event thread or here giving us a sentence or two as to what your character might be doing at this time. If you miss 5 events in a row, your account will be deemed inactive. If you are posting elsewhere but skipping the events, remember : we do not require IC participation. Simply post here under your Player account and let us know what's going on with your character.

New Members Introduction / OOC A new Welcome
« on: June 22, 2018, 04:36:44 PM »
Hey all. My name is Sucre, though you can refer to me by any name, just don't call me Surely.
As I'm slowly making my way through the Pern series (I'm going in publication order, and I just finished Dolphins of Pern), I thought it would be neat to be able to enjoy writing about my own characters in this fantastic world!

I'm dreadfully unsure of how to go about this, as I'm not very accustomed to forum RP. That isn't to say I have no experience! Forum RP is just a new medium.

I hope you'll all be patient with me as I get used to roleplaying here. And, if anyone would like to invite me to any roleplays you think my character Solark would fit in, feel free!

Queriluth was delighted to have such a colorful flock of males chasing her. The only dragon she truly recognized was Baleth, and that was scarcely so—only because her A’lori knew who the Black belonged to, and in that moment the boundaries between them might as well have not existed. Her rider’s knowledge was her own for the time being, so she knew well enough who the young male was.

But just because his rider was in A’lori’s class didn’t give him an edge. That was something he would have to earn just like any of the others. And with such handsome Blues, even a dark-hided Brown, each dragon would have their work cut out for them.

She loved most the ones who cavorted after her, just as eager to play as she was and catching the shifts in the wind. Agile and close in their size to her own, Queriluth thought they might have the best chance of keeping up with her through her acrobatics.

Yet that was also the pride and confidence of a young Green. Queriluth felt certain she could outfly any of the males there, no matter their age and size and experience. They’re dancing for me, A’lori, she purred, and her rider had never heard her voice take on such a sultry, seductive quality before. It made even him blush where he was seated, fingers tangling and untangling repeatedly in the bedfurs while he waited.

It felt like his heart had climbed up into his throat. And each time Queriluth flipped or twirled, catching a new breeze to change her direction, to shoot up or to the side or dart around another dragon who got too presumptuously close, he felt like he was reeling too. He couldn’t even summon a coherent response, other than the vague sense that he was glad for her.

But this part was for his Green, not for him. And until she chose the one that would be for her—coaxing them all to show off for her, to demonstrate that they were worthy—the riders in his weyr would remain only vague shapes.

Spoiler for OOC:
I’m planning on putting the next post up after getting back from camping, unless there’s a bunch of posts between now and then. Please feel free to post or jump in if you’re still intending to. ^_^ I’ll probably be having Queriluth choose her winner in my next post just so this doesn’t drag on forever.

Weyrling Announcements / OOC Imyth 2589 Move-Out
« on: June 21, 2018, 04:21:08 PM »
Moving Out!

It's that time again. As of 02.04, the weyrlings of Imyth's 2589 class have moved into their own ground weyrs, which they will occupy until their graduation. As exciting as it is, it's bound to be a bit nerve-wracking too, since this is another step toward their dragons maturing and their transition to being fully fledged riders.

With the small amount of active PCs in this clutch, there will be no official move-out thread. However, please feel free to post your weyrlings moving out if you feel so inclined! This would be a great opportunity for organizing a thread with fellow classmates -- or a solo if that's your thing. :love: Congrats to those weyrlings who have now moved into their weyrs!

Universal Events / Closed Flight/Run [ 7.4.2591 ] Imyth's Flight
« on: June 21, 2018, 12:15:12 PM »
Imyth’s Flight

7.4.2590 / 5:16 am

Early in the morning before the heat has really descended on the Weyr, Junior Queen Imyth chases Maelboroth from what was once their weyr. Blooding a herdbeast and taking to the sky, she summons the males of Southern Winds to chase her—and this Gold is only interested in the best of mates. Odds are, as with most Gold Flights, this will be a long one and the Weyr will be having a day off.

It’s safe to say that most aren’t expecting X'kis to keep his Weyrsecond position, since Browns aren’t known to actually win Queen Flights outside of extenuating circumstances. And though his turn of leadership has been unimpeachable, it’s safe to say that the Jungle riders who shunned this Weyrwoman last turn may be turning out to reclaim what they see as the right way of things.

If any of your male dragons are going to be participating, please post here with the following form so we can keep an updated list. You don’t have to be a Weyrsecond Contender OOCly to participate ICly! This is just gauging who is willing to take on the OOC responsibilities of having a ranked character.

Character: [{Character}] of Dragonth
Weyrsecond Contender: Yes/No. This is strictly for our OOC purposes. Do you want your character to potentially become Eimerra’s Weyrsecond? Please understand that this comes with OOC responsibilities that include making at least one IC post with that character per week and responding to all events either OOC or IC. This will also count toward the “two ranked characters” total for you, and may include some admin guidance in events and weyr politics. If you would like your character to be a contender, please also read and post in the Gold Flight Contenders thread if they are not already listed.

Please note that we won't be promoting anyone who is already involved in an IC romantic relationship who wants to maintain that relationship while Weyrsecond. Whoever wins will be with Eimerra and no other.

Code: [Select]
[b]Character:[/b] [{Character}] of [dragonth]Dragonth[/dragonth]
[b]Weyrsecond Contender:[/b] Yes/No.

Weyrfolk / Candidates / Crafters / Holders:
Since Gold dragons project their Flight Lust far more than Greens, this will affect you too. In short, today is likely going to be an unofficial day off for the weyr, and most responsibilities, unless essentially vital, will be excused. Those not willing to take part best stay out of public areas and keep to themselves.

As always, weyrlings will be confined to the Barracks and will be closely supervised by D’zel and the Asistant Weyrlingmasters. Expect busy-work chores as a distraction. The exception to this rule are those weyrlings in the Kalestath 2589 class whose dragons are now old enough to participate in Flights.

IC Thread

Eimerra of Imyth
J'dan of Brynioth
L'del of Indulth
M'kale of Hakurath
M'rek of Polanth
N'iko of Astaroth
T'stann of Nerenith
Y'tol of Bayorth
Z'tai of Jenrath
J'hal of Lesserath
M'lan of Corvath
T'veck of Baleth
K'rez of Denoth
R'ael of Uramaeth
W'sar of Sath
X'kis of Maelboroth
Faennilin of Voyith
K'eeda of Aeleroth

Checked In
Sionann || Velatha
Droissa || Nieve || Penderton || C'dus || Saviavi || Nealros || Bekareni || F'erro || T'rel || R'ael
K'mar || Callista || Aldrekayn || Phaedralena || Kharismene || Saleizo

Standard event participation practice applies. Post in the event thread or here giving us a sentence or two as to what your character might be doing at this time. If you are posting elsewhere but skipping the events, remember : we do not require IC participation. Simply post here under your Player account and let us know what's going on with your character.

Universal Events / Event [ 31.3.2563 ] Flashover
« on: June 07, 2018, 10:55:52 AM »

31.03.2563 // 11 am

Since y’all seem to like riots, we decided to give you another. This time, we’re setting everyone loose on the infamous Nabol riots! This is an event that still colors SWW’s history pretty strongly, heightening tensions between Weyr- and Holdfolk and serving as a reminder of just how bad things sometimes got during the Pass.

How does this event work?
It functions just like any other event, with the exception that it’s set in the past. However, these are still canonical, which means that we can’t have any ridiculous hijinks. It also means that only characters who could reasonably participate can join; for example, a character that’s currently only 12 wouldn’t have been born yet. And in this instance, only those living in Nabol—or visiting from High Reaches Weyr—would reasonably be in attendance.

While the event itself takes place in the past, it also advances the current timeline. As such, you can now post threads up to 31.3.2591 without violating the “no posts past the current event” rule.

Things to Keep in Mind
Here’s a list of some facts about the Nabol riots as a whole since they might be helpful for posts:
  • Nabol has been getting more and more crowded over the turns, especially with the fall of Crom in 2561. This has resulted in less food, fewer jobs for native and unskilled Nabolese as higher-qualified Holders move in, and a lot of resentment. The biggest conflicts are between Nabolese Holders and those from other settlements and the friction between Holders and riders who many see as failing at their purpose to protect Pern.
  • The group of riders is fairly small, but also open to play:  a few Search riders, and some on other colors to help transport the tithe and guard it since the tensions in Nabol are well-known. They are led by a Bronze rider.
  • For this event, the current Nabolese Lord Holder is Vandrae. Arrogant, greedy, and corrupt, he has recently alienated High Reaches Weyr by openly accusing the riders of being responsible for the catastrophic Pass. Nabol’s Peacekeepers are basically his personal guard and enforcement squad, and they are feared by many Holders. Vandrae loses his second son, Hedven (17 turns), during the riots, but he and his oldest son, Verran, escape to Ruatha.
  • The riots last for many days and eventually turn into looting and all out violence. Many families pack up and brave Threadfall to nearby Ruatha in hopes of better conditions. After about a week of unsuccessful attempts to get Nabol back under control, the Lord Holder declares the Hold closed and the remaining people are officially evacuated. These individuals will be better off and more likely to survive, since High Reaches riders reluctantly show up to help them—notably, the Wings don’t land:  they simply fight Thread in the air without offering further assistance.

IC Thread
Past Events Guide || MNPC Guide

Viscionis || L'ok

Checked In

Standard event participation practice applies. Post in the event thread or here giving us a sentence or two as to what your character might be doing at this time. If you miss 5 events in a row, your account will be deemed inactive. If you are posting elsewhere but skipping the events, remember : we do not require IC participation. Simply post here under your Player account and let us know what's going on with your character.

Blue Riders / Re: Faennilin [25.10.2572 // Bluerider]
« on: April 30, 2018, 10:15:38 PM »

Weyr Bowl / Re: Into The Dark [ 01.03.2591 // 6.30pm ] Wher Run Event
« on: April 29, 2018, 09:03:37 AM »
Quenneca certainly wasn’t sure what was going on over there but neither did she really care. That wasn’t any of her business. So she took steps away from the confrontation. More to the point, she was fully aware she wasn’t in the right frame of mind to deal with anyone else’s problems. Quensk was hot on the tail of the pretty, flighty Green wher who seemed more about tricks and dashing about then she was trying to out run them all.

He didn’t care about the fight either. While he was a protective wher, he’d never been about fighting others unless it was to keep Quenneca safe. Since she was fine, he was free to pursue the lady wher without worry. Quenneca wasn’t going to do anything to ruin that.

Trying to smooth over the situation, she smiled at Cinnacai and said, softly, “Some people just don’t know how to behave in public.”

Q'ellan smiled politely at Araena, adding a concise, "To be sure," to Araena's affirmation that she cleaned Ceryth often. It was one of the delights of being a new Weyrling, the physical connection of just spending some old fashioned time with their dragon. They spent every moment being mentally connected to one another, but it was a privilege to be able to bathe and oil and dragon. Q'ellan didn't think that would personally ever change for him. He'd be grateful for Ooromoth every day.

Thank you! The red added to Araena before turning back to his cloud-watching.

"Ceryth too." Q'ellan added. "He's becoming more ruby-like every day." They'd been in the same Weyrling-class long enough for Q'ellan to know that Ceryth would likely appreciate the compliment, even if his colour-blindness meant that Q'ellan wasn't too sure of the fact.

Void squirmed in his pocket and a soft trill informed Q'ellan of the arrival of W'lleni before the shadow of Iaoth did. An impressionistic image of a large brown shape looming in his vision from Void accented W'lleni's words to Q.

"Of course you can." He spotted W'um looming and gestured to the other two. "Come on. W'um may not be supervising so strictly today, but the old man has some good ears on 'im." Q almost flinched as the old word slipped out, but it would likely go unnoticed by the others. It wasn't as if they knew that his occasional clipping of words was him regressing into Hold-like ways.

Spoiler for Hidden:
@RaynePOTM @Red I finally did it. Here you go <3

Universal Events / Re: [ 16.8.2590 ] New Food Source
« on: April 22, 2018, 10:58:05 AM »
Phenust has arrived with the records and they are woefully inadequate. All fishers are welcome to come up with their own interpretation >:3

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