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Messages - Jarakrisafis

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“A month?” The word came out in a low hiss, though she hadn’t really intended it to. That was quite a span of time to keep something from her and the rest of their family, unintentional though it was.

Had they not been where they were, around sleeping youngsters, she’d be half tempted to fight him. Certainly to yell at him, propriety aside. Instead, she took a deep breath through her nose and closed her eyes for a moment, waiting for the fresh wave of anger to pass. This wasn’t quite the confrontation she had pictured in her mind during the course of the day, but it would have to do. And J’ken’s apology did mollify her somewhat.

When he came around the desk and spread his arms in an open gesture, Jo quickly stepped close. She didn’t hug him right away though, aiming a quick jab of a punch at his upper chest:  solid enough to hurt some, but not hard enough to really do any damage. Just expressing all the thoughts she couldn’t raise her voice to vocalize the way she’d planned. Immediately afterward, she sighed and looped her arms around him in an embrace, resting her head almost in the same place she’d just hit him.

“That’s no excuse, you bastard,” she murmured. But he’d know the hug meant she wasn’t really holding a grudge.

Hatching Sands / Re: Some Blessed Tradition [ 20.7.2591; 8:15 PM ] || Event
« on: February 03, 2019, 08:15:33 PM »
It was difficult not to notice the fleeting irritation that crossed the faces of the Jungle ridersas they made their way towards him, his hands clenched into fists as he waited for what he assumed was going to be an argument as to whether he belonged on the sands, paying his respects to the clutching queen or not. It wasn't exactly an ideal situation to begin with, but he wouldn't roll over and show his belly if they decided to try and bully him off the sands.

When they instead veered towards Nalata, paying him as much attention as they would a crawler beneath their feet, M'lan couldn't quite help the pang of anger that stabbed at his heart. Their intention was clear as they fanned out around the young goldrider, a wall of jungle riders to stop him encroaching any closer on Nalata's space. Even having expected some sort of animosity, it was a difficult thing to witness, and with the pleasant tone that the other weyrling was speaking with them M'lan was certain there was no chance she'd decided he was worth defending. Why enrage the greater weyr by sticking up for the mutant riders? She didn't have to tolerate them any more than Oriath and Vanelwynne did.

He wanted to be angry, to go tell them to back off and let him enjoy weyrlife without being judged for every second of it, but there was a bitter resignation in the fact that he wasn't ever going to get away from such a reputation, no matter how well he and Corvath behaved. He could not risk drawing attention to himself anyway, not with so many of the weyrleadership present. Storming off would be equally risky... he'd only just arrived after all, and if he were completely honest with himself he didn't want the Jungle riders to know they'd gotten under his skin.

Who are they?! Corvath snarled, his voice bristling with the insult delivered to his rider even if M'lan was in the process of trying to reign in his response to the perceived slight. The last few months had been riddled with the black's almost overwhelming anger towards others, needing to do more than sunbake and conduct drills on a day to day basis, particularly after losing a queen flight to his own clutchbrother. His desire to be treated as he deserved to be treated made mountains of the smallest issues, and with situations such as this one arising, not even dragon memory was serving to mollify his urges.

/The usual. I’ll leave soon./ M’lan tried to keep the annoyance from his tone as he spoke to Corvath, trying to keep the black calm. If he decided to confront the Jungle Riders himself, he’d end up reinforcing the reputation that followed most of the blacks around like a bad smell, and there was little doubt the intent to do just that, never mind the consequences was present in the black’s tone.

Despite his efforts, and a promise to do a quick flight before lights out, Corvath could not quite satisfy himself by simply sitting in the weyrbowl. Disinclined to temper his rage more than M’lan had already managed, Corvath slunk his way forward with little regard for any other dragon that might be between him and the hatching grounds, eyes whirling a fast red orange and appearing very much the monstrous beast the Black Dragons were reputed to be. He did no harm, though he did hiss at a green that didn’t move out of his way quickly enough before he was hunching down as close to the hatching grounds as he dared. There were gold dragons present, and while he was inclined to buck against their authority, he was not so blinded by his anger to realise doing so would be idiotic, particularly where eggs were involved. His rider was unharmed, and he would be able to meet him as soon as M’lan felt he was able to leave the grounds, without encroaching on the gold’s space.

While Corvath may very well have been an impressive and somewhat foreboding sight to those with little experience with the Black Dragons of the weyr, but despite having reached adulthood, his inexperience worked to counteract a more fearsome appearance. There was no doubt he would unnerve some, but he was really only so bad in his present state as an angry, sullen teenager, making a lot of fuss when it would be far more effective, and economical to reserve his energy for whatever fight he wished to have. All bark, and no bite as the old adage went, which given his almost giddy enjoyment of tearing apart prey was as much a testament to M’lan’s efforts in keeping the dark storm of hostility reigned in as it was Corvath’s age.

Spoiler for OOC:
I hope that works for you guys. Kinda want Corvath to be hunched near the hatching sands, a respectful distance away but pissy, and portray a… almost childish anger as opposed to something more dangerous. But not sure how well it’s translated. Just sing out if I’ve fucked up.

Announcements & Events / News Half a Decade
« on: February 01, 2019, 07:20:16 PM »
SWW Turns 5

This anniversary was technically on January 17th, but the roughness of the early year meant we missed it. Better late than never though, right? :faint:

Either way, this is... quite a milestone. It's hard to believe that we've been around that long, and we wouldn't have been able to do it without all of you. Thank you, from the bottom of our hearts, for sticking around -- or returning, for those of you who have -- and continuing to believe in us and this place, despite forum software messups, lost posts, and some haituses as life overtook us all. Everyone that's currently an active player has been given the below award to reflect this accomplishment. Here's to getting to a full decade. :love:


Sanctified & Alahn

It was too early in the morning for Thraybaneth. He was always a slow waker, and this morning was no different. For the past few minutes, V'orni has been standing beside her blue trying to wake him up. Her roommates were already gone and there was a lesson that they were now late for. Thraybaneth, wake up. We are late for a lesson. This does not look good on us if we want to become a Searcher. She was finally getting a response, Thraybaneth's little hum was vibrating his nest and her mind. Come on love. She finally got him at her and he mimicked a yawn before finally getting out of his nest.

I am awake.... Not that he wanted to be. So here came the pair, running to the Weyr Bowl, and late at that. They came to a quick halt next to T'kos and Jairynth, seeing as they were the last pair in the line. She looked at T'kos and was about to ask him what they were doing when Thraybaneth seemed to already know. We are to repeat what we are told. How he knew she wasn't going to ask, but she nodded. She had a feeling that it was more of a lesson for the dragons than the riders, but she laid a hand on the blue. She knew that he had a better memory than her already, he has shown that, but here she was, hoping that this wasn't going to go horribly.

Well, what did they say? She asked Thraybaneth anxiously. She wanted to know what Jairynth said then and the blue hummed a small response to her. She sighed and shook her head, that seemed to be the best way he loved to communicate with her. Bears budge when we burden. She could tell that the blue was thinking on that when he passed it on, but his next thing was to V'orni alone. V'orni, what is a "bear"? V'orni shook her head, for she was just as confused, but at least they passed on the message, right?

S’ric had just about managed to wind it all up, nice and neat, when the tail end of it was suddenly not moving. Like a wherry pouncing on a rabbit, there was now a small red monster attached to the end of the strap that had been trailing him. Were S’ric the sort to sneer, he would have. Instead, his cool grey gaze watched the runt impassively.

There was a brief moment where it seemed like he wouldn’t do anything about what was happening. Where he’d let the little monster claw up and chew on the strap to its little heart’s content. But S’ric had been dealing with an obnoxious dragon for the better part of a turn now and his reflex response, then, was a swift, sharp kick to the dragon’s snout just as the supposed owner arrived.

Such a kick had been used to get Dakrith in line when he’d been growing up. S’ric didn’t know that the little red was still quite young, but truth be told, he didn’t give a damn either. He turned his attention to D’via, realizing she’d said something just as his foot had connected with what he guessed was her dragon.

No reason to be sorry now. He’d taken care of it.

S’ric was about to assume that was the end of the interaction when some other voice banged around his head. Female. Foreign. Alien. That kicked up S’ric’s anger like no other, and instantly – ferociously – it was mirrored in his dragon.

Had something else just invaded his mind?

Dakrith was across the weyrbowl and roaring his protest. Wings flared, he was a mass of movement. Kicking up dirt and beating his wings with enough force it would likely cause the smaller dragons to lose their footing unless their braced themselves. It had been an age since any dragon had spoken directly to S’ric – enough so that Dakrith’s memory of such an occurrence was nonexistent. He reacted as though this was a new occurrence.

Don’t you ever talk to mine unless you are invited to do so, he hissed, lips pulled back in a feral sneer that his own had been lacking. Bringing his maw close to the little green in a physical warning as his own voice, not as smooth nor ‘regal’ as Atissyth’s, filled up the little Green’s mind. Dakrith’s voice was a presence, a weight and space. Not a yell, but a heavy sound that left space for little other than what he said.

S’ric’s anger had to be reigned in quickly, as was custom, to deal with his dragon. While he frequently allowed Dakrith to impose whatever lashing he liked on other dragons, the green was just... small. He’d likely kill her and that sort of trouble wasn’t something that he wanted. Not yet.

//That’s enough,// he said, thought as cold as the Fort winters.

Dakrith reared up and took one step back. Putting him right next to S’ric. Looming over the other weyrlings as he drew himself up to his full height. S’ric, looking for all the world like his dragon’s display had been perfectly normal, said, “Perhaps you should teach your dragon some manners. It’s impolite to invade another’s mind without being invited in.”

@Jarakrisafis @Tyriani


Weyr Bowl / Event It's Just a Bit of Rain [ 29.07.2591 / 06AM ] Event
« on: January 27, 2019, 06:29:13 PM »
Riders were hardly the only people in the Weyr that started early. With the pale grey sky overhead starting to light up, turning to a faint, powdery blue, people began to leave the tunnels along the weyrbowl and head toward the beach. A light, misting rain fell - but it was warm. Almost pleasant. It'd take several hours before the mist would actually make clothes damp and uncomfortable. If anything, it helped cool down what might've otherwise been a hot and muggy morning.

As people neared the beach, crowds began to split. Some for the docks, where small boats were flipped up on the shore and the larger one was tethered to the pier. Others toward a sheltered work space where more fish would be cut up and salted, where later haulings would be cut, gutted, and prepped for the next day. Riders were landing dragonback, or walking alongside. Beach and Prairie Wing were scheduled to be present. Green and Blue riders paired up with crafters and bleary eyed candidates, helping to get nets situated and boats ready to push off into the steel grey, calm water of the ocean.

Bronze and Brown dragonpair landed in the deeper shallows, ensuring if there were snakes about their number and presence would send them slinking deeper into the ocean. It was too light, too nice a day to expect an attack. Salt water sloshed up around the dragons as they set about their morning patrol.

Another day on the beach, another morning of work starting up. Conversation started as a murmur between groups of workers or pairings of Riders amongst the shifting of boats and the occasional shouted order as the fisher's larger boat was getting ready to ship off for a day of deep sea fishing.

Spoiler for OOC:
Not every event has to be full of tragedy, right?

Bring your Candidate, your Fisher, your Beach and Prairie Rider. Time to have a nice, misty morning on the beach. As always, there is an OOC thread. <3

Weyr Bowl / Open So much for paying attention [ 16.07.2591 / 7PM ] Weyrlings
« on: January 27, 2019, 10:57:28 AM »
It was called social time, but Dakrith rarely saw the need for it, unless there were some of his brethren that wanted to play. Granted, Dakrith was big now. Not just big, but large. S'ric could still easily remember when the black dragon had been small enough for him to personally fight. Now? Well, now if Dakrith wanted to the Black dragon could easily eat S'ric. Or anyone in the Weyr, really. People would be treats.

He'd seen what the dragon could do to a herd beast, on the rare occassions they were allowed such things.

That didn't mean that S'ric was afraid of his dragon. While some might be concerned there was a giant, sometimes aggressive creature capable of violence tagging around all the time, for S'ric it was just a casual observation. They'd already been in trouble countless times for fights, for Dakrith lashing out against classmates, so it was no small wonder that when it did come time to socialize they were largely left to their own devices.

So be it. Dakrith didn't seem put out that no dragon really wanted to be around him and S'ric certainly didn't care that they weren't accosted by company. Now that dinner time was actually over, he was supposed to be looking after his gear, his room, and his dragon. No one else really mattered at that time - even if others saw this time bleed into the social marks until sleep.

Dakrith trailed after S'ric across the weyrbowl toward the Weyrling Barracks. It was starting to get really cramped in the room, but they'd get their own space soon enough. S'ric couldn't wait.

Before he bothered wandering into his room to 'clean it up', he looked over Dakrith's straps. Something that was just second nature at this point. Check the leather, look for cracks. It didn't seem to matter how much it was oiled or tended to, either his dragon was too rough on the things or this was just the nature of it all, but something always seemed to need some manner of repairs.

S'ric slid down Dakrith's side and took a moment to pull off the set of straps he'd need to see about replacing. It was a tedious task, sure, but it would keep him on his dragon in the air and it was just one of those things that needed done. Dakrith settled in place, rather out in the open, to wait for his Rider to return.

The way toward the Crafter's Caves was the opposite direction he'd been intending to go - so he simply made his way across the weyrbowl - away from the Barracks. He was in the process of gathering up the long, leather strap so he didn't really pay any attention to the fact he was literally walking through a group of younger weyrlings that were trying to oil their dragons - who were so small to him - and likely drew unwanted attention to himself.

Spoiler for OOC:

8D S'ric walking into conversations he doesn't want to be a part of. Go go go.

We'll see how brief this encounter ends up being. XD

For all that Ysveta would likely spend the next few sevendays trying to figure out how to balance her and Oskith's sleeping schedules, last night would certainly be the easiest for a while. With Oskith so tired, and her own head so overstimulated for the events of the night before, they'd walked slowly to their new room without giving so much as a glance to the rest of the new Weyrlings.

They'd fallen asleep curled up together, and had only awoken once to the pangs of hunger. At the time, neither had been able to figure out who was truly the hungry one. So they'd watched the sunrise while chewing on whatever they'd been able to get their hands on. When Ysveta woke blearily to the sounds of her room mates talking, that sunrise breakfast had seemed like days ago.

Her own stirring woke Oskith, the little blue extending his neck and tail and splaying his legs out wide in a waking stretch. Good morning. He extended to all in the room cheerily, his tone quite crisp despite his recent waking. The frosted blue cocking his head to the side slightly as if thinking. Good evening?

Ysveta sat up on her own bed and echoed Oskith's greeting to the other two candida- Weyrlings. But
 paused when she wasn't sure what else to say. You should introduce us. Oskith prompted Ysveta. They'd all started in candidacy around the same time, it would be a little strange if they didn't at least know vaguely of each other. You're introducing Ysveta and Oskith this time. It's only polite in case they forgot your name.


"This is Oskith. My name is Ysveta." Slightly stilted, slightly awkward, very Ysveta.

Announcements & Events / News MNPC Rules Update
« on: January 25, 2019, 02:44:35 PM »
Rules Update

In light of being more relaxed about matters on the forum, we've decided to make some slight alterations to how MNPCs can be made and used -- with the intent of hopefully making everyone's lives easier!

Previously, our policy on MNPCs being adoptable was thus:
MNPCs cannot be characters currently up for adoption; and, once they have been played as an MNPC, they can never be put up for adoption.

Now, we've relaxed this to accommodate the later adoption of MNPCs as actual PCs.
Characters that are currently up for adoption cannot be played as MNPCs. Current MNPCs can be put up for adoption in the MNPC Adoptables Directory, but not while they are active in a thread. They must either exit any involved thread, or the thread must be archived before they can be posted as adoptables. Please note that MNPCs cannot be transferred in their current state between players -- that is, Member A cannot play an MNPC and then pass them to Member B to play as an MNPC. These characters can only be adopted out and made into full PCs.

Previously, we also specified that only the player who made the MNPC could app them as a character in the future.
If you wish to start playing an MNPC like an official character, they will need to be apped as one. Only you—the player who started playing them as an MNPC—can app them as an official character.

Now, we have expanded this to note that an MNPC can be apped by another player, but only with the original creator's permission.
If you wish to start playing an MNPC like an official character, they will need to be apped as one. Only you—the player who started playing them as an MNPC—can app them as an official character, unless you grant express permission to another player to do so.

This has been officially updated in the Member NPC Guide. Please let us know if you have any questions! :love:

Thankfully, Zarenna didn't have to hold Atissyth back. She knew that the green wasn't about to start a fight here in the tunnels, that would be a bad idea. I know it is mine, which is why I'm not. The green did slink back from the reaction that she got from Anedaith then. Well, what did you expect. Not that amount of chaos! Zarenna sighed and she watched as D'via came to sit next to them.

She listened to D'via and she nods. "I just don't feel like getting into trouble, as I am sure you don't as well." She looked down the tunnel and she started to wonder if there was a way to tell which direction they had come from. This was now the moment she wished that she had been a Miner instead of a Healer. Because a Miner would be able to find their way out, right? She sighed and she looked back at D'via.

"What do you think, keep trying to find a way out, or call a Weyrlingmaster?" She was kind of dreading the last option, but she knew that if they didn't find their way out and instead managed to go deeper into dangerous tunnels, things could go badly. Either way, this little adventure was the reason why she hated adventures.

Zar... Zarenna felt like she just fell back to sleep, so she was slowly waking herself up right now. But the green wasn't going to wait for her to slowly wake up. ZARENNA! That did it. The girl woke with a start and looked at the green dragon. I'm sorry Atissyth. Are you hungry again? She didn't even need the answer from the green, for she could feel it through their bond. She swung her feet over the bed and looked around. She didn't see D'via in her bed, nor her red dragon. Good. Less chaos. Zarenna sighed and she shook her head.

She was about to quickly and quietly stand up when the door to their room opened. The first thing that Zarenna saw was the bright red hide of Anedaith and she could feel the disdain and disappointment seep into her mind. Relax, I am sure she is just as hungry and tired as you are. She could have sworn she heard the green snort but she ignored it. She then saw D'via walk in with a giant pale of meat. She took a look at the pale and she knew that the little red couldn't eat the entire thing on her own. Come, lets see if they will share.

Against the green's better judgement, she followed closely behind Zarenna was Zar walked over to D'via. "Yours wake you for food too?" She asked quietly. She couldn't tell if Ysveta was in bed or not, but she still was going to be quiet for the sake of not waking up an angry dragonet. Atissyth walked closer to the meat pale and she looked up at D'via, basically begging for some food at the moment. "Mind if we join you?" She motioned to the full and giant pale of meat chunks.

Spoiler for Hidden:
@Inki your turn :love:

Weyrling Barracks / Private Worthily Borne [02.07.2590, 8 PM] T'vye, T'kos
« on: January 24, 2019, 07:53:37 PM »
A handful of days had passed since Kalestath’s latest clutch spilled onto the sands, bringing violence and chaos, but also a pact. T’rel and T’vye and W’lleni along for the ride, they were determined to bring something like order to this weyr before it went too far off the rails.

It wasn’t an easy idea, not when half of your clutch mates were paired with abominations. It was especially frustrating to see them go from full on horror at the damage caused by the Reds and Blacks to being completely enamored in most cases. Worst still, there were those peculiar pairs like Dakrith and S’ric that seemed as eager to go to war with each other as much as anyone else.

He knew they needed to act quickly, gain what allies they could and establish some grounds upon which they could grow. A day or two of trying to sway Ya’lin had only left him frustrated, but he had more faith in T’kos, her roommate and the third Bronze of the entire clutch.

“Ugh,” T’rel voiced, to himself and probably T’vye in their rooms that evening. “I still can’t wrap my head around it. Three Bronzes. That’s it. We’re an endangered species.” He cast a fond glance toward Nynath who slumbered contently on his bed. The dragoncouch promised comfort for a much larger beast, but the dragonet clearly owned the space nonetheless.

The weyrling stood and stretched his arms to the ceiling, enjoying the pop and pull of muscles and joints before he turned toward T’vye. “Think I’m gonna head to Ya’lin’s room again, see if I can catch T’kos and feel him out. Wanna back me up? Bronzers gotta stick together and all.” It’d be more fair that way, even out the sides so Ya’lin and that Red roommate wouldn’t have the majority voice. Better yet, maybe they’d be gone.

“Plus he seems kinda young, he’s gonna need someone to look up to.” T’rel wasn’t exactly the best role model, he lacked some of that determination that T’vye had in spades.

Spoiler for Hidden:
@Kyya @Jarakrisafis, figure Kyya can get a response in and get them headed to T'kos's room if that works for you guys <3

Weyrling Barracks / Re: Onwards Together [30.06.2591 / 8:15pm ] Open
« on: January 24, 2019, 06:36:05 PM »
It was only when R’kan blasted the young Bronzer that Veryk realised something was going on at the nearby table, glancing away from the cards Ysveta had dealt them to give the weyrlings a quick once over. They could abandon the game and go stir the pot… but it had been quite some time since they’d had the opportunity to play Dragon Poker… and with so many people at once… It was bound to be almost as entertaining, and less likely to get them in trouble. 

“So nice to see bronze riders inherit the stick up their arse so young.” They purred instead, the words delivered with a sweet nonchalance and while intended for R’kan, able to be overheard easily enough by anyone interested to hear. Their attention had returned to their hand though, lazily shuffling the cards around until they had a good idea of what to do.

As Hisketh and R’kan had approached, Karrimuth shifted aside so that the human could take the seat, settling himself down on his haunches and offering a wordless mental touch in appreciation for the accepted invitation. Safe with the red comfortable in her rider’s lap, his tail wrapped tightly around himself and wings as close to his body as he could manage without exerting himself, Karrimuth’s attention moved onto the cards in Veryk’s hand, chin resting on the table and eyes whirling a soft, pleasant blue. Veryk was calm, Hisketh and R’kan offered protection that he could not guarantee from another weyrlingpair just yet and the potential drama unfolding off to the side was not anything he felt the need to concern himself with.

Aware of the tingling interest Karrimuth was showing, Veryk tilted their cards so the black could see better, not overly concerned as to whether R’kan and Hisketh wanted to look as well. With the dragonets joining in chances were this wouldn’t be quite as formal as the games they were usually involved in, so what point was there worrying over how easily someone could peak. They frowned for only a moment as they tried to find the bond that let Karrimuth speak to them, trying not to put too much effort into their words since it seemed to make the conversation difficult before explaining their hand.

/The five of sheaves and the Dragon’s clutch mean I have an impression. It’s not great… but it’s a start. This one and this one – / they tried to picture the Bronze Dragon that represented the Ace of hammers and the three of hammers, waiting for the prickle of understanding from Karrimuth before continuing. /– can be used with the five for a wedding if we get a two or a four… But we’re better off aiming for a Hatching or Conclave by replacing these three instead. The weyrling card is useless on its own./ they finished, a delicate finger tapping the first of the three cards they would replace. The fact the pair of fives wouldn’t stand up against many of the other pairs that could be produced was redundant. There was more to the game than just what you held in your hand.

The conversation with Karrimuth over for now, Veryk looked away from their cards, ready to replace the ones they were getting rid of but not wanting to give too much away so early on. There was as their clutchmates had briefly mentioned, the matter of betting to be decided. Ysveta had brushed over them, but the more direct questions from a pair of red weyrlings is what drew Veryk’s attention. “I’m willing to bet chores if that works… or… favours.” they suggested, rolling their voice over the implications behind the last option with a look about as flirtatious as the tone they were using, though there wasn’t quite the same heat behind it as there would be had they not had a freshly hatched dragon to worry about.

“I’ll bet one trade. Tic for tac, redeemable at your leisure, your chore for mine… to the winner of this hand.” Might as well start everyone off. Not everyone seemed to be as familiar with the game as they were, and they were bound to get something out of it until the rest picked up the gist of it.

“If you could, sweetheart, can I get some new cards? And were the harpers in play?” they asked softly, holding out the three unwanted cards and reaching slightly to minimise how far the blue weyrling needed to stretch. They were tucked quite neatly, face down between pointer and middle finger, though once Ysveta took them they’d move to pull the three new cards closer and explain the final strategy with Karrimuth… since the dragon’s interest hadn’t seemed to wane yet.

It was a double edged blade to question the wild cards, it implied they held none, but anyone familiar with the usual bluffs may be tricked into thinking they were doing that to coax a higher bet. They were not so subtle in searching the faces of the other players, for any indication that one of the Harpers were already in play. Wild cards could ruin a strong hand in a heartbeat.

Spoiler for OOC:
To make it easier… since it’s what I kept looking towards: The cards for Dragon Poker are below. And I’ve Karrimuth’d the cards Veryk has in their hand.
Sheaves: Ace, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, Holder[14], Steward[15], Lady Holder,[16] Lord Holder [17]
Hammers: Ace , 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, Baker’s[13], Student[14], Apprentice[15], Journeyman,[16] CraftMaster [17]
Dragons: Ace, 2, 3, 4, Clutch[5], 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, Weyrling[14], WingSecond[15], Weyrleader,[16] Weyrwoman [17]
Wild Cards: Harper 1, Harper 2, Harper 3

I usually play Texas Hold’em… But have interpreted this one as not… that one? So five cards in hand, and then you remove the ones you don’t want, and get dealt new cards to make up five cards again.

@SirAlahn @Inki @Bee @Jarakrisafis For your charries… I think that’s everyone. But anyone is free to jump on the bandwagon.

Redrenth stirred in his weyr. The large, bronze oaf opened a single, multifaceted eyes, which slowly turned a shade of green, and looked over to where V'len sat on a chair, rocking his child to sleep. Oriath's has clutched and the Weyr has been called to pay their respects. V'len nodded to his bonded and looked about for his mate. Seeing that she was not at home, V'len sighed and gently swaddled the babe in warm furs. He sat the child down on his bed, while he dressed for flight, and smirked as he heard Redrenth deeply cooing at the baby.

Once ready, the trip made their way to the Hatching Sands. Redrenth deposited the father and son at the grandstands and made his way to a higher ledge to watch the proceedings. V'len and the bundled baby made their way to the Weyrleaders and paid their respects. "A wonderful clutch, as always." He forwent a bow and nodded his head instead, on account for the sleeping child. "It will not be long until this little guy takes the Sands as a hopeful." He grinned as he gently bounced the baby.

There were plenty of reasons to go and pay his respects once Oriath had finished laying her clutch, but also plenty of reasons to just stay in his weyr and enjoy the solitude that it provided. While it may have been expected of weyrfolk and riders alike to offer a congratulations, the stigma  that accompanied the colour of his bonded's hide always made such traditions tedious... And with Oriath and Leremith offering the only "normal" clutch this turn, M'lan didn't even need to be present to know there would be more than a handful of people who wouldn't look too kindly on a black rider reminding them of the mutations in their midst.

T'veck had really fucked them over by stealing that spotlight. Like there weren't enough rumours about Imyth's clutch without adding a black sire to the mix. The fact that Corvath had been just as intent on catching the pale queen didn't really play into his feelings on the matter either.

At least S'bok and Neisoth's continued wins had meant their classes included bronze rider ettiquette... which unfortunately meant M'lan was swaying more towards going to the sands than not. The fact Corvath's mental touch oozed a determined confidence, and an unmistakable sense of deserving the same respect that traditionalists seemed inclined to offer only to those with bronze partners certainly helped bolster his riders own sense of worth.

If he wanted to prove that they were worthy of the same respect... than M'lan had to make an effort to show them why... Even if that meant dealing with the inevitable crowd of people that would be gathered there.

We'll watch the stars after. Corvath crooned as encouragement, though the ever present edge would have made the offer seem malicious should anyone else hear it. M'lan had gotten used to the underlying danger to his dragon's tone, however, and conceded to the not-request mentally before making his way to the sands.

He tensed as he found himself behind a pack of jungle riders, jaw clenched as he waited for the under-the-breath remarks that accompanied such a gathering. Nothing was said to set his temper off, and while he found he couldn't relax, expecting instead for every single motion to be scrutinised by the judging bastards, managed the appropriate greetings to the clutch parents and their riders, as well as the leadership already gathered before setting off int he opposite direction.

His gaze did linger on Nalata as he moved a little closer to her, the familiarity of his classmate, however highly ranked rather tempting before thinking better of it. With two out of three queens already claimed by black dragons, he didn't want anyone to think he was trying to gain Nalata's favor in the hopes of giving Corvath an unfair advantage when Minath finally had her maiden flight. So while he did acknowledge her, he found a spot far enough away that no-one could fault him and waited for an appropriate moment to slip away again, the scowl on his face discouragement enough for anyone thinking he might be trying to invite conversation.

Oriath has finished. The gold dragon's voice held no affection or even warmth at the prospect, almost dismissive of the other gold's achievement in the way the name wrapped around Nalata's mind. Still, the slightest hint of propriety offered an underlying request in the statement. Though they were still weyrlings in name, Minath and Nalata had a certain reputation that needed to be upheld, and particularly at such a late hour, there was no valid reason not to pay their respects to the older queen. Though it was a respect born of obligation rather than any affection towards Oriath, none in the weyr would be able to accuse the youngest gold and her rider of inappropriate behaviour.
"That's awfully convenient of them." Nalata mused as she finished rubbing oil into a particularly dry spot just behind Minath's forearm, using the rag to wipe off the excess oil from her hands before folding it and placing it back in the spot from which she had retrieved it. "Will you be coming as well?" she added with the faintest curve of her mouth. Minath was bristly enough with the other golds that even the thought was enough to have her rumbling with discontent, though she was more than aware of her place in the weyr and not as stupid as she may have once been to actually let one of the other golds know.

Nalata simply chuckled in response, giving the gold another firm pat before busying herself with making sure her attire was appropriate for a public appearance. There was little doubt in her mind that much of the weyrleadership would be present, as well as innterested weyrfolk, and this close to graduating she wasn't about to be an embarassment. Not only would she be representing Minath, but the future weyrleadership. Satisfied with her appearance she made her way to the sands at a brisk pace, careful not to appear rushed, but not wanting to be accused of dawdling. A quick assessment of who had already gathered implied that she had not been too delayed in her own arrival so as to be seen as rude and her posture relaxed ever so slightly at the achievement.  A clutch to be proud of. Minath offered respectfully, the warm croon to her tone a stark contrast to how she had announced Oriath’s success to Nalata.

Oriath’s bulk shielded most of the eggs, but it was clear from the murmuring as she sought to stand somewhere out of the way while still being actively present should any of the attending weyrfolk wish for her attention that it was a perfectly proportionate amount considering they were in the midst of an interval. The records indicated that Oriath always laid smaller clutches than the senior gold, but these past few turns they have been smaller again, a fact that reassured Nalata far more than Kalestath’s own larger sized clutches did, the lore behind clutch sizes enough to  counteract the excitement of a hatching whenever the larger clutches had been laid.

Spoiler for OOC:
I’m never going to get this post right so forgive the crappy. It took me two weeks to be somewhat OK with what I’ve got so far and I’m gonna post it before my nerve dies again.

Plot and Scheme / Open Plots and Things
« on: January 11, 2019, 12:04:15 PM »
Dis new year...

Another year in SWW and it didn't exactly start off how I wanted, but life is slowing down after the holidays and I'm available to start creating threads should anyone be floating around to do so. There is also a chance I have missed a reply, but I'm going to be workin' through my Tracker just to make sure in the next day or so.

I'm also gonna be updating my character apps, but that's gonna take a bit of time.

Either way, all of my characters are up for threads. ^_^ So we can kick off writing. :love:

She’d been furious when she found out. Not because she thought the decision her brother had made was a bad one, but because he’d had the gall not to tell her. Or any of their siblings! It had been as much a surprise to them as it was to her, when she’d imperiously grilled them to find out if they had known before she had. Even their father hadn’t, though he’d been a bit more good-natured about it all, amused and wanting Jo to remember to congratulate J’ken rather than simply yelling at him the next time she saw him.

Which was going to be sooner rather than later, if she had her way. She’d had enough self-control not to simply barge into the middle of the post-Hatching proceedings, knowing that she’d just be causing a scene—not to mention distracting her damnable older brother from his duties with the new weyrlings. And as angry as she was with him, Jossekayne wasn’t about to interfere with that.

See? She could be reasonable.

But as soon as enough time had passed since the Hatching itself, when Jo judged that the weyrlings would largely be asleep and her brother in the possession of a few scraps of free time, she stormed her way to the barracks. Only once she neared did she actually soften her steps, though she wasn’t able to get her expression under control. Not when she’d spent the whole afternoon and evening mad about the damn thing!

So though her eyes flashed and her features were fixed in a scowl, she padded quietly through the interior of the Weyrling Barracks to the office that she knew would be his. It even had his name painted just outside the doorway now, the previous one washed away and ‘Assistant Weyrlingmaster J’ken of Tadriath’ now written there in someone’s neat writing. It would have been so much more satisfying if he’d had a door to slam open—not that she would have felt like she could with sleeping weyrlings so close by—but such as it was, the only barrier was a piece of canvas hung from the top of the frame.

Lyrisiveth had seen fit to warn Tadriath, at least, though Jo had asked her not to inform J’ken himself, and the woman trusted her Green not to break that promise. As it was, she was still unsure if he’d actually be in the office, or if the Blue had told on her and he was off somewhere else hiding from her temper. So when Jossekayne swept the cloth door aside, she simply eyed her brother with a glare a moment as she stepped inside, letting the canvas fall back into place. And then, voice pitched low so she wasn’t yelling, but still harsh in her anger, she began with, “I can’t believe you didn’t tell us!”

For a moment, Iskelaith’s attention strayed from Quorith and his passengers. While his bond with L’ok was still secure, it was growing ever more tenuous. And between that worry, that borderline panic and the adrenaline of the situation, the Blue was simply focused on pushing back those that had chased them into the courtyard. Distantly, he was aware of other riders rushing past him, their leathers setting them apart and saving them from his red-eyed rage. But he scarcely noticed whether or not there were other Candidates with them also intent on escaping the chaos of the Hold.

At last, Quorith’s voice reached out to him again. The other Blue was already in the air, clear and away from the crowd. And as other dragons rose into the sky as well, Iskelaith knew he had to leave. He couldn’t linger—nothing in him would let him stay behind while L’ok Betweened to whatever fate awaited him at High Reaches. He would be there, whatever happened.

But without his rider conscious enough to give him an image of their Weyr—again Quorith was his savior, sharing the image that D’rak had managed to summon to mind. I’m here, he told the other Blue, to confirm he was not being lost.

Blinking Between was almost painful. Now that they were away from the site of the violence, Iskelaith’s anger was rapidly giving way to fear. When they finally emerged, he could tell that L’ok was still alive… but he was still drifting between awareness and what felt like a dream.

Don’t leave me, he begged, and shot toward the ground near the entrance to the infirmary. He spotted someone wearing Healer’s colors, as the medics rushed out to greet the returning riders. Propriety, for the moment, didn’t matter as he reached out to them: Help us!

Vassatiere wasn’t sure how she felt being between two people who were having a conversation, but it wasn’t so bad since she knew one of them and it wasn’t really a conversation if they were just exchanging a few words, was it?

Ysolth was quite content with his little game because it meant he could stay right where he was and, really, it required a fair bit of concentration, skill, and coordination. The best games of all. He didn’t feel as antisocial as his Vassatiere, but he also was near violently determined to stay with her. She was his, after all.

When Na’va made mention that someone had left, she did frown. “I think the implication is that we’re supposed to stay, and get to know... one another?” Her words were a little rough, clearly disproving of someone who had just walked out even though she certainly didn’t want to stay. She didn’t want to get in trouble even more and she certainly didn’t want to seem like a lazy person, or slacker. Neither did she think pretending was a viable option.

Which meant, well, she had to talk to them. Looking down at Ysolth on her lap, she ran a hand along his back before she said, “There’s no reason we can’t just talk to eachother.” It sounded snippy. Vassatiere certainly didn’t mean it that way, she just frequently sounded that way when her words came out quick and clipped.

It was just her way.

Counter to her supposed waspish statement, she looked at Na’va and asked, “Do you have family at the Weyr?” It was a safe question, generally. A normal one. Right? She glanced at D’via and hoped the other girl would understand the question was also posed to her.

@Jarakrisafis @Inki

Meyelthra had really debated whether or not she’d bother to show up. Gambling just for the sake of it wasn’t really her thing. It was a droll affair, really. It lacked the rush, the violence, of a wher fight. And, as far as she knew, there wasn’t going to be any wher fights at the gambling den.

Which didn’t surprise her, but it did disappoint her. X’hos had been a bit leery about leaving her there overnight since the last time she’d come home with an injured wher, but she’d just waved it off as a run fight. A locked run, so he had nothing to fret over. She always explained that she just got drunk and had a good time with her friends for the run which wasn’t always a lie. Meyelthra didn’t run off to the Hall just so she could sleep around. She was quite fulfilled in the sex department and wasn’t some thrill seeking holder wife who needed to sleep with strangers to feel better about herself.

But, she felt a certain sense of nostalgic obligation to go. People she knew would be there. It’d be like witnessing a part of her past coming to life. If nothing else, she’d grab drinks with friends then be on her way. Find a friend’s bed she could pass out on eventually until morning, when her dutiful green rider would come scoop her up and she could spend the entire day in her bed.

What a plan.

Arriving at the Gambit felt like taking a step into the past. The dark, quiet tunnel that led to the din of conversation. The steadily rising noise, the brightened glow that revealed the door. It was all so... It really was like Fort. Meyelthra might as well have never left.

She waved at the ‘doorman’ and just sauntered in. A woman like Meyelthra clearly belonged. After a quick survey of the place, she actually threw her arms up and loudly, happily shouted, “Heey! My favorite drinkin’ buddy! Kyrrin!” She actually meant it too.

Weyrling Barracks / Re: Onwards Together [30.06.2591 / 8:15pm ] Open
« on: October 11, 2018, 09:41:34 PM »
Wow, rude!

The dragon's voice was distraught, and he curled into her as she wrapped her arms protectively around him. Ki'ki clenched her fists in the effort to hold back a punch, upset that her dragon was upset, upset that her dragon was eating her upset and getting more upset, and the bad feelings fed on each other like a snake eating itself.

But. She would have to let Aellath down to start a fight, and really, she was here to make friends, right? They were playing poker. They were having a very good time right now playing dragon poker. She made a mental note, though, to challenge some of them to honorable combat at dawn, weapon: fists. She thought that, once defeated, these boys would also be pretty good friends. They just had to get the business first.

"It's okay," she told Aellath quietly, as Ysveta mercifully dealt them a hand. "Sometimes when people who think they are very important all get in one place, they have to see who is most important, and it's a very stressful time for them. What none of them know is that you are the most important."

Honestly, who let boys do anything. All of them may as well just yoink out their privates and start measuring them. She was willing to bet none of them had successfully satisfied a woman.

Aellath sniffed and propped himself up, little claws on her wrists, trying to look at the cards. She had the makings of something not-terrible here.

"Are we betting anything?" she asked, eagerly.

Weyrling Barracks / Re: Onwards Together [30.06.2591 / 8:15pm ] Open
« on: October 10, 2018, 05:11:08 PM »
The young ones are planning something. The Bronze sounded intrigued, and perhaps a little put out that he hadn’t been the one to extend a social invitation. We ought to go, make sure the unnatural things behave themselves.

Ever since Kalestath’s last clutch, the pair of them had been on a renewed edge. Sure, things had gone pretty good, but how long would that luck hold out? T’rel was sure that having some fifteen plus Red dragons running around was bound to cause chaos of some form. Not to mention the age of some of them that had Impressed. He knew not to underestimate younger weyrlings, not when T’vye and T’kos were exemplary in their own right, but they were Bronzers for a reason. They weren’t just the riffraff that every other respectable dragon had passed up.

/In a sec, my dude. Can’t be the first to show up to a party, am I right?/ T’rel tousled his own hair, still damp from his evening bath and decided on a clean but tattered shirt whose sleeves had gone missing and whose hem ran a little high so that one might glimpse his (in his opinion) spectacular abs. Paired with his riding leathers and bare feet it was any wonder his mother had ever allowed him out in public.

A short whistle summoned Stud, who was then instructed to keep a very good watch on their room. “We’re off to battle,” he told the Brown, solemnly. “Hold down the fort, but mourn for me if I don’t return. Never forget me, little bro.” He fist bumped one of the flit’s head knobs, receiving a musical and determined trill in response.

After some more hair tousling and a final glance at his room, perhaps memorizing where each and every thing was, he and Nynath waltzed down toward the commons. It was his luck to walk in just in time to hear an “Oi, fuck off” and the rest, to which his attention snapped to the one speaking and then to whom he was speaking at. He wasn’t especially surprised that T’vye had garnered such attention, but he wasn’t happy about it.

T’rel continued his slow, loping pace until he stood beside his roommate. His hands clenched and relaxed, a brief gesture that might be missed, but he hoped not. A lazy smile spread over his face but he didn’t say anything. Nynath, similarly, sauntered to where Aitorith had lain.

The room was a weird blend of emotion. At the very least, T’rel knew enough about young dragons to know that a situation like this could easily escalate and then easily confuse the new hatchlings. Even Nynath wasn’t quite old enough to be deemed safe from such a disruption. He didn’t want to add to it, but then again he’d never been one to back down from a fight.

Fighting them would be stupid, Nynath observed. We are piteously outnumbered.

Weyrling Barracks / Re: Onwards Together [30.06.2591 / 8:15pm ] Open
« on: October 10, 2018, 05:01:02 PM »
D'vik stumbled back with a start as the young bronze surged towards him, instinctively going to brandish the chair he was holding in front of him as a form of defense before Thrane stepped in front  of him. Shards and shells, a week ago he'd been fully prepared to protect himself from onrushing dragonets but he'd thought the need for that long over now. The strange voice crashed into his head with the force of an onrushing migraine, but vanished again just as quickly, leaving only a strangely tingly trace reminiscent of Anedaith bespeaking him directly. Heppath dashed out from under the chair and came skidding to a halt against his knee, flaring her wings at Theulth and hissing at the dragon twice her size.

S'ok Hep, hush, he thought to her, nudging the tiny red with his knee whie holding up his free hand in supplication and surrender to Thrane. "Sorry man. No harm intended," he said, stepping back even as Thrane turned away.

Note to self: No touchy the bronzerider.

Retreating to his spot next to D'via, happy to forget the whole incident, he leaned in with interest at the mention of poker. "Don't worry," he said quietly, knowing that she wasn't a big player. "You can team up with me, I'll show you how it's done."

Ysveta had barely gotten into explaining how the game was played (which he knew already, but he was happy for her to do the telling since it was her deck) before his ears started burning. Unsavory company? He turned, frowning, to the strange bronzerider that had so loudly condemned their entire group even as R'kan (Faranth bless his heart) swore over all their heads. Fucking shards, he needed some popcorn.

Spoiler for Hidden:
@Jarakrisafis @Phoenyx

Weyrling Barracks / Re: Onwards Together [30.06.2591 / 8:15pm ] Open
« on: October 10, 2018, 04:34:36 PM »
Dragon poker sounded great. He hadn’t played it in a while—probably not since he’d been Searched, unless he missed his guess. The decks R’kan had been familiar with before had belonged to family members or other Miners, but never to him; and during Candidacy, he’d never really known (or cared) enough about his fellow students to insert himself into their games. But now with things being what they were, trying a little harder probably wouldn’t go amiss. And with more and more of his classmates coming out of the woodwork to lend themselves to the game, it’d be as good of a time to be more social with them as any. Doubly so since they’d be engaged in an activity that he actually liked.

Hisketh too was intrigued since the intention seemed to be that they’d both get to play. That way you can’t cheat off me, she crooned to him as they neared the table and gathering weyrlings. R’kan spared her a glare, and was treated to her mental laughter for it.

He didn’t often bother trying to reach her telepathically, but this time it’d be stupid to say anything out loud. //I don’t cheat.// Assuring his dragon of that wouldn’t invite much confidence from the others. And while he really didn’t, R’kan wasn’t stupid. Opening himself up to that kind of suspicion would just add tension to a game that was meant to be relaxed.

R’kan again got the sensation that his dragon was picking through his thoughts, though her touch left something to be desired since she wasn’t yet old enough to have learned finesse. (A thought which earned him a nip to one ankle.) Maybe not. But I wouldn’t put it past you trying to pull something over on me.

All good-natured and in jest.

Neither of them had really expected anyone to snag a specific spot for them, but Hisketh purred happily when Karrimuth reached out to her, appreciative of the larger male’s apparent politeness. We’d love to, she thrummed back, and directed R’kan that direction like a mother wher herding a hatchling. How thoughtful of you. Whether it really was or not, she didn’t much care. The short amount of time they’d been living together, she’d already observed Karrimuth’s preference for his personal space. And as small as she was—and intending to sit on R’kan’s lap so she could see the table anyway—she would hardly need the extra space.

“Hey,” her rider greeted as he sat next to Veryk. “I think someone said dragon poker.” Moments before the girl with the deck—Ysveta?—confirmed that’s indeed what they were going to be playing.

Seated where they were, it was impossible to not overhear the conversation between the Bronzer in their class and the other weyrling. R’kan didn’t really know who the other one was, but his attitude caught the ex-Miner’s attention right quick. Turns ago, he might have not agreed with the kid per se, but he mightn’t have said anything against his little rant either. Now, though, with his bond to Hisketh so fresh, and his love of her so strong, he found words coming out of his mouth before he had a chance to really stop them. (Not that he would have in the first place.) They hardly needed a Bronzer to defend them, which sparked his brief, almost gleeful anger even more. “Oi, fuck off, you ugly tunnel snake. No one cares about your fucking opinion.”

R’kan judged the matter settled then—whether it rightly was or not—and turned his attention back to Ysveta as she dealt their hand. He could tell Hisketh was a mix of amused and exasperated with him, but she was quickly distracted as he let her climb into his lap, within the circle of his arms, and showed her the cards they’d been given.

Spoiler for OOC:
@Kyya for Karrimuth and T’vye :bird:

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