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Messages - R'ael

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1
Weyr Bowl / Re: It's Just a Bit of Rain [ 29.07.2591 / 06AM ] Event
« on: May 13, 2019, 06:54:53 PM »
Rain is safety, it gives me the deepest of sleeps. His tone was somber, and a little superior. Uramaeth would forever associate rain and the harsh, bitter cold with safety, because it truly had been the only time he’d been allowed to breathe in the many turns of threadfall. Mostly though, he was glad enough for the warmth of the island. It got enough rain to make up for the lack of cold. Something like pity flickered in his gut, followed by guilt. He shouldn’t mind that this younger dragon didn’t have the same associations. But flying in it is good, too. Especially if I’m flying after a green. Here his jovial self returned. Back to happier topics.

R’ael wasn’t privy to her dragon’s minor turmoil and instead was focussed on reading B’nyn’s character. Beach and Prairie mingled often enough, but she apparently needed to put some effort into it herself as she was drawing full blanks on this younger man. He didn’t offer much to the conversation but that wasn’t something uncommon when most of the weyr’s population had experienced a traumatic life. She leaned forward in her seat, scrutinizing him with a sort of vapid grin.

“I think it could be fun,” she said, again motioning to where V’len had disappeared beneath the water. “Certainly an interesting work out, we don’t often get to spear things and we’ll be drenched through by the end of the watch, so what’s a little more water?”

Uramaeth added his own two cents to Niskyleth, She doesn’t need to spear things when I can just catch them. I don’t know why she prefers the difficult method.

“Plus I’d love to bag a couple of those shelled critters. I think it’s a very practical exercise.” She wiggled herself back up, posture perfect and her arms crossed over her chest as if daring B’nyn to argue her points.

@SanctifiedSavage

2
Weyr Bowl / Re: Dancing in the Sky [ 31.07.2591; 4 AM ] || Flight
« on: May 13, 2019, 06:31:58 PM »
For all of his planning, he had not predicted this. Lyrisiveth went up and was suddenly so much further out of reach. Uramaeth tried, with all of his might, to follow her path but the space he had sacrificed meant that he, too, missed that thermal. And his wings were large, yes, but that just meant that his ascent was a clumsy one. His frustration bled red into his eyes and his polite, calm self wavered. He felt R’ael, too, quietly pissed and itching now for some kind of resolution to this situation.

He decided to wait.

R’ael’s teeth began to grind in a very unhealthy way.

The brown didn’t hover, but instead also flew wide circles beneath where the green had risen so high up, half turned on his side so he could keep an eye trained on her. He didn’t trust himself to be the coy and confident lover and so he remained quiet mentally speaking, however the half-swallowed snarls that built in his throat were anything but.

Down here, where the atmosphere was kind to such large beasts, it looked as though it was just himself and a larger bronze. That didn’t bode well, and so Uramaeth tried to gain just a few lengths on Bayorth, to hopefully put him above the bronze unless this began a game of king of the skycastle.

Feeling as though time was the greatest enemy here, he finally lipped a succinct, Come back to me, to Lyrisiveth. It wasn’t a soft suggestion, but not quite a full on demand, either.

3
Weyr Bowl / Re: Dancing in the Sky [ 31.07.2591; 4 AM ] || Flight
« on: February 10, 2019, 06:00:48 PM »
The early hour wasn’t enough to deter the flock of dragons and riders that were taking to sky and weyr. Uramaeth’s chances were never great in force catches, and with so many suitors the odds were not in his favor. Good thing he wasn’t the type of dragon to turn away from a challenge. As Lyrisiveth brushed against his mind he fed her warmth in response, and then actually abandoned any notion of continuing his usual routine of sweet-talking. He wanted full concentration on his wings and the air and the wind, and how best he might take advantage of the situation.

He didn’t want to exert himself just yet, allowing those that would to overtake him while he maintained an almost careless pace. He wanted minimal effort for this first part of the chase, gliding on the thermals that frequented the island and only flexing the sails of his wings when gravity became an issue. He did hum for her, a throaty noise that was the opposite of his mind-voice, but with distance between them it likely wouldn’t reach her ears.

R’ael didn’t direct him. His instincts had saved them both time and again, and he was an old pro at fights regardless. Flights weren’t just for his benefit, though. Being swept up into the head of a focused, flying dragon was discouraged normally. The exception, of course, was during a flight and R’ael lived for these moments as much as her Brown. Their worries faded, put on hold while this moment dominated every thought.

She gave the weyr a final glance over and then closed her eyes, settling into Uramaeth’s head like a tourist. His wings were her fingertips, and she flexed them with each downward stroke. She was annoyed that he’d chosen to fall back and she urged him, //Faster,// because though they were no Bronzepair, she at least wanted to give this a fighting chance.

He resisted, he knew these skies much better than she. Soon.

4
Weyr Bowl / Re: Dancing in the Sky [ 31.07.2591; 4 AM ] || Flight
« on: February 02, 2019, 06:50:06 PM »
What was it with some Greens and choosing to fly so early? R’ael shrugged on a loose shirt and pants, hoping they were clean but knowing they probably weren’t. She was scowling at Uramaeth as she strolled toward him, barefoot, and watched him nearly tapdance with impatience. “Calm down, you doe-eyed weyrling.”

But she rises, and she is lovely, and I want to chase. The Brown lowered his body for his rider as she used his elbow to get herself up onto his back. Straps be damned, she knew he wouldn’t wait for her to fasten them and she also knew that stumbling around in the near-dawn light, struggling to loop and latch each piece would only irritate her further. “Alright, let’s go get you a lady.”

He swung himself down from the ledge as she wrapped her legs tight against his back, her arms hugging his neck. His claws barely tapped the lip of Jossekayne’s weyr before R’ael slid free of him and he was again airborne. A little late to the party, but he was here nonetheless and his great wings could make up the space between him and his Green. We’ll rally Pern with our glory, he said, in lieu of a simple “Hello, I’m here”.

R’ael found a wall to lean against and made some effort to fix her hair. She realized her shirt was stained (definitely not clean), and her trousers were, of course, an old pair that had seen better days. Whatever. She felt herself caring less as her dragon paced further away into the clouds.

5
Weyr Bowl / Re: It's Just a Bit of Rain [ 29.07.2591 / 06AM ] Event
« on: February 02, 2019, 06:23:33 PM »
Niskyleth of B’nyn, the Brown provided to R’ael, noting the pair approaching them before his rider did. The assistance wasn’t exactly necessary, despite their age difference he was still a Brownrider. Still, R’ael ran her gloved hands down the sides of her dragon’s neck, rubbing there briefly in a silent thanks.

Mine says it’s detoxifying. Not that Uramaeth was really familiar with that term, but R’ael liked to remind him of that whenever he himself mentioned the itchiness. And while he’d always been in top shape, the recent years and exposure to the water certainly seemed to keep his joints more limber. Before he’d been allowed back to duty following the last hunter incursion, the healers had recommended some ocean bathing on safe days, too.

R’ael offered B’nyn a wave. Names aside, she didn’t know too much about the Prairie rider. “Morning!” Of course, not knowing someone had never held her back before. “We’re just making a round here. Nothing much to report, looks like we’ll have a good day.” A part of her was disappointed with that, not that she’d wish beach snakes on anyone. Some drama always seemed to speed up the day, though. Maybe they’d bump a sharpfish. Wistfully, her head turned toward the open sea as if expecting to see a fin or two among the surf.

Do you like the rain? Ever dreamy, Uramaeth canted his head to the sky, I think it’s nice, but it makes me yearn for my ledge so I might nap.

Facing front again, R’ael gave the shoreline a brief check again. Things were still progressing smoothly, a few riders were even trying their hand at spear fishing. Maybe she’d try that when she was relieved of her post. She motioned toward V’len as he dove and then asked B’nyn, “Have you ever tried that?”

6
It was clear something was wrong, but their scan of the sky revealed nothing. No spores, not even a skycourser. The water?

The both of them looked toward the shore which was amassing chaos by the second. “Something’s in the water, I think,” she voiced out loud, nearly shouting so she could respond to Z’nel over the din. She made a few decisive motions with her hands, shooing the last of the kids toward safety while Uramaeth kneeled so that R’ael could climb back into her straps. “We’re going to get a closer look.”

Maybe there is a large fish?

//Maybe.// R’ael was fairly certain it was more serious than that, but a part of her held onto hope that their lives could hold on to that easiness that the island had first suggested for a little longer.

The Brown tucked his wings against his body and otherwise tried to make himself as small and out-of-the-way as possible as he walked them quickly to the shore’s edge. From her vantage point, R’ael really couldn’t decipher much more of the situation. She continued to direct people back to the weyr, but it seemed like most of them already had that in mind.

//Here,// she directed, stilling her Brown some feet from where a brave few riders and fishers had gathered, looking perplexed and afraid. “What’s happened here?”

7
Weyr Bowl / Re: It's Just a Bit of Rain [ 29.07.2591 / 06AM ] Event
« on: January 29, 2019, 04:14:39 PM »
R’ael, carried by Uramaeth, settled into the straps of her riding gear as they made a well practiced landing. The Brown’s claws sifted through the sand beneath them, stirring silt and seaweed and temporarily marring the otherwise aqua-blue of the water. Crustaceans and small fishes fled before him, seeking better hiding places. This was their post for now, assuming the morning began normal. Uramaeth would lock his legs but let his wings stretch now and then to alert local wildlife that there was still a very large object in the water. The idea was to disrupt the water itself as little as possible, so that it’d remain clear and visibility stayed high. The great shadow of his wings provided further defense, for it made his entire shape that much more intimidating.

The weather was refreshing but R’ael found herself tempted to strip off a top layer or two so that they might be preserved from the fine mist. Experience told her that it would be a futile gesture regardless, not to mention how stupid it’d be to give up the stiff protection of her leathers. It might not be beach snake weather but dear Rukbat would certainly make an appearance at some point during the day, and she really couldn’t afford another sunburn.

The beach was busy and it was tempting to watch the weyrfolk gather and break off to their respective tasks. T’veck was easy to spot, their fearless new weyrsecond. It seemed to be a habit of those riders, to claim queens when they hadn’t even graduated weyrlinghood yet. R’ael had to respect the cunning ferocity of their dragons, despite how much she hoped that X’kis and Maelboroth might’ve defied all odds and hung on to Imyth a little longer. But who knew, maybe the drive of the Black dragon would shape Imyth into a more respectable creature herself.

Or maybe it’d just make her more reckless.

R’ael sighed, stretched her arms up, and figured that way enough daydreaming for now. //Let’s take a walk, hm?//

Uramaeth rumbled his agreement and broke from that statuesque pose. His thick legs waded through the deep water and his tail lashed about, stirring the waters and causing more small creatures to evacuate the area. He moved with a sweeping motion that, they hoped, would herd some of the tasty critters closer to the shore where the tidal nets could trap and gather them. It wasn’t as exciting as going toe-to-toe with a sharpfish or using the Brown’s brute strength to haul in a heavy cache of fish, but they were still contributing and that made them both happy.

Spoiler for Hidden:
Ehhh fairly uninvolved post. If any fishers or folk need Uramaeth to move stuff around or if any other perimeter guards wanna strike up a convo go for it!

8
Beach Wing was a station that she did not resent one bit. The island was a welcome change from the cold landscape at Fort and the coast offered everything that her old home had not. The sands were sprawling, lovely and warm, and the ocean stretched for as far as she could see. Nothing felt confining here, and everything seemed possible.

The morning was beautiful. Uramaeth hadn’t been so cheerful in a long time and his focus shifted readily from task to task. While grounded, he fanned his wings out as much as possible so that he might also soak up the sun’s shine while dragging nets. His wings also offered a brief reprieve to those more sun-sensitive, and he was amused to find a few children dashing around his shadow presently. He minced his steps, mindful of them as he backed up along the beach with his net in tow.

Truly, this place was paradise. It felt too good to be true, after all they’d gone through.

Enjoy it, the Brown’s commentary broke R’ael’s thoughts. The work is physical and long but this environment.. I don’t think I ever knew real plants. These untamed spoils, nothing artificially farmed or coaxed into existence. He lifted his head and inhaled deeply, treasuring the scent of life.

R’ael smirked at his words. He’d certainly learned to say pretty things over the years, probably the result of too many chases. She didn’t deign to respond but flicked some fish scales his way. They landed short, but he got the message.

This had become their routine in the short time they’ve been at the island. And so it would have continued, had an abrupt turn of events not unraveled so quickly.

R’ael only saw a brief flurry of activity- water and sand and nothing else. Those closer reacted with panic and so she turned to Uramaeth to see if he’d seen what happened.

No, I don’t know. He crouched on the sand and a few children hugged close to his sides. R’ael left her post but kept a grip on her descaling knife. “Head back to the weyr,” she shouted toward them, figuring getting them out of the way might at least ease the process of figuring out what was going on.

More people were shouting and it seemed that their general intention was to get away from the water. R’ael shook her head and looked up, scanning the skies. There were some clouds but nothing ominous there, what was the issue?

9
IC Closed Threads / Re: They Do Move in Herds [ 14.02.2591 / 06AM ]
« on: June 25, 2018, 10:24:42 AM »
Uramaeth was not an angry beast, nor bloodthirsty. He didn’t know vengeance, but he did have a keen desire to survive. Something within him pushed him to bite down, into the flesh of the hunter, and then do it again and again while he had the advantage. There was still much they had to learn about hunters, but Uramaeth knew this much- one less meant everything.

He withstood the flailing attempts to dislodge him, they were nothing when his mind was already reeling with adrenaline from the chunk missing from his neck. Pain would come later, but they had to survive this first. It was a sobering moment for both him and R’ael. They had entered the fray with every intention to help the smaller dragons but instead found themselves the victim. She knew through her bond with Uramaeth that the Bronze dragons were only slightly better off, as long as they were in a fair one on one fight that is.

Uramaeth’s attacks persisted until the hunter either crumpled from the damage or did indeed manage to get away. Hopefully, if the latter became its fate, it wouldn’t get too far anyway before its wounds caught up with it.

Did hunters care for their own? Would this one be fed and tended to until it healed?

R’ael spit on the ground, not surprised to see a little blood intermingled there. The sight of it didn’t make her reel but it did make her take inventory of herself. A few scratches, mostly bruises, and she knew the source of the blood was from biting her own tongue. She didn’t dare to look at Uramaeth’s wound, she knew better than that.

//We need to fall back to the minehall, we can’t risk flying until the all clear is given.//

She looked everywhere but to her dragon, but the mist continued to obscure most of the battlefield. Uramaeth ended his tango with the hunter and obeyed, his great body moving with care. He didn’t want to step on anything, anyone, nor did he want to find himself walking into a hunter’s open mouth. The Blue they had tried to defend was nowhere to be seen and R’ael refused to let that thought hinder them. She knew other pairs were still fighting, still needed help, and as long as the both of them could stand they would be there to provide aid.

Spoiler for Hidden:
number 2! If anyone wants to see them and have them join their fight, go ahead!

10
Rider Weyrs / Re: Airborne [ 20.10.2590 || 3 AM ]
« on: June 24, 2018, 06:27:40 PM »
The Brown’s big wings weren’t going to work in his favor tonight. The large sails weren’t as aerodynamic as some and with the wind so vicious, it was a struggle for him to even keep in a straight line let alone follow whatever path Ariyath set. In good skies he was a beast of stamina, but fighting so hard against the winter gusts meant even his greatest strength wasn’t going to be of much help. Whether these thoughts passed through his mind, it didn’t deter him in the slightest. The chase was more thrilling and if the flight was to be difficult, that just upped the ante.

The gust that caused Ariyath to swerve to the right had a greater effect on Uramaeth. He faltered, midair, and tried to pull his wings in to regain control. His momentum and body dropped some feet down before the air felt safe enough for his sails to again unfurl. The Green was already high above and his shoulders already ached with the effort. Somewhere, like a distant itch, he felt R’ael scoff. She’d surely be in a sour mood if his pulling her out of their warm bed proved to be such a fruitless venture.

He’d try harder.

Unconcerned with what Ariyath thought she needed, and mindless to how his competitors might have already gained an advantage, Uramaeth continued his pursuit in the only way he knew how. Tradition sang to him as clearly as any female in flight and his tradition dictated that he continue his sing-song serenade. You are a Queen of the night, your siren’s call spells me forward even as Pern tries to tear us apart, there was no strain to his voice, nothing to suggest his physical struggle.

Within the weyr, R’ael was indeed becoming an impatient onlooker. She clutched the furs with whitening knuckles and her eyes passed between the reality in front of her and the vision of the dragons, out there somewhere in the skies. This was the part of flights that she least enjoyed. The waiting, the eerie environment of a room full of people all with the same, lost and lusty expressions. She supposed she could find someone in here to pair with but she didn’t want to show her doubts in Uramaeth’s attempt.

11
IC Closed Threads / Re: They Do Move in Herds [ 14.02.2591 / 06AM ]
« on: February 23, 2018, 07:29:30 PM »
R’ael had spent, what, some 30 turns now bonded with Uramaeth? They had fought and survived thread together, both of them coming out of the pass unscathed physically. R’ael knew sore muscles and fatigue, how her shoulders ached when Uramaeth’s wings could no longer withstand flight. She knew the thrill of adrenaline, how flaming thread felt because even as her Brown breathed fire, the sensation ebbed in her own gut and throat. She knew flight lust and the freedom of just being that came with a successful flight. All of these things she had felt alongside her Brown, but together they had never truly known pain.

Initially, when the hunter bit into his shoulder it felt like a flash of flame and then numbness. Perhaps, had the contact remained, the pain would have remained minimal. R’ael saw stars when the hunter recoiled, taking a bit of Uramaeth with it. The ichor poured hot down his hide, gravity bringing it to the rider and she shut her eyes to block the sight. The Brown persevered even as R’ael faltered. He knew the quicker this was done the quicker she could recover. Even injured, her safety and wellness were his priority.

Uramaeth did not have size advantage here. He felt clumsy on the ground but knew there was no way to safely disengage into the air. His wings weren’t entirely useless, though. They were something he could use that the hunter did not have an answer for, beyond tooth and claw. With the beast still before him and R’ael still safely tucked on his back, the Brown unfurled his great wings with the intention of swatting or otherwise distracting the hunter, maybe even sacrificing them so that he could land a more vital bite. In the same motion, he bridged the gap that had opened with the hunter’s initial recoil and swung one foreleg out, aiming to knock into and rip at the hunter’s already injured shoulder. His jaws opened and then fastened onto the hunter’s opposite side, though this time he hoped his aim was a little more true and his bite a little more lethal.

Spoiler for Hidden:
number 17!

12
IC Closed Threads / Re: They Do Move in Herds [ 14.02.2591 / 06AM ]
« on: February 15, 2018, 06:08:13 PM »
It was hard to listen to any spoken, or shouted word. Again and again the cries of dragonkin cut through the fog. R’ael was entirely reliant on Uramaeth’s ability to receive and relay information. She learned through him that the Blue wasn’t sure he could fly, one of his wings was at an odd angle and, at best, sprained. There was too much movement, too many bodies large and small to safely between. She thought their best bet was to just get as close to the mine hall entrance as possible.

It was eerie, in those few moments. The fog made R’ael feel isolated, like they were on another plane and could hear everything, but not see. She did not like it, but they didn’t have a choice.

I think there’s- Uramaeth couldn’t finish the warning, the hunters were already on them. R’ael watched with helpless horror as the Blue was snatched away from her Brown’s protective wing. She hoped he could hold out, they could still save him and his rider.

The hunter directly before them was a problem. R’ael herself could do little more than keep an eye on the surroundings. She was safest here, on Uramaeth’s back, and knew if she unseated herself that she’d be an easy target. Still, she gripped her dagger for all that it was worth and if a tail or leg happened her way, she’d certainly lash at it.

This was Uramaeth’s fight, and also the first time that he had been so close and personal with a hunter. This wasn’t a beach snake whose range only extended so far. He couldn’t just fly a little higher. Instinct told him to keep his belly low and to tuck his chin to protect his neck. His wings knit close to his body, turned in such a fashion that they might protect R’ael a little more than usual. The hunter swung at him, and Uramaeth ducked under it and then came up with force, issuing a great growl even as he tried to bite into the chest and neck of the offender.

Uramaeth was certainly aiming to maim, but there wasn’t enough time for him to follow through with a kill. He was wholly expecting a retreat, that was fine, because the real goal was to get to the Blue before it was too late.

Spoiler for Hidden:
I always forget how much control I can have over the big bads, so I’ll leave this pretty open for now!

ALSO FORGOT MY NUMBER so 11!

13
IC Closed Threads / Re: They Do Move in Herds [ 14.02.2591 / 06AM ]
« on: February 12, 2018, 05:42:31 PM »
On the beach, the morning was dawning with some promise. There was cloud cover but it was shifting often enough to allow shafts of sunlight to filter through. The jungle’s fog didn’t reach these waters. Beach Wing was prepping for the day’s haul. Fishermen and dragonmen alike were unfurling the great nets and baiting expansive lines. A few deep sea pots were filled with leftover kitchen scraps to entice crustaceans into their clutches. The pots didn’t get much use, but when the season was right it was worth having a dragon haul it out and leave it for the day. Uramaeth had been picked for such a task and he was gingerly mincing around the thick rope and attached buoy. These things were relics of the fishercraft and he didn’t want to be responsible for ruining such a prize.

//Ease up, bud. With Southern Hope sailing I heard they’re beginning to produce new cages. These will get scrapped soon enough.// R’ael’s advice fell to deaf ears. The day that Uramaeth trampled anything worthwhile and precious was the day he’d between out of shame. Okay, maybe not really, but he’d certainly sulk in his weyr for days.

The Brown’s careful movements came to a standstill when he, along with the rest of Beach, were alerted to the attack. Hunters, he said, accompanied with a very raspy hiss that had the hair at the nape of R’ael's neck standing on edge. Their commands were predictable and the rider vaulted onto Uramaeth’s back in anticipation. The Brown pushed himself unceremoniously up in flight, away from the sand, expertly parted himself from the pot, and waited tense for that brief moment before the wingleader gave the signal.

For R’ael, the emotion of the moment was reminiscent of threadfall. She only wished the hunter attacks were as predictable, as mathematical. She hated going into a situation blind, but she didn’t have long to think about it. Between was brief but it shocked awareness into her. //Here we go,// she relayed with a grim satisfaction.

She was expecting a blood-strewn scene (and, indeed, had prepared her nerves for it). The fog coiling around the treeline, engulfing the manmade structures and obscuring any obvious movement threw her off. Uramaeth took over. His keen eyes could see the shadows of beasts, friend and foe, below. His superior hearing helped zero in on a dragon in need. We’re diving. Two hunters, small, trying a Blue. R’ael unclasped her knife from her belt, though it felt terribly feeble in the face of hunter claws and jaws.

Proximity cleared the scene and the arrival of the Brown turned the tide in favor of dragon, at least for the moment. The hunters released their hold on the Blue and retreated out of sight. The Blue would survive, it seemed, though his tail looked tattered and one of his legs was badly scored. Uramaeth kept pace with the pair, acting escort, but their movement was slowed by the Blue’s injuries.

Spoiler for Hidden:
Figured it was okay to post before actual orders, if I need to change anything let me know <3

Andddd #17

14
Rider Weyrs / Re: Airborne [ 20.10.2590 || 3 AM ]
« on: December 06, 2017, 06:50:18 PM »
R'ael and Uramaeth were sleeping up until a Green's call stirred the Brown. R'ael, nestled against one of his legs, was delicately maneuvered around so that Uramaeth could safely stand without crushing her. Ray, Ariyath rises. His voice was gentle but urgent, in its way, and the power behind it was enough to bring the woman to. Her grumbled response gave some kind of consent and, as if sleepwalking, she pulled herself astride her Brown so that he could bring her to Callista's weyr.

It was cold in the open air and she was suddenly quite aware that her night clothes weren't the best defense against the winds that whipped them both. Uramaeth was quick, at least, as he touched down for a breath that allowed her to slip down to the ledge. At least the brisk weather had her more awake. She shuffled into the weyr and snuck toward the bed so she could grab a bed fur and wrap it around herself. There, that was cozy.

Uramaeth had vague notions of who Ariyath was and, also, who her usual mates were. He didn't mind the competition. Every Green was worth chasing, even when the weather was so foul. The wind is trying to outshine you, he told her, drawing whatever warmth he had into his words, but you are too swift. It screams its jealousy and I will fight it for you.

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