Living Caverns
The rough-hewn majesty of this cavern far outpaces any delight in the multitudes of curves that form its enclosure. The glabrous grey granite is shot through with translucent obsidian, lending subtly-veined sparkle to the walls and the foot-trodden smoothness of the floor that shows centuries-old placements of the scarred trestle tables; carven hollows give homes for the glow baskets and the coat-pegs that line the walls. No mosaics, no painting, no tiles: just a few well-done tapestries mark the pathway that lead to the kitchen to the north and the inner caverns to the west, and frame the nighthearth's stew and snacks, while a heavier strip of oiled canvas shields the unwary from the wind in the bowl.
Scattered about in various perches and niches are fifty firelizards.
You see OOC NOTICE (look sign), White Clay Egg Pot, Thief, and Slink here.
Obvious exits:
Bowl     Kitchens     Inner Caverns     Crafting Area

Sinead arrives from deeper in the Weyr.

Lis slumps over a table, enjoying the embrace of the worn wood-grain pattern, with her empty mug canted to one side in fingers' anaemic grasp. All in all, a rather pathetic sight.

Sinead wanders in from deeper in the Weyr, yawning all the while. Seeing Lis she nods and smiles while moving over to the table holding klah, a mug is grabbed and immediatley filled. "Morning."
 
Lis makes some kind of mumble that could be interpreted as 'Morning', or just as easily as 'Go away' or 'Where am I'. An arm coils protectively around her face, shutting out the light of glows and any sunlight that may have come up between oblivion and now.

Sinead eyes Lis momentarily before asking, "You want anything?" She is one of the beloved candies after all, and it's her duty to do the bidding of the riders.

"No." It's an actual, coherent word, though it's forced through a parched throat and thus cracks. Lis curls up tighter, if that's possible with her bulging belly.

Sinead nods slightly before taking a seat. "Alright, but if there's anything I can get, just let me know," nodnod. Isn't this candie far too nice to the riders, not that that's a problem.

Lis just isn't nice in return, and she's not exactly in the mood to care about it - one of those big-shiny-knot-arrogance deals. "Hrmf," comes her reply, one bloodshot eye cracked open just to see who she's been talking to.

Sinead simply shrugs off Lis' reply, it's something a resident becomes accustomed to. "How are you Lis?" She enquires, not really expecting a response, but she might as well be nice and ask anyway.

"I wish I was dead," comes Lis' whimsically adolescent response, her brow sliding heavily over eyes that are all but shut against light, cheer, and all things good.

Sinead peers. "Why is that?" She asks as she sips at her klah. "If you where dead you wouldn't get the privledge of torturing all the lovely candies, like me," she offers to the rider.

Lis rolls her head to one side, so at least she isn't breathing the warm, recycled air that slumping her head on the table has forced her to. "If I was /dead/," the rider explains, "it would be nice and quiet. No babies, no candidates, no /lifemates/ to deal with. Nothing."

Sinead shakes her head slightly. "It can't be all that bad, we'd all miss you and Alymath," the girl nods her head slightly. "So, there."

Lis' snort suggests she's far from cheered - as does the sarcastic reply that follows it. "Oh, my. I'd be /missed/. Allow me a minute to get up, for I'm going to change my evil ways." Don't hold your breath.

Sinead shakes her head slightly. "But you would be missed," nodnod. "I know of people who would miss you," another nod follows this statement. Lis' sarcasm goes unnoticed by this particular candie.

It's probably the best defense against it, for Lis' interest is piqued by Sinead's allusion to a list of people who care about her (oh, she knows a few, but it's easily forgotten in the void of self-pity). "Who?"

Sinead shakes her head slightly. "A lot of people, now the Weyr just wouldn't be the same without you around," she offers to the rider. "And that's an awful lot of people," a whole Weyr full.

Lis isn't satisfied with that answer, and it shows in the grimace that mars any trace of bedraggled beauty. "Oh, yes it would. You'd be minus one greenrider, D'renn would be minus one weyrmate.... and he's already lost one. Mm. Wonder if that's really fair to do to him again. Oh, leave off, you!" That would be Alymath, not Sinead, who's managed to get half her head in the doorway and scare away the drudges.

Sinead shakes her head and huffs. "So, you're a very important greerider," nod. "And that's all there is to it, and D'renn would miss you, and we wouldn't let you," and and and, that seems to be what Eady likes to do right now.

Lis cracks one eye open again to peer at the mess of a knot on her shoulder, one that gives her some kind of rank. "Oh, I /suppose/," she admits with a gusty sigh. "But I don't have to like it." Alymath whimpers from the doorway, rubbing her cheeks raw on the stone. Some silent command from Lis, however, and she slinks away to sit outside the entrance and sigh moodily.

Sinead shakes her head, yet again. "Oh, come on, smile or something," she offers, far too cheery for a candie. "You're very much loved around here, so," we'll leave out the 'haa' there, just cause Ead's a nice little candie.

Lis will only be smiling after Alymath's gotten her flight out of her system - and maybe not even then, depending upon who catches. "I'm sure," the rider replies tartly, looking forlornly at her empty mug.

Sinead shrugs slightly, certain this phase will pass. "Do you want some more?" She enquires, noticing her look at the mug. "Anyway, it's true," she answers of the 'I'm sure.'

"Sure," Lis replies apathetically, sending her mug skittering across the table to Sinead. Nothing in it that you couldn't serve to a gaggle of weyrbrats - just the usual healthy juice. Another snort, after Sinead's answer.

Driftwood flicks his wings a little and gives an enquiring chirrup at the commotion below, then settles back into napping on his perch.

Sinead nods and picks up the mug, taking it over to the table and refilling it, bringing the pitcher over to the riders table as well. The former guard sets both the mug and the pitcher down on the table. "Well, it's true."

"Oh, shut up you," Lis croaks cantankerously, pointing a wobbly finger at Driftwood. No one chirrups on her watch. "Thanks," mutters the greenrider, taking a long sip from her mug as it returns, refilled.

T'am sweeps in from the Central Bowl.

T'am
Dark brown hair curls (and all too often tangles) as it tumbles about this young man's head. A few stray loops wander down across forehead and 'brows, barely brushing the lashes that frame his brown-flecked green eyes. The rest of his oval face is composed of an average nose, and a frequently grinning mouth. Bridge of nose and cheeks are dusted lightly with freckles. His frame is lean and wiry, filled out across shoulders and chest, muscles toned first from time spent as a miner, and now from life as a dragon rider. His skin is fair, though freckled here and there, and now again darkened red or brown by wind and sun. The only lines to mar it are a thin childhood scar on his left arm and whatever scrapes and bruises recent events have given him.
Covering T'am's torso is a forest green tunic, though much of it is hiden by what is worn on top: a dark, rich brown earthy colored vest made up almost entirely of pockets. A pair of black trousers (a bit too long), neatly belted at the waist, fall down over the tops of his sturdy wherhide boots, their ends frayed.
T'am wears a double corded blue and black knot, a single bronze thread woven into it to indicate the color of his lifemate, in a single loop on his shoulder, showing that he's a Wingrider at High Reaches Weyr. Just beneath the knot is a small pin, the emblem of High Reaches accented by licking flames, indicating he is an Inferno rider.
He is awake and looks alert.
T'am is 18 Turns and 4 days old.
T'am has no apparent threadscoring.

Alymath> Farleth rumbles contentedly once his passenger has dismounted and turns his great whirling orbs on...something shiny and glowy. Ooo.

Alymath> Alymath narrows her eyes at Farleth like he was the serpent from that old, old creation myth. Already yellow-marbled eyes begin to whirl red, flickering like flame; dangerous, and better not get too close.

T'am stumbles half-awake into the caverns, searching, searching for the klah that will pry his tired eyes awake. "'Morning." is mumbled in passing at those few clusters of people awake at this hour.

Lis barely counts as someone awake, registering somewhere in the limbo of 'wishing to be unconcious'. With her eyes shut against the undominable sunrise, she waits until the flap of the caverns has closed most of it out before looking to see who entered. "T'am." It's not a greeting - it's an accusation.

Alymath> Farleth tilts his tobacco-stained head to the side as he ponders the odd behavior of the usually polite Alymath. And she's so /lovely/ today too...the contrast does not sit well with him. Keeping a respectful distance, he croons a soft enquiry. Wouldn't she like to sun next to him? He is large and nice to snuggle with.

Sinead looks up and waves. "Morning T'am," she greets of the bronzer. "How are you? How's Farleth?" She enquires. "Lis needs to be cheered up."

Alymath> Alymath hunches her shoulders up, wings folded tight against her sides: the draconic equivalent of a bristling feline or a canine's raised hackles. A warning growl is her response, quite out of character, but quite /in/ character with the hormonal glow.

Fyria arrives from deeper in the Weyr.

Alymath thinks to you, << I bespoke Farleth with: Alymath is an urchin; a porcupine; a pincushion with all the pins facing the wrong way. Smoke whispers half-words of madmen's mutterings, throbbing with a primordial glow. Prrrroddy. >>

T'am fumbles with a mug until, in short order, he's managed to fill it almost full /and/ create a nice puddle on the cavern floor. "Mph." Squinting sourly at it the young rider reveals surprise at his poor aim. A few sleepwalking steps and he arrives next to Lis and Sinead. "What? What was that?" He heard his name he did. "Lis. g'morn. Ead. Mrph. Fine, fine." Oh, let him swallow some klah already!

Fyria sashays herself in from within the caverns, that ever-present smile on her lips.  "Morning, morning" is given to the others as she heads over towards the klahpot, pouring a generous mug for herself before turning to lean casually against the table.  "Lis, T'am, Ead."  Nod nod nod.  One brow lifts at the klah-puddle, courtesy of T'am, followed by a wink at a staring drudge as he passes.  "Neh neh, luv...I'm taken, sorry."  Grin.

"I don't /need/ cheering up. Aren't people allowed to be miserable every once and a while?" Lis wonders, sitting up to draw her legs up onto the chair with her and failing, since her belly's gotten too big to do so. Fyria is glared at, for no reason other than her cheerfulness when /she/ has got a black mood festering around her.

Alymath senses Farleth throbs with the heat of the early morning sun, cresting on the east, surrounding, pulsating barely restrained reds and golds. A whisper of silver- patience -wends throughout.

Sinead shakes her head. "No, Lis, people may not be miserable," at least not while she's there. "Hullo Fyria dear!" She greets of her fellow candie, making a swift motion, which can be construed as an invite to have a seat. "T'am, you really must be more careful," oh, dear, far to cheerful for a candie and for this early.

Alymath thinks to you, << I bespoke Farleth with: Alymath shivers nervously, bucking against any form of patience with swirls of comets which melt into dragon shapes: she leading, them following. Never to be caught! Nevernever. >>

T'am grumbles something unintelligable and falls into a nearby seat, unsettling some more of the already sloshing klah. Frowning at the small puddle on the the table with interest, he finally registers the earlier remarks. "Why so down, Lis? Have a Turnday?" In his opinion, that nearly always puts people in a foul disposition. "Mmm..Fy. Morning." Not so much a greeting as a statement of the hour.

Fyria gives the drudge another wink, totally ignoring Lis' dark glare, then turns to head over to a seat near Ead. Yes, she is cheery.  Celibacy seems to be holding well with her, eh? *cough* "Turnday?"  She reaches over and slides another chair towards the greenrider, for her to rest her feet upon if she chooses.

Lis slumps down in her seat, looking like Buddha's younger, depressive sister, between her midsection and her disposition. "No, thank Faranth," she replies to T'am. "All I need to remind myself is that I'm getting older, and then there's all those silly traditions." Fyria's effort is appreciated with a grunt of thanks, and she plops her feet into the chair, melting further towards horizontality.

Alymath senses Farleth observes the etheral dragon shapes with interest. Taking and building upon the image he flickers one of them, a burnished bronze now, to the fore. A playful twist, backed by confidence in his abilities above ground.
Sinead shakes her head slightly towards T'am and Lis. "You two are downers," she states with a grin. "Did you have a turnday T'am? Is that why you're such a downer?" She enquires a sshe sips at her klah.

Alymath thinks to you, << I bespoke Farleth with: Alymath is the pheonix, the sirens, the walrus. (Goo goo gajoob.) The green fairy of absinthinan hallucinations, always just out of reach no matter how far into the air you stretch. >>

T'am remembers, finally, what the klah is for. After a long noisy slurp he blinks a few more times, settling into the idea of waking up. "What traditions?" The question comes out almost simultaneous with Fyria's, resulting in a swivel of his head away from the greenrider to the candidate, "Good guess." Sulk.

"What do you want?" Lis demands of Sinead. "It's barely after sunrise, and I've been up far too long before that." All night would pretty much some it up. "T'am...." she coos suddenly, a smile looking out of place on her otherwise sullen face, "you didn't tell me you had a /Turnday/. Hold still." Slowly, achingly, the greenrider gets out of her chair and floats - like the Angel of Death - over towards the bronzerider.

"Turnday?" Fy raises one eyebrow again - been doing that a lot lately - then simply grins over at the bronzerider.  "Well, happy Turnday then, T'am."  Mug is raised, then a slow, sultry smile comes over her lips as Lis glides over towards him.  "And, I think you're about to get a belated gift."  Wicked smile.

Alymath senses Farleth sends forth a rhythmic beat of golden, ruby, and interweaving emerald hues, dancing in persistant chase of the pale fairy. Perserverance, constance...

Sinead looks up and nods. "Well, happy turnday T'am," she offers to the rider as she chuckles, watching Lis make her way over there. "We should summon the Weyr down for this," she states, meaning for the whole Weyr to give T'am a turnday gift.

Alymath thinks to you, << I bespoke Farleth with: Alymath disappears in a puff of smoke, her interest in the bronze burning down to a mere cinder on the tip of a slowly smouldering incense stick. Patchouli scent lingers, but nothing burns inside her. Yet. >>

Green eyes, previously squinting and blinking, open wide at the sudden (well, maybe not really /sudden/ movement of Lis). "What?" The question is startled out of him as his sleepy mind raises ahead trying to imagine what tradition this would be. Sinead and Fyria, for all their kind greetings, get an unwarranted glare. [T'am]

Lis turns to the gathered weyrfolk like a journeyman addressing her class, taking on professorial tones. "Now, this I learned from my weyrmate, back when I was still a weyrling." Hopefully none of them remember any D'renn d'epravity. "Every time someone has a Turnday, everyone's supposed to give them kisses. No if's, and's, or but's." And with that, she leans in, giving T'am a few precious seconds to decide whether to duck, or present lips or cheek.

"A wonderful tradition, indeed Lis."  Fyria still smirks quietly from behind her mug, eyes gleaming wickedly.  Catching T'am's glare, she lifts her head and simply blows a kiss at him.  "Careful T'am, or you might get two presents."  The second from the Queen She-Demon herself.  Be warned.

Sinead chuckles as she watches Lis. "This is what you get for publically announcing your turnday," she states to the bronzer. "Maybe you'll help cheer Lis up," she states with a devilish smirk sitting on her face.

For all the racing of his mind, T'am doesn't really hear the words that are being spoken. And so, in a foolish move that wastes the few seconds granted him, he swivels his head to look at Lis straight on. "Wh...?" Hey, it's almost like he puckered up for it.

Foolish T'am. Lis gives the living caverns a show to scandalize most visitors down to their toes, and even raise an eyebrow or two on these jaded rider sorts. Luckily, her weyrmate's ego is such that he won't come hunting down poor T'am. Hopefully. After delivering her smacking kiss, she fairly skips back to her seat with a flap of her hand. "Now the rest of you. Chop chop!" Tradition demands.

Alymath> Farleth shifts his mass into a more comfortable position and slowly blinks one great orb at Alymath, though the whirling in it is slowing from the quick pace that had previously posessed it.

Alymath> Alymath gives Farleth much the same regard as she would a rock, too busy trying to look into the living caverns and drag her rider outside. She can blow the flap aside and stick one eye in, or roll out her ichor-green length of tongue, but only half her forepaw will fit inside. No one really wanted to get into the caverns, did they?

And Fyria -always- follows tradition, you know.  Mug is deposited on the table as she slowly slinks over to the bronzer with a rather feline-ish stalk to her movements.  "Don't say I didn't warn you."  Predatory gaze is her only warning before leaning over and subjecting T'am to a lovely little kiss...wherever he'd like it.

Various parts of Alymath appear in the doorway: eye, tongue, foreclaws. But Lis pays them no mind - why should anyone else?

Sinead chuckles as she watches. "T'am, you need to be careful when you're turndays near," she states. "Go Lis," she exclaims as she watches the faces of various other people in the living caverns, though they should all know of tradition. This well behaved candie sits, watching, debating whether she should follow tradition or not.

Isis scolds her humanpet from her perch. Not Driftwood's humanpet!! He's such a cad! (Driftwood, not his humanpet)

Alymath senses Farleth lets mind reach forth then open up with the sudden smooth motion of a rose, of an unusual color. Emerald, absinthe, malachite, pale seafoam, all the sparkling hues of loveliness. And a hint of wistfulness, for Alymath wishing to leave his company now.

T'am can only do what would be expected when suddenly kissed by two lovely women in the middle of the living cavern...blink stupidly. As soon as the last of them as retreated he slowly, timidly, brings up a hand and touches his lips. "Thanks?" He's not sure what he should say, really, but a quick bit of thinking and he's decided this is one Turnday tradition he doesn't mind.

Alymath thinks to you, << I bespoke Farleth with: Alymath is distracted from her separation anxiety by the rose, but she just as soon takes the image and lights it on fire with the end of her incense-cum-cigaratte. Fwooosh. >>

Lis applauds Fyria's efforts, but she does notice that Sinead is holding out. "Aw, come on - it's just a kiss. I won't rat on you, and half the weyrlingmasters know about Turnday's anyhow," she cajoles, urging the candidate on.

Fyria waves a hand back at him even as she saunters over to reclaim her mug and seat.  "Anytime, T'am."  With a sigh, she settles into the chair, legs kicking up as she finishes her klah.  Chores call soon.  A little wink is given to Ead, encouraging.  "Go ahead, Ead.  T'am makes for quite a nice breakfast treat."  Cough.  Of course, she has her own preferences for breakfast treats, but that's for her to know.

Alymath senses Farleth recoils, mind snapping back where it belongs as his lovely rose is incinerated. It's charred ashes are swept away from Alymath on a fiery crimson and orange tide, carried back to a small place where they can be nursed back into life.

Sinead eyes T'am and chuckles slightly before turning to Lis and Fy. "Now, I'm sure T'am has had his fill of turnday tradition," she offers with a smirk. Do you really think Ead's going to let T'am get off without the full compliment of turnday tradition? So Eady stands and makes her way over to the rider, an evil grin on her face...

Alymath> Farleth snorts vexatiously and tries to ignore the object of his attention...unsuccessfully, because his eyes keeps wandering back to that bright hide.

Alymath> Quara walks in.
Alymath> Quara saunters calmly to the Caverns.
Quara saunters calmly in from the Central Bowl.

Alymath> Above, Zylpheth glides in from the north.
Alymath> Above, Zylpheth drops down towards the Bowl.
Alymath> Zylpheth drops in from above, landing with a light *thud*.
Alymath> Kh'ryn slides down from the cloudy peaks of Zylpheth's neck, leaving the breathtaking view behind.
Alymath> Kh'ryn walks, with casual strides to the Caverns.
Kh'ryn walks, with casual strides in from the Central Bowl.

<High Reaches Weyr> Alymath senses that she feeds on Farleth's red, the color suddenly triggering instinct. Slavering chops never looked so sexy as they go after blood, the drumbeat souding as loud as the heart's: kill, blood, fly!

Alymath> Farleth is startled into rearing back on his hind legs, great wings sweeping rhythmically as he lets loose a challenging bugle.

Lis slowly begins to unfocus and stare at the wall - not necessarily out of character, for it is early and she is tired, but the caterwauling out in the bowl suggest something much worse than your usual zoning-out.

Alymath> Above, Mneoth glides in from the north.
Alymath> Above, Mneoth drops down towards the Bowl.
Alymath> Mneoth drops in from above, landing with a light *thud*.
Alymath> Mneoth crouches low, a sigh escaping his lungs, to allow Khena to shift to the ground.
Alymath> Khena treks to the Caverns.
Khena treks in from the Central Bowl.

<High Reaches Weyr> Alymath senses that Sakuruth catches the thread of scarlet that weaves through the collective consciousness and adds his own fragmented shards of silver. Razor-sharp edges slice in, adding a further taint of blood to the whole mess.

T'am is startled into dropping his mug, spilling the remainder of klah onto the table, where it nicely joins with the puddle he put there earlier. Attention is divided between Ead and the door to the courtyard, as he briefly wonders if his Turnday gifts caused that. Forgive him, its early and he's confused.

Alymath> Alymath sends up a shrill swansong that swoops through the orchestra from trumpets to flutes to the highest vibratto of the first violin. Though she can't come close to matching Farleth's height at she rears, a flap of wings quickly moves her into the air, surging gracefully towards the pens.

Alymath> You go to the Pens.

Alymath> Pens
Alymath> Freshened breezes from the lake to the south linger with the stronger scents of herdbeast and wherry, dust and dung, that fill this ovoid enclosure. The sturdy fence sways out into the bowl, captures an outlet of clear blue lake, and, as it meets the bowl wall, grows into a stout wind-shelter replete with hay and feeding troughs; not too far above, a claw-marked series of feeding ledges lie, decorated by a few discarded and bleached-out bones.  A few clusters of green sprout, downtrodden, in the hard ground, tracked over by the stampeding of the herds.
Alymath>   It is a spring midmorning.
Alymath> To the south, you see Zenzorath, Wiranth, Jhanath, and Dsalth.
Alymath> Squabbling over leftovers is Monaco.
Alymath> Blue Sakuruth is here.
Alymath> You see Kukalaka, Hanabi's Uncreatively Titled Wagon, Large Wherry Cage, Herd of Herdbeasts, and &note here.
Alymath> Obvious exits:
Alymath> Stables     Barn     Training Grounds     Central Bowl     Beach

Alymath> Farleth moves with steady assurance in from the Central Bowl.

Alymath> Zylpheth hyper-shuffles, with the great enthusiasm of youth in from the Central Bowl.

Sinead finishes off her part of the turnday tradition and plants a light kiss, wherever T'am does so choose. Then, she makes her way back to her seat and takes a sip of her klah. "Hullo Khena, did you know that T'am's celebrating his turnday today?" She enquires.

Alymath> Zylpheth has travelled this route many times before, and yet, even now, he still twitches his great blue tail in anticipation. Ignoring the bugles, he instead opts out for simple harmony, a soft hum as he follows the shinning beauty towards the pens, and a light lunch.

Alymath> Mneoth slinks resolutely in from the Central Bowl.

Fyria watches as one by one, riders trail in from the bowls.  She does start slightly at a bugle from outside, though she recognizes what it means, in part to flizzen images and Lis' expressions.  After all, she's been asking a -lot- of questions as a Candie.  One look is given to Ead, along with a nod.  Yup.  Wineskins are going to be needed.  Lots.  She disappears into the kitchens and reappears with a couple, dropping them on the tables.  Choose yer weapons.

"Oh, shards!" Yup, Quara is properly upset about the entire matter, and she turns promptly to Lis. "Oh, Lis, dear, and just in the middle of breakfast, too! Now why couldn't you even have held it off an hour or two?" she whines, in a grating tone that hasn't had the edge blurred with wine yet. "Really, this quite disrupts my morning." Classic Quara: petulant, complaining, and directing her anger at the wrong source entirely.

<High Reaches Weyr> Alymath senses that Farleth releases the charred ashes of his rose, allowing the flame of crimson and gold to spill forth, lapping at the thoughts of the others even as his nose detects the sharp scent of fresh blood close by.

Kh'ryn was about to wish the turn boy a happy day, when he too swivels his head towards the direction of the bowl. Then, a look of near-fear is shot towards Lis. "Yoooouuu.." he utters, his jaw then falling lack as he glances at her belly. "But.. but.. Isn't she ever happy!?" he then shouts, meaning Aly, but.. at the same time... *shrug* "I thought.. well.." The bluerider just points to the woman's predicament. "Shouldn't that hold her down for a little while??" He obviously didn't know that a female dragon is much like a human woman - they have their own mind, and no one can control 'em when it comes down to.. well.. this..

As Khena comes into the caverns, her eyes linger for a moment toward the Bowl, a grimace slowly crossing her face as she turns back to the others. "Turnday...? No. Congratulations, T'am," she says, crossing her arms in front of her chest, taking a deep breath as she makes her way to a table, sliding into a chair with a grim look on her face.

Alymath> Alymath drops from the air with the finality of the executioner's axe, this Angel of Death dropping upon a herdbeast which she soon renders at least unconcious, finding pulsing areteries by predatory instincts alone and drinking deep. It's only Lis' concentration that keeps her from going for the succelent organs, reinforcement of that need to fly, not to eat.

Lis is merely muttering to herself - to Alymath, really - and in no position to fend off any comments about her timing or her libido, even forgetting T'am's Turnday. Taking a deep breath, the greenrider's head clears as Alymath bloods, and she finally recognizes the faces around her with a grimace. "Well. Oughtn't we be heading out of the prying public eye?"

<Local> Alymath senses that Zylpheth allows his lazy thoughts to intrude gracefully; not nearly as stuttered and quick as they usually happen to be. Instead, the strong sent of musk, mixed with the breezy smell of fresh air and faint sandalwood, thrills along, allowing that, more than words, to express his sentiments exactly. Though, he does toss a drawled, <<Beautiful day for a dance with the wind..>> in there somewhere.

T'am reels in the confusion of this sudden chaos. Turnday greetings are responded to with nods of the head and the attempt of a smile...though it quickly turns to a concentrating frown. Attention wanders to Lis, who he blames for...well, everything now.

Alymath> Sakuruth simply waits where he was, perched on one of the higher feeding ledges, and watches; less obtrusive than many a brown or bronze, certainly, but he still manages to make his presence felt.

Alymath> Mneoth makes straight for a large buck, coming down on it from above without the animal even noticing him before it is dead. Ripping open its throught he bloods the creature, bugling a loud challenge as blood drips from his maw.

Sinead sighs and stands, knowing full well what's going on here. So the candie nods to everyone and makes her way back to the deeper section of the Weyr, allowing the riders to have their own 'fun' or whatever it is you call that.

Sinead steps into the shadows that lead back into the Weyr.

Quara seconds that, gathering up the skins of wine with a grateful nod to Fyria. "Of course. Come on, Lissie." And then, louder: "To the ground weyrs, everyone." That is, everyone participating.

<Local> Alymath senses that she is lust incarnate, reeking of spicy, rose musk and the sickly-sweet smell of blood. No words surface in the chaotic voide of her thoughts, except for lances of superiority arced towards the males. They'll never wrap their fumbling claws around her, never snag her fae wings in theirs.

Alymath> The blue certainly agrees with Aly's decision; though his connection with his Kh'ryn is not as strong as that between Lis and her dragon. And therefore, the small ovine that he picks up become more than just a blood sacrifice. Thankfully, he doesn't feed on too much... which is why a few more wherry's are then his chosen target. Licking his chops after this lovely drink slash snack, he then continues to eye the great green jewel who dines before him. Hmmmm... What whiles shall he exert this time in order to impress the lady?

X'ner slinks along in from the Central Bowl.

Khena grabs hold of a pitcher of ale, and a few mugs, then follows the other riders, though still rather reluctantly. "Ground weyrs... Right," she mutters, eyes moving from one to the other.

Fyria looks off in the direction of the infirmary, wondering if there are any, er, chores that might need to be done, before a knowing smile is given to the others.  "Have fun" is said in a coying way as she waves them off.

Alymath> Nezdarvyth slinks along with a barely noticable stumble in from the Central Bowl.

Alymath> Farleth refrains from giving in to the urge to bellow and instead falls silently on a buck, tearing into it and drinking deeply. Maw comes up only so that fiery orbs may gaze at Alymath, blood trickling a dark path from the one snaggling tooth down Farleth's bronze chin.

"I didn't mean to scare everyone away," Lis whimpers contritely, looking up at Quara with a cock of her head not unlike Alymath's, who is eyeing the males in much the same way the greenrider is eyeing her ersatz court of callers. "Ground weyrs... yes." Only stumbling a little, she feels her way along the walls, mananging not to see too much red.

Bundle up 'gainst snow or sun! The bowl is open to seasons' wrath.

Open sky is exchanged for protecting stone.

Ground Weyrs
Once a mere overhang in the bowl wall, this arched stone enclave was deepened in aeons past by who-knows-what to provide shelter for injured dragons and their mates. Craggy walls loom high to dwarf rider and dragon alike, sloping back from the weather-open entrance to a low opening into the infirmary itself. Stacked under rock-shaded cover are low supply chests of sturdy timber, flanked with long tables. Other openings are shaded by wherhide curtains, leading to smaller, private caverns for the dragonhealers' patients.
  It is a spring midmorning.
Settled on rough-hewn ledge are Bansi, Bow-Wow, Kyoei, Vuil, Pix, Stellar, Angel, and Sartorius.
Obvious exits:
Bowl     Inner Ground Weyr     Infirmary

Quara comes into shelter from bowl's wide open spaces.
Khena comes into shelter from bowl's wide open spaces.
Kh'ryn comes into shelter from bowl's wide open spaces.
T'am comes into shelter from bowl's wide open spaces.
X'ner comes into shelter from bowl's wide open spaces.

Alymath> Alymath would chuckle at their clumsiness, if she could - as it is, her shoulders shake in an approximation of human laughter, air chuffing through her nostrils and open mouth. Blood paints her red like lipstick, splashing upon her cheeks like blush, making her up feirce like war paint and feminine cosmetics into some femme-fatale. Another buck is pounced on, and as she sucks it dry, the thrill of feminist conquerance makes her tremble, and her glowing swell.

Having snatched a skin of wine upon his depart from the bowl, Kh'ryn then settles down with it along the side the far wall of the ground weyrs. There's no way he's going to relinquish his alcohol so easily this time. Unlike the last time he was stuck in such circumstances... The one time when his.. ah.. actions got away with him, and all know the outcome of /that/ flight. Kwa, most certainly, would remember... Ahem. "So.. nice day out, huh?" he starts off the conversation with, trying for light topics at first.

Alymath> Mneoth is ready to get going. Why wait so long? He's had the blood he needs, or at least that's what he's telling himself, being anxious to get going right now! Sitting on the ground with every muscle tensed, the brown is as ready as ever to spring into the sky following the green. If she ever decides to go up in the air..

T'am somehow managed to find his feet and make his way along with the rest to the ground weyrs. Too many people, too sudden, and too /early!/. Searching green eyes scan the growing crowd until they locate...Kh'ryn! With wine. "Sharding fine day it was turning out to be...!" bronzerider mumbles as he weaves his way toward the bluerider.

Alymath> Slink. Slink slink. Leeeeeeeer. Mwaha. And there's Nezdarvyth. Hey. He /stalks/ his prey. Though whether that prey is currently the herdbeasts, or the glowing Alymath..is yet to be determined. Alright, so he saw the glow and got curious. But now? Oh yes, this shall be his as well. See the blades of grass? Those are his too, don'tcha know. And the rocks. Alllll the rocks. Spring! The bronze flattens a herdbeast beneath his claws, a low growl coming from him. Ew..squishy..ahem. Yes. Blood.

Lis, unlike Alymath, is content to remain in her pack of males - and females, too - during this flight. That way, if she falls, there's something conveniently squishy and organic to fall /onto/. "Make yourselves at home," she gasps, waving to the few nooks and crannies around the groundweyrs. Just like English muffins.

Alymath> Sakuruth remains. Quiet, lurking, like a predator from the shadows, he sits stone-still. He is ready to fly, but waits patiently for the green who bloods below, transforming herself from gypsy beauty to some arcane sight.

Alymath> Zylpheth can't help but grin draconic-like at the sparkling emerald. My my my, doesn't she look much like his rider did, just two days hence? Of course, Aly is much more enticing and alluring than Kh'ryn could ever be... However, now is not the time for him to be thinking of the poor, blushing bluerider. Instead, he focuses once again upon his glowing green queen, and raises slowly to his back legs to utter more melodic twiddles... Perfect dancing music, neh?

Khena slinks into the ground weyrs, making for the shadows with her pitcher of ale hugged close to her body. "Why did I ever let 'im convince me that I should come down," she mutters to herself, pouring a mug all the way to the edge, then downs half of it in one gulp.

Stumble..gack. X'ner follows the general crowd, rather...startled. "..Come down for a bite to eat and what do I get?" Whine? Hmpf. Though...he's not /completely/ opposed to this whole flight thing. Beam. Aheh..yeah. "Kh'ryn!" Yes, that one has wiiiiine. "Can I have some of that..?" Wine is nice.
Quara has been through the whole thing before, far too many times for her own good. So she plays traffic director in Lis' stead, waving riders about to the various seats. "Lost?" she asks, in Khena's direction, for the poor girl certainly looks it. (For the sake of those assembled, though, she avoids adding, "Have you tried Hare Krishna?")

Alymath> Alymath is in her element, raising up her attribute of lascivious female beauty - not the chasteness of little girls or the wonder of motherhood, but the tangible, powerful ascenion to fully-operational female, ready to steal hearts and enjoy herself thoroughly. Let them wait, as they may, for she's got one more buck to blood, and then... Trailing drops of crimson liquid, she rises into the sky trailing behind the multicolored males with a pulsing life that no green fairy ever had.

Kh'ryn  had just been looking for breakfast, and look where it got him! Seeing T'am start his path towards him, he sighs and offers up a /sip/ of the wine. It is the poor lad's Turnday, after all. Then, however, he overhears X'ner's call for the liquor too, and whines... "Aw, come on folks.. Leave me /some/ ok?" They have bronzes... They should be more used to this than he... Although, Zylph does make a sport of chasing nearly /every/ green that goes up!

Alymath> Up up up! Wings beat to lift you up out of the dusty pens.
Alymath> Above the Feeding Pens
Alymath> Wayward breezes carry the mixed scent of herdbeast and wherry from below, occasionally fusing with the salty odor of the ocean from afar. Spires overlook and shadow the pens below, often blanketing the scythed, claw-cut ledges used for feeding. Thermals, unusually steady for this area, keep that scent aloft and ever-present, growing stronger as they descend to the feeding grounds below.
Alymath>   It is a spring midmorning.
Alymath> Obvious exits:
Alymath> Up     Pens     Weyrling Air     Above the Lake     Above the Bowl     Ledges

Alymath> Zylpheth bursts up from the dust below.
Alymath> Mneoth bursts up from the dust below.
Alymath> Nezdarvyth bursts up from the dust below.
Alymath> Sakuruth bursts up from the dust below.
Alymath> Farleth bursts up from the dust below.

"Hiding," Khena mutters to Quara, grinning crookedly as she downs another swig of ale. The brownrider, glances around the other riders, she suddenly jumps eyes glazing over, and mouth forming a small o. "Oohhh, nooo," she whispers, eyes refocusing to get Lis in her field of vision. "I shoulda jus' stayed in my weyr...." Sharding dragon telling her to come down to the living caverns.

Alymath> Farleth was a little slow getting off the ground, what with the extra mass he's carrying that doesn't seem to bother the luscious Alymath or the blues that also persue...once he's up he's a match for even the most agile of the smaller dragons!

Sc'arecrow saunters in lightly, calling something over his shoulder someone who had appearantly been with him until now. His saunter is less arrogant as simply comfortable. It's how he walks. Light mottle-green eyes turn around, a little lost. He hasn't actually been here before but it seems nice enough. A slightly-more-than polite smile flicks around to all, and rests for a long momment on the one who he guesses is the greenrider. Whee!

Alymath> Zylpheth is the first to follow, he too trailing jewel like droplets of blood with the sudden jerk of flight. He's still ready to give obeisance to the green queen, however, much like a court jester, he decides to humour her first. Therefore, with that in mind, he opens wings wide, curving the left one just so, so that he can swivel towards that side, carried with the wind. A swift turn brings him back around, before he pulls the same manouver on the other side. Voila! Aerodenamics anyone?

Lis doesn't need any liquor, for nothing's better than undiluted Alymath for loosening her inhibitions and giving her headaches in the morning. As her dragon rises, a few Turns of debauchery seem to melt away, and the rider that's curling up into a ball on the floor in the center of this circus little, weyrling-Lis, her dragon going up for just the very first time. (Though /that/ Lis wasn't pregnant.)

Alymath> Nezdarvyth laps at the blood staining his muzzle. Hm. Hey! Red is a nice color. About as good as pink..erm..black. Yes. Black is the best color. Growl. ..wait a minute. The green is..gone? Gah! Hey! A kick from the ground and the bronze launches himself upward in persuit, cackling bugle rising from his throat. A jewel to capture, a jewel to own, a jewel to sparkle, one to take home. Teeheehee..

Alymath> Sakuruth is in his element as he springs up, like hope eternal, launching himself into the crisp morning sky. Without a fountain like Alymath's trailing behind him, he leaves no mark of his passage but the air that rushes to fill behind him and the backwash of his wingbeats. A strange glint shines in his fire-hued eyes, as if slavering madness has left its blazon on him.

Alymath> Alymath delights in finding herself unburdened from a rider, unburdened from anything but the joy of flying as high and as fast as she can, eliminating as many of those puny males from the race as she can before she finally gets bored of all this. But not now; now is a time for zipping from one end of the weyr to the other, seeing who will follow.

T'am gratefully takes a swig of Kh'ryn's wine. "Thanks" he gasps out as the skin is snatched away from him once more. He needed that. A hand goes to his head, brushing aside curls then coming to rest alongside his temple, as though he has a headache. "This is going to be a long day." X'ner is finally noticed and given a sideways smile of greeting.

X'ner just....grins at Kh'ryn. Oooh, he's so nice. Beam. Wine is taken, and sipped from...alright, a bit more than sipped from, before he hands it back with a tiny, "Thaaaaank you." Scuttle. He moves to settle into a place, looking over at T'am with a faint grin.

Alymath> Brainth slips unobtrusively up into the air, following... Ah... There she is. A green. A pretty green nonetheless. But that's what they all say, he looks appraisingly at his fellow chasers, and his mind begins to work. Being a small brown, he is agile, but not enough to match a blue... And his very light colouring doesn't allow from much sneaking and hiding, unless there are much clouds about. He decides instead on simply trailing for a while. Not much of a tactic, but it'll have to do.

Alymath> Mneoth jump up after Alymath Like a spring being released, he gains quite a bit of height from the jump alone. Now, only one thing is in his mind, and its not avoiding a collision with the other males chasing his prize. Great wings carry him ever closer as he keeps his whirling reddish eyes fixed on the glowing green. He would not, could not lose this flight. He's absolutely convinced of it.

Quara might not be taken back Turns, but she does remember another flight, long ago, when Lis was pregnant; of course, so was she. But their increasing age aside, she finishes her take-charge bit and sits comfortably close to Lis, in a half-guarding pose; she watches both the greenrider and the others present, and a small smile is spared for the young ones, as if in reassurance.

Taking care not to /snatch/ his wineskin back from Ner, ('cause how polite would that be?) Kh'ryn then manages to gather his first sip of many of the sparkling liquor. Wiping his mouth when he's through, he then stares into space for a moment or two, his brow scrunching up, creating small ripples under the fringe of his messy bangs. "Not again," he breathes quietly, perhaps to himself, or to his antic-crazed dragon. "Followhernowyousillyegg!" he then shouts, before coming too and blushing faintly. "Um.. Ah.. More wine anyone?" He'll be glad to share, on second thought, if you'll all forget you heard that!

Alymath> Sakuruth would follow Alymath to the ends of the universe, in a sort of insane devotion inspired by the fey daemon who flies before him. Tactics are for those who have some shred of intelligcense left; with his mind given over to calling tuneless praises in Alymath's honor, he relies on strength to power him, alternately slicing through the currents of air and battering against them.
Alymath> Farleth delights in being airborn, as always. Water is the enemy, land is to be watched, but the sky...ah, the sky is where he /belongs/! Tarnished rust-spattered wingsails unfolded, he focuses once more on the taunting, fairy, absinthe shape ahead of him. This time he will not allow her to disappear like a puff of smoke!

Alymath> Nezdarvyth isn't puny! Nope! Not a puny dragon! So there. Foom! But showing off that fact is not this bronze's style. A plan..yes...a cunning plan must be concocted. Bwaha.. Wings beat, sending bronzen form after the glowing green, every intent of capture gleaming in brightly whirling eyes. Yesss my pretty, join his ranks to be the ones to take over all of Pern!

Khena shakes her head, trying to block out the whirling images coming from her lifemate. A few steps, and she's out of the shadows, getting closer to the pack of riders near Lis, getting closer to her friend Kh'ryn. "Khor," she says, giving the bluerider a nod and a crooked grin. Khor was safe to be around, right?

Lis shivers in her balled-up position, her chin seeking solace between her knees as she stares out into the bowl, which really isn't the bowl, but the sky. She has no more controll over her lifemate than the other riders' do; she's just along for the rider. Quara's presence is noticed, and it calms her briefly - a glimmer of recognition sparks in her unseeing eyes as she looks in that direction.

Alymath> Zylpheth halts his antics as his rider makes an uncommon leap into his subconscious. Alas, no time for frivolous dives and twists, as he's being commanded to follow the green jewel into the sunrise. Well, he's up for that, he supposes. Therefore, doffing the court jester routing, he then dons a more royal personality, pushing forward; straight and true, towards Aly; his bound to be queen. Lookit who's come to see you, my love! The perfect groom, for the perfect bride! Though he may be short in stature compared to the green, he's certainly not compensating for anything!

Sc'arecrow follow the example of most others in the room, and takes a seat. A smile is noted and returned. He likes smiling, a lot, and for the sake of it he smiles again at the person next to him. Something about wine is heard and the young rider, gives an excited twitch of one hand. "Oh. I would like some wine please, if there's some going around?" He speaks with a lot of expression. Almost too much expression, but his eyes are wide and sincere.

Alymath> Alymath has not the strength or stamina of the males, but she has a near-physchic knowledge of the patterns of the air, slipping between troublesome air currents as if she weren't solid herself. A glance over her shoulder to the following males, and a critical snort; the can never posess her - she can only let them enjoy her, for a while. No one's queen, no one's pretty, but for a sum, she'll be your courtesan.

X'ner just...grins at Kh'ryn again. Oh, isn't he so nice? Offering wine like that. Scoooot. The bronzerider moves closer to the bluerider. Beam. Yes. Kh'ryn is his new, very good friend. Wine!

T'am remains glued near Kh'ryn's side. And not only because he has a skinfull of wine. There is something comforting in the presence of those who stood with him on the Sands and went through Weyrlinghood and first flights as he did. Even as his dragon seeks to leave clutchmates behind, the rational part of T'am tells him that here is as good a place as any to stand and pass the time.

Quara still has a few skins of wine going unattended, and so she tosses one in Sc'arecrow's direction, with barely a glance. "Help yourself, lad." Of course he's a lad. They're all lads, these days. Except for Khena and Lis, of course, and any other ladies present. She takes a long swig of her own wine; rather than try and control her blue, she simply seeks to remain detached enough to control herself. And, mostly, it works.

Lis lets Quara play hostess, for it's more her style. This greenrider, however, has a lifemate to wrangle, and rather than prolong this anxious posturing, she attempts to herd the bucking green into making a choice. This reality flickers in and out of her dragon's, and the riders faces are frighteningly superimposed on dragons'. "Ah!"

Alymath> But truly, this blue only wants to worship the jeweled beauty soaring before him! Dreams of kingdom quickly vanish, as he valiantly tries to keep a steady pace. However, the itch to twirl and show off some is always present, searching for a way to get out from under his skin. Speaking of skin, did you know that Zylph is like an onionroot? No, he's not smelly, nor does he make you cry - but, he does have layers... Layers upon layers of fascinating fun that will leave you breathless (with mirth?) for hours! Of course, not everyone likes onionroots, so... Still, he bats those wings hard, showing that at least, this onion can fly!

Alymath> Braith slides sideways in experimental attempt to antissipate the green's movements. He doesn't know her twists and turns yet, but the calculating has begun. The exhilaration of flight is felt, noted and filed carefully in his widened memory to savour later. If he doesn't win this he'll need something to hold close to afterwards. The little brown doesn't exactly expect to lose though, and he slides down on an air current in yet another test of pattern and randomness. He's going to figure out the price before he's going to try and pay it.

Alymath> Nezdarvyth snorts faintly. She snorteth at him! Well now. Snorts shall not do. No, no. Shame shame. Cackle. Fiesty girl! Those are soooo much more fun. A snap of the wings, and he presses onward, diving along through the different currents, circling wide in an attempt to cut the green off. Yes! Cut her off at the pass! Erm..wait, no, that's a hero thing. Ewww...maybe he should just tie Alymath to some train tracks. That could work too, you know. And rope..can be so fun...

Alymath> Mneoth zips through the air, following an invisible line only he can see. A bright green line it is for him, a line attached to the prize at the end, consisting of a glowing green female. All else around him is a blur; Dragons, clouds, dragons? Wait? He still has contenders? Hrmf, he will soon rid himself of those pesky contenders to the throne, to the prize.

Alymath> Sakuruth is no prince, come to rescue Alymath and take her away from all the troubles of the world. He's far too realistic, when he's in his right mind, for that. Practical. Pragmatic, even. Besides, how could he, maddened by her ever-present glow, hope to claim her? Impossiblities are for dreamers, not the insane. And he's not dreaming; Alymath is too vividly real for even the strangest nightmare.

Alymath> Farleth bugles forth an offer as he sours though the air. The wealth of the world...all that is at his disposal- and at the moment it seems he owns the very air -would gladly be forsaken if he could only enjoy the company of the green whisp ahead and...wait a moment! Is that Nezdarvyth cutting ahead? The fire that burns within eyes and heart bursts upward and the bugle of offering turns to a defiant challenge!

Kh'ryn suddenly feels clausterphobic, as nearly a half of the group seems to be congragating near him! A nod and weak smile to Khena, and then a weaker, frightened smile to the every /scooting/ X'ner. Only T'am escapes his gaze for the moment, the lucky boy... For now.

Lifts a hand to catch the wine skin, but fumblingly misses it, and has to duck to scoop it off the floor. Completely unembarassed by his slip up, he calls a cheerful 'thankful' back along the arc of the skin's flight. Might not be the right person he's calling to, but it's all the same to him. Wine is tasted and swirled curiously around in his mouth, eyebrows scooting up on his forehead in surprise and delight. This wine is different from any that he's ever had. Of course... most every glass or skin of wine is different, but that's not the point. [Sc'arecrow]

X'ner just..beams at Kh'ryn. "Hi." Hey, Kh'ryn has /wine/...hm..that or he's actually a greenrider here and just never knew it.

Alymath> Alymath soars high above the weyr, reaching the point where oxygen becomes spare and the head goes dizzy. Yet she cannot outshine Rukbat, whose rays are pouring over the seven spires and causing her own glow to falter and pale. Insanely jealous - for she /is/ green - the dragon gives an anguished cry and dives back to earth, aiming straight for those males set up as nicely as tenpins. It's their leave if they want to move out of the way, but what's a bruised rib or a sideswipe in the name of love?

Khena doesn't retreat, dispite seeing the look in Kh'ryn's eyes. Stronger forces were at work here, and the brownrider would rather hang close to a friend than one of those... Other male riders in the ground weyrs with them.

T'am suddenly turns on X'ner, a finger jabbing toward the other rider's chest. Eyes somewhat vacant and cheeks coloring red in a bit of anger he shouts "Back off!" Oh, ooops. Wait? What did X'ner do? He got to close to Alymath! Er, wait? T'am looks slightly confused, but still angry.

Quara is not congregating. She's standing guard. Or she would be, if she weren't sitting down. But she's not among those gathering, horde-like, around Kh'ryn. No, she waves slightly to Sc'arecrow, and then slides the remaining wineskins along the floor to the group. "Here, dears, don't all pester the poor lad. Give him some space." Odd, how she's more maternal to the riders of her wing than to her own offspring.

Alymath> Nezdarvyth turrrrns, making his switch to where he just hopes he might intercept...the diving Alymath? Gah!! Nah, he won't move. He's a big bronze boy, right? He can withstand the impact of a green, can't he? Squeak. Just don't break one of his nails! That would be..just horrendus! And..and just wrong. Sniff. Mwaha! Talons splayed, tail snapping, the darkling bronze holds his ground, a growl issuing forth. He's scary, right? Meow.

Alymath> Zylpheth doesn't retreat! He could never retreat.. Unless, of course, he were called to do so by his rider. However, Kh'ryn is too busy shaking off dragons, er, riders of his own, so he's not truly concentrating on what Zylph is doing - which is why the blue dragon decides to pull something rash. Really? Really, really. And so, with a fair bit of dexterity, he swivels to the side as the green jewel soars past, making sure that his wings are pulled in tight in order to join in the death-dive. Following her down into oblivion, he marvels at the tempting emerald hide that wiggles before him. Sure, it's big, but what about the location? If it was up to him, that rear would be planted somewhere a little more closer to home!

X'ner blinks faintly, then growls at T'am. Yikes! Where did that come from? Oh dear. "Get your own!" Own what? Erm...his own Alymath, of course. Or..erm..something like that. Gah. Darn dragon mind..

Alymath> Mneoth dips a wingtip, neatly avoiding the projectile of a green coming toward him. Another dip of the wing and his course is straight again. Toward /her/. Folding great wings across his back, he becomes a projectile himself (or a falling brick?), talons splayed out to catch his prize before she (and he) slams into the ground beneath.

Alymath> The light brown sees the green diving down at him. An unexpected turn indeed, but he's not completely unresourseful, and he'll find something to do. Brainth rises a little madly calculating the route the green must take to come out of the dive. No matter what she might want them to think, the probability of her smacking into the ground are nearly nil. A position in the sky is carefully chosen, and the brown carefully blocks all emotion from his mind. He's not going to let on that he really really wants this. But... Where he is, if she slips by she will have to come up... and he'll be there... Nearly inescapable.

Alymath> Sakuruth is rather too dark to be a tenpin; besides, how can one dragon be ten at once? But, mysteries of life aside, he fails to move out of the way; either he's stopped in the name of love, or she's actually blinded him with science... chemistry, that is. And, after being fairly bowled over, he somehow ends up facing in the right direction to chase after her again, chasing through the battlefield of love. Come on, Aly, it's time to break free! Faranth knows he's madly in love with her, and he's ready for anything she can throw at him. Or, well... that's what he thinks, anyhow. Time to see.

As the two other male riders begin to argue around him, Kh'ryn wonders just /who/ they're fighting over? Oh dear Faranth, don't let it be him!! This thought, in turn, manages to make him glance again towards Khena, while mouthing a silent, "Help!" With all of this, and the flight taking place deep in his mind, the poor bluerider can hardly see straight... However, he does manage to squint, and there's the lovely, pregnant Lis. You know, out of all the people gathered here tonight, she's actually the one who least frightens him. Now, how /weird/ is that?!?

Alymath> Farleth is momentarily distracted by Nezdarvyth...only refocusing in time to see...a great green arrow aimed right at the heart?! He's dexterous, he's agile...he's very afraid that she's going to kill him. What was that he thought about commitment and steadfastness earlier? Adoration...or at least odd bronze lust, makes the decision for him, and the head-on charge is continued.

Alymath> Alymath cannot resist a booty call, and she's sure as shells getting one from Zylpheth. Flipping her wings wide, the green does indeed 'back that thang up' and finds herself someone to cuddle and tangle with, doing all but wrapping her own neck around the blue's. Not your typical fairy-tale princes, eh?

Khena's eyes glaze over, her breathing getting faster while her lips move slightly, "nonono..." What /was/ her silly lifemate doing anyway? Swaying on her feet, she grabs a hold of the nearest thing to her in order to steady herself. Which happens to be her Good Friend the bluerider. Blinking, she manages to catch site of who she's clinging to and a surprise expression crosses her face. "Khor?!"

T'am splutters, mind thoroughly entangled with his dragons now. "I saw her first! She charred my flower!" What in Faranth's name does /that/ mean? Oh wait, she's gone to someone else. Rider rounds on Kh'ryn...only to become aware of his surroundings one more...a crimson blush creeping into his cheeks.

Alymath> Certainly not, but then again, he's not your everyday dragon either. Carefully, he twists tail and forepaws in order to promise safe landing, and together, they fall off into the sun... ah.. rise? Well, whichever, it'll make for a pretty happy ending, he'll bet! [Zylpheth]

Lis groans half in relief, half in amusement, as Alymath makes her choice. "Sicko-green. First dress-wearing blueriders, now makeup-wearing ones." Kh'ryn is looked at with big, soulful eyes, and the world is suddenly narrowed to the very public private act going on above. And /is/ Alymath noisy.

Alymath> Sakuruth, for all his apparent madness, might not have been as attached as he seemed. Certainly, he wheels off without great disappointment, winging down and to the northern bowl. So much for mad devotion, eh?

Alymath> Mneoth sees that someone else has caught his prize and veers off, making his way back to the Weyr, already forgetting about the green as he speeds away from her and the blue entangled. Alymath who?

X'ner grins almost...evilly. Eeeee, too much Nezdarvyth in his head! "Oh /did/ she? What a lovely thought, charred flowers..ahehehehehe...." Blink. Oh wait a second, now Nez is just plain grumpy. Twitch. At least the rider is himself again..erm..mostly, and looks at T'am, slightly dazed. Oi. Flights.

Quara isn't so very sympathetic towards Lis, though she, too, suffers little disappointment. And, with a slight glint of avarice in her green eyes, she scans the room. Surely there's /someone/ there who's free.

Alymath> Farleth warbles something rather unintelligble, that may have been a remnant of anger at the one who so frequently shares his ledge, or maybe an apology, and spirals downward.

Sc'arecrow has his eyes seemingly closed now, half deliriously enjoying the wine, half recieving the wonderful story of the flight from his dragon. Long lashes flip open, as the story comes to an end. Head is tipped to one side and his hand goes immediately to the scare on his eyebrow. Fiddle, twitch, and the excitable brownrider stands. "Thank you /very/ much for the wine," he says brightly, before twisting his very straight shoulders around, and heading off to have a little tactics discussion with his dragon, who needs it.

Alymath> Nezdarvyth blinks a bit, then grumbles to himself. Drat! Drat drat and double drat!! Ooooh, he'll have his revenge yet. Just wait and see! Cackle... And off he goes.

Kh'ryn can hardly believe it! His dragon actually.. amazing .. caught! But, wait.. Dizzying glee and ... um... other emotions, get pushed back when his mind slowly comes to the realization that yet again, he's landed a pregnant greenrider! Though, thankfully, this one isn't on account of him. He's about to offer some small comment to Lis, when he finds himself in the arms of.. Khena? Eyes blistering with warm blue sparks, he whispers to his /friend/, "I don't think you should be hugging me so tightly right about now.." The words are gritted out through clenched teeth, as it's hard enough for him to contain himself, let alone have someone manhandling him at the same time1

T'am blinks several times and clutches his head again. "Sorry." he mumbles in X'ner's direction. A moments thoughtful pause and then, "Wanna get some breakfast?" Or something else? Hmmm? Heehee.

From afar, Kh'ryn bows. Seems you and I RP quite well together, as S'tuff and Maximeth caught up with you last time.. *evil wink*
You paged Kh'ryn with: From afar, Lis' mind boggles. That's right!
From afar, Kh'ryn huggles. We rock!

Alymath> Brainth tucks his wings a little and drifts landwards, all ready to try and work out what exactly he should have done when and how. He's allready analyzing what exactly occured throughout the whole flight. Why? When? And what to do next time.

Alymath> Farleth soars in for a landing on Farleth's ledge.

Blink. X'ner just...stares at T'am for a moment. Stare....gah.. evil dragon thoughts! Though he can't help but grin a little at the thought. "..Breakfast..yeah...good idea. T'am looks delicious, doesn't he?" Oh dear.

T'am leaves healers' enclave for the central bowl.
X'ner leaves healers' enclave for the central bowl.

"I'm not," Khena manages to stammer, staring at Kh'ryn, though her sight is really somewhere else. "Oh... Right." Redness sweeps across her cheeks as she steps back from the bluerider. "I-I jus' needed something to keep my-my balance... Y'know?" An arm waves in the general direction of the finished flight, "Y'know.. Mneoth diving like that," she tries to explain, swallowing a lump in her throat.

Kh'ryn gulps, understanding completely. He's needing some support too, at the moment. Therefore, he wipes his brow and stands aside, leaning against the wall again. However, eyes keep darting towards the person who got them all into this.. mess. And so, with a sickly look to his face, he then mutters. "Um.. Lis. Want your feet massaged?" It's the least he can offer, right? Ahem.

"If you promise not to stop at just my feet," Lis purrs at Kh'ryn, managing to get her pregnant self up off the ground - if only so she can drag the bluerider off into scandalalous - yet satisfying - oblivion.

And since there are precious few people left who haven't paired off, Quara makes for the one Lis isn't aiming at. "Oh, Khena, darling..." She's gentle. Honest. And she's had lots of practice.

"I'll jus'... Y'know..." Get the shardin' hell outta here! "Err, have fun," Khena says and backs off, making her way toward the Bowl, bumping into Quara on the way. "Hey..." A slight smile at the rider, and she nods, turning from the other two hurrying out from the ground weyrs.

Khena leaves healers' enclave for the central bowl.

Quara mock-pouts, but quickly enough makes her exit, mumbling something about brownriders, and heads off in the direction of her weyr; not so incidentally, also Lylia's, when she's at home.
Quara leaves healers' enclave for the central bowl.

Kh'ryn can only gulp, and look fearfull yet again. Ok, so he was wrong. Lis was the one he should have been watching out for from the start. However, now's not the time to contemplate 'what if's' ... So, he galantly offers his arm, and other parts, towards the greenrider. "Lead on," he offers, showing that Zylph's promise of obeisance extends to him as well.

Lis leads Kh'ryn off to the curtained sections of the ground weyrs that are rather convenient for those purposes - for those of us who don't have stairs to their ledges - grinning like a fool, if only in the anticipation of sanctioned fence-jumping.