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.
Lyri walks in from the Central Bowl.
Lis grumbles as she wanders in from the elements, trailed after by a rather contrite and simpering Alymath, who only manages to get her nose through the door. "I don't care. I don't want to see you. Go away," she informs the muzzle that's stuck through the doorway, giving it a thorough shove for good measure.
Lyri looks over at Lis but only briefly and blankly, she's far to wrapped up in trying to calm both of the 'lizards who are chittering rather loudly as they compete for scritches upon their glowing green hides. "Shards and shells." She sighs, taking a drink from her fourth glass of wine since five minutes ago. "And this /headache/..."
Ciera strides, boots tapping, in from the Central Bowl.
Tilarekna strides with a cheerful spring in her step in from the Central Bowl.
Caylea silently, suavely, glides in from the Central Bowl.
"You..." Lis points an accusatory finger at Lyri, stalking pregnantly over towards the other greenrider, splaying hands agressively on the table in front of her. "It's all your fault, again. You and your green wench," declares the greenrider spitefully, distracted only to peer over her shoulder at Ciera with a sudden widening of eyes. A smile curves, and she straightens up, giving the bluerider a warm, purring, "/Cie/!" Oh, and those candidates; they get a brief glance - no males for Aly, see.
Kinecha walks in from the Central Bowl.
Tilarekna near runs in, desperate not to lose the heat she's gathered from being in the Gallery, and in haste slides straight past Lyri (who she met yesterday) and Lis, (who Seach-napped her) into the chair she'd left by the hearth.. and only then realises the two Green Riders are bickering.
Sasha wanders in after the others.
Sasha strides confidently in from the Central Bowl.
Lyri just blinks at Lis vapidly for a moment as both Temper and Columbia, unsettled by the other rider, begin a series of loud chitters and hisses that could give a deaf man a headache. "Oh shards.. see what you did? I just got them settled and.." Another look is turned to the pregnant rider. "Wench? What'd Nia have to do with all of this?" Remember, she's never been, and never gonna be, proddy.
"Cie! What? Huh?" Ciera looks much as though she's been assaulted, instead of just greeted. Granted, it was an ominous greeting, but it still didn't warrant the jump she gives. "Green wench? Her fault?" Confusion is a bluerider.
Kinecha wanders over to the refreshment table. Her mouth partched from the heat in the Galleries, she forgoes the klah for a glass of lovely cool redfruit juice. Gulping down half a glass she refills the glass and brings it to a table.
Lechery's a bluerider too, but he's not here at the moment. Lis shoots Lyri a venemous glare under her eyelashes, giving an equally sweet beam to Ciera. "Just saying hello, Ciera-darling. And this /mess/ is all Niamhyth's fault. The wench." One hand gestures airily out into the bowl where Alymath's becoming the latest thing in Pernese exterior lighting - and only /now/ does she give her fellow greenrider an overt snarl.
Warmth, warmth, warmth, warmth, COLD! It was far to cold running through the bowl, and only now does Caylea skid past all the riders, the people, the spectators, and nearly /land/ next to the food counter. Hot klah, doncha know? Eek. Only when hands lance around the pot and pour the liquid into a mug does the candidate glance back towards the tuffle. She blinks. But this is really too much for Caylea. Hugging her blanket closely, the woman sips the hot klah and heads over towards a table.
Lyri frowns at the words used and stands, nearly knocking over her glass. "Oh? And I suppose that my dragon merely resting outside to catch what little warmth she can in this all forsaken place caused your bratling green to go randy on you? I don't think so." Yeah, so there.. now, what was she saying? Sitting once again, she begins to try to sooth the glowing pair of miniature greens into some semblance of silence, though Temper appears to be a hard sell on this idea.
Sasha flings herself into a comfy chair, an amused look on her face, as she listend to the conversation going on between the riders. she grins and waves as Mayir enters and then settles back to enjoy the flying sparks.
Tilarekna STARES. Ooo.. Wait, Lis is a green rider.. and Lyri's a green rider... and Oh dear. Oh dear oh dear oh dear. B'oat's filled her head with ALL sortsa stories about... GREEN riders. Of course, her dearly loved, long departed mama was a green rider too so.. Meeping faintly, Reka watches wide eyes. Ooo, this NEVER happened.. wait, no, ithis sorta thing only REALLY happened with Silvera.
S'nor walks in from the Central Bowl.
And insanity is a greenrider, if we get right down to it. Ciera looks rather sick after a brief consultation with her blue lifemate. Proddy. Oh. "Just saying hello. Right." She makes a beeline for the klah, at this point. Don't make eye contact, maybe they won't see you.
Lis purses her lips as she peers around, noticing the large contigent of candidates. So, it's going to be a show, is it? Fingers drum against her hip again as she scowls fiercely at Lyri, proclaming, "Your green's been glowing for nearly a /sevenday/. Don't try to tell me you didn't notice..." S'nor, the latest entrant into this bedlam, is given another warm, syrupy smile from the greenrider. Purr.
Bounce. Bounce. In comes Jeri, floozy brownrider that she is, looking over at Lis and such. "Heeey, Lis," she croons happily, making her way over towards the greenrider, positively beaming. "Feeling a bit more perky today than most?" she giggles, giving a little wink at the word 'perky'. Winkwinknudgenudge.
S'nor's eyes are locked on the klah pots as he enters, his one track mind completely filled at the moment as he quickly crosses the Caverns to get himself a nice /warm/ mug of klah, he slowly lifts the mug to his lips, sniffing the fresh fragerance as he takes a tenetive sip of the warm beverage...
Lyri just blinks. "Glowing?" Since when did Niamhyth become a walking glowbasket? "For your informatin, she was just oiled a while ago and has been every day this sevenday because her wings and neckridges were itchy. Honestly, if you can't distinguish between oil and a glow.." Besides, she's the never proddy greenrider of 'Reaches, 'member? The hissing Temper is settled into her lap and another, quite long, drink of wine is taken before she looks about, muttering something about the riders of those pesky male dragons.
Well... Healers weren't exactly great at defusing situations. Especially ones like this. Caylea glances over to Kinecha and winks. "Looks like you might get a chance to try out your new position." She then looks back towards the riders. Eew, chilly. Huddling closer in her blanket, she arches a brow. "Proddy.." She mutters to herself before taking another safe sip of her drink.
Kinecha chooses to not interfere with this argument. She is after all still only a recruit, and really has /no/ idea, how to deal with fighting riders. Sitting back in her chair she takes another sip of her juice. To Cay she says "I don't really think I should interfere right now...."
Lis normally would enjoy Jeri's company - the keyword there being 'normally', of course. Now, however, she's got to come on to strangers and make strangers of those coming on to her. Greenrider logic, see. Jeri get's a sideways glance and a cold, "Huh," before she continues her argument with Lyri. "Oiled my - I can /too/ tell the difference. I've been a greenrider for longer than you have." See? She's got seniority.
Sasha wriggles out of her seat, smelling the rich aroma of klah....you knew it wouldn't be long....sauntering over to the hearth she pours a deep mugful and inhales it's scent. Chuckling under her breath and keeping her eyes low so as not to annoy the seething greenriders, she ducks back into her seat.
S'nor perks up an eyebrow and an ear as he hears 'proddy', his attention is split between klah and the crowd, he contents himself with easing in to a near by seat and watching the happenings almost amusedly...
Jeri, however, looks hurt, slumping over to sit next to Lis and sticking out her lower lip to her. Hmph! Be like that. "Ooooo. Two?" she says, looking up and over at Lyri. She's a cutie. Kinda. Even if Lis is more HerType
Tilarekna would snicker, but... Oooo, not gettin' involved. Nuhuh. Nope. Nononono. These are PRODDY riders! Maybe she should.. uh.. well, they might get insulted if she tries to leave? Hmmm... Think.. maybe a hello? Uh... No. Lets just stick to fetching some Klah shall we? Slipping from her chair quickly, she pours some of the HOT liquid into a spare mug, and makes a bee-line quick-walk return so as not to spill a drop. It's COLD, don'tcha know...
Rhiannon chirpchirps. People.. -lots- of people. White-gold wings flutter as the fire lizard plops herself down as close to the middle of the lot as she can. Clawed feet land on a table top and she cheeps inquiringly.
Ciera appropriates he klah and begins nursing the mug. Like alcohol, but less likely to make her do something stupid. "Lis has more experience, too," she volunteers once balance is regained. So many levels of interpretation, so little time.
Lyri smirks. "Ok, so you're old.. maybe that's why you can't tell." Nah-nah-nah-nah-na! Maybe calling Lis a senior citizen wasn't the wisest of moves but, when proddiness moves in, the brain takes a holiday. Jeri is given a slightly glaring look. "Who's pouting? Can't a rider enjoy a glass of wine now and then without being told what emotion she is carrying at the present moment? Honestly, when if I want others to know how I felt I would /tell/ them." Yeah.. now, where was she? Oh, right, wine.
Lis runs out of good arguments from Lyri, deciding she's won, and thus holds her nose up in the air as she struts off to perch herself on a chair. Her chin lands upon knitted fingers, and eyes peer around at lots of pretty male things - namely, that young drudge who's got enough sense of self-presevation to run away.
And Jeri loyally follows after that oh-so-maternal Lis, offering only to Lyri the comment of, a rather dejected one at that: "Fine. Yer pouty, too. So I'm gonna go be pouty with Lis!" Ah! Take that, scoundrel! Or. Whatnot. Plop goes Jeri in the seat next to Lis. "You still gonna pout?"
Caylea coughs softly, chuckling as she looks over towards her companions. Well, -she- certainly wasn't going to be frightened away by a few proddy riders. Famous last thoughts, of course. The candi clears her throat before shruging to Necha. "Perhaps it's best in this case to let them be.." She glances towards the dragonriders. "They seem to be handling it well enough." Eyes trail down towards the minigold, narrowing wearily. Those creatures dropped from the skies at random, no? At least hers were nice and warm back at Ista. A good thing for both. Caylea no longer had to worry about them, and they were still in their tropical paradise.
S'nor kicks back in his chair relaxing as he finally starts to thaw out from his flight, a smile floats across his face as he allows his eyes to droop shut as if asleep, his klah mug finding it's way to the nearest table as he just observes the happenings...
Following Cay's glance to the 'lizard Necha once again wishes she had one of those little critters. In response to Cay's statement "I do believe they can handle it themselves. 'Sides I think it'd be better to let them handle it themselves."
Lis peers at Jeri out of the corner of her eye, remarking diffidently, "Maybe I am, maybe I'm not. Though /you're/ not helping. No one's helping. It's all /Lyri's/ fault," declares the greenrider one last time before keening into a wine of, "Aww... and no wine, either." It just doesn't pay to be pregnant and proddy.
Sasha sips her klah slowly and chuckles into it. Tucking her feet beneath her she wonders again why on Pern she has allowed herself to get caught up in all this dragon business...maybe impressing a green is not a good idea....
Jeri smiles and wraps an arm around Lis' shoulders, giving her a little bit of a hug. "Aww. Poor Lissy," she sighs at her friend. "Well. Well. Uhm." Without wine, what does one have to make one happy. "I'll be here for ya. I betcha Thaz is gonna go up and chase. I just betcha." Then again, Thaz chases all the greens. So don't feel special, Aly.
"I--" Ciera starts to point something out, stopping abruptly before even her second word and seeming to think better of it. "N'ermind." Another swig of klah is downed with a shudder. All dragons should be bronze, blue, or gold, or brown. Less complicated without proddy greenriders to worry about.
Lyri wanders over and pours yet another glass of wine, making sure to be very obvious about her actions; hey, if Lis is going to blame her, she might as well get /some/ satisfaction out of it, no? "Fault.. hrmph." She mutters, flopping back into her chair and taking a drink from her glass, only to recieve a hiss from Temper. "Oh do shut up." Ouch, snippy.
But do Golds not go Proddy? Hmm... Amber eyes watch on in amused confusion. You'd think Tilarekna would have gotten enough amusement from home while watching Istans go proddy. Obviously not....
S'phen casually strides in from the Central Bowl.
Lis wriggles out of Jeri's comforting arm, popping up from her seat to pace about like a cadged feline - riders all around, and only Alymath and inescapable destiny outside. The greenrider swings near the entrance, though, and perks cheefully at S'phen's entrance. Her? Just a sweet little greenrider. Look at the /face/.
Emilia arrives from deeper in the Weyr.
S'nor thinks that proddy greenriders are... humorous to watch to say the least, he shrugs inwardly as he smiles around his klah mug, his eyes following the 'action' a brief nod is given to S'phen as he arrives...
There's another pout of Jeri and so she looks around, not feeling as perky about the other riders as her greenriding friend is. There's another loning look in Lis' direction, before it goes out again. Shard it, Aly. Rise! Rise!
S'phen walks in and takes a double take at the scene that greets him and then remembers, as much as he tried to egnore the bright glows from out side and the entrest, no matter how tired he was, trebinth took in them. "uh, hello, lis." rider smile and waves slightly to s'nore. shards, why did he always have the nack of wlking into these things.
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> Squabbling over leftovers is Thazarth.
Alymath> Blue Sakuruth, brown Trebinth, blue Jakith, and brown Pilloeth are here.
Lyri isn't looking at the others at all at the moment, oh no, she's not proddy, never gonna be.. well.. you get the picture. "Sharding.." Columbia is dislodged from her shoulder and settled in her lap as well, where she and Temper procede to create a racket that would send anyone's sanity between. "Shards and shells.. hush, both of you."
Ciera huddles in her seat, trying to avoid direct eye contact with either of the proddy riders. She's lucky--this is the first time in a while she's walked in on this sort of thing. The knack seems to have eluded her.
"Oh, /shards/," groans Lis as the scenery in her head abruply changes to the bloody scene of the pens. Fidgeting, the greenrider gives S'phen another beam as she starts to edge around him towards the entrance. They usually don't follow the scary greenriders, do they?
Alymath> Alymath is in the pens, already gorging herself with the blood of a freshly-killed buck. Bloody muzzle rises, sniffing the air tentatively - is that the smell of /man/?! -- and then the green dragon buries herself in opened stomach yet again, tongue sucking up the hot, red fluid. And the more she gets inside, the more she seems to almost expand, her hide a-glowing with brilliant pinkish green.
Skylark makes a quick turn, heading for the klah, eyes glued to the klah pot. "Klah.." she swoons, softly, pouring herself a nice, warm, sweet mug of the cinnimony substance. The first sip is always the best and so is Lark's first sip of this mug as she sighs, dreamily. Now, time to find a seat. She spots one near Tilarekna and grins at the girl, "Hey everyone," she greets, cheerily, oblivious to anything going on, even if it has to do with proddy greens which might just send her back to sleep.
Sasha's eyes glow with mischief. It looks like its all about to happen....again! It doesn't seem that long since the last time Alymath went up. She nods at the newcomer, whom she does not recognise and then allows her eyes to be dragged back to the drama unfolding before her.
Alymath> Icky. Icky. Thaz, on the other hand, is a bit more dainty, or at least more refined, his big brown lump tip-toeing through the herdbeasts, through the herdbeats, until in a way. He finds a heardbeast to slaaaaaay. Digging into the poor dear, he laps up the blood, giving an occasional glance to Aly as he feeds. yes, unfortuanaty they do follow the green riders. without a word, S'phen lets lis pass, but then steps in behind her. maybe if he could get trebinth he and him could flight out of here and leave the weyr to defind herself.
Wandering in to the cavern which she knows so well, Netra gives the crowd a bright smile and nod of her head in greeting. Brillant emerald orbs peer out at her surrounding, hoping to find her usual seat occupied and yet it has been taken. Sigh. "Indu, dear..." The gasp escapes mouth as the frightened blue 'round her neck tightens his grip. Hands pry off the tail as nanny makes her way towards table to snag herself a few meatrolls to calm the blue for once. She heaves a sigh and finds a stray seat further away and soon enough she plops down exhausted.
"Hey there, Skylark. You came just in time. Interesting things seem to be happening here" Kinecha says, while watching the scene being played out in the cavern.
Jeri is attempting to sneak closer to Lis, scooching over and over and over. Come on, Lissy. She'll sidle up against her sure enough. And if Jeri is lucky, Lis won't notice. Or at least not mind. One can hope.
Alymath> Ostentatiously lazy, Pilloeth gives a pronounced yawn before passing a selective eye over the beasts in question. Too small, too skinny. But, there! The brown jumps at a fluffy white ovine, catching with languid ease. Perfect.
Alymath> Trebinth leeps into action when the green takes her first kiss, razer sharp claw tare open the throat of an unsuspecting herdbeast and befor he had a chance, brownboy drains the life from the cridder.
Skylark lifts a curious eyebrow at Kinecha's comment, smiling deviously. So maybe it wouldn't send her back to sleep. "Oh really?," she asks, intrueged. "Like what?" The prddy greenriders and other riders are spotted and Lark leans, trying to get a glance of outside's happenings. "A flight?" she whispers, giggling, amused muchly.
Kinecha nods "I think so," first one she ever seen, so she can't be absolutely sure, of course.
Alymath> Jakith snarls, easily the most ill-tempered of the assembled males, and lunges at the first open animal--a buck, as it turns out. A thunder-like snap is given to his whip-like tail before he settles to feed, one eye on the glowing apparition that is Alymath.
Lyri hrmphs at the others. "Interesting indeed." Nothing interesting here, oooh no. Forgetting her glass, she pulls out a mostly full wineskin from under her tunic and begins to just drink from that. "All this fuss, a body can't even get a quiet moment for a drink." A? Who said this was singular?
Alymath> From his sunlit area, where he loomed as an over-large shadow cutting through the light, Sakuruth pounces almost languidly, one set of claws digging effortlessly into the neck of a herdbeast, snapping the spine with an audible *crack*, and then slicing the throat open along the jugular vein, drinking deeply of the blood that flows out. Settling down slightly, his wings remain tucked neatly against his back, but ready to snap out at a moment's notice, and the indigo blue downs life's essence like watered wine, gulping quickly, and without too much adverse effect; his eyes, though, whirl a steadily more crimsoned shade, showing the blood-color better than does his hide.
Whether they like it or not, most riders do wind up following the scary greenriders. Ciera grimaces and starts to edge after Lis, setting her klah aside. Time to switch beverages.
Alymath> Alymath suddenly seems to freeze on the spot, the damping intestines of the buck pooling around her feet and tailtip, leaving her flawless hide stained with earthy red spots. Now? Yes, /now/! Without further ado, bucks and beasts are abandoned as the glowing green rises into the air - up, up, /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> Sakuruth bursts up from the dust below.
Lis contintues to back farther, giving Jeri and S'phen a nervous little giggle as she braces her hands against the doorway. Nevermind that she's poised to make a quick getaway... Eyes dart to movement in Lyri's corner - never can trust those greenriders - but Lis goes nearly as green as her lifemate with envy, before pointing towards the inner caverns. "Look! It's D'renn!" calls she before she dashes out.
Bundle up 'gainst snow or sun! The bowl is open to seasons' wrath.
Central Bowl
Seven spindles brush the clouds -- quite literally -- overhead, a jagged, spired cotillion grey-stoned majesty. The bowl from here is expansively large, extending a full half mile in both directions, and although sometimes a bit of a stretch, most of the hubs of activity can be easily observed. Hard-packed ground shows the common pathways, all of them meandering about the craggy bunch of boulders that form a centerpiece: carven, hand-worn and foothold-full, it gives a bit of centerpoint to the otherwise vast emptiness of the area.
To the north lie the hatching grounds and leadership weyrs, while the lows of herdbeasts mark the feeding pens to the northeast. A flurry of ever-present activity marks the living caverns to the west, and another time-traveled path the ground weyrs just adjacent to the southwest. Southeast, a glint of blue shows the lake, glittering and cold.
It is a spring midmorning.
Bronze Nhamarath, green Yshanth, brown Druseth, green Miravith, brown Revnath, bronze Jhanath, brown Puizuth, and green Niamhyth are here.
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.
Alymath> Trebinth bursts up from the dust below.
Alymath> Pilloeth bursts up from the dust below.
Living Caverns> S'nor glances from his emptying mug of klah to the exiting greenrider and shrugs, "Here we go again," he sighs...
Alymath> Jakith bursts up from the dust below.
Alymath> Thazarth bursts up from the dust below.
Ciera comes into shelter from bowl's wide open spaces.
S'nor comes into shelter from bowl's wide open spaces.
S'phen comes into shelter from bowl's wide open spaces.
Quara comes into shelter from bowl's wide open spaces.
Jeri comes into shelter from bowl's wide open spaces.
And the fun begins....
S'phen follos, quietly, stalkingly. closer he attemps to come to the green rider lis, yet not to close, not yet. so much for the escape he'd wanted, trebinth was already in hot persuit.
Alymath> Oh. Okay. If she wants followers, well, she's got followers. Thazarth is up, up, and away as well, beating his big, hunky (at least in /his/ humble opinion) wings out so he can try to descend upon the green of his rider's and heck, his, affections. Heeere, Aly, Aly, Aly. Heeeere, Aly, Aly, Aly.
Alymath> Pilloeth is caught napping at Alymath's takeoff. Slow on the uptake, brown is a beat slow to leave behind the barely-tounched ovine, and muscles bunch as he springs up behind the majority of the other males. So much for a quick start. Wings catch at the air in an attempt to make up lost time.
Shells - those riders get clingier and clingier these days. Not even Lis' 'sighting' of D'renn seems to have deterred them, and she looks about for the highest pile to perch herself on, deciding on her usual wooden chest. "Make yourselves comfy," comments the greenrider dryly, slipping easily into the focus of her lifemate.
Alymath> Trebinth agrees with the other males. if she wants a perade, he'll to his part to to insure she gets what she wants. two powerfull strokes of cinamon wings bring him aloft and glideng toard alymath. your wish is my command, he seems to say, and your demand is chase?
Sauntering in, Quara looks a bit disheveled, clasping a mostly-full skin of wine with the Vintner's stamp partially visible. A hand is run through her hair to rearrange the haphazard curls; the other smooths her shirt and tugs neatly at the vest, as well. "Don' know why I bother, y'know?" she remarks, to everyone in general. "It'll all come right off again, of course." But she finishes her neatening, and then takes a lounging stance 'gainst one of the walls, suitably near to Lis, as she rather blatantly ogles those males in the room. Here, boys. Come and play...
Ah. The routine. The wooden chest. It's all coming back to her now. Oh yes, Jeri hasn't gotten in on a Lis flight in a long time. But it's just like yesterday when they -- they. Uhm. Well. Jeri's just going to sit on the floor near Lis, looking up at her longing. But even Quara gets a loving leer.
Alymath> Jakith is like lightning form the ground, stormclouds roiling as he lurches into the air. No tender, loving suitor, he, but a angry whirlwind in blue. Careless talons scuffle entrails in takeoff, the only impeiment to a clean start.
S'nor finds himself a wall to lean against and, as usual, appear to doze his mind floating else where at the moment a smug smile coming to his face as he echo's his lifemate's feelings...
S'phen stops a few feet away from the chest and leans against the wall. jacket slides off and top few buttons are undone on the brownrider's shirt... it was getting warm in here for somereason. someone forget it's spring, not summer?
Ciera doesn't even make the attempt to get close to Lis. No stalking of greenriders, here--unusually surly, she lets her dragon do the chasing as she appropriates the double-prop of a corner.
Alymath> Sakuruth springs up moments after the green, tongue snaking out to clean the remaining droplets of blood to make him look a bit less obviously rabid. Insanity should be subtle, eh? And so he arcs up, as high as he can get; at the apex of his powerful leap, wide wings snap open with a crack to match the herdbeast's neck, and he begins to chase in earnest. His flight, though, is relaxed, peacable, natural, as if he's merely sporting. Allow him his eccentricities; they do manage to propel him with admirable celerity.
Alymath> Alymath indeed does demand chase - and fro her wild aerial spins, it looks as if she's going to /be/ chased. Of course she is; after all, who's the one with glowing hide, and who are the uselessly following suitors? A high-pitched bugle rings out against the scene of flight, her tone a husky promise of things to be. But only to the fastest, bravest and smartest...
Alymath> Who will be the...High Reaches /Survivor/? Thazarth. Well. He's okay in the speed department. Speed. No handling, the sucker. Darn browns. Brave, sure, but perhaps not the smartest, which might account as to why he has the former. Oh. Shucks, just flap and /fly/! He tries not to follow the rolls, bugling back at her. Darn it, if she can make sounds, he can /too/!
Alymath> Trebinth dives almost strait down before he flares his wings and glids along on a lower, yet faster air curent toard alymath. after gliding for a few seconds this low and gaining considerable distance, the brown shoots strait up, almost strait anyway with a 45 degree incline. as he approach he lest loose with a bugal that dies before it gets started. almost 12 turns does have it's effects on the voice. but a second try atleast produces a squeek.
Alymath> Chase is given, though perhaps not in the manner preferred. Jakith answers the promising bugle with a tempermental rumble, frustration mounting as speed is ousted by more acrobatic displays. Lightning travels fast, but it doesn't rank high in the maneuverability department. Early advantage is cancelled as the fumbling blue tries to keep up with twists and spins, a wing-wrenching battle for a lead.
Alymath> Useless? Not bloody likely. Well, bloody, certainly, but so is she. And likely, too, if he has his way; to catch is the only good way to end a flight. And with that in mind, he lets out a laconic reply, low and rumbling, and vaguely resembling laughter, all the while continuing in his progress. Bravery, of course, is a given, and speed as well; he's dodged Thread with barely a scar in four Turns of flying. And intelligence is obvious; he Impressed Quara, not Pyrene, after all.
Off goes Lis' cardigan, slithering to the floor in a mass of soft wool to leave her in her rather conservative maternity dress, arms folding in between her lump and her bustline - both considerable forces to reckon with. Luckily, she can't get at any ties to untie easily, so they're spared from any more stripping.
Alymath> Practice pays off, counterbalancing a slow start. Pilloeth is far form useless, and those extraneous displays of aerial skill have at last come into play. Glee replaces drowsiness in eyes as the pace quickens and the tricks begin, brown moving with considerable agility for his size and temperament.
Alymath> Unwilling as she might be, Alymath's pace slowly becomes less headlong; a slow arpeggio of green tunes 'gainst blue composition of the clear spring sky. Turning her head to watch those remaining followers, green throat vibrates in a husky bugle, and she suddenly folds her wings, letting herself glide 'tween blue, brown and bronze.... who will it be?
Taking a much-needed gulp from her wineskin, Quara looks about, surveying those nearby, and the appropriate question comes out of her mouth. "S'anyone need some wine? Lissie? Ciera?" She's really very caring, of course. Yupyup. And so she dangles the container from her fingers, extending it in invitation to all nearby; it's just that Lis obviously needs some, and Ciera doesn't look so cheerful. And alcohol is so useful for making one happy.
S'phen steps closer to lises hiding place. only a fw step but each step closer his heart beets a tad faster till she is almost, but not quite there...
Pant, pant. Weyrs should come with climate control. Ciera sheds her jacket, loosens the catchs and fastenings of her shirt in the abrupt heat that seems to have enveloped the ground weyr. Rider is starting to reflect dragon's intensity, it seems.
S'nor things the 'heater' might have gotten stuck in the 'on' possition, but the heat just makes it a little more cozy to 'doze' up against the wall, his eyes open just a bit as he eyes the stripping Greenrider, he takes a step away from the wall and towards the crazed greenrider his jacket falling against the wall where he was leaning...
Alymath> And. And. Fine, Aly! Just do that! See if Thaz cares! Hint! He does! But then he soars on down over and whirlling and looping, trying to sidle up to the green, just like his lifemate is trying to snuzzle on up next to Aly's lifemate. Perhaps Thaz we'll have a bit more success.
Jeri considers. Stripping. Hrm. Jacket. Bad. Jacket bad. And so, said jacket comes off, revealing her rather low-cut tunic, which she put on /just for Lis/ today. She knew it would be coming around soon enough. Just waitin' for the day. And so, she continues to look up at Quara, outstreching her hand for the skin, taking it and taking a slug. She needs it.
Alymath> Pilloeth's answering vocalization ranges more towards lullaby tune than arpeggio, but the underlying purpose is the same. Reckless pace is abandoned with glee, and he loops back and under in an attempt to follow, all trace of dull sleepiness washed away in the heat of the moment as he doubles after the glowing beacon and gives and extra kick of much-vaunted skill. Look what he can do.
Alymath> oof, what's this? her wish is to be caught up to eh? Trebinth knows just hold to make that wish into his command. fly much slower, look to much ferther back and you'll fall from the sky like a falling star and we sure can't have that. not with so many males up to help eas the fall. question is, will you let me, trebinth ol boy? Trebinth maches the gree's speed and drops slightly lower and banks under alymath, taill outstretchd, paws splaid for suport, the perfect cradel for a babe tired and ready for rest.
Lis squints hard, eyelids determined to keep eyeballs from popping out, or some such. If one could will their lifemate on any harder than Lis, they'd probably pop something imporant. For once, the greenrider manages to look innocent and vulnerable - having taken some tips from M'rin, naturally - with her arms suddenly thrown around her knees and face tucked into her lap.
Alymath> Alymath's sudden slowing brings Sakuruth up short, as the blue's wingstrokes momentarily falter. And then, shrugging it off, he angles for her, hoping that perhaps, with his already superior abilities enhanced by the euphoric rush of a flight, it'll be his turn to catch the emerald-bright green. Everyone else has had a turn, it seems; and now it'd better be his turn to catch the randiest dragon in the Weyr. The one with the rider to match.
Alymath> This last maneuver, at least, has not caught Jakith unawares. Dual fires of fury and flight burn in his eyes as he tries to follow Alymath's path, attempting to whip his body after the slowing blur of green. A rumble, distant impending thunder, breaks through his bugle as he twists to angle after, a beeline for the green despite all his rider's reservations.
S'phen makes the final steps toard lis, one hand stretched out, the brwonrider no visably holding back to await the outcome of the flight. all the buttons on his tunic have been undone now and the heat was... well...building.
S'nor hesitates as he takes another step towards Lis to join the forming circle, a handfull more buttons are loosened on his tunic without his noticing as he's still half with his lifemate...
Jeri can't be left without a part in this circle-forming madness. She too begins to undo her tunic, even if her bits that are left under that tunic are the naughty ones. The buttons are undone finally, and her tunic hangs open as she forms the circle the boys and Lis.
"Wine?" the offer registers belatedly with Ciera, but she picks up on it. "Wine. Yes. Please." Taking a quick swig, she reluctantly close in to join the circle with the other riders. Might as well get it over with.
Quara was already close to Lis. Gotta plan ahead, see. And so she just sidles a little closer, leaving a trail of clothing behind her: boots, socks, vest, gloves, jacket... All are in a ramshackle heap while she shimmies on up to Lis, in a little half-dance, passing her wineskin along. Wine is good, see. And Quara shares the wealth.
Alymath> Superior abilities are something that should not be left disregarded, and together with the europhia of the flight, Alymath is exhausted, and quite willing to let herself fall into the waiting wings of /him/, Sakuruth. Now here's randy for you, boy! Green neck twines 'round blue, and they drop down, together, in unison....
Lis' eyes fly open as Alymath lets go of her immediate conciousness, and the first thing she notices is lots of bare chests in front of her. Guy chest, guy chest, girl chest... wait. The greenrider blinks, not sure whether to tackle the three around her or call out plaintively for her Quara. Deliberation rests in her eyes, but no hint shows in the crooked grin spreading on her face as she stands.
Alymath> Oh. Feh. Poor Thazarth is left /all awone/ and not even able to get a green to call his own this evening. Shardit, shardit, shardit. But he lazily swings around back towards the ground. One down. But gosh, there was another glowing one, wasn't there?
Alymath> Sakuruth is more than willing to twine necks with the green; it's been far too long since she's even gone up that he remembers. And so he falls as well, contentedly... or at least he'll be content soon. Mrowr.
Alymath> Trebinth crokes his tail again, relaxes his paws and lazily drifts back toard the weyr. they'll be others later.
Alymath> Trebinth drops into the pens.
Alymath> Thazarth drops into the pens.
Quara is all too willing to make up Lis's mind for her, as the bluerider wriggles through to get right up with her very favorite clutchmate. At least for the moment. And, without further ado, she pounces; sorry, fellas!
Alymath> Pilloeth drifts in atight spiral down to the weyr, speeding up as he drops, bringing himself up short right before he slams in to the ground and then flying over to find himself a nice comfortable place to land and rest...
S'nor checks his almost-step foward and watches Lis, as Quara makes her move he takes a step back, the cold starting to creep in to his bones again...
But. But. Jeri wore her low-cut tunic and /everything/. A definate pout falls over her face and she buttons it back up, her randiness overridden by her hurt. Fine, Lis. Be that way. "I'm gonna wait for that other cutie," she says affirmatively.
Lis isn't very sorry at all - she gets a Quara again. "Didn't we do this /last/ time I was pregnant?" complains the greenrider before she's in no mood to whine about anything anymore. And to the fellas... there's always Lyri?
S'phen pulls his hand back to alow lis to stand without obstruction and closes his eyes for a moment as the greenrider is clamed. turning around the brownrider slowly walks toard his jacket with a look over his shoulder at the other girls. .. no, not now. picking up his jacket he heads out with little more than a wave. S'phen leaves healers' enclave for the central bowl.
Alymath> With a last growl as he overshoots widely, Jakith pulls into a spiral and drops away, thunderclouds accumulating on his face to match those on his hide. Time to sulk. And exhort compliments form a much-relieved lifemate, of course.
Alymath> Jakith goes home.
S'nor glances from S'phen's exit to the.... two on the floor, then he snags his Jacket and throws it on to stave off the cold as he quickly returns to the 'Caverns to warm up.... *sighs* again...
S'nor leaves healers' enclave for the central bowl.
Alymath> Pilloeth drops into the pens.
Jeri gives another little pout, looking back at the very randy pair, and then a little whimper, but then sighs and marches out, wanting to win Lyri's for sure. She'll show them! She will! She will!
Jeri leaves healers' enclave for the central bowl.