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Logfile from G'deon
January 20th - 21st, 2001
Ashtyn stares after Christina for a few moments after she's gone, sipping from his glass.
Tatia blinks at Hyzen. "You know, dancing's really quite fun," she attempts pragmatically, head tilting toward the crowd. "You ought to try it." Beam. She's safe now that N'sync is gone.
Sraine tries to keep the tortured look off of her face by chanting in her own mind: It's for Hyzen, it's for Tatia, it's for everyone. "Let's make this quick, okay?" she murmers, sounding just as displeased as she felt. "And DON'T try anything funny." The quiet rider usually isn't this direct...but she HAS to make an exception this time.
Nylanth> A purr is sent Nylanth's direction as the the green gives one last might shove and tumbles through the doors, skidding to a stop in the great hall. Fortunately, most people are in the harper hall and not watching a green move herself into a Hold, but that doesn't mean there aren't a few curses, muffled cries, and scurries as people run out of her way. Nylanth again gets a glance over her shoulder as Vespurath shoves herself up against the wall, turning so that she can stick her head out in order to croon Ny's direction.
Londo puffs out his chest and disappears ::between::.
<Local> Nylanth senses that Vespurath sends an entreating tone of bright sugary sweets. <<Come in, Nylanth! There's enough room for everyone.>> Just nevermind the fact that there /isn't/...
"Quick?" N'sync leers down at Sraine as he wraps one arm around her waist, yanking her close. "Of course not, dearie.. I'll be sure you get your full turn, don't worry." As the music continues, N'sync begins to dance.. sort of. Kind of. At least, they're swaying.. that counts, right.
G'deon again manages to flag down a passing drudge and swipes a glass from her tray, winking as he does so, naturally. Never mind what the drink is. He turns back to the 'Reachers, eyebrows rising slightly as N'sync and Sraine enter the dance floor. "Ne'er thought I'd see that," he comments to no one in particular before taking a sip of the drink. Ahh, wine. "Reminds me of the Smith hall."
Nylanth> Astarte shakes her head "I can't tell the jouneymen this.. They would say I was drinking and I'd be sleeping int he sea caves again for sure!" she checks her temp gives a look at Triton to be sure he is seeing this too.
Heero lied, he does move from his stationary brooding spot at the wall, sidling up behind Melsa with a silence that's archetypal. "Melsa." Who else? A dissapproving glance is sent toward the High Reachian weyrlings. Dragonriders. Pft. Nevermind Mel's one.
Nylanth> Nylanth sends confused croons to Vespurath, but nonetheless follows, his own head following hers through the Great Doors. With a shove, then a mighty push, the young bronze manages to get his shoulders through, and not a bit more.
Hyzen jerks a thumb towards N'sync and Sraine, sighing softly. "He wants to dance with me... but he's icky." Eyes lock upon Melsa's trusted face. "Sraine saved me by dancing with him... but he'll be back. I know it." Now, Tatis gets a glower. "Maybe, but I'd like to see /you/ dance with him... then you might change your mind. He was chasing us around Ilare's weyr, remember?" Shuddering, she keeps an eye on N'sync. No touching... or he just might get it from a certain male messanger that was rather really attatched to Sraine. And that certain male wouldn't care about a certain dragon.
Tatia offers an exagerated shiver as she glances toward Hyzen. "Me either.. what on Pern made her decide to /dance/ with him?" she questions of her fellow greenrider. "Earlier she wouldn't dance at all.. and now with /him/?" Her eye is caught by G'deon's drink and she is reminded that she could do with one of her own.. a hand raises to wave after the retreating drudge.
Sraine squeaks in surprise as she's suddenly yanked forward. OKay...this was a bad idea. Is it too late to back out? Squeak. Brownrider isn't -that- weak however, having a -few- muscles of her own--however, that probably wouldn't help considering how the other rider probably had more. Shoving a little away from N'sync, she feels like glaring..and nearly does. Her face can't quite contort that way yet..it's still too disgusted. When was the song going to be over? "Back off a little." She murmers, trying to squirm a LITTLE distance between them. She didn't like this.
Nylanth> Vespurath is shoved backwards by the force of the bronze's entry, but that's alright. An annoyed snort accompanies her movement, but that done and said and all of that, the green snakes her head forward, nudging open the door that leads to the ballroom. Not only are there sounds quite obviously coming from there, as well as music, but Tatia's mind leads Vesp there as well. Helpful, that.
The sounds of the two gitars swirl together, echoing around the room. The rhythm pulses and the melody dances, lending a constant speed to varying volumes. It doesn't take long, however, for the song to come to an end; Sorcen doesn't want to put too much pressure on the other gitarist for her first performance. With a nod, he indicates the outro to her, and the two jointly end the song. After that, they make way once again for the quartet to retake the stage.
<Local> Nylanth senses that Vespurath's tone whirls with amusement, chuckles sounding like tinkling bells in the back of her mindvoice. <<You can't fit! You're too big. That's alright. You can put your head through the door with me.>> See, Vesp's got it all figgered out.
Nylanth> Astarte can't seem to take her eyes off of the dragons, although she knows better than to go repeating tales about dragons going into holds.
A group takes to the stage quietly, a string quartet accompanied by no more than the necessary background noise of moving four string instruments and their attached humans into position to play. Once they settle, there is a brief pause.
<Local> Nylanth senses that he sends rather annoyed whisps of yellow in a sea of stormy blue. << I'm stuck! >>
Hms? Heero? Lied? Nyah. He's not part of the scene -or so his recent move towards her suggests.. Yes. Pft. Bad 'riders.. er.. yes.. She can say that simply for the fact she is one, and knows the insanity it involves.. We desist on that thought. "Hmm. " Blink. Azurite optics soon focus in on Heero's face- ever so.. .. Anyway.. "Heya, sweets." She purrs with a tone that casts an innuendo of a sugar-high. She'll be a handful at one point or another before this night ends. Dancing.. She may not fair well in it, but it elates her none the less.. "You're here!" Yes. It clicked, and so did the concept to try n' hug poor Heero. Erf. There goes the arms, in their throttling-death-hold to try n' fling 'round neck of her weyrmate. Oh for the love of... (Melsa)
Nylanth> Nylanth wiggles his rear end, trying unsuccessfully to pull himself out.
<Local> Nylanth senses that Vespurath sends protestation at the bronze, <<NO no! Don't leave. Just put your head through the door.>> And with that, Vesp nudges it all the way open, whirling eyes popping into the ballroom itself.
Heero winces lightly, hands positioned at her hips as the air is thrust out of him. Gasp. "Yes, Melsa, I am here, aren't I?" They're a swell pair -- she makes the brilliant deductions, he repeats them. "Would you care to dance?" Or just, y'know, throttle him?
The string quartet slides into action slowly, the cello taking the melody for an introductory solo. Not precisely slow, the music gives no impression of speed, just fullness; no pauses leave hollows in the stately waltz whose paces the instrument treads.
The door of the ballroom opens once again, but this time, a person doesn't come through. No, a green snout comes through. Accompanied by the rest of the green's head and her whirling eyes as well. Those eyes are filled with humor, each facet appearing to be having just a blast. No wait...that's not right...why the SHELL is there a dragon head in here? That's just not right. Vespurath's head croons, sending a harmonic warble to contend with the musicians up on stage. Ooops...
"Then how're you going to learn to dance, sweeting?" N'sync draws as he places his other hand firmly across her back and pulls her toward him again. "You've got to feeeeel the rhythm." Feel it? He sways vaguely to the music, forcing Sraine after him. Oh gee. You're wildest dreams have just come true.. you're /dancing/ with /N'sync/.
Nylanth> Astarte stands up from the beach, offering a concerned look for the dragon. What would *she* do if the dragon were stuck?
Nylanth> Nylanth tries, he really does, but his shoulders are much /much/ broader than Vespurath's! A cry, no, a bleat really, emits from the desperate bronze's head, well inside the hold by now.
Sudanna walks in through an arch from the great hall.
Ashtyn jumps up, surprised at the appearance of a dragon.. in a hold?!? He looks through the door to see if anything could be wrong.
Joining the music quietly, the remaining instruments complete the quartet. The first violin gracefully claims the melody from the cello, who yields it with equal grace. The song drifts through the room with a smooth motion, a gentle rocking supported by rich harmonies.
Is throttling a true choice? Or would she just get yelled at later.. or get to take home some lifeless corpse? Er. Well. She'll take, "Sure! We can dance." Is that a good idea? Is Heero-boy wearing steel toed boots? Smiths do not dance for good reason.. Melsa lightly lets her enfoldment of her arms 'round sinew-corded neck slide away till fingertips lightly brush his collar bone, resting there as head cants to the side. "Ah've not danced in a while." Dear lord. Break out the steel-toed boots.. She, fortuitously pernicious -it's all those sugar sticks' fault.. And/or the lump of sterling she calls Xhuryth. No matter, everyone loves dancing.. Lips quickly dart forward to try and plant a small kiss on the poor brooding-boy's nose. Hyper thing. Really, Melsa is.
Nylanth> Vespurath simply goads the bronze on, her head withdrawing from the room for a moment in order to croon at said bronze before she sticks it promptly back in. In roder to join the festivities, donchaknow.
Nylanth> Astarte walks to where the bronze is stuck "Okay. Don't panic. I don't know what to do but Ill find someone who can help you" she tries to say in a soothing voice, though it comes out a little shaky.
<Local> Nylanth senses that he thinks << Vespurath! I'm stuck! This had better be worth it... >> The bronze sends a barrage of confused pictures, some of unmucked stalls from early on, some of crashing dragons, though where he came up with those is unclear. << Give me a push, eh? >>
<Local> Nylanth senses that Vespurath's tone is definitely concerned, but not all that much. Instead, it's blithe. <<Don't worry Ny. Just go with it. Just put your head into the room with me. G'deon and Tatia are having such fun!>> A confused spiral of color returns with that one. <<I'm inside, Ny. I can't push you. I think Shippith's out there. Or Scgath. Get one of them to push you.>> After all, she wants him /in/.
"You know, I really don't think that..." Tatia's absent remark on N'sync and his antics are interrupted suddenly as she follows the sudden flurry of gazes toward the door.. and spies a /very/ familiar head. And let's not mention that croon... Tatia jumps, letting out a quite audible yelp. Good think she didn't get that glass.. because she would have just dropped it. "/Vespurath/!" The green's name is bellowed across the room as the weyrling stares at her lifemate... she's so surprised that the green even gets the full-name treatment. "What are you /doing/?"
The great green head ducks out of the room for a moment and if one was near enough, one might hear a croon toward something outside. However, as her name is called again, the green ducks back into the hall, eyes whirling bright once again. Another croon is sent toward her lifemate and the green begins to move her head cautiously forward into the Hall in order to better get close to Tatia. And explain, of course. Never mind the stuck bronze out there.
As the melody of the song slides slowly upward in pitch, the harmonies lift to buoy it further. The violin sways on the sea of sound beneath it, carrying across the crowd with the distinctive rhythmic feel of the waltz.
Triton comes sailing through the doorway at (for a firelizard) breakneck speed and begins flying around frantically, chittering at everyone in the room.
Nylanth> Nylanth wiggles and jiggles, trying hopelessly to get inside the hall, but he's just to big, ya, fer sure. With the last final push though he gets his shoulders even more snuggly fit in the great doors ("great" is relative) and pushes his head through the next set, along with Vespurath.
Sudanna walks to the Great Hall.
Heero rolls his eyes patiently, expression deadpan and lifeless -- except perhaps his eyes which glow with something fiercely intense; annoyance or affection. Or both. "Someone's dragon has shoved her head in here," he observes quietly, his gliding, graceful movement softening the roughness of hers'. He can dance. He can mamba. He macarena your socks off. He's Heero. He gently moves into the steps of the waltz, still drifting; his pace is measured and slow.
"Nylanth!" G'deon says, not quite echoing Tatia. His eyes flash with concern however. "How in Faranth's name..." He downs the rest of his wine and hurries as quickly as he can over to his impeding bronze.
Triton continues chittering and, seeing G'deon, flies over to the dragonrider, chittering at him in a quite paniced fasion.
The first violin fades backwards into the piece and down into the range of the harmonies, submerging the melody for a moment until the cello emerges from beneath the other instruments. The backup which exalted the violin now suppresses the cello, pressing its melody downwards.
"You are /not/ dancing.. /Vesp/... /what/...." Tatia's at a loss for words.. instead her jaw works axiously, not sure how she's /ever/ going to keep her dragon out of building after this. "Ny?" And so she shifts her attention, groaning as she flies after G'deon. "Don't tell me /Nylanth's/ coming in too...?" Oh. Too late. "Shards." The breathed word is all that comes to mind. What /is/ she supposed to do?
That's just ... scary.. Heero doing the macarena? /NO/ world or time period or life time is ready to see that.. Jays, No one is ready to see the macarena ever again.. Lets leave that dance in the dirt. Cimmerian optics of scintillating lapis slightly narrow as her nose crunches up, "You've /blue/ eyes." Oh boy. Observant as Hee-chan... Hmm. .Bellow? Oh. .wait! That was.. Erf? That quietly distracting her at the peek and pop in green muzzle -she'd dare bellow 'Xhuryth', but for once, her green is behaving.. Distance between herself and Heero idly closed as their motions somehow coalescent to a dance -or a sway which could emerge in to a dance... Whatever... Melsa's brows remain arched before trailing tailed look from doors where that surprise guest had been and to that of Heero. "That was.. Not Xhu." Interesting. Really.
Juperon blinks in from ::between::!
Nherys grins rakishly as she calls out to the 'rider whose mount seems to've...joined the fun, "She seems...to be sticking her head in?" Leave it to Nher to point out the obvious. Aheh. Eyebrow raises at G'deon's call, and the firelizard's antics, and Nherys pokes at Renrow..."Woul' ye look at this? Seems like somethin' interesin's finally happenin', here...huh..." Riiight...
Heero and the macarena don't mix. Nor do dragons and ballrooms, but hey, they made that work -- macarena your heart out, Heero. Kya.
G'deon glances up at the chittering blue firelizard, his own face already filled with worry, earned or not. He tries as politely as possible to make his way over to his lifemate, trying not to intrude on the dancing. "Oh, shards, he's /stuck/!" Just what the weyrlings need, a bronze stuck in a door, and no rider to pull him out. "Yes, Nylanth, I'll try to push, but I doubt that'll help much."
Green head is shoved over as a rather larger bronze one makes its appearance as well. Rumble. That's quite nice, those heads all in there, squeeshed and -- oh what now? A whuffle of air is blown at the agitated firelizard, but Tatia gets a snort. She is /too/ dancing. Grump. Tatia doesn't have to do anything. Vespurath, instead, shoves her head closer to the now-not-dancing Tat, crooning at her and alternately warbling a little harmonic to the music. Ain't she cute? Not to mention the havok she's wreaking. G'deon also receives a snort.
The pendulous motion of the waltz continues as the quartet sinks lower in pitch, the cello leading a descent pressed by the other instruments; their echoing descent disallows any balancing upward modulation. The gradual sink continues the easy sway of the rhythm, falling like a leaf in still air.
G'deon suddenly bursts out laughing as he glances from Nylanth, to Vespurath, to Tatia. "Um... perhaps we should take this... dance, elsewhere," he proposes, glancing back at the other dancers.
"Stuck?" Tatia stares at G'eon blankly as she reaches his side. "They're /stuck/?" This just gets worse and worse.... Her wide-eyed gaze swings up to Vespurath, and she shakes her head violentl. "Noooo.. Vesp, you /can't/ come in here! How're you going to get /out/? How're we gonna get /home/?" Gaze swings helplessly to G'deon as she spreads her hands, shrugging. "/How/?"
Nylanth> Astarte runs down the beach and returns a few moments later with some of the oils they put on the firelizard. "It's only two pails" she tells herself, wondering if it will be enough.. and, if she is allowed to use it.
Nylanth> Nylanth wiggles from time to time, his tail swinging with no discrimination from side to side.
The cello falls back in its descent, and the other instruments catch up, subsuming the unquiet shuttle back into the weave of the song. No real melody dominates as the music rises back towards its origin, but a combination of all the instruments' sounds slides upwards, threads of the music slipping into the melody behind them.
G'deon ducks underneath Nylanths head and out the doors, rolling up his sleeves as he goes.
Nylanth> Astarte stands way back, unwilling to be smashed by the dragons tail. "Well, I would help you" she yells "but, one, your rider would probably kill me and two, your tail threatens to turn me into a stain."
['LingChan] R'ave waits for Gid and Tat to try and butter the dragons to get'm unstuckified.
"G'deon? /G'deon/!" Tatia stomps after him, peering under Nylanth's head. "Where are you /going/? Aren't you supposed to have big muscles? Get them /out/ of here!" That's it.. blame the bronzerider.
['LingChan] G'deon: good idea
['LingChan] Tatia thinks we'll have to...
Sya walks in.
Vespurath isn't stuck. In fact, she's /in/ the great hall, but we don't have to mention that, now do we? Instead, the green's head continues to bob up and down regardless of the people that are diving out of the way of it. Typical selfishness. She's a child at heart, is she not? Calming croon is directed almost distraactedly at Tatia. Quite obviously, the green isn't in the least worried.
Once again, the violin emerges from the group, its sound rising above the anchoring solidity of the trio below it. Ascending smoothly, it remains rooted only by the rhythmic certainty of the waltz, the melody fully in its control.
Sraine is trying to push away from N'sync now, trying to get a better view of the commotion she can HEAR out there but not see. What was going on? "I already now HOW to dance." She nearly seethes. Good grief this was embarrassing! She didn't want to be doing this anymore! And she wanted to see what everyone was fussing about and she couldn't do that while pinned to an extremely disgusting rider's chest!
From afar, Tatia just /has/ to share this... Vespurath thinks to you, << I don't think Nylanth should have to leave. I could get him out, but I don't want him to leave. >> Green notes with a definitely smug note to her tone, deep, mincemeat pie smells obvious in her tone at that point. << We will get home. I am not stuck. I am in the hall outside. Nylanth is stuck because. >> And echoing snigger, << He's so big. >>
You go to the Great Hall.
Great Hall (#6286)
With a dome-shaped ceiling reaching up almost beyond the light cast by numerous
glows surrounding the hall, this room can be none other than the Hold's great
hall. The floor is solid grey stone, slightly worn from the hundreds of Turns
of use it's been through. Four `tapestries' hang around the hall at seemingly
random intervals, coloring the otherwise dull hall. An assortment of tables
and chairs and couches are strewn about the hall for any who wish to take a
rest during their labors, but mostly people are using the great hall as a center
for moving to other places. Archways and doors lead everywhere, but the most
dominant doors are the great double doors to the east, leading out to the courtyard.
Gliding around is Red Baron.
Obvious exits:
Great Doors -- Flying Mug -- Dining Hall -- Shops -- Guard Office -- Stairs
-- Crafthalls -- Rooms
You pass through the great doors into the courtyard.
Ista Hold Main Courtyard (#1407)
Built into the side of a hard granite cliff, Ista Hold looms dominantly to the
west. Windows pock the smooth surface of the cliff in neat rows until they get
closer to the ground, where they begin to frame the great bronze doors leading
into the Hold itself. A sea breeze seems constantly in the air here as the ocean
and the wharf lay but dragonlengths to the east. Beaches are scattered to the
north, recreational areas for the Hold's residents when not working.
It is a spring evening.
Above, you see Fellrath and Xhuryth.
Perched on a windowsill are Sofia, Infinity, Romain, Blazer, Hercules, Quelm,
Hyde, and Triton.
Brown Hoth, brown Ganth, bronze Nylanth, green Vespurath, and green Berwynth
are here.
You see Nemesis, Tierro, Chestnut, Small tent, Tent, OOC Rules, Hemp Hammock,
and Duvessa here.
Astarte is here.
Obvious exits:
Ista Hold Dock -- Main Beach -- Great Doors -- Guard Office -- Stables -- Traders'
Courtyard
You walk down a few steps into the courtyard.
G'deon pokes his head through the /very/ narrow gap left by his weyr mate and the supposedly immense doors. "Excuse me!" he calls out. "Do you have oil? Butter will do!"
Astarte look at the man who she assumes to be the bronzes rider "I have these" she offers up the pails of sweet oil. "We use them for our firelizards here"
"Gid?" The sound floats from somewhere behind the bronzerider as Tatia slides into the great hall with her dragon. "Should I go to the kitchen and see what they have? It's off the great hall, so I think I can get in..."
Astarte she adds "If its not enough, We have plenty of fish slime.. though that should really be a last resort"
<Local> Nylanth senses that Vespurath's tone holds determination. <<I'll getcha loose, Ny. Jus' hold real still...>> The green instructs, her voice more than a little professional.
G'deon glances back at Tatia and grins, the obvious amusement all but dancing in his eyes before he looks back at Astarte. "That will be perfect!" he replies. Anything to get Nylanth out of this pickle he's gotten himself into. "Just... start spreading it on Nylanth's hide next to the door. Don't worry, he can't bite you." Yet.
Vespurath has already withdrawn her head from the hall at that point and is now backing herself up against the far wall of the great hall, much to the protestations of the others that inhabit the hall at that point. With a little trumpet, the green starts forward, dashing in order to run headlong into Nylanth. Outside her head pops through the space above Ny's shoulders so that it's hovering above the bronze's back whilst she strains to pop him loose. Vesp has no such concern for his hide, it seems.
Aeryn blinks in from ::between::!
Astarte approaches the dragon meekly and begins rubbing the oil, like she did with the brown dragon awhile back. She timidly asks "He wont swipe me with his tail, will he?" as her blue firelizard chitters around her.
<Local> Nylanth senses that he doesn't quite seem to trust the green, no matter how long they've known each other... which would be their whole lives of course. << Just don't push too hard... yet >> the young one replies. Can't hurt his precious hide, now can you?
<Local> Nylanth senses that Berwynth is somewhat curious, somewhat disdainful -- and mostly asleep. << You are odd. >> That's her tart contribution.
"Vesp! Whoa!" Tatia, at least, is concerned about poor Nylanth's hide. "At least let me go get.. go get some.. /arg/!" Throwing her hands up, she stalks away from her dragon to slide through the kitchen door. Loud voices can be heard in the direction of Tat's retreat, but eventually she returns, lugging a large bucket with her. "They would.. they wouldn't give me any oil," she notes as she drops the bucket next to G'deon with a *thump* Hey. The sucker's heavy. "But I got butter?"
Kazandar walks in from the beach.
"Butter works. Better than nothing," G'deon replies, trying really hard at this point to remain serious. "Okay, just give me a big... glob of the stuff." That's the word right?
Hyzen squeezes out another doorway with Sraine in tow, eyes instantly locking onto the dragons. Oh dear. Marching to Tatia and G'deon, she frowns. "This is bad..." Duh. Don't mind her... she needs sleep. Letting Sraine's arm drop, she slowly shakes her head. "Anything I can do to help?" She watches as Imbriath saunters towards the group from somewhere else, curious as always to see the action.
Above, Imbriath takes off from Gather Meadow
Above, Imbriath glides gracefully down to the Courtyard.
Imbriath glides gracefully down and settles in the Courtyard.
Astarte continues to pour the oil around the bronze, in the area he is stuck in the doorway. She pours it as high as she can reach and, taking up the other bucket, moves to his other side.
Sraine gets tugged along by Hyzen, eyeing the predicament the dragons have gotten themselves into. From the jist of the situation, it sounds like they're planning on using something slick to get them out. Reeeal keen observation there Ine. "If you need something oily, just come to me." She mutters. "I'm sure N'sync left loads." Shudder shudder. "Anything I can do to help?"
Nylanth tries to back out. He pushes with his front paws, he pulls with his back. Nothing can seem to budge him from this obvious lack of foresight. After a command from Gid however, the bronze keeps his tail as still as can be, what with the extreme distress and all.
Tatia isn't having to try too hard.. she can't decide whether to glower or glare or /what/.. but she's not real happy about this. "Glob. Right." Digging her hand into the bucket, she emerges with a handful of butter. She jerks her head to the right, sending her braid flipping safely out of the way over her shoulder as she straightens and shoves the glob at G'deon. "This'd better work..."
Croooooon. The green continues to strain against the bronze in order to pop him loose, still ignorant of the fact that it might scrape him up. She's strong and she can get him out of there and that's really all that matters, isn't it? Of course. Green head that is poking out on either side offers a comforting whuffle the bronze's direction as well.
<Local> Nylanth senses that Vespurath's tone is lashed with excitement, undeniably, and bells chime with laughter in the back of that mindvoice. <<Nylanth, you're stuck.>> Talk about stating the obvious. <<But I can unstick you.>> Pause. <<Probably.>> 'nother pause. <<Maybe.>> Doubt continues to tinge the green's voice a little more each time she has to amend her cocky attitude.
Astarte finishes off the last of the second pail and runs down the beach again, returning with two more large pails of oil. "This is the last of them. After this, its fish slime" her nose wrinkles at the thought."
Yeah, no kidding. Otherwise R'sli will have their hides. "Alright Nylanth, we're going to oil you down quickly. Just... try to relax." Right. "We'll try to push from this side. Vespurath will help, right?" he adds, glancing back at the weyrlings. (Gid)
<Local> Nylanth senses that he thinks << Please! >> comes the almost (/almost/) desperate plea. << I can't be stuck here forever! What good would I do stuck on the ground?? >>
Sraine fidgets, not sure how she can help. "Do you need me to get Akilth? He could help if you need it?" Although what he would do is still beyond her... Maybe pull from the other side? Ah who knew. She wants to do SOMETHING to help.
Kazandar jogs up towards everyone and then just...stops. Jaw hanging loosely he can't help but stare. Really, how often do you see a doorway stuck around a dragon and people trying to butter him out? Not often. After a few moment of gawking he regains /some/ control and closes his mouth. He didn't /really/ think Vesp would go /in/ the Ballroom. Honestly he didn't. And he didn't think she'd have followers...
G'deon finishes with his ministrations, then glances through the gap at Astarte. "You'd better stand back," he calls out, then glances back at the weyrlings and sole dragon. "Ready to push?" he asks, still not quite ready to admit it's /his/ lifemate stuck in a door on Ista of all places.
Astarte jumps back, shaking her head "Now I remember why I'm a 'phiny.
"That may not be the best of ideas," Tatia notes wryly, grabbing at another glob of butter. "/She/ got them into this." She drops the gloop on Nylanth's hide, spreading the butter with a wrinkle of her nose. /Not/ what she wanted to be doing.
Vespurath continues to strain, her neck all but straining as well as she attempts to get her way past the bronze. Who is lodged in the door. Vespurath's head can be seen above the bronze's shoulder, straining to pop him out of the doorway itself. She's strong, really she is! Hyzen scurries back out but the green pretty much pays no attention to her. Instead, she concentrates on being strong. Definitely strong.
Sraine nods, but laughs anyways. "No offense to Nylanth, but Akilth would hardly go through a space he MIGHT get stuck in, let alone one he KNOWS he'll get stuck in." Her dragon was pretty careful and thought things through down to the last detail. 'tis why he didn't come with Vespurath in the first place. "Now tell me something to do!" Of course, she doesn't say this very loud..but she wants to help!
Astarte fingers her apprentice bracelet and says boldly (of course,when she knows nobody is listening) "You'll never hear of a dolphin trying to squeeze into a hold, now will you?"
Hyzen manages to find another way out of the Ballroom, rushing towards Imbriath. They had to get home... and tell someone to come and help. Perferably a weyrlingmaster that would know what they were doing? Yes. Waving, she disappears out the doorway and heads most likely for her dragon who awaits outside. Like a smart green.
"Alright everyone," G'deon begins, steadying himself behind Nylanth's other shoulder, opposite Vespurath. "One... two... three!" With that he heaves his back into pushing, trying as hard as Vespurath possibly. his lips mumbling what could either be curses or oaths.
Nylanth sucks in his breath... or tries anyway. Anything to make his bronzen bulk smaller than it actually is.
Hyzen, with the kindly help of a delicate forelimb, manages to pull themself up Imbriath's straps and betwixt ridges of star-kissed emerald.
Imbriath takes off.
Above, Imbriath takes off from Ista Hold Main Courtyard
Above, Imbriath warbles softly as she prepares for the inevitable leap into the rigid coldness and nothingness, slipping easily into the domain of ::between::!
Sraine decides not to wait for anyone to tell her what to do and takes a place right next to G'deon, pushing for all her might. So she may not be THAT strong, but a little more help wouldn't be unwelcome would it? Keeping her muttering all in her mind, she doesn't waste any energy out of her mouth. Resetting her stance, she pushes with her more-developed leg-muscles; finally all that running was coming to some REALLY good use.
Tatia sets her shoulder into Nylanth's side, shoving at G'deon's commands. "Shards.." she mutters. "Did you have to be so /big/?" Vesp is nice 'n small. "/Push/!"
Astarte stands back with a concerned look and crosses her fingers while little blue Triton chitters around her anxiously.
Vespurath trumpets once again as Imbriath takes off. It's kind nice that she can see outside. And breathe and all of that. Still, she strains against the bronze, her movements hampered marginally by the fact that her talons merely scrabble on the smooth stone of the Hold floor rather than gripping at it. But she's strong. Please?
Ashtyn looks around at G'deon, "Is your dragon OK?"
Nylanth rumbles, a deep plaintive cascade of warbles and trills. This is not cool. This is /not/ comfortable. This is //not// dancing.
Tatia straightens, lifting a buttery hand to shove a wisp of hair back without thinking. She grimaces as the oily subtance leaves a streak across her forehead, and peers at the others. "I don't think it worked." Duh.
Astarte raises an eyebrow "fish slime?" she asks.
G'deon strains for a couple more seconds, then falls exhausted against Nylanth's side. "Fish?" he asks. "Sure, fish sounds good."
Astarte runs towards the quay yelling "We have PLENTY of that"
Vespurath momentarily pauses. No one ever claimed that greens have the best of endurance. They're quick, but they're definitely not long-distance runners. That's why their counterparts, the blues, never fly queens. Poor babies. Still, the green backs off, popping her head back into the hall itself as she almost visibly pants. Bleh.
Sraine stops pushing for a moment, gathering a little more strength in her legs as she stands up straight. "Oh man..." she murmers, wiping a sleeve across her forhead. This was harder than...well...harder than anything she could think of at this point. "I didn't think they'd actually TRY this..."
Astarte returns with two foul smelling buckets, filled to the brim. "To put this on a dragon though..."
Tatia wrinkles her nose as she kicks the now-empty bucket to one side. "Fish? Do you know what that's gonna /smell/ like?" Because that /is/ a main concern at the moment. Right. She shoots a glance up at Vespurath who, fortunately, is not stuck. At least she won't be once Nylanth's out the doorway. "Me either.." she shoots toward Sraine.
"Aye, and /I'm/ the one sharing a weyr with him," G'deon responds, more than amused eyes meeting Tatia's.
Astarte looks sheepishly to her feet "I'm sorry, ma'am. Its all I could think of that we have plenty of. I mean, its from the fish I gutted just tody so its still fresh."
Sraine doesn't bother being dainty about it. Reaching over and taking one of the brimmed fish-buckets, she plunges her hands into them with only a semi-slight look of disgust. She -can- think of worse things than -this- at least; of which she did when she was still a drudge. She wasn't squeamish. Pulling her hands back out, she then peers at Nylanth. "You want this stuff at the sides..the closest to where he's stuck..right?"
Kazandar didn't think they'd try this either, but all he can do is watch from the other side of the door. Boy does he feel guilty. Not that he was specificaly in charge of keeping Vesp entertained, but still. He sighs and watched the rear end of the bronze wriggle in the doorway.
Good point. And Tatia's dip of the head admits so. "At least Vesp is small enough to...Shards, what am I saying? If she wasn't small enough to fit in here, we wouldn't /be/ in this mess!" She rubs her greasy hands together, shooting a dismayed look over Nylanth's shoulder and out the door at Astarte. Of course, the 'riders are likely to smell of fish, too. With a sigh, she follows Sraine's example and dips her hands into the bucket, grimacing as they come out covered in fish oil.. and begins to rub.
Above, Niamhyth shimmers in from ::between::!
Astarte runs back to get two more buckets before emerging again and finding a spot on the dragon near the doorway, gingerly dips her hand into a bucket, coming out with a glob of the nasty stuff.
Above, Niamhyth glides gracefully down to the Courtyard.
Niamhyth glides gracefully down and settles in the Courtyard.
Lyri slides from Niamhyth's neck and lands gently on the ground.
Sraine smears whatever she has on her hands onto the bronze's hide, near the edges closest to the stuck parts. Having thoroughly smudged it all over, she then plunges her hands BACK into the buckets for more. SHE wasn't going to get stuck in here away from her brownie-boy. And besides, she didn't think Nylanth would enjoy being stuck in a doorway forever. Yuck.
No one thought she could do it, but she did! Check it /out/. Mwaha. The green is really nowhere to be seen -- but that's because she's probably inside the Hall itself. Nylanth isn't. He's mostly /out/ of the Hall except for his head and shoulders -- the shoulders being what's stuck in the doorway. Weyrlings are scurrying this way and that as they attempt to grease up the bronze enough to unstick him.
G'deon, is of course, also rubbing the fish oil into Nylanth's hide. Never mind where they got the oil... well, from fish. Yeah, never mind.
Tatia is trying not to think about what exactly might be floating around in that oil.. or about the fact that it's 'fresh'. As long as it gets them out of here... she heaves a rather large sigh as she goes back for another handful, globbing it on Nylanth's hide... Good thing she can't see over this particular spot of hide to catch Niamhyth's landing.. that can't be a good thing.
Astarte finishes off the last of her fish bucket, keeping ner nose in a constant wrinkly as she completely slims the bronze's side. If only she were a little taller.
Lyri jumps down and, almost at once, she begins to look around. G'deon is glanced at, as the rider of one of the dragons turned obstruction. "What in all of the open air is going on here?" Grr. "Just /what/ do you think you're doing with that butter? You want to have crawlies eating at his hide?" The bucket is held out and a few cloths as well. "Here. This should help.. and, Nylanth, do take in your breath.. "
Nylanth rumbles as silently as a bronze can. His tail however begins swishing back and forth again as he grows impatient to be out.
Vespurath is pretty much ignorant of the fact that both Lyri and Niamhyth are standing outside. With a rallying trumpet, the green dashes forward again, her head popping out over Nylanth's shoulder and her own weight is flung into Nylanth, regarldess of the fact that he isn't fully greased yet. Vesp doesn't really bother herself with such inconsequentials, and isntead, continues to scrable and strain and push. She's strong! 'n stuff!
Astarte drops her empty bucket and jumps back, trying not to be smashed by the swishing tail and whatever becomes of the commotion inside. She lets out a panicky sound, not carring who thinks her cowardly.
Sraine blinks and pauses as she hears a voice on the other side of Nylanth. HOooooold on a minute...was that? Pausing in her smearing fish oil all over the bronze, she drops to her hands and knees and peers through the tiny spaces Nylanth's body WASN'T occupying. Then she pales. "Oh shards." is all she can mutter as she stands once again. That's it. This is the LAST gather she EVER goes to. She's locking herself in her weyr the next time someone mentions one is going on.
Nylanth /does/ suck in his breath... /all/ of it. In fact, the already dark bronze begins after a minute or two to turn darker. "Nylanth, that's it. We're trying! Really we are!" G'deon all but shouts. That's not worry in his voice. Of course not; he's cool, he's collected... maybe.
Nylanth senses Niamhyth sends a trumpeting blast of brilliant red and gold. <<Stay still! You'll get injured and you'll only end up hurting and grounded. If you aren't grounded for this stunt.>> Clearly, even the green is a bit put off by this. <<Now, be calm, both of you. Nylanth, take in your breath, and push backward.>> to him.
Tatia groans as a stray tail or foot or elbow.. who knows the cause?.. catches a bucket of fish oil, sending the slimy, smelly liquid up into the air.. and back down. A good bit of it catches Tatia in the side, but where the rest of it lands... The greenrider lifts a hand, brushing now-oily strands of hair back as she sighs in acceptance. She smells like fish. She's greasy. And she's still stuck inside with a dragon and a half. Oh wait.. there's more. "Shards? Why shards? Sraine, who's out there?" /Please/ tell her it's not who she thinks it is... Tatia scrambles to crouch behind the brownrider, attempting to share the peep-space.
G'deon finds every bit of grease he can find. The butter bin is empty, the oil jar is empty... even the fish oil is gone. He runs a hand through his hair, but no help there either. "Alright, all that's left is to push." He glances at the others, the apology all but written on his face. "One last push, okay," he offers.
Vespurath has already backed off, sucking her head back in past the great bronze and panting for breath. Ny is /really/ stuck. A concerned, whirling eye is sent Tatia's direction and the green croons, the note of her voice just a teeeeensy bit worried.
Sraine didn't think her day could get worse...but it does...when the REST of the fish-oil goes splattering all over HER. All over her uniform and covering about half of her head. With half of her hair sticking to her neck and face, she merely gasps in surprise. EEEK. Hearing Tat's voice, she turns and looks pained. "It's LYRI." she murmers, almost fearful. Oh man...this just CAN'T get worse. Hearing G'deon, Sraine just nods. Might as well try one last time. Setting her shoulder against the bronze, she gets ready to push with her legs with all her might.
<Local> Nylanth senses that Vespurath's mind whirls with defintie concern at this point. It's not her fault, really, but she's not sounding quite nearly as sure of herself. <<Tell me when to push...>> the green offers, her voice rather small and forlorn. Look how innocent...nevermind the fact that she is, indeed, inside the hall.
<Local> Nylanth senses that he waits for a moment for G'deon's signal. << Alright, push! >> he commands, and no, that low voice is /not/ capable of squeaking.
Tatia straightens, hands going to her hips in frustration. "So I just heard," she remarks dryly. "I guess there's nothing else we can do..." A soft sigh - yeah, those are coming in quantity tonight - and Tatia takes up her posistion, setting her shoulder into Nylanth's hide. "Ready when you are...."
Lyri gives another one of those groans, the kind that just begs 'why me', and moves off to the side. "Alright, you lot, this isn't getting us anywhere. I don't suppose any of you thought of trying to oil the door frame as well, did you?" The 'lings are eyed as a group. "And I do hope you know that this is going to be something you remember for a /very/ long time." Hear the dooming music in the back ground? "And make sure that his wings stay out of the way."
Astarte backs up.. /way up and watches from a distance.
G'deon heaves his back into Nylanth's shoulder, which miraculously, begins to move! "That's it everyone! Push!" G'deon calls out. "Just hold your breath a little longer Nylanth, and push with your forelegs!" he adds, boots scraping against the flagstones.
<Local> Nylanth senses that Niamhyth agrees with the rest. <<Now.>> Images of a dragon attempting to back out of a doorway follow. <<But do not strain. Use your weight.>>
The assistant weyrlingmaster's advice comes too late, evidently.. cause Tatia's already pushing, legs stuggling for traction on the slippery floor. "He's... moving..." she notes - just in case no one noticed - and her shoulder digs in just a little harder.
Sraine is pretty sure that somewhere along her oiling she fairly coated the doorframe too. However, her tired mind is too..well...tired to care. At G'deon's prompting she pushes as hard as she can with her upper body and even harder with her legs. Oh she was definitely going to feel this tomorrow. Putting all her effort into it, she HEAVES.
Duh duh duh! A brassy little trumpet sounds from inside the Hall. Green is coached by her elder and she rushes forward, plunging her weight into Nylanth as she does so. Her head once again pokes out over his shoulder, but her body is unable to follow, its bulk thrown against that of the bronze's. He'd /better/ be moving. Blue eyes whirl faster with exertion as Vespurath does, indeed, strain.
Even Nylanth's wings, well free of the metal doors, seem to try to help, flapping uselessly in the air, his tail all but drilling a hold through the ground it'd been drumming. Slowly but surely, the dark hide begins to slide from within the Hold's interior. A moment later and *POP!* Out comes Nylanth, shoulders, neck and all, his legs barely shuffling fast enough to keep him upright.
<Local> Nylanth senses that he thinks << Thank you, Vespurath! You were a might help! >>
From the beach, Astarte lets out an echoing cheer, before remembering herself and being in the presence of dragonriders and meekly quiets herself.
<Local> Nylanth senses that Niamhyth sends out a puff of humor. <<Quite the magestic and noble bronze.>> Snicker. <<And you do look most.......handsome with your new covering.>> Oh no, she's not gloating.
G'deon tumbles through the door suddenly, turning a full somersault in the air before his efforts land him with a hard *thump* on his back in the dirt. Muddy dirt at that. "Hello Lyri," he manages to murmur.
Sraine follows after the "popped" dragon, having been pushing too hard to stop properly. Going sprawling onto the floor, the quiet rider bangs her side roughly. OOf. That was going to leave a mark too. *WHINE* Why her? At least Nylanth was free, right? Glancing up, she confirmed this. Yep..he was free.....and there was a very unhappy Lyri on the other side. GREAT. Here comes the final blow of the day. She's almost positive of it.
Tatia tumbles after Nylanth, unable to pull herself back after the force she'd been pushing with. She lands outside with a *thud*, sprawled on the ground.. and remains there for a long moment. Energy to move.. doesn't seem to be forthcoming. "Oooohhhh... are we out?" Tatia flips herself over, lying on her back to peer up at the group. "/Vesp?/ Can you get out?" Oh /please/ say yes.
Lyri narrows her eyes at G'deon. "This I would expect from someone else, greens tend to be a bit flighty and hard to control.. I am very ashamed to see such actions out of a bronzerider. And, yes, you are responsible for your dragon. What would you have done if he'd been injured.. or worse?" Glower.
Vespurath pops free at just about the same moment that Nylanth does, in fact, rolling to a hault with him in a tangle of both bronze and green appendages. She's alright! Thanks for asking, really. The green bugles her triumph and begins to flounder about, attempting to disconnect herself from her larger and now-unstuck clutchmate. Ew. Fish slime. She's definitely going to need a bath for this one.
Kazandar takes some steps back as Nylanth pops out the door in his direction, even though the bronze is still a fair distance away. The bronze bulk moved he can see more clearly all the people inside the door, who look rather jumbled and dirty as they tumble out after him....and one green dragon who is /not/ supposed to be there. He sighs and rolls his eyes.
<Local> Nylanth senses that Vespurath sends her exhuberance in the form of bright pops of color. Check /that/ out. <<I'm strong!>> Is let out even as Lyri begins to gouge into G'deon. Look at this, she's not flighty and hard to control. Smoldering thoughts radiate from the green. She just wanted to dance...*whine* <<I'm out.>> Green notes toward her rider, although it's hardly necessary. And even Vesp comes to the rescue of her clutchmate's lifemate. <<He just wanted to dance. And it was all inside. WE should be able dance.>> Tone is most definitely childish and rather defensive, but that's 'Purath to a tee.
Sraine slowly pushes her way to standing, barely catching Lyri's words among it all. Well...she didn't hear anything being directed at her for the moment, so that was good. Almost fully covered in fish-oil, having a banged hip and strained muscles, Ine wasn't exactly in the best of shape at the moment. Eyes finally glance up and around..cataloguing who all was there. Blink. Since when was Kazandar here? OI..she's out of it.
G'deon picks himself up by pieces... First to his knees, then to his feet. Perhaps he should have remained on his knees. "Aye, Lyri, you're right," he admits. What, giving in so soon? Ah, but there comes that newly found roguish grin. "I didn't know, seriously. But by the time I was, what could we do?"
Astarte looks around at the excitement before collecting herself and gingerly walking around to pick up the buckets. The Dolphineer journeymen definately do not want to know what she was doing with them.
Tatia shoves herself upward with one hand, though she remains sitting, pulling her knees into her chest for the moment. "You're out. Good." The weary comment is directed to her lifemate as she brushes tangled, oily hair from her face. "Are you hurt?" Because to Tat, that question comes even before she glances toward Lyri warily. Groaning, she pushes herself further upward to find her feet and moves to stand near G'deon. Might as well get it over with now. "We were dancing.." she offers in an attempt at an excuse.
Lyri frowns. "You could have kept a constant eye out for what was going on. Don't think that it can't be done, you don't have to give him your total attention but you must /always/ be alert. You don't survive your first turn in the air if you don't learn that." Tatia is turned to. "And Vespurath was the first one in there, what have /you/ to say for yourself? Don't tell me that you couldn't stop her, either, because you could. YOU are responsible for your dragon, and responsible for the damage that dragon causes.. just as the weyr is responsible for you.. like /I/ am responsible for you." And if she gets it, everyone gets it. "This whole mess could have been easily avoided." Amusing though it is.
G'deon tries to steady himself as Lyri continues, Nylanth, by order more than likely, making his way far from Lyri and her own lifemate. He glances at Tatia and winces. This is after all his and Nylanth's fault. "Look Lyri, it was my doing. My failure," he interjects.
Astarte finishes picking up the bucketss and stacking them together, wondering how she will explain away 4 pails of fish oil.
Sraine brushes back all the oily hair out of her face and tries to slop it away from her neck. OI...she felt icky now. Shaking her head and clearing it, she speaks with Akilth for a moment. Seems he had been enjoying a nice little nap for some time now in that meadow. Sure enough he would want to know all about what he tried to stop earlier. Sigh. Just standing there, oily and sore, she stays silent, wondering what sort of talking to--if any--she would get.
His and Nylanth's fault? Much as Tatia would love to forget exactly /which/ dragon decided she wanted to dance, she can't quite bring herself to let that stand. "Vesp went in first," she points out softly, nearly flinching as she brings her gaze up to meet Lyri's. "But we were dancing, and there were lots of people.. I thought she'd stayed out here with Akilth..." It's not her fault. Really.
Vespurath stands and she looks down at her talon which has been conveniently broken off. Tatia gets a conciliatory croon from the green at that point and she begins to shuffle toward her rider, whuffling her all the time. LYri is thoroughly ignored, for she doesn't have much bearing on the dragons -- she's tongue-lashing the riders at this point.
G'deon glances at Tatia, a thankful smile on his lips, though a cautious one. Nylanth begins several times to try to make his way to his distressed rider, but each time is kept in check.
Lyri frowns even deeper, if that's possible. "Fault. We're not discussing fault, we're not discussing this at all. You are responsible for your dragons and their actions. If you can't control them, you can go back into the weyrling wing with the jrs... with Cadge's get." Now /there's/ a punishment for you. "As it stands, you're all grounded for the sevenday.. while I try to figure out how to break this to R'sli." Underwear boy should /love/ this. "And how to get rid of this sharding headache.."
Kazandar wasn't here..for awhile. When dragons scuttle off somewhere even Kaz has to wonder. He almost wishes he hadn't wondered. What a mess. Oh dear...He quietly takes another few steps back, hoping Tat won't see him. He didn't have anything to do with anything. He winces slightly at the punishment. Poor everyone.
Sraine gives a light squeak now, at the use of "all." All included her. OH dear. Okay..just to make sure. "Ma'am...does this mean me too?" Her voice sounds tinny to even her, but at this point she's really tired and just wants to know what's going on. Wait..did she just call Lyri ma'am? whoah.
"You know, willowsal..." Oh my. As soon as Tatia begins to speak, she thinks better of it, and the first part of Lyri's declaration begins to sink in. A sevenday? Her face falls as she shoots a glance toward G'deon.. Let's not mention how it could have been worse. Suddenly, her gaze shifts to take in Vespurath, dropping down to said broken talon. "Of /course/ you smell," she snaps. "You've got fish oil all over you." Yes, she just snapped at her darling lifemate.. she's just a bit upset at the moment. And tired. And smelly. And...
Lyri nods. "This means the wing, unless I decide differently. YOu see, being part of a wing means being responsible for everyone in it, no matter what your position. So, you have G'deon and Tatia to thank for your grounded status." Her hand gestures toward the offending weyrlings. "Go ahead, thank them."
Astarte hangs her head to her feet at seeing the dragonriders get in trouble, She sits back in the sand and calls her blue firelizard to her and looks around, obviously missing something.
Vespurath stamps a foot at that point and shakes her head just a bit, looking quite runnerlike, actually. A glare is sent at Lyri. She can glare, can she not? She made Tatia made and sad 'n stuff an' that doesn't bode well for a story tonight. Which makes Vespurath a sad dragon. Like all work and no play, yes?
Sraine doesn't have the energy or spite to actually -thank- G'deon and Tatia, even in THAT way. All she does is glance over to them with a rather tired look. And boy, does the brownrider look a bit crumpled now. She's never going to another gather EVER again. EVER EVER EVER. "Understood." is all the quiet one actually murmers, wiping the oily hair out of her face.
G'deon just stands there... at attention... awaiting the final blow. "Yes, ma'am," he replies to Lyri. Seems only right afterall. Cross the line, you'd better be willing to pay the price. "However," he adds, taking a deep breathe, "the rest of my wing really should not be held accountable."
<Local> Nylanth senses that Vespurath's voice extends to encorperate the whole area, horror twining itsel fin there as well. <<The whole wing? Even Chanticoth and Imbriath and Catiminith and Branwyth?>> After all, they weren't even here. Discoungint Imbriath -- not that it matters...
Astarte calls to Triton, who flies over and lands on her shoulder.
<Local> Nylanth senses that Niamhyth sends out comforting tendrils now that the edge has been driven from her worry and, afterward, the sudden burst of humor. <<Don't worry, younglings, she'll soften up in the morning. This has been a very long day.>> Hints of the stress that she has been recieving from her rider throughout the day are shared. <<That is what comes of being responsible for you all... even if it is shared.>> Humorous touches of smoke drift through. <<Imagine that one of you had made the same sort of mistake during theadfall.. one would be gone.>>
Tatia shoots G'deon a rather surprised glance as he speaks.. but it only lasts for a moment. She certainly can't let him do this alone - or she certainly can't let the bronzerider show her up. Either way, her shoulders straighten and she nods. "It was Vespurath.. and Nylanth.. who went in," she notes. In case Lyri missed that.
<Local> Nylanth senses that he seems to be calming, then images of his mindvoice lessening to a more neutral landscape of green, a lazy blue ribbon throughout. << Perhaps G'deon could help Lyri? >> he questions, not really an offer. << He is a good comforter >>
<Local> Nylanth senses that Niamhyth would almost be snickering, if she could. <<I think that is what got her into some of the stress.>> Babies and stuff.
Sraine can't really stand up and be brave, cause there's nothing really to SAY. She had been forced to the gather and into dancing...and then got stuck in by the bronze and helped get it unstuck. But now she felt like a heel, because she -couldn't- say anything. Trying to think of something to do, the brownrider stands little taller. Ine could at least look a LITTLE more presentable.
<Local> Nylanth senses that he knows nothing about babies. << Hugs seem to help though >> Yeah, long ones.
The dolphin apprentice sits down, with the stack of pails besides her and stairs at the ground, wishing there was something she could do. She leans over and pets her canine, almost looking to him for the answers.
Lyri nods. "What if it were Nylanth and G'deon who weren't paying attention to during a fall? Which one of your wing would be dead? What if, Tatia, you were not in control of your dragon's actions and she missed a clump and took it in the wing? Are you willing to take responsibility for that? For the lives of those you care about?" Her voice cracks just a bit but regains stability. "Because, if you are, then you don't need to listen to me." OOooooh.
Vespurath all but whimpers, flopping down beside her rider with a definitely harried expression to her own features. She just...wanted to dance. It wasn't anything, really. She just wanted to dance. Really. And it's not her fault! They shouldn't have made the dance indoors. Glances are sent just about all around as the green continues to lay, drooped, where she is.
<Local> Nylanth senses that Vespurath's mindvoice is small and a little forlorn, <<But it wasn't FAll. I wouldn't go and dance during Fall.>> The green notes, sounding just a little bit defensive, her tone no longer reserved for Tatia, but relaxed and sort of projected all about her. <<I wouldn't miss a clump, either. I'm good. I wouldn't miss a clump.>> Not that she's ever flown Thread before, but we can just pretend.
G'deon glances from side to side, only just now noticing that the small weyrling group and an assistant weyrling master weren't the only ones in the area. Great, this little episode isn't going to just stay 'between friends'. However, Lyri's words strike way too close to home and grab the bronzeling's attention. Enough in fact, to cause those lips of his to quaver. "I'd /never/ let anything happen to Nylanth," he breathes.
Tatia doesn't spare a glance for her lifemate, though one hand does reach out to make contact with green hide.. just for the comfort of knowing she's there... especially in the light of Lyri's words. Her gaze flies to G'deon at his words, and her head dips in a half-nod that leaves her gaze at her feet.. and she remains silent. What to say to /that/? It's not a thought she even wants to think about... life without Vesp. Life /began/ with Vespurath.
Nylanth is quivering as well, his eyes whirling faster and faster, anxious yellow turning into distessed red, small rumbles of complaint issuing forth from his slightly parted jaws.
Sraine hugs her arms to her chest and shudders, finding just the -thought- of losing Akilth to someone else's--or her own--recklessness. That was a painful realization and this brownrider was ready to be dismissed and sulk in her weyr.
<Local> Nylanth senses that Niamhyth sends out a sharp whip of bright orange. <<It does not matter, what you learn on the ground and through action.. or non-action, carries through into the air. A mistake learned down here can mean death up there.>> Shared feelings of seering pain and agony are shared briefly, though they are the half remembered bits boosted by her rider's memory. <<This is not what you want for them, or them for you.>>
Astarte continues to stare down and fingers her 'phiny charms pensively. /today is a good day to be glad I'm not a draginrider/ she thinks.
Bronzeling rider and dragon both are struck by the words and images from Lyri and Niamhyth. G'deon solemnly bows his head. "Just let me know what I should do," he says to Lyri.
Vespurath is going to have to be stubborn. Another whuffle of her rider's legs, a croon of apprecation at thelight touch. It's nice to know that Tat's there. And there will be no life without Tatia. That's just the way it is, and that's the way it will be, now won't it?
Lyri sighs, clearly overly tired. "Look." Guess those deep breaths really /do/ work. "Let's just all go home and get cleaned up.. G'deon, look to Nylanth's hide and make sure he doesn't have any scratches or cuts, and let's get cleaned up.. I'll decide what to do with you lot after I talk to R'sli or someone.." Becuase she's gone just past that stressed out phase.."
<Local> Nylanth senses that Vespurath's tone is annoyed, as if the elder green simply /doesn't/ get it. <<But I was going to /dance/. That's not a mistake.>> The green notes, her voice a little confused and annoyed. Niamhyth /doesn't/ know what's going on and the scent that prevades that mindtone is primarily one of mixed odors, found usually in the High Reaches kitchens. <<It's not a mistake.>> Green reiterates, <<And we aren't fighting thread.>> For Niamh obviously doesn't get that part either. <<And that's icky, 'Hyth.>> Just in case the other green didn't know that, yet.
Tatia finally drops her gaze to Vespurath, though the look holds no reassurance. When she glances back up, she nods at Lyri, pushing at her hair again as if her words reminded of her just how throughly /dirty/ she is right now. Still she's silent.. it seems the safest course of action for the moment. A bath, sleep.. things will be better in the morning.. right?
Sraine was SO ready to hear that. The fish oil was practically seeping into her skin and she could already tell it was going to take DAYS to get that smell out. Oi. No more gathers. No. Nope. NEVER. Standing there for a moment, she then nods to Lyri and heads out to where Akilth was still taking his nap in blissful, semi-ignorant state. Before she strides off, however, she glances back at Tatia and sighs. "I told you I didn't want to dance." And that's all she has to say about this entire day.
You ascend with practiced steps up to Nylanth's bronzen neck and settle yourself between two neckridges.
Nylanth (#15000) [Ista Hold Main Courtyard (#1407)]
The torrent of darkness that blacks this dragon's claret hide rides his lean,
broad-shouldered frame as a cascade of shadows. However dark that jeweled hide
twinkles -- oh how it fits with never a wrinkle, that darkly gleaming skin --
his dashing, darkling glory is offset by those moonlit galleon's sails. Doe-skin
brown may soften his hindquarters, but it is bronze that crinkles bright at
his ale-laced throat, clatters down the gallop of neckridges steeling his spine
and dashes madly along the rapier length of his tail. His eyes -- bright, like
the moon at midnight -- eyes like the stroke of midnight, gleam with a robber's
gaze.
A well-oiled pair of riding straps are fastened to Nylanth's neck. They are
dyed half in midnight blue, and the other half has been bleached to a creamy
white, offset by gleaming silver buckles that twinkle in the light. They allow
places for footholds, as well as ample areas for passengers to attach there
own riding gear.
Nylanth seems to be listening.
G'deon silently straps himself in and waits for the others.
Above, Akilth springs up from the Gather Square and spreads his wings!
<Local> Nylanth senses that Niamhyth sends out a condesending cloud of dripping grey. <<No, but getting stuck and looking like a foolish hatchling is definately a mistake.>> Images of the younger green from her point of view are shared, along with a husky mental chuckle. <<You certainly would turn heads.. and noses.>>>
Tatia climbs up shadowed hide to settle between slender 'ridges.
Above, Akilth flips ::between:: with a deft twist.
Lyri clambers up Niamhyth's neck and settles in between two neckridges.
Niamhyth takes off.
Above, Niamhyth takes off from Ista Hold Main Courtyard
You take off.
Above Ista Hold
You wing your way over the Ista Hold complex. Below, the main hold's wide courtyard
faces east, over the ocean. Just north of that lies the Hold's main beach, the
white sands often crowded with holders enjoying the sun and surf. Turquoise
waters from the hold cove roll up to lap on the shore. Just inland from the
main beach are the Hold's main gather meadow and racetracks.
It is a spring late night.
In the courtyard, you see Hoth, Ganth, Vespurath, and one person.
Green Fellrath and green Niamhyth are here.
Obvious exits:
Courtyard -- North -- Valley -- Beach -- Gather Grounds -- Fire Heights -- Gather
Square
Vespurath takes off from Ista Hold Main Courtyard
Vespurath shimmers for a moment before fading ::between::.
Nylanth with barely a wink flashes into ::between::!
:::BETWEEN!:::
You hang, senseless, in the dark nothingness of ::between::... absolute darkness
surrounds you, and the profound cold stings you... you wait, and count...
Black...
Blacker...
Blackest...
Above High Reaches
Quite, quite high, nothing braves these heights but stone and dragon and cloud;
the Star Stones jut dutifully above the Weyr proper, flayed by the mountain
winds that are consistant at this altitude whilst the rest spreads below, protected
by its crown of jagged stone spires'-teeth.
It is a spring late night. It is dark, and a few stars have begun to make their
appearance known. The breeze has died off, and the crickets are starting their
evening symphony.
Green Niamhyth and green Vespurath are here.
Obvious exits:
Weyr -- Over The Mountains -- Star Stones
Nylanth bursts in from ::between::, overlooking the area with a calculating gaze.
Vespurath comes in from ::between:: and almost immediately dips her wing, making in a rather steep dive toward the lake where they /will/ bathe. She is most certainly not going to sleep with the both of them smelling horrible. /After/ that will the green take Tatia up to the weyr, and not before.
From Vespurath's neck, Tatia looks rather weary from her perch on Vespurath's neck, but she still has the energy to hold tight as they dive - she's as anxious to get this junk off her skin and out of her hair as the green is, even if they /do/ have to do it in a lake.
G'deon is slowly stretching his arms, trying perhaps to relax after that /major/ bout of stress. "Time for a bath, I think, Nylanth," he comments. "I guess it's back to the barracks after all."
You abandon the view from high above the bowl and circle lower, passing the Spires and Star Stones on the way down.
Above the Bowl
The ocean's tranquil thermals settle within the center section of the bowl's
airspace, unusually smooth and bouyant -- though oft to switch as the seasons
shift. Lingering beneath spires' constant presence, the perpetual activity of
the weyr can be observed from every direction: from the testing rustle of dragonet
wings, to the playful games sent aloft.
It is a spring late night. It is dark, and a few stars have begun to make their
appearance known. The breeze has died off, and the crickets are starting their
evening symphony.
Obvious exits:
Northern Sky -- Weyrling Air -- Above the Pens -- Above the Lake -- Ledges
Watch for flying Weyrlings! The training grounds are busy, dangerous airspace.
Above the Training Grounds
Weyrling pairs have trampled the ground below into the hard-packed training
grounds: ash pits near the pens, targets on the walls, the occasional loose
Weyrling out of control here in the gentle thermals. The Weyr curves north towards
large ledges and the Hatching Grounds beyond, and south towards pens and lake.
What ledges are occupied here are high above the noise and smell of the Weyrs'
youngest riders.
It is a spring late night. It is dark, and a few stars have begun to make their
appearance known. The breeze has died off, and the crickets are starting their
evening symphony.
Obvious exits:
Up -- Training Grounds -- Central Bowl -- Northern Sky -- Ledges
-End of Log-
[To be continued...more...] - Click here for the spammy conclusion of "Stuck Dragons: Part... huh?"