Ember
Administrator
T'san Iskierka Dy'shi Jazheera Ae'on Nephele Qaena K'dem Eikane
FLAME GURU OF THE UNDERWORLD
Posts: 1,832
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Post by Ember on Oct 8, 2010 14:38:30 GMT -5
Oh, oh, R’rilslave~ Hisalyth purred sweetly. Hurry the shards up, you dimglow, pathetic excuse for a rider. The others have already started! Yeah, not so sweet in the end. The green’s saccharine tone didn’t match her words at all. R’ril didn’t mind though. Who else would love him if not his precious green? She could hurt him all she wanted with her sharp words. The pair were quite happy with their task. The hurting of others, while possible for R’ril, was not his preference. He’d rather get to know someone before deciding whether or not they were disliked enough to be attacked. Unless they were from Fort and then he just hated them on principle.
Hisalyth was happy because she was an underhanded fighter when she was forced to fight. How much more underhanded did it get than to attack day-blind creatures? Not very. R’ril marched into the entrance of the wherhandler apartment tunnels with a pleasant grin on his face. A couple other riders followed him to make certain that any resistance was met with complete failure from the wherhandlers. R’ril sent the other riders to bang on the doors even as he did so himself, quickly drifting back towards one end of the hallway. He had a split second’s warning before Hisalyth had her fun and roared loudly into the tunnel, urging the dragon at the other entrance to do the same.
“Good morning, wherhandlers,” R’ril said loudly as the first few heads emerged from their apartments, “and welcome to the new Selenitas.” He ignored any surprised reactions to continue on. Really, no need for things to get messy here. They’d suffer enough losses trying to be heroic to make up for any perceived cowards among the wherhandlers. “We have captured your Weyrwoman and killed your Junior Weyrwoman. Don’t try anything heroic with your little night uglies or we’ll be forced to put you down as well.” Calm and collected, he was. He had just gotten his fix before arriving so he was good for a little while yet. Absolutely dependable he could be sometimes.
His voice was light, as if there was absolutely nothing wrong with the situation. “Be good little kids for us~” R’ril smiled crookedly at the wherhandlers and waited for any stupidity out of them. Or for orders from the others. Hisalyth was relaying what she could about the battles going on amongst the rest of the weyr. “Oh dear, such brave dragonriders your little weyr has. Too bad they’re not all that good.” When did you grow a backbone, idiotslave? When you said such harsh words to me, my love! Oh, just shut up. How long do I have to sit here anyways? With what you said I doubt anyone will try and escape, unless they’re just as dim as you are.
Not long. Soon enough is would be all over. It was never meant to be a prolonged battle. Kaegan would cave and they would have Selenitas. And, oh, the games they would play afterwards! R’ril was looking forward to seeing what the northern rejects had to offer someone like him.
Important - This thread is for wherhandlers, and is largely a reaction thread. - If your character attacks I will take it as permission for me to kill them unless you ask me first. Maimings can be fun too. - Any wherhandlers trying to escape are going to be met with dragon flame~ Have fun!
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Requiem
Weyrleader S'rei WM M?ta Rider A'nd Harper/Handler Dmitri Weyrbrat Miguel
Posts: 2,861
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Post by Requiem on Oct 8, 2010 14:59:02 GMT -5
When he came to the door, he was shirtless, his dark blue-gray’s slitted in a clearly sleepy expression. Dmitri hadn’t -quite- been asleep just yet when the strange scents bestirred Dmisk, but it was close enough that the distinction was next to pointless. Squinting at the unfamiliar riders, his mind slowly processed what was being said, and then he just had to laugh. He covered his reaction to the bitter irony of it all with words made crisper by an accent that was thickest in times of stress and when half-asleep. “Like we should care who it is ignoring us? Rest easy; you won’t be eaten by whers this morning.” Indeed, he’d have the hide of anyone who attacked the exposed riders. Ridding themselves of the nuisances would be child’s play with the dragons unable to enter the apartments; weathering the shit storm afterwards was another story. Block off the exits and the wherhandlers would be truly helpless.
Best to just cooperate.
The keens, though, were setting Dmitri’s teeth on edge. He didn’t show it on his face. With a silent command to Dementia to stay put (he didn’t trust her not to try to claw out the eyes of the nearest stranger), Dmitri stepped out into the hall. If the burn scars and warped arm offended their sensibilities, tough. The Fortian covered a yawn with his hand and moved past the greenrider to flop bonelessly on one of the couches in the communal room. He was hoping the attitude would keep any potential panicking to a minimum. “I think I’ll just go back to sleep now,” Dmitri commented, shutting his eyes and folding his arms behind his head. “Someone wake me if anything interesting happens.”
Had the blue handler kept his eyes open, it was highly likely he would have found the movement down the hall quite interesting. The curly head that had poked out of a door a little further down the hall shortly after Dmitri’s now gave way to a small body as well. Though her dark eyes were wide and most could have seen the trembling at a distance, Ximera’s bare feet bore her steadily toward the riders. One hand covered the metal ladle in her pocket in a distinctly protective gesture. The other hand gathered the shift near her neck, clutching at the bunched fabric. As she neared, the tears that glistened in her eyes spilled over, coursing down her cheeks in utter silence.
Only once she neared one of the greenrider’s companions did she reach up to tug at his sleeve, her whisper sounding small and lost and choked with the sobs she refused to voice. “You’re not killing all the dragon riders, are you?” The girl flinched when another keen cut through the quiet. Please, Faranth, don’t let that be Eveyth. Don’t let any of them be Eveyth. “My brother would never fight anyone. Please, tell me you won’t hurt X’rx.” Even as she said the words, though, doubt flickered through her mind. When they’d come back into the room after the siege, hadn’t there been just two dead men and her brother? No, no, he was too gentle to harm anyone. Ximesk, who had followed His tentatively, pressed his snout into her side, whimpering softly.
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Avu
Weyrleader Ce'thian Rider A'emi Handler Sena Harper Matteo Weyrbrat Riaren
Posts: 2,439
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Post by Avu on Oct 8, 2010 15:24:14 GMT -5
Who was knocking.
Vix jerked in the bed, a soft sigh of disapproval mumbling from his throat. Wouldn’t be surprised if it was just one of the older wherhandlers being stupid, because that was what they did, but…his fingers twitched in dismay as the end of his bed dipped with Tekivisk’s weight shifting off from the warm coil against his side, the green wher evidently roused even if her handler was not. She gave a soft, curious warble, pawing lightly at his leg. Too many heat signatures—blurred and indistinct through the doors and walls but too many nonetheless. And smells—all of them so strange. Smelled wrong, felt wrong. Her unease trickled into his mind, pooling into warm wakefulness.
“Not now,” Vix sighed. And then came the roar—distinctly draconic. Vix’s breath stuttered into his throat, sharp anger and fear spiking indignantly. Where did the dragons get off, coming into their home like that! Tekivisk’s long, low whine only pushed the anger further. Scaring her, the idiots…Vix was stumbling out of the bed before he registered how sleep-muddled he really was, pushing the door open, but the words that were about to come out, how dare they, what did they think they were doing—were swallowed at the unfamiliarity of them, the words and the Northern accents…
Wait—wait. They’d—what? Vix’s hip found the doorway, a frown darting across his face as he struggled to comprehend the words, all blurring together too fast and not registering until Tekivisk’s head bumped against his thigh, anxiety and terror quivering in the wher’s mental touch. His spine stiffened as the man continued to speak, a territorialism he’d never really felt before rising, but Vix remained silent—given the choice between risking his, and by extent Tekivisk’s, life and just keeping quiet, he’d hold his tongue any day. One hand sought the green’s shoulder, pushed gently to the interior of the room, “Stay with Darmosk.”
Though the words sounded numb, blank and uncomprehending, Tekivisk still shivered and obeyed, slinking silently back into the room. Halfway across, sudden fear took hold, and the wher bolted to slam into Darmosk, burying her face against the bronze’s side to muffle the anxious sounds that burst from her throat, please please what was happening all the sounds and smells and why, please make it stop, brother…the green’s tail draped across the bronze’s, a shiver running the length of her body, why were the dragons making those sounds…
Dmitri was mostly ignored in favor of Ximera—Vix swallowed as her path became apparent, hesitating in the doorway of his room, stealing a glance backwards. Hated to leave Tekivisk, even with Darmori and Darmosk, but couldn’t just…“Xi.” He resisted the urge to run after the girl, mostly because his legs did not feel up to supporting him, instead trying to even his pace until he reached her. A single wide-eyed look was cast at the Riders, Vix trying to ignore their presence as he caught Ximera by the wrist, pulling her away from them. “You can’t just—not now, come on, you can stay with Darmori and me, just don’t…stay out here…”
Simpler to concentrate on this, now, he decided, than to try to piece together the keening audible from outside, the cold ice of terror in the pit of his stomach. At least he didn’t know any dragonriders—but he did kind of want to round up everyone he even vaguely knew, just keep them. “We’ve gotta—” The words stumbled from his mouth, Vix hesitating, unsure of where he wanted that statement to go, “Get back. Somewhere safe. Not out here.”
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Rei
Administrator
Rider Cr'oph Rider Er'ani Rider Elysia Rider/Healer Erilena Wherhandler Sydney Holdbrat Emitre Holdbrat Dileina Weyrbrat Elias Weyrbrat Terilyn
Woooo~ I am a fox!
Posts: 3,021
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Post by Rei on Oct 8, 2010 16:35:35 GMT -5
The pounding at the door drew Darmori’s attention as well. A low and protective growl sounding from the bronze laying by his bed woke him far easier than the knocking however. Darmosk continued to rumble lowly in his throat, the wher rising to his feet to bare teeth at the offending door. The heat signatures he brushed along Darmori’s mind where numerous and confusing. Still the blonde was not completely awake until a dragon’s roar sounded and he turned into the picture of elegance. His lower legs got twisted in his furs as he tried to leap from his bed and he did a remarkable impression of a klutz complete with fall. Picking himself up he shushed Harmony mentally before signaling for Darmosk to stay put. Only then did he inch towards the door, trying not to shudder as the sound of a dragon’s keening filled the air.
Darmori stopped halfway across the room, nervous about approaching any further. Couldn’t he just listen from here? Finally his wher’s blunt muzzle nudged against the boy’s hip to get him moving. The bronze did not want his any closer to the common room and these intruders. But someone needed to find out what was going on. Besides the large male was suddenly quite preoccupied with a Tekivisk. Dipping his head Darmosk crooned in an attempt at reassurance, curling his large body completely around the smaller female. Draping one small wing over the green the male nuzzled her back. His sister love should not worry. He would let no harm befall her, her bonded, or any of his other siblings. He promised. He would make sure they where all okay. Crimson whiling eyes fixed themselves on the door but for the moment Darmosk made no moves towards it. He did not know what was happening, not exactly, but theirs would find out. In the meantime she needed to calm down. It would help hers. As for the dragons? The bronze diplomatically decided it was best not to answer.
Where as Darmosk was more concerned about his siblings his gold mandyr, hissing low death threats from the bedpost, was more concerned with a certain bronze mandyr. This in turn had Darmori not only thinking and worrying about his classmates but of Darya as well. Ick, what a right horrible mess. Drawing up behind Vix the young bronze handler listened in silence to the words spoken. Shame that those words caused his heart to seize with dread. Not again….It was like the siege all over again. But this time…one gold rider dead? And the Senior pair captured? That combined with the amount of keening going on told a somber tail, and trapped as they where there was nothing any of them could do about it.
Instead Darmori placed himself in front of the doorway, as a possible barrier. Not a very intimidating one, considering he was dressed only in his sleeping shorts and nothing else, but all the same he watched as his roommate went to collect Ximera, silently encouraging the girl to accept. Better if they stayed together as a group. Obviously Darmosk was of the same mind because he wasted no time in brushing the mind of Ximesk. He was welcome to come join him and Tekivisk. It would be easier for him to protect his siblings if they where all close after all.
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Ruby
Shiny Hoarder
Jr.Weyrwoman Caden Bronzehandler Piden Bluerider M'kai Bluerider T'ri Greenrider Tenlie Greenhandler Serissa
Posts: 1,524
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Post by Ruby on Oct 8, 2010 17:44:43 GMT -5
Piden had just finished getting ready for bed - spending a part of the actual night with a day-person meant he got a bit of a nap around 'noon', and ended up staying up later into the morning. He was in his customary fluffy tan robe that so nearly matched Pidesk's sandy hide, a pair of loose-fitting pants, and his favorite furry slippers. The ones that looked like those adorable leporines, complete with fluffy tails and floppy ears. Leaning back in his chair with Pidesk as his footrest, a mug of tea in his hand, and a drowsy salamandyr apparently draped in every fold, he was pretty much the picture of relaxation.
Not a lot was going to change that, least of all some rude knock.
Piden ignored it completely, sipping his tea and allowing Shells to taunt the intruder, confident that whoever it was wouldn't hear through the door. Piden had been working on Shells' concept of space, and how 'loud' he should be, and the bronze was taking to it at least enough that Piden didn't have to constantly apologize to poor Nautic, who had the bad luck of being his only neighbor.
Even the roars of dragons and Pidesk's sudden alertness - those were big heat signatures - didn't manage to grab his attention. Only once the keening started, and voices wafted down the hall to Pidesk's sensitive ears, did Piden rouse himself, detaching the remaining two greens. "Stay here, my loves," he sighed, annoyance thick in his tone. Pidesk, though, wasn't about to let His go alone; the Bronze stuck to his handler like a big, lanky shadow. Better make sure His wasn't impolite to dragons.
Pausing to assess the situation, Piden decided Dmitri had the right idea. He'd caught some of the unknown Rider's speech, but unfortunately, the rider had underestimated the apathy most of the Handlers felt towards the day-people. Or Piden at least. He wasn't about to be provoked over them, although some lingering affection for Tira poked at the back of his mind. Maybe he did care. A little. About one of them who had apparently been avoiding him left and right... yep.
Pidesk skulked back halfway down the hall, his more sensitive eyes unable to handle even the diluted morning sun. Piden flopped into an armchair across from Dmitri but still in sight of the entrance, slung one arm up over the back of the chair and crossed his legs, resting the cottony tail of one bunny-slippered foot on the toe of the one below. Before Dmiti closed his eyes, Piden commented, "Seriously, they got me out of bed for this?"
Things seemed to be going from boring to possibly a problem, though, and the last thing Piden wanted right now was an escalating problem. Ximera, who he knew by reputation and proximity if not personally, had approached the invading riders. Tekivix seemed to have the reportedly odd girl under control, but no harm in drawing attention away as they retreated. Not to mention that Piden was kind of an asshole and arguably an idiot, and antagonizing people was second nature when he wasn't trying to get in their beds.
"So what'd you do?" he asked, jerking his chin towards the Greenrider in their hallway and raising his voice enough for it to carry. Leaving a pause for the expected 'what?', he went on, nonchalant. "What'd you do to get stuck down here, away from the action, with a bunch of Handlers who couldn't care one way or another if the dragons come out of this? We'll be in exactly the same position no matter who's in charge, we're not likely to throw our lives away over them. Didja stab yourself with your own knife, or something? Got a wingless dragon?"
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Post by rii on Oct 9, 2010 0:38:07 GMT -5
Knocking. Kostya ignored it, turning closer into the warmth next to him. His mind, though, was already drifting into a wakeful state, drawing out a muffled string of growling words from the blond. "If that's one'nuv your daylighters I'm breaking their fingers." The roaring, however, had Kostya bolting upright and crawling over Marsayis. The green handler rarely slept in his own bed; his friend well attuned to this particular quirk of desiring simple, unadulterated physical contact. A blind stumble to the door later, Kostya poked his head out into the hallway amidst R'ril's speech - Mirage viewing the curiosity from his hair. "Oh you won't believe this," Kostya commented quietly for his room mate's ears alone. "It seems we are in the process of being over thrown. They've killed one of the gold riders." He agreed with the words from the other handlers. What difference did it make to them what dragonriders were in control. "He's kind of cute, the one making threats. Sort of reminds me of the lordling boy." A dark amusement pulled his lips into a smile he directed at the greenrider, "I sort of miss the sight of blood on my hands. It's been a while. Maybe we should invite him to our room, hm?" The words were for Marsayis alone, but Kostya kept his eyes on the foreign dragonrider. The pale gaze only shifted at the movement from his fellow handler - Xi. Stupid girl. He understood her distress. Really, he did – yet in what world did the girl think approaching these invading riders was an option. Thankfully Vix was there, snatching the girl up and leading her back. .. to have a little pillow party with the moronic bronze. Yes, among the glowering Benden riders and echoing of keening dragons, Kostya found himself more concerned with the location of his fellow green handler. Pale eyes slitted, briefly, before he mentally dismissed it all. His bare shoulders found the wood of the doorway as he pivoted to look back inside his room; a hand still holding the door ajar. "Want a looksee?" __________ Down the hall, a door loudly slammed shut. Trapped. Trapped. Quintrell rapidly paced the length of his room. A finger wiggled between his lips where he continued to chew on the nails. He couldn't be trapped like this. There was always a way out. He just had to think. Yes. Not focus on the fact that they were cornered. The thief's heart rate continued to climb the more the flight instincts threaten to take over. This was bad. So very bad. Quintresk watched coolly from the floor, not all surprised when his handler suddenly crouched onto hands and knees in front of him, the panic swelling in the human's eyes. "You can between. Let's just go." Patiently the brown wher wove his long tail around the squirming thief, drawing him in closer. Not this time. "No, no, no. We really, really need to get out here. Please, please." Quintrell's hands were clasped now, begging his wher for mercy. The brown merely closed his eyes, now placing on claw over one of Trell's legs. They couldn't leave the young ones at a time like this, back then it was different. Now they had to stay so that they could help later - couldn't his understand this? "Please, please," Trell continued to mutter, hands beginning to shake at this point. "I don't want to help anyone. I just want to go. Go now. Can't stay. Won't stay." The scent of blood fill the room as the thief's attempted to recklessly free himself from his wher. Calmly Quintresk reached out for his pale, blue brother's. If they weren't busy, he could use some helping containing his - a pair of hands that were, preferably, not clawed.
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Post by glamourie on Oct 9, 2010 7:02:53 GMT -5
“If it is... punch them for me.”
Because yes, Marsayis could sleep through almost anything. The sound of dragons screaming as they died, Kostya sneaking into his furs at night to cuddle up to him (he was actually oblivious to that even), and, if allowed, even a hurricane. But speaking woke him up usually without fail, and Marsayis chose to respond to the speaking the way that anyone would – by grabbing the nearest pillow and promptly shoving it over his head to hold his hands over his ears, thus muffling the noise. It was all for moot, though, as the sound of a dragon screaming actually made his dark blue eyes flick open in agitation. He had the distant thought that the dragonriders needed to learn to control their menaces before someone did it for them and then he rolled over to find Kostya moving. Oh wonderful. He’d been comfortable. Groaning, he sat up, blankets pooling in his lap, and tossed the pillow from his hands over to the corner of the room, hitting Marsask in the head. The wher – who was wide awake and listening intently – jolted and sent a wave of very strong annoyance at His. How rude.
Something was going on. Marsask wanted to go out and find out what; he was curious, he was anxious and he was also afraid. Marsayis promptly stomped that urge out of him. No exploring. No adventuring until after he’d had a suitable amount of sleep and most assuredly no doing it when there was someone blathering on about how all powerful they were. It was rude, you see, to interrupt the would-be villains mid tyrannical tirade. He squinted and mumbled, “You forgot the evil laugh,” under his breath as Kostya said something about being overthrown. Shards.
“Why can’t they overthrow us at night like civilized people? I thought the tactic was always strike at night. Did they not get a notice about that?”
Fact: Marsayis was very grumpy when he first woke up. Swinging his legs over the side of the furs, he brought one hand up and rubbed his temple. His head throbbed. That second bottle of wine was almost always a mistake. He stood up and ambled over toward the door, leaning on the wall so as not to crowd Kostya, and rubbed his temples. The comment about the Lord Holder’s son made him smile – it was a very, very cold expression, and it made Marsask whine softly; he glanced at the wher and he calmed. Of his three mindmates, surprisingly enough, he got along best with the one that didn’t talk. Or maybe it wasn’t really that surprising at all.
Ooh, a look. Blinking through the sleep-fogged haze, Marsayis leaned over and looked right over Kostya’s head, since he was taller than the blond by a few inches. A slender eyebrow raised, and then a smile passed over his face before he turned to put his back on the wall again. Speaking quietly, rather than so that anyone but Kostya could hear him, he tacked on, “He’s very much your type. Looks like the type to like taking it.” He licked his lips and then slid down the wall before commenting, “Why do we always end up in places that are absolute rubbish, I wonder? I’m electing to blame you for this. You impressed the wherthing before me.” The word ‘ugly’ made Marsask perk his head and he kind of wanted to bite the invader on the bum for the insult. He was not ugly. Marsayis glanced over at Kostya before tacking on, “Did you say they killed the Goldhandler? I didn’t catch all of it.” He wasn’t paying attention. He was trying to sleep!
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Tashe
Shiny Hoarder
Weyrwoman Kaegan Dragonhealer E'rro Rider K'thay Woodcrafter E'iah Healer Raylanne Healer Ithanna Harper Zemaren [color=0BDA5
"When the Butterfly emurges, does the caterpillar no longer exist?"
Posts: 1,401
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Post by Tashe on Oct 9, 2010 17:54:15 GMT -5
Farnath were they simply grimy. Nautic wasn't entirely one for feeling like he was plastered with the grainy muck from inside of a cave, but because it was his Job he didn't care as much as he would. Of course, Eikane would throw a fit if he got any of it in their Apartment and didn't clean it up. Silly man. Patting Nautsk on the shoulder the Minemaster yawned and itched his scalp. "What a night. I'm glad we found collapse in tunnel B. I've got to make a note to add reinforcements to that area." Stupid mine. Too loud. Silence. A flurry of hissing ensued, started by his firelizard in order to combat his Salamandyr's rudeness. "Now you are the two being loud. We'll wake everyone up who's just gone to bed." He hushed at them until they settled, Nautsk helping him out as best she could. When they were all silent the only thing they could hear was the jingling of their equipment. Fishing a raw flake of Galaxite from his pocket, it was only the size of his fingernail and embedded in rock, Nautic inspected it as they traveled to their Room.
Footsteps disturbed his concentration. Nautsk was keenly swinging her head too and fro, rumbling quietly. Something was wrong, the Green told him. She heard keening of Dragons and smelled humans she did not know. And then suddenly, there were foreigners everywhere. Nautsk pushed him against the wall and put herself between them. Herding him through the door to their Apartment before shutting it with her tail. Because this was their Personal Apartment, not the one they shared with Eikane, he didn't know how his Weyrmate was faring. Quickly, Nautic released the harness off of his Green and let it clatter to the floor. "Tizzy, Abby stay here!" Seconds later there was a pounding on his door and roaring in the hall.
Cautiously he poked his head out the door to listen to the Dragonrider as he spoke. His face evolved from fear to anger. He watched the reactions of his fellow Wherhandlers and rubbed his dirt streaked face. In truth he was afraid and so was Nautsk, she desperately wanted to be were Dmisk was but he wouldn't let her leave. He didn't want to take any chances with her. Closing the door behind him with a click, just to make sure Nautsk wouldn't escape, the Greenhandler quickly breezed into the common area and sat down, his tool belt and all, on the floor between Piden and Dmitri. Although he flicked the former hard on the leg when the Bronzerider posed his question. "Twit. You have such a loose tongue. Usually, Northern Dragonriders don't take well to offense." Although he didn't agree with the man on not caring. He had friends who were Riders and he'd very much prefer it if they pulled through. But he made no mention of it.
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Ember
Administrator
T'san Iskierka Dy'shi Jazheera Ae'on Nephele Qaena K'dem Eikane
FLAME GURU OF THE UNDERWORLD
Posts: 1,832
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Post by Ember on Oct 11, 2010 0:54:12 GMT -5
Oh yawn! They apparently weren't even going to try and take advantage of the fact that they were largely defenceless against their whers! Boo! Or so was R'ril's conclusion when the first few didn't bother with that tactic. Given he was relatively stable for the moment it didn't bother him too much. If he died he couldn't play later when it would be fun. None of the dragonriders made any move to stop anyone from going towards the couches.
The girl that approached the rider's directly was met with a brilliant smile on R'ril's part. A mask, and nothing more. Such cry babies had so little spirit.... The bluerider accompanying him shook the girl off as a little protector approached. "What good is an empty weyr to us?" The man growled. "Assuming this X'rx doesn't fight he wouldn't be slaughtered like your Immunis wing." R'ril tsked. "Now, now, L'kor. That's not very nice language. Can't you see she's worried?" To Ximera, and all present, he said, "We have no intention of killing everyone."
Eikane had heard the knocking and popped his head out to investigate a little belatedly. He knew the situation from Eikask though. She'd been listening. What he saw just tired him out even more. Dmitri, Piden, and Nautic had the right idea...sort of. The bronzehandler oughtn't have said what he did though. He watched as the greenrider turned his attention of Piden. "Hmm?" R'ril intoned curiously. His smile brightened somewhat at the insult. That one might be fun.... "Not bad, but you're a little off. If my dragon was wingless I'd be dead. Think more carefully when you insult me. Also, for the record, I chose this job."
When the man was done talking, Eikane emerged fully from his apartment. "That's enough of that," he said sharply, looking at Piden when he said it. His voice held more command than he normally employed but for the sake of keeping order he'd do it. "Either go back to bed or shut up and wait for these dragonriders to leave," Eikane said as he began to move towards the couches. He was not the most diplomatic when he was tired. Eikask stepped out from the apartment once and barked comfortingly at all the whers present. Look, look. She was calm. All was fine.
With that Eikane headed towards the couches and flopped on one next to Dmitri. "How much you wanna bet no one listens to me?" He muttered to the other Harper. R'ril, meanwhile, had another announcement. In the momentary quiet the goldhandler seemed to instill he cleared his throat and said, "Good news! Your Weyrwoman was smart and surrendered. I'd say you should be happy but you clearly don't give a damn anyways."
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Ruby
Shiny Hoarder
Jr.Weyrwoman Caden Bronzehandler Piden Bluerider M'kai Bluerider T'ri Greenrider Tenlie Greenhandler Serissa
Posts: 1,524
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Post by Ruby on Oct 11, 2010 2:00:36 GMT -5
"Offense? What offense? I was merely curious," Piden assured Nautic, his tone deceptively sweet. The Wherhandlers probably knew him well enough to detect the sarcasm, but R'ril certainly wouldn't know any better. Speaking of R'ril... "Again, no insult intended, but you have a fair point about the dragon. Can't say I'd have made the same choice in your position, though. Just, you know, hypothetically." The fuzzy bathrobe-clad Handler kept his tone neutral and friendly; just making small talk, of course. Nothing more sinister. Basically, as long as he kept the Greenrider talking, Piden was 100% sure no one would be killed - good old villian monologue type situation, right here. Quiet just made people antsy.
Eikane's snap got a glance and a good-natured shrug, and Piden lapsed into silence, settling more comfortably into the couch. With that attitude, they certainly weren't going anywhere fast, he commented to Pidesk; at least he'd been providing entertainment. Pidesk, pacing in the darkness, pointedly ignored his handler, broadcasting what calm he could to Piden and the other Whers. Nautsk was safe in her room, Yosk was nowhere to be seen, and the youngest of the Whers were staying back well enough. His adopted brothers and sisters were safe, under his and Eikask's care; as long as His didn't do anything really stupid. The oldest Bronze slunk up to Eikask's side, squinting against the light flitering down the hallway. Pidesk rarely bemoaned his domestic heritage, but today he did.
R'ril's latest announcement was met with a quirk of Piden's lips. Oh good, some goldrider he'd never met wasn't dead, he could go back to celebrating life like he did every day! He opened his mouth to say some of this, but Pidesk's sudden clamp on his mind shut the Handler up before even the first sound could pass his lips. With a sigh, he rolled his eyes at Eikane, and crossed his legs the other way. Boring Goldriders were clearly boring.
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Tashe
Shiny Hoarder
Weyrwoman Kaegan Dragonhealer E'rro Rider K'thay Woodcrafter E'iah Healer Raylanne Healer Ithanna Harper Zemaren [color=0BDA5
"When the Butterfly emurges, does the caterpillar no longer exist?"
Posts: 1,401
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Post by Tashe on Oct 11, 2010 3:22:22 GMT -5
Nautic snorted and tugged nervously at his dirt streaked tunic. Piden wasn't a great stress reliever at all, in fact he was more likely to be the cause of it than anything else. He continued to fidget until Eikane made an appearance. Nautic was visually relieved to see his Weyrmate wasn't hurt, or worse, dead. He could breath a little easier now he knew for certain the Goldhandler was alright. Liking a person this much was certainly hard on the emotions in times like these, that was for sure. Nautic wanted to go and curl up next to Eikane, taking momentary shelter in his presence. But seeing as these Riders had Northern accents, the Greenhandler decided that announcing he was in a relationship with the other man was probably not the best thing to do so early in the game. He knew that Northern Riders didn't approve of same sex couples. Nautic tossed a glance at Eikane before refocusing his eyes back on his lap.
Fiddling with the piece of dark rock that he had slipped out of his pocket, the Wherhandler bit his lip. Although his concentration was pulled away by R'ril's next announcement. "What?" Things had to be bad if the Weyrwoman was forced to surrender so quickly. Had there even been a resistance from the Selenitas Wings? They can't have fallen so quickly... "Which Weyrwoman? The Weyrwoman, or one of the Juniors?" He was concerned. Nautsk had told him, after Absinthe had tuned in on Dragon chatter, that one of the Golds was dead. But he still didn't know which one. "Not good news at all."
He squirmed and leaned back against the leg of Piden's couch, nervously twirling a small coin like object across his fingers. It was a detachable weight he could tie a string to and measure the depths of things with. More quietly he said. "Why should we be happy... our lives were invaded." Reaching out to Nautsk, he took solace in the familiar feeling of her Mind. Lovely Wher, pretty wher, strong wher. He offered her his love and she returned it two fold, she was worried more about him than about herself.
~~~
Meanwhile Absinthe was throwing a tantrum about being left in the room. Complaining to all of her fellow salamandyrs (and even the flitters) who occupied the Apartments. Bad stupid riders. Is more angry than height dragon fly. She seethed. Hope fall into dung they do. Get bashed faces. Bitten by big wild hissers. Trampled by wild piggies. Agree yes? All agree? Where was her wine when she really needed it! Growling she clamped onto the species confused Flitter and sat on his back. She knew he didn't like being left behind with the Big Green one any more than she did.
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Requiem
Weyrleader S'rei WM M?ta Rider A'nd Harper/Handler Dmitri Weyrbrat Miguel
Posts: 2,861
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Post by Requiem on Oct 11, 2010 12:23:42 GMT -5
Dmisk lifted his head, causing Dementia to hiss at him and dig her little claws into his muzzle. Quintresk's was panicking, was he? Oh, yes, now he could scent the blood coming from that direction. Humans were ever so exciteable at times. He reached out to his brown brother to let him know that His would be along shortly, then mentally nudged his handler, who had adjusted to a half-lounging, half-sitting position at the arrival of Piden and Eikane. Dmitri eyed Piden for a long moment. "You look cuddly. We should stuff you." He snorted softly. Apparently that was his only comment regarding Piden's antagonism. If the riders took exception to it, well, that was something the bronzehandler would have to deal with.
The bluehandler directed a wan smile Eikane's way. "Seems he's listening. For him." His voice lowered. "Quintresk is having trouble with Quintrell. Come with me?" His dark eyes fell on Nautic and he leaned forward, resting a hand on the fidgeting greenhandler's shoulder. "Come on, Nautic. Need your help with something," he murmured. His gaze flicked toward R'ril, then. "Not much of one, anyway," he agreed drolly. "But then, I don't give a damn about much. Going back to bed now. Feel free to just...flit away. Or not. Don't really care." He flicked his fingers dismissively at the rider and rose from the couch, stretching and ambling lazily past the riders. Down the hall.
Once he got outside Quintrell's door, he hesitated for a moment. Dmitri was a lightweight, and Quintrell had overpowered him before when panicky, but hopefully Quintresk still had him at least moderately taken care of. An attempt to escape now would probably still be death for the handler. Well, he could only try. A glance back to see if Eikane and Nautic had followed, then he pushed open the door and stepped inside quickly, using his body to block the way out as he advanced with every intention of getting the young man beneath the armpits and holding on for dear life.
Ximera blinked dully at the hand around her wrist, clearly not quite comprehending what Tekivix was saying. Ximesk whined again, twisting around suddenly when the dragonrider shook his handler off, sending her stumbling backwards and clutching at Tekivix, the tears suddenly coming in a silent flood. The blue's muzzle pulled back, displaying his fangs and he let loose a low growl, his rotund frame wedged firmly between the rider and His. What was wrong with the icky-smelling human? Ximesk was tempted to take a bite and see if he had something weird in his blood to make him act that way, but the blue knew His wouldn't like it if he started gnawing on people, so he settled for just bristling.
The small girl buried her face into Tekivix's chest. She hadn't really heard what the rider had said, just his tone, and his tone was frightening. Ximera felt Ximesk's mind nudging lightly at her. They should walk. Yes, they should walk away, or he'd definitely be tempted to gnaw on the man's arm, and she didn't want that, did she? The girl stilled. That it took a moment's consideration, the answer to that question, said much. Ximesk coiled around the two handlers and sunk his teeth into the back of Tekivix's pants. More than one way to get people moving. Yes. He began tugging the greenhandler along back toward the apartment he shared with the bronzepair, dragging Ximera along for the ride; she wasn't letting go.
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Avu
Weyrleader Ce'thian Rider A'emi Handler Sena Harper Matteo Weyrbrat Riaren
Posts: 2,439
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Post by Avu on Oct 11, 2010 19:31:49 GMT -5
He managed not to flinch away from the tone of the Rider, swallowing, replacing it with a scowl—all bark and no bite. Didn’t think the Riders, any of them, would hurt them; they weren’t a threat, were they, the wherhandlers, without strong ties to the dragonriders, but the threat of it still was there. He pulled Ximera against him, the physical contact as much a reassurance to him as it was intended to be for the bluewherling. Lips found her hair, an unfamiliar gesture of comfort that felt right, arms wrapping around the girl automatically as he tried to walk backwards, away from the Riders, narrowing his eyes in a helpless glare over Ximera’s head.
Eikane was utterly ignored in favor of jumping nearly a foot in the air at the tug at the back of his pants, Vix twisting around and jerking forward in wide-eyed surprised at Ximesk’s attempts at pulling him along. He’d been going as fast as he could without tripping, calm down. Didn’t hiss that at Ximesk, though, instead focusing on just dragging Ximera back, half-murmuring and half-babbling nonsensical reassurances into the bluewherling’s hair. He walked right into Darmori upon reaching the room, one arm unwinding from Ximera’s shoulders to grab blindly at the doorframe for support, punctuating his words with a thoughtless “oh fuck”.
Tekivisk was on them in less time it took Vix to get in the room, the green whining in fervent adoration as she rubbed her head against his thigh, trying to worm in between Vix and Ximera, please, please, VixLove, she just needed him, please—the wash of vivid terror from her had Vix stuttering, swallowing, “Okay, okay—‘ki, please hang on, Darmosk, could you—are you okay?” The last was aimed at Ximera, Vix’s hands finding her shoulders and attempting to put some space between himself and the girl in order to see her face. That, and the proximity, while comforting at first, had quickly become awkward—didn’t know if he was doing it right, the whole reassurance thing.
Tekivisk whined, soft and nervous, edging to peer out the door, flinching as if she expected to be shoved back. Konstaaaask…sisterlove, the soft touch thin with anxiety, was she okay…? She and Hers and their roommates, they were just fine, weren’t they, please be okay—Tekivisk pawed uneasily at the ground, snuck a glance down the hall at the Riders, and then backed into the room again, tail swishing uneasily, why couldn’t Konstask just bring Hers over to their room too, and Marsask and His (never mind that she didn’t know the blue or His), then they could just all be in the same place and she wouldn’t have to worry…
“Can we close the door?” A glance at Darmori, “Unless you want to keep watch but I don’t—” Think there was anything they could do. Because there wasn’t, and the door, while it wasn’t strong, it was still some small illusion of safety.
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Post by rii on Oct 12, 2010 11:40:02 GMT -5
Kostya couldn't help but laugh at Marsayis's comments, not bothering to hinder the sound – cold and bordering on cruel – from being heard by the foreign riders. His eyes narrowed on R'ril, pleasantly amused. The gaze soon shifted back to Marsayis. "Gold dragon rider. I don't know which one. The handler one is very much alive and trying to be bossy." The way one shoulder raised in a shrug showed how much he cared about any clarification. His nose wrinkled, "I believe it was you who wanted to come south." The sly smile quickly returned, "Might as well make the most of misfortunes, hm?" The blond didn't need to explain further – not to Marsayis. Kostya's pale gaze returned to the green rider, chiming in after the words meant for Piden. "Did you? Now why would you do that, I wonder. Have a sick fascination with ugly whers? Or.. " The tone dipped suggestively, Kostya's eyes trailed over the green rider while letting Marsayis finish the thought. Mirage didn't wait, though, sending a quick flash of bloody images at R'ril. Her's mind was in a very dark place. Konstask huffed from where she occupied Kostya's unused bed. She was not ugly, and she didn't appreciate him saying it even in jest. With an exaggerated stretch – to show just how elegant her slender frame of jade and emerald was – the green wher climbed down. She rubbed cat-like along Marsask, a trill sounding in her through as she briefly curled her tail around him. Her early morning ritual of greeting her brother drawing short at Tekivisk's mental touch. With no real grasp on the situation, or just blatantly not caring, The green slipped through the doorway and padded lightly down the hall. Of course she was alright – if only annoyed that she had been rudely woken by the noisy dragons. Why did her sister sound distressed? And why couldn't Tekivisk and hers just come to their room instead. Konstask knew that hers would have preferred Tekivisk's with him, and not the other way around. Did not like to share with the others, no he didn't. (But that was okay, Konstask wasn't fond of sharing either). The green was just moving toward the room containing the three handlers and whers, when she suddenly found the door shut in her face. Konstask blinked, forced to sit back on her haunch as she looked up at the barrier. Well, wasn't that rude. __________ "Let go!" Quintrell trashed, the sound of clothing ripping as he scrambled across the stone toward – light! In full blown panic, the thief didn't stop to think that getting out through the open door wasn't a full escape. It was pure animal instinct. He'd run, trash.. bite and claw his way to freedom. His wher was trying, with little success, to push his mind down over his handler's panic. The small thief was blocking him out, even more so when he shifted to seeing the brown wher as an obstacle to get around. Blood flicked across the floor as Quintrell moved for the opening. Bodies barred the path – but unarmed. He dipped low under Dmitri's long attempt at a grab. One leg sliding along the stone with how low he stooped, easing past the tall harper's legs with ease and riding on momentum. A punch was thrown at the groin of the second person to attempt to stall him. Quintrell pushed off the grounded foot, reading to spring forward into the hall when more hands pulled at him. The true stop to his forward motion came as a painful jerk. Quintresk had seized his ankle, and not kindly. His teeth sank into flesh as he pulled back, forcing the thief to flop flat on his stomach amidst the other handlers. Trell growled angrily, "Get yer fuckin' hands off me."
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Post by glamourie on Oct 12, 2010 23:40:10 GMT -5
Oh, goldrider. There were three of them, right? Oh well. No big loss! Didn’t affect him any. Come to think of it, the Goldhandler croaking didn’t really affect him any, either. He didn’t care much for anyone at Selenitas. It wasn’t that he was cold, per say, although Marsayis had a healthy dose of disinterest in the world around him as a whole. No, it was simply that he hadn’t spend much time with these people and thus he couldn’t have formed an emotional attachment to them at all. The thought was interrupted by the sound of speaking from out the door and Marsayis grumbled and grabbed his robe from beside the furs to tug it on and peek around Kostya again. (Why yes, he did sleep naked, thank you very much.) A few figures he recognized, one as the bronze handler – honestly, did they really think for one second that mouthing off to the invaders was going to somehow convince them to leave and let them go? “Why hello sir, if you wouldn’t mind, you’re inconveniencing me terribly by invading my Weyr and I would like it very much if you would not do so. Thanks so much, the Wherhandlers.” And golden-boy babbling something that sounded like orders didn’t help their case any; Marsayis was tempted to call him a pansy to his face, but it wouldn’t really do any good and that took energy.
“I wanted to make marks. I didn’t really plan on coming to live here.” He hadn’t, though he found it hard to truly resent Marsask. The blue was too… he was hard to dislike. Deserved to be, certainly, but very hard to dislike. Ah, but not the time for arguing, entertainment numero uno was on the move~ (metaphorically speaking).
And talking to the annoying bronze handler. Marsayis did not find him hot, therefore, he didn’t really deem him worth acknowledging. That was the bluehandler’s thoughts, but it was interrupted momentarily by a flood of confusion from Marsask before it faded. He turned and slinked out of the room after Kostya, completely unafraid, his black robe just barely fastened around his front. It was rare to see him without some kind of hat to hide his face from view, or his hair styled to the same ends, but the long dark strands were tucked behind his ears so that his blue eyes could fix quite neatly on the invader’s face. He circled around the one with marks indicating a greenrider and then stopped to the side of him opposite Kostya, one hand coming up to bat at his hair. His fellow handlers were temporarily ignored (he really had no use for the bronze one with the big mouth – what was he hoping to accomplish, really, and was it worth it to make himself look like an ass?) as a pleasant smile passed over his face. Marsayis was not a pleasant individual but he could at least fake it. Sometimes.
“Or significantly prettier handlers?” The question was finished with a light quip before he tacked on, all too boldly, “Are you having fun playing with Red over there? ‘Cause, if you ask me…” He leaned forward to whisper against the older man’s ear, very quietly, “… he’s kind of boring. You’re welcome to come play with us. We won’t bore you.”
Might send him back to his masters in pieces, but boring was something that he and Kostya were perfectly capable of avoiding. He had so many pretty toys and so little chance to use them here in the south. And blood was an unbelievable turn on. Greenie didn’t need to know that. Besides, he’d have most thoroughly enjoyed himself. Marsayis was positive of that. Who wouldn’t enjoy themselves with dark and light? Was he taking a risk in being too close to them? Possibly. Oh well. He wasn’t making any threats or trying to be dangerous… for a reason. See how cute he was, he was harmless. (Okay, he didn’t look harmless, but that was irrelevant. “Unless you prefer redheads. Some people do.” He sniffed. “Fiery and what have you. Found that stereotype disappointing in experience. For both genders, really.”
What was going on? Marsask whined softly, his eyes following Konstask as she disappeared out of the room – leaving him alone. He was normally uncomfortable with females, but being around her a lot meant he didn’t find the green intimidating anymore. What he did find worrisome was His being brave-stupid. Standing up, the dark blue wher shook himself and then turned to wind around Kostya, seeking the comfort of touch. He wanted to go out after His, but His was giving him a resounding no; probably because he wanted to bite them. Bite them because His was in danger out there. Nononono…
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