Avu
Weyrleader Ce'thian Rider A'emi Handler Sena Harper Matteo Weyrbrat Riaren
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Post by Avu on Feb 11, 2009 17:11:25 GMT -5
You are /not/ going to make Millieth's do this. /You/ wrote the Wings, so /you/ do it.
T'rid was in the middle of almost panicking. Almost being the key word, because he wasn't quite there yet. The bronzerider was digging through his trunk again, hissing quietly as Stupid twisted around his ankle with a small croon. Gogogogo stupidmine, gogogo! "Shut up Stupid -- can't you please make him shush, Corinth? -- or Mir. I don't care. Make him stop, he's annoying and I can't find my pants, and -- OUCH! Stupid!" The brown darted up his leg, claws scratching, as T'rid hopped ridiculously, one hand snaking down to pull Stupid off of his leg while Corinth and Mir eyed him impassively. "You're supposed to be helping me, not acting like -- like I'm some amusing act!" Mir twittered sweetly at him, clearly not understanding what his Bonded was demanding, and Corinth merely crooned, clearly finding amused by the young bronzerider's difficulties. Stupid latched onto his wrist and curled up there, flushing with smugness. Just find your pants and let's go, the bronze insisted, crossing his forelegs and blinking impatiently at T'ridhis.
"But I don't want to..."
Too bad. Let's go. How sympathetic, and just what he'd expected. T'rid grimaced and glared, and, grabbing his pants, jerked them on, hissing slightly as Stupid protested the motion and bit the web between forefinger and thumb. "Ouchouchouch...okay, okay! Let's go..." Do you have the list? Of Wingleaders and seconds, and - ? "Yes, I've /got/ it! Damnit, Corinth, what on Pern possessed you to make me put K'lir in our wing - ? Can't I change h - " Too late. Let's go. /NOW/, Corinth insisted, the bronze's eyes starting to flare with anxiety as he pranced once on the weyrledge. Firmly detatching Stupid from his hand, T'rid buckled the belt looped around his pants and then gave an undignified scramble to avoid Stupid latching onto him again, managing to grab onto Corinth and pull himself up.
"Gogogogo now!" T'rid's words were lost as Corinth dropped from the edge of the weyrbowl, winging towards the Main Hall swiftly. Stupid's high protest rang out behind him. Nononono bad stupidmine! No doubt he wanted to be there to see the pretty greenlings, or some other ridiculous theory. Whatever. T'rid leaned over Corinth's shoulder, watching through slightly narrowed eyes as the Weyr whipped past. As the Main Hall neared, he nudged Corinth lightly with his heel. "Can't we - you know, just - just keep flying? And...not land?" You're being ridiculously antisocial. You're Weyrleader - "No thanks to /you/..." - and you wrote the Wings - "Against my will..." - and /you/ have to present it. "Fine..."
Was he sulking? (Again?) Oh, completely. He didn't like the new wings - actually, he hated them. He was sure he must have been drunk - or sleep-deprived or high or something - when Corinth had persuaded him to putting K'lir and Calistoth onto his wing, and he barely knew his Wingsecond, and he just didn't care. And now this Promotion Dinner. Gah. Just - gah. As the bronze touched down, backwinging neatly to take the small space, he crooned in soft affection. We're here, T'ridmine. Good luck. The stinging reply drew an amused rumble from the bronze as T'ridhis slid down his shoulder and touched down lightly, and the bronzerider squinted, watching as Corinth lifted off to leave the area unoccupied for other dragons' landing.
"Great..." With a sigh, the Weyrleader made an undignified hop forward, and then settled into his normal pace, speeding into the Main Hall and ducking around the Drudges who had begun to set out food. The ranker's table loomed, and he realized with a slight grimace that tonight, it would probably be full as the new Wingleaders and the seconds took their place (and promptly got delightedly drunk). Plopping himself down at the center, though he longed to be seated at the end, T'rid glanced down the table and then leaned back in the chair. He'd studied the ceiling ever-so-intently at the Hatching Feast and he fully intended on doing it again, tonight.
Promotion Dinner. Must it occur?
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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
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Posts: 3,021
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Post by Rei on Feb 11, 2009 20:18:50 GMT -5
Just freakin fantastic. Why had she come to this cruddy weyr if there were no eggs to be had and no proper way to teach prospective dragon riders? Malara was in foul mood, as usual, and kicked a chair as she entered the dinning hall. Sure she wasn’t exactly invited. She just had to serve food for the idiot rankers. Well she was sorry if some of them got spit in their food.
That thought cheered the candidate up some, and she threw her blonde hair back to fix a glare at the only person currently in the room. T’rid. He was obviously a ranker but she really could care less. She breezed past him haughtily and spun around to address him, putting so much fake sweetness into her tone it was likely to make someone gag. “Excuse me oh exalted bronze rider. May I pour you some wine?”
She tapped her foot impatiently as she waited for an answer. Hopefully he wasn’t as brainless as his lackluster appearance suggested. He was far to frumpy and gloomy to be bonded to such a powerful color. Her thoughts drifted to the upcoming flitter clutch she had heard gossip about. Perhaps she should try to acquire one of the creatures. Everything could be forced into usefulness in some way after all.
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Post by antinanco on Feb 12, 2009 13:24:25 GMT -5
Cornith and his have left, Ri-love, Angth announced from his ledge, triangular head pointed skyward. Inside the Weyr his rider, W’ri, quickly splashed some water onto his face from his basin. "Justa second!” he called, “’Sides, didn’ we just have a Hatchin’ Feast?”
The dragon’s figure passed into the high-ceiling room for a moment, riding straps already in place and glistening with a new coat of oil. This is for Wings! We’re only going because our place is moved, but it’ll still be lots of fun!
W’ri gasped and froze, suppressing a Candidate-girl squeal. Usually he hated Wings, since it reminded him how much he hated flying, but today it was different. “Ya don’t think…?” Sure, he was a somewhat senior rider, being one of a select group that could remember the Weyr before Shmee’s time. But W’ri still was an unknown rider of a small, ungraceful blue with a fear of heights, a horrible combination. Really, the only chance he had at getting in the Weyrleader’s wing was that T’rid was inexperienced with putting Wings together, or that some unknown force had decided to smile upon him that day. Well, it certainly would make up for the River Incident, by any rate.
If we’re lucky!
[/i] Angth rumbled contently in response as if he knew something his rider did not, But…I hope he does not resent us intruding on that poor little greenweyrling. Oh, what was her name again…?[/i] By Faranth! Raylin! I better do somethin’ ta make up for it!Angth watched with amused myrtle eyes from his ledge as his rider rushed around his Weyr in attempts to come up with a last minute ‘I love you in a manly way so please put me in your Wing’ gift. His trunk had nothing but clothing and mothballs, and his one shelf had only a fine layer of dust over some of his older scrolls. He even resorted to looking under his cot, and was surprised to find a half-dead clump of petals that must have drifted in from the jungle on a breeze. Finally, as he shifted uncomfortably under his riding straps, the blue ushered, May we go now, mine?[/i] The bluerider sighed and looked at the wilting flower that rested in the palm of his hand. “’suppose so,” he exhaled again and stuffed the dying plant into the pocket of his formal riding trousers. The blue offered his foreleg as a vault up and W’ri took it, sailing smoothly into his saddle. “Take me there!” he insisted valiantly, feeling a surge of energy rising in his chest. That sensation, however, bottomed out rapidly as Angth leapt off of his ledge and the rider got a view of the ground below. Instantly his eyes snapped shut and he clung to his straps with white knuckles. The fear he felt was like being dosed in ice-cold water, the effects still lingering even as Angth landed on the Main Hall’s ledge next to the much bigger Cornith with a respectful dip of his head. Stumbling off his mount, W’ri woozily made his way to the feast. By the time he passed through the Dining Hall’s double doorway, the bluerider had mostly shaken off his case of the shivers. Making his way to a seat, he was surprised to see only T’rid and a blonde server-girl already there. Nervously, he saluted enthusiastically to one and waved to the other. [/center][/font]
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Post by dragon on Feb 12, 2009 16:47:26 GMT -5
E'yan strolled across the ground on his own two feet, hands in his pockets as he hummed a malencholy tune. Normally, it would have been a cheerful tune, but this soon after the Weyrwoman's death? He couldn't bring himself to do it. Not to mention if he had? People would have thought he was happy she was gone ... and that wouldn't be good. That'd put him square in the suspicious corner.
Beside him strolled Kindrith. The blue was rather malencholy as a matter of rote. So it was no surprise to see the old blue with a scowl stuck to his draconic features. The pair stopped when they reached the river, and E'yan vaulted aboard before Kins waded across the river. There, E'yan slid off again and made his way up into the main hall. Something was going on today... he wasn't sure what, yet, but something was going on. And he assumed he should be there to see what it was.
~~~
Dorava brushed out her hair again, and pinned the sides up and back, instead of just braiding the whole lot together. With that, and a new green blouse with tiny ruffles for decoration, she made her way to Aonith. Who was eager to get going. Never mind it was only a hop to the main hall ... she could fly there! Which was completely exciting!
The green was completely reveling in her newfound ability to fly. And she lingered in the air as she took hers to the hall. They had heard about a dinner occassion or something. What for, they didn't know yet. But Dorava was going to be there, and presentable at that!
Aonith dropped hers off at the hall, and then moved off to settle next to where Corinth was sitting. Hi! She greeted, simply, as Dorava walked into the hall proper. She found herself a seat in an inconspicuous location, and settled down to wait and see what happened.
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Post by hseru on Feb 12, 2009 18:46:27 GMT -5
Well, if there was a large and fancy dinner to be had somewhere, S'lain would be certain to hear about it. Perhaps the blue rider had a sixth 'food' sense that alerted him to these kinds of things, or maybe just an ear for gossip. Either way, having spent his day in the infirmary, it was an easy matter to clean up the last patient's soiled bandages and clear his afternoon checklist in time to walk upstairs to the Main Hall.
How did I know you would be here? S'lain didn't have to look up to know who had just flown overhead looking for him, but he smiled nevertheless. You know me. Food and I attract each other. A muted laugh swirled through his mind, and he followed Jaxith mentally until he felt the blue settle into their weyr. Bring me back something tasty. And what, haul the whole dinner back up just to give you a mouthful? ..I'll look into it. Another laugh sounded, as the blue caught the stray thought directed his way, that of the rider keeping all the food for himself for later in the evening should hunger strike.
Grinning, S'lain continued his walk upstairs, having paused to the side to have the brief conversation and allow others to pass. He would have likely bumped into someone otherwise while 'watching' Jaxith land. He was glad to find the place not yet full, and he selected an empty seat at an empty table close to the front to make it seem like he was eager to hear what the feast was about.
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Post by ravenmane on Feb 12, 2009 19:20:27 GMT -5
If it was any consolation to T'rid, P'nor was even grumpier if that was possible...
He didn't want to know anything about the new Wings or Promotions, and he especially didn't want to be around any of the current or ex Weyrleaders aka Ka'rys or T'rid. P'nor was not one to be reliable, and he was, waiting to hear what had been decided about his fate, but he swore, if he was in any Wing with Ka'rys or T'rid, he would 1) cry, 2) die, or 3) pack up his things and take Cyanth to a small island and live there until Millieth Rose and T'rid was no longer Weyrleader or until both Benden and Fort came to their senses. Most likely the first choice would happen.
Be happy you even get the chance to prove yourself after last time. Cyanth's voice was perky and annoyingly so. I still haven't forgiven you. P'nor growled as he quickly moved by the Buffet Table, snatched some treats (especially sweets), and retreated to one of the tables in the farthest corner away from the long table in front. "I hate Promotion Feasts." He was about to dig into his food when Athol appeared with Squee clinging haphazardly to the fire-lizard's food. His eyes narrowed. "Behave tonight or both of you are being in the Weyr's next meal. Athol chirped obediently and bounced onto P'nor's shoulder while Squee scuttled under the table with a piece of cake firmly in his jaws. Like he said, he hated Promotion Feasts....
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Post by glamourie on Feb 14, 2009 2:57:15 GMT -5
Do you intend to stay for the whole feast or are you making an appearance just to make an appearance? Ciceroth inquired curiously from his perch on Hepaticath's weyrledge. He was visiting the young gold, which left his rider to fend for himself in terms of traveling. The bronze felt no shame. RysHis could use the exercise. I think you should stay. Millieth's might like the moral support, and so will Corinth's, even if neither of them will ask for it. Or are you still sulking that your wing is now called the 'Blizzard Wing'? I think it fits -- you and blizzards have a lot in common.
"I'm coming for 'vi, and I do not sulk. I wasn't sulking at all over the name. He gave me all the idiots! .. Plus Aliscia! ... I'm stuck with R'non and you're stuck with Rath, you cannot possibly tell me you don't find that infuriating," Ka'rys said with a snarl as he adjusted his belt. Kalerary was sound asleep in his furs, and R'wign was actually draped next to her, the healer having been up with the little girl for the majority of his off-hours. Honestly, Ka'rys was impressed, considering that R'wign was usually at the infirmary. When he wasn't, the brownrider was dedicatedly taking care of Kale as though she was his own family. Ka'rys hadn't asked why he was so concerned, and R'wign hadn't said. He chose not to wake the brownrider up for the dinner, because he hadn't slept at all. Considering that he was hissing to himself and somehow the healer slept through it, he was guessing that the Journeyman needed the rest. "And I am not like blizzards in any manner of the word. You're not half as funny as you think you are, and I bet T'rid thought he was being witty too - I'm going to break his jaw so it has to be wired shut if he gives me any static. I couldn't care less about morale for him and Kaegan."
And if you could pick your own wingsecond, exactly who would you have picked, Rysmine? The bronze notably did not comment about Rath. He'd never made any secret to his rider about his disdain for most of the ranking dragons at Selenitas, but unlike some, Ciceroth was perfectly capable of being pleasant. And Rath was experienced. That meant they would have little teaching to do where he was concerned, and Ciceroth had no complaints about that. They could work together, so long as Rath behaved. Truthfully, though, he was worried about how Rath would react to Tanith and vice versa. Two former Benden dragons on the same wing was bound to end badly.
Ka'rys brushed his hands down over the black leggings he wore, then smoothed his dark green tunic with his fingers. Over all, he looked far more pleasant than usual. No over-sized gray shirts to speak of. The shirt was the one that Shmee made him. Never before had he worn it but... after her death, it seemed almost wrong to give it away or to let it rot in his trunk any longer. So he'd pulled it on and, to his surprise, it fit well. When she was measuring him, he had no clue. Shame he couldn't thank her for it. Not that she'd have responded well to that at all, but... He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, then turned to look out at the empty weyrledge. R'wign stirred in his furs, but didn't wake up. Kalerary on the other hand yawned, then crawled over and laid down right on top of the brownrider as if he was a pillow for exactly that purpose. Ka'rys eyed them for a moment, then ran his fingers through his hair.
"R'wign, probably." Those words got no response, likely because Ciceroth was unsure of how to feel. Ka'rys, pleased by his apparent victory, turned and slipped out of his weyr, leaving the two sleepyheads to their dreams. He'd never admit those words to R'wign if he was awake, either. Some things were better left unsaid.
The trudge to the main hall was a long one, but Ka'rys appreciated the chance to fume to himself. By the time he arrived at his destination, most of his anger was vented, and his self-control as well as discipline were all returned. The cold, aloof mask he often wore was once again on his face, even as he mentally raged. He had no desire to be a wingleader. He didn't like positions of authority at all, hadn't he proved that before? If he didn't think it would be a massive blow to his pride, he'd slack off until T'rid was forced to replace him... but unfortunately, Ka'rys thought too highly of himself to do anything of the sort. So he was stuck, at least until one of the queens rose, and then he'd be able to hide away. He was sure the new Weyrleader would replace him. He had enough people who disliked him at Selenitas for it to be accomplished efficiently. Maybe it would be R'non. He was sure R'non would replace him with someone else. Sure of it.
Rather than head over to the table where T'rid was sitting (looking, he noted, every bit his age -- ugh), Ka'rys made his way to one of the back walls and watched the arrivals with interest. His arms folded over his chest and little Ophelie settled on his shoulder, coming from between soundlessly. Her head butted against his chin, gently but with insistence, and he pet her with one finger. Dark brown eyes flicked around the room, noting the people who had arrived and were not yet there, but one question lingered in his mind:
Where was Savitri?
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Post by kysseh on Feb 14, 2009 3:45:19 GMT -5
She hated formalities.
Savitri stared at herself in the reflective surface as she worked to style her too-long hair into a workable sort of fashion. The longest lengths of her hair fell to the middle of her back now, and she grimaced at the realization of just how ridiculously long she had allowed it to become. She had just been tying the mess up into neat buns for the every day, but formal occasions demanded formal attire, which included a semi-decent hairstyle. The rest of her outfit was complete, from the soft-sided, flat-soled shoes on her feet to the white sleeveless shirt that showed off the scars marring the lightly tanned skin of her left arm. Her skirt was a light green of a shade to match her eyes, and the hem swirled luxuriously around her ankles when she turned. She disliked skirts as a general rule, but this one... this one she could tolerate. It wasn't for the dinner, after all. It was-
"Oh, for.... just give me that and sit down."
Savitri was surprised by the imperiousness of the voice behind her, and she turned just enough to eye Aliscia before plopping down in the chair that the greenrider had shoved up behind her. Aliscia had reluctantly allowed her infants to be babysat in the creche for the time, and the greenrider was dressed as nicely as she could permit for the occasion. Her tunic and pants were cut simply to cover some of the post-pregnancy thickness to her midsection, but Savitri thought the greenrider looked plenty formal. She envied her that and obediently passed over the comb and hairsticks when the greenrider, shorter by a full handspan, held out a waiting and impatient hand. Aliscia was eager to get this ordeal of a dinner over with.
"I envy you. Young and in love and all that ridiculousness," Aliscia commented without preamble as she began to work out the long tresses, ignoring Savitri's protests. "Stop babbling. Me saying 'love' doesn't mean you have to be a ridiculous female and fling yourself into his arms. Drop the holdborn idea of it; it doesn't have a place here. There isn't any certainty of living until a ripe old age and all of that ridiculousness," the greenrider lectured her rather severely, and Savitri watched the greenrider's reflection in the mirror as the smaller, older woman separated the layers of hair. Aliscia, for all that she was very different from Savitri, had been a steadfast friend, and Savitri found herself fond of the prickly greenrider. Of course, right now, she was rather mortified at how obvious her thoughts were to the other woman, and she wished Aliscia was not so observant, especially as the greenrider proceeded to form a simple bun out of the top layer of the hair and fixed it in place with the styled hairsticks.
M'ta...
Savitri had to swallow back a lump in her throat at the thought of the friend she had not seen in sevendays, and Aliscia saw the flicker of emotion before Savitri could stifle it. The greenrider's expression softened. "War has casualties, Savitri. Seize the time you have; you won't get much," the greenrider commented softly before moving off toward her dragon. "Hurry up before we're late, you. Or I'll make you walk in that ridiculous skirt." Back to her snarly self, Aliscia was, and Savitri scowled as she got to her feet, trying to not let her mind dwell too much on the ominous words. Not so soon after Shmee's death. She couldn't handle it now.
As she hastened to her ledge, she noted Ciceroth's presence and shook her head in amusement. Ciceroth, evidently, wanted to keep her sleeping Hepaticath company. "She's asleep. Feel free to wake her, though. She's slept nearly all day," the young woman commented to Ciceroth, lightly patting the great bronze on the foreleg in an obvious show of affection and then gesturing with one hand at the slumbering gold on her couch. His presence made her feel better about leaving Cath, and she leaned over to kiss the bronze's nose. "Thank you. Keep an eye on her for me, will you?" she said quietly before moving over to Aliscia and her impatient mindmate, seating herself gingerly on the green's neck and trying not to overly muss her skirt.
It was a lost cause. By the time Tanith deposited the two females at the main hall, Savitri was glad no one seemed to have witnessed her less than graceful dismount and resulting stumble as her feet hit the ground. Aliscia had the decency to not snicker too much and then let Savitri lead the way inside, ditching the goldrider for an uninhabited table. The older rider had no love for ranking riders, and Savitri resisted the urge to glare at her for the abandonment. Instead, the young queenrider moved to the table that T'rid already inhabited. Was she supposed to be here? She wasn't sure and could not bring herself to care, mostly because she did not see Kaegan and felt there should be some female presence there. She seated herself a few chairs from the weyrleader and offered him the politest smile she could manage, though it was barely civil. Her gaze kept drifting, seeking Ka'rys' familiar face in the room and not finding it.
"Weyrleader." It wasn't mocking. Just... barely polite, and she settled for that and settled into her selected chair, sighing softly as she failed to spot the other bronzerider in the crowd. Shard him. Maybe he was late, or maybe he was just ignoring the dinner. She wouldn't have put it past him to ignore this ridiculously formal celebration, though she did not deny its importance for the weyrfolk. The people needed the morale boost.
((Ewww, sorry for longness. D:))
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Post by hseru on Feb 14, 2009 17:32:26 GMT -5
K'roi ran a brush through his wet, frazzled hair, pulling the dark mass back into a low tail to try and tame it. He tried to wring out what he could with a towel to avoid that 'just ran down a wherry' sweating look in the back from the water dripping out of his hair. He was only partially successful, and the collar of his shirt ended up damp despite his efforts. He wasn't intending to dress all that snappy, but he liked looking nice. Hence the bath. Of course, the nearly naked flight back on Gareth had dried the rest of him rather nicely, even if it had given him that wind-tossed look. He was glad to have a weyr that wasn't easily accessible to the ground-locked, because he probably looked rather frightful upon landing, wearing only his breeks. He'd startle some poor drudge out of her skin, that's for sure. The idea made him grin.
He slipped into the rest of his clothes, consisting of a clean white shirt and trim bronze pants, the ends tucked into tough wherry-hide boots lacing up to his knee. A plain black belt with a hammered silver buckle fastened over a darker bronze vest-like tunic that came to about mid-thigh, and his knots finished the ensemble making him presentable enough to his way of thinking. He turned a slow circle, arms wide to show himself off to Gareth, grinning.
I suppose that you will have to do, though this dim light hardly does you justice. the big bronze conceded after a moment, amusement in his whirling eyes. His bulk took up much of the open space of their large weyr, and he shifted to the side a bit to let in more light from outside. K'roi shaded his eyes at the sudden increase, chuckling. "Well, if you weren't so sharding huge, we'd always have more light in here, now wouldn't we?" The bronze tilted his head to the side, as if considering the concept. But then who would be large enough to fly your ego around? The rider snorted a laugh, striding over to slap the big bronze good-naturedly on the shoulder. "Too right there. The biggest dragon for the biggest ego, eh?" He chuckled again, reaching a hand up to run it through his hair, smoothing it. "We'd better be off then, Gar. Wouldn't want to be late to our own dinner" Your dinner maybe. I'd rather be sleeping in the sun myself. "Not like you'd fit in the Hall anyway, so sleep all you want."
Accepting the offered foreleg up, K'roi settled between the large dorsal spines, foregoing straps as was his wont on such short trips. Sakki, before then having a nap on his bed, woke with a small chirp, and stretched feline-like before launching lightly from her roosting spot, spiraling through the air like a wisp of smoke before settling in her usual spot wrapped around Hers' shoulder and resting just under his left ear. He reached up to pet her, then gave Gareth the signal to take off.
A quick flight later, and the big bronze had settled to the landing platform near the main hall, circling a few times to wait for a clear spot. Be good. Whether directed as his rider, or the flitter, the bronze did not further specify, and he lifted off to make room for any other dragons seeking to land. K'roi grinned, and waved farewell before walking jauntily inside. Sakki kept up a constant stream of chirps and images to him, anything she could think of while they walked, always the talker. Finally entering the Main Hall, he was glad to see that he was just on time. Walking past the back tables, he nodded to anyone who happened to be looking at him in passing, and settled himself in the chair one down from Savitri so as to not appear too forward, on the opposite side from T'rid, giving the Weyrleader a short bow in passing with a murmured greeting.
He took a deep breath, running his hand through his hair again before peering around with mismatched eyes and finally resting on Savitri. He held out his hand in greeting to her as the closest person and the easiest to introduce himself to. An easy smile graced his lips. "I don't think we've met face to face before. Savitri, isn't it?" He thanked Gareth for the bronze's timely name drop for the gold rider, surprised that he'd failed to learn her name before. He was usually more on top of things than that. Ah well, he couldn't always learn the name of every rider right away.
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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 Feb 14, 2009 18:39:50 GMT -5
His intense interest in the ceiling was interrupted as a -- a girl broke in, and T'rid jumped noticeably, his head snapping around as the hand that had been supporting his chin dropped to the table. The girl -- Candidate, by her knots -- was given a brief, unconcerned glance, her question unanswered. Obviously he didn't want wine. Was she stupid? It was a simple equation -- he was pretty sure that most of the Drudges had even stopped drinking wine. Even the lowest of the Weyr had some sense of self-preservation. Wine = death. Therefore, if you wanted to live, you didn't drink wine. It didn't take a genius to put that one together. However, her tone did merit some sort of response -- people simply didn't do that to rankers, no matter how much they hated them -- at least, Candidates didn't. Riders at least usually had some sort of viable complaint or opinion (dragons usually made sure they didn't do anything too rash, too). But not a Candidate. Definitely not a Candidate.
"My advice -- don't offer anybody anything that quite possibly will kill them, especially not at a Promotion Feast." His voice was low, a slight hiss slipping into the tone. "And second, watch your manner, girl -- you don't want to offend your betters." Leaning back in the chair, quirking one brow, T'rid smirked slightly at her, nodding. The emphasis on betters was meant to be heard -- and he'd meant to use that word in place of rankers. He ranked her -- that was a fact, and probably didn't need pointing out. He preferred "betters" -- it implied that she wasn't as good as he was. But then again, he doubted she'd pick up on it anyway; she didn't look overly bright. Actually, she looked more like she'd zoned out than anything else, a fact which would have bore mentioning had not a certain bluerider distracted the Weyrleader from Malara.
Salute. Again. One eyebrow arched curiously at W'ri, though T'rid didn't complain. He didn't mind being saluted -- it appealed to the ego that everyone had to have. Not necessarily, Corinth pointed out. Actually, I really doubt it. Not many people have big enough heads to hold the ego you manage to. Ouch. Fortunately, nobody but he could possibly have heard that -- except maybe that HAD Greenrider -- so that was all right. Then came two more -- another bluerider T'rid didn't know, and a greenrider he did know. Dorava. He had very much used favoritism when putting together the wings, and he had nothing against stating it, either. Dorava and W'ri had been the two he'd selected to be on his wing first -- the latter because of the salute, mostly, the first he'd recieved by a Rider since becoming Weyrleader; the former because she was one of the only people he could stand. Completely missing S'lain's entrance, T'rid leaned forward absently as P'nor entered.
Aha. His second.
T'rid wasn't exactly sure why he had picked P'nor to be his second, actually. He had nothing for or against the man -- unless the very fact that he had nothing against him was considered a good thing -- but it was mostly a matter of elimination. N'tia and Ka'rys were Wingleaders; therefore, neither of them could be his seconds (and he didn't want either of them anyway. Particularly not Ka'rys). Then he'd given R'non to Ka'rys -- mostly because the other had told him that he was paranoid and therefore deserved an ex-Bendenite -- and K'roi to N'tia -- which left a choice of R'aro and P'nor -- neither of which he knew, liked, or disliked, so he'd chosen P'nor simply because the man was more experienced then the just-graduated bronzeweyrling. At the moment, looking at P'nor, who looked almost as grumpy as T'rid felt, the Weyrleader wasn't feeling highly satisfied at all with his appointment.
He barely caught sight of Ka'rys, mostly because he was glancing towards the door at just the right moment and wondering how many people intended to show up. Ah, yes. Hello, paranoid Wingleader! (He'd given Ka'rys both E'rro and R'non for a reason, he had.) Obviously the Wingleaders already knew about their appointment, though the seconds probably didn't, unless their Wingleaders had told them, and Ka'rys might or might not hate him now.
T'rid didn't care either way.
His rank being uttered in a barely-polite voice caught his attention, and T'rid, who had been concentrating vaguely on the top of the entrance, glanced around at Savitri, nodding absently at the goldrider as he slumped in his seat, crossing his arms and examining the ceiling again while inhaling anxiously. As another bronzerider -- N'tia's new second, T'rid noted -- arrived, T'rid's eyes swept over the mass again. He didn't really care who else came, but people he expected to come were Ka'rys, N'tia, P'nor, K'roi, and R'non. Apparently N'tia and R'non had chosen not to show up, and T'rid had decided that the sooner he got his speech and the new promotions over with, the sooner he could disappear. So N'tia and R'non would just have to get their knots later.
With a heartfelt sigh, the bronzerider stood. "If I could have your attention, please?" See? He'd said please! "We're here tonight for the new promotions -- Wing Drills are going to start as soon as the new Wingleaders report that the patterns have been drawn -- and to let everybody see their new Wings." T'rid didn't feel like having people barrage his Weyr demanding their wings, so he'd brought the lists to the Main Hall with him, and he spread them on the table in front of him. "Wing Lists are here, and you may come up to see your wing at will, but before we do that, the new Wingleaders and Seconds need to get their knots. The Wing names haven't been changed, only rearranged." He was talking way too much and probably boring the life out of the more impatient people, but he didn't care. "As leader of the Blizzard Wing, Ka'rys; N'tia will lead the Cyclone Wing, and I'll be leading the Maelstrom Wing...and as N'tia isn't here, I'll get him his knots later." Gah, did that mean he had to leave his Weyr and hunt down the other bronzer...?
"For our seconds...R'non will be seconding for Ka'rys; K'roi for N'tia, and P'nor for me..." The knots, now, Corinth reminded him, and T'rid obediently spread said knots on the table. "So...come get the knots?" He shrugged absently, and then added belatedly, "Congratulations." Pushing the Wing Lists forward in a clear invitation for people to look at them, T'rid flopped back into his chair and crossed his arms, resting his elbows on the chair's arms and glancing expectantly over the Riders. He didn't feel the need to announce the Wingleaders for the Weyrling Wings, nor the queen's wing; it was extremely obvious in both cases anyway.
((...I'm sorry it's hideously long...>>;;
And to those who spoke to Corinth -- he's kind of not there. oo; He left after dropping T'rid off.))
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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 Feb 14, 2009 19:35:10 GMT -5
Malara gave no indication that she heard or even perceived T’rid’s threat. Immature, ugly, brat that he was. Better than her? Ha. She smiled coyly at him and proceeded to pour drinks for everyone but him. No sense being polite to such a dolt. She curtsied to the rest of the riders as she served them. Once finished she spun around and headed back to the kitchens.
Let some other idiot serve the offensive one. He reminded her a bit of her father, with his slackish attitude and snide voice. He was a mere annoyance and nothing more. He didn’t even deserve to hear the scathing reply she had thought up. Best to not give his type the pleasure of a reaction.
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Sel’n snorted at T’rid’s speech. Extremely unprofessional and lack luster. Not surprising. He took his turn to examine the wings and frowned darkly. Not good at all. he brown rider knew he would get the weyrling wing but the rest of the wings T’rid had come up with were poorly balanced. His wing in particular had one very obvious flaw. W’ri? On the highest altitude wing? Was T’rid nuts. Everyone knew the idiot had a problem with heights. Well obviously not everyone. W’ri was better suited for the queen wing where he was lower in altitude plus the added factor of protecting the woman would have suited his so called “manly” temperament.
Kaaoloth prodded his bonded his tone accusing. I told you Corinth said they could use help and you refused. Now look at how messed up the wings are. It is partially your fault. You have no right to pass judgment. Sel’n scowled and prodded Kaaoloth back. And I told you that the immature idiot would refuse to listen to me. Pray tell my dear brown how would I have overcome that obstacle? The dragon snorted but declined comment.
Vanity, feeling the discord in both her bonded and the large brown, slinked from the sling. The green clambered to Sel’n shoulder and once there promptly dove for the leaders table. Landing with a thump she turned to address “her” crowd, frill displaying to it’s fullest.
Bad Wings Bad! Stupid Dunghead Weyrleader. Stupid Butt Bad! The mandyr pranced down the table, well out of T’rid’s reach, and stopped in front of K’roi eyeing Sakki. Winged Ugly. UGGGGGLY! No pretty. Vanity screeched frilling at the flitter, and throwing in a hiss for good measure, before diving off the table and scampering through the crowd. She was determined to avoid her bonded who would no doubt be after her for her stunt.
Sel’n watched her scamper off his face unreadable. He waved halfheartedly in her direction and made for the food laden tables. No sense apologizing for her. It would do not good anyway. His saving grace was everyone knew she was one of Showoff’s offspring and so prone to random outbursts for attention. Besides she hadn’t said much that wasn’t true. The brown rider took comfort in the thought that at least his weyrlings would be trained well.
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Post by glamourie on Feb 15, 2009 4:18:43 GMT -5
There she was. About time, too. Ka'rys squinted slightly and lifted one hand to brush his fingers through his hair, subconsciously determined to straighten it out. Not that he looked unpleasant. He was not wearing gray. Therefore, he looked spectacular. His temporary insecurity did not show on his face, though, primarily because his gaze was all for Savitri as she.. made her way to the table T'rid was at. She must not have noticed him due to his not-so-subtle attempts at hiding. (Success, evidently.) She looked positively lovely, dressed as she was. And so formal. His head tilted to the side slightly, before his gaze snagged on the smaller figure at her side. Aliscia. Hmm. It made him nervous when those two talked. While he had a tolerance for the small greenrider, he didn't like her. He didn't like former Benden riders as a rule and - to his joy (note the sarcasm) - T'rid had put them all on his wing. Obviously the younger bronzerider was not thinking about wing functionality, but rather the best way to get under his skin. He wouldn't let it bother him though, at least not in public. At least his riders knew how to fight in the air, if they got attacked. T'rid would be scrambling around, completely chasing his own tail. Poor him.
Why did she insist on wearing her hair up? Ka'rys squinted at Savitri as she vanished toward the front table, and then pushed off the wall he was leaning on. He swept up behind Aliscia and crouched down next to her, as if she was someone he knew well. Considering that the greenrider was on his wing before, he didn't see her as a total stranger, and he was not at all intimidated by her. Some people might have been, given her green's temperament, but he'd seen far, far worse. She was 'normal' in his mind, and familiar at that. Besides, she'd arrived with the woman he came for from the beginning. And he had no intentions of spending the whole feast talking to the greenrider.
"Aliscia," he said softly, so as not to draw any extra attention to himself. "When the feast is over, I'd like a moment to speak with you about the wing organization, if you're free and don't have to rush back to your son and daughter immediately. You can have Tanith tell Ciceroth when the feast is closer to over." Standing back up, he nodded slightly. "Enjoy your meal." Then he turned and started back toward the 'rankers' table, his own irritation swelling again. Why couldn't he lurk in the back where no one would notice him? He really was determined to break T'rid's jaw until he couldn't speak anymore. It would serve the obnoxious little twit right for not even asking if he wanted to stay a wingleader. The answer would have been no. Surely there was someone else more qualified! He wasn't that old. (Although, most of the riders at Selenitas seemed to be so young that he wanted to bash his head off of things. What happened to their senior riders? All of them couldn't have been as ridiculous and unintelligent as that P'nor fellow?)
Correction. T'rid was second on the list of people who were going to have their faces rearranged. First was a bronzerider sitting near Savitri, too close for his comfort, talking to her. It wouldn't have unnerved Ka'rys except that he'd never even seen the male talk to her before. They weren't friends, were they? A surge of possessiveness he did not particularly like passed through him and he swallowed his annoyance as best he could. He wouldn't make a scene. He was just more easily agitated because of T'rid, and thus all bronzeriders were deemed enemies. The power-hungry ones were probably speaking to Kaegan anyway. At least, he hoped. Truthfully he had no idea when Hepaticath would rise... she wasn't full grown yet... his stomach flipped over again, only to be soothed with amusement from Ciceroth. The bronze did not feel remotely threatened. That made... one of them.
Just as he arrived at the table, T'rid began to speak. Ka'rys glanced over at him and muttered 'No, you may not' under his breath, though no one would be able to hear him because of how soft it was. The speech earned a look of thinly veiled irritation, though he was polite enough to sit down (on the side of Savitri opposite the other bronzerider) while the Weyrleader spoke. He would be so glad when someone replaced T'rid and he no longer had to deal with the irritant. As the younger bronzerider called for them to get their knots, Ophelie obediently took to wing and glided over to retrieve Ka'rys's, then returned and dropped them right in front of her humanpet. Trilling softly, she settled on his shoulder and nudged his jaw with her head affectionately. However, her gaze was immediately snatched by a green salamandyr nearby, and low in her throat, she hissed. Exactly what was that ugly thing doing on the table?
"You look lovely," Ka'rys said softly, his words clearly directed to Savitri. However, one hand snaked up to gently tug Ophelie's tail, in an attempt to calm her. Around Savitri, he eyed K'roi before quirking an eyebrow. "Guessing you're K'roi. Apologies, I don't make a habit of remembering people's names, and my name-dropper is busy. Have we met?"
Discreet, Rysmine! I am proud of you. Ciceroth crooned in amusement as he made his way back to Hepaticath's side, then flopped against her. Gently, he nudged the gold in the side, taking Savitri's words to heart. She wouldn't lead him wrong! Hepaticath, Hepaticath, you must wake up. Rysmine is about to make a fool of himself in public and we must both be equally amused. It wouldn't be right for you to miss this. Rysmine wants to hit Corinth's.
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Post by kysseh on Feb 15, 2009 4:50:38 GMT -5
Aliscia straightened a bit in her seat, bristling a bit that her wingleader had crept up on her. Truthfully, it was her own fault for getting distracted, but the little woman did hate having someone loitering about behind her, even if he seemed... safe enough. He had not put a knife in her back, and given how close he was to Savi, she doubted he ever would. She flicked a non-smile and gave him the briefest of nods to indicate her understanding, touching on her green's mind to remind her of that conversation for later. The bronzerider's migration toward the ranking riders' table had her aiming a smirk at his retreating back, though. Poor Ka'rys. He really had no idea, did he? No, he didn't. More amusement for her, at least... though it wasn't as if Savitri's current predicament was not amusing enough...
Savitri was absolutely aghast as one of the young bronzeriders took it upon himself to make introductions. She raised one eyebrow, torn between amusement, disgust, and a dash of confusion. Did he not... know that she was not the most approachable of people? Maybe he was trying to get on her good side. It was pitiful, at best, especially given that he was smiling in a little too cocky a fashion to suit her tastes. "No, we haven't met," she affirmed, though she did shake his offered hand, in an attempt to be civil. Her green eyes were somewhat narrowed as she eyed him, trying to place him amongst her mental files of all of the bronzeriders. Young.... and not K'dran or R'aro or one of the new weyrlings. K'roi, then.
Before she could say anything else, though, she was aware of someone taking a seat beside her and T'rid standing up to give what had to be one of the most lackluster speeches she had heard in her life. One eyebrow arched and rose, and she snorted softly at the weyrleader. "Your lack of enthusiasm is catching," she said quite bluntly to T'rid before giving Ka'rys her full attention. Her eyes flicked over his form once and then drifted to examine the tabletop, and she briefly wondered what was on his mind, that he intentionally seated himself so close to her. His compliment startled her, and she turned wide eyes to him, her surprised and pleased expression turning a bit sour as he proceeded to bait the bronzerider on her other side. Really, did... he have to?!
"Yes, this is K'roi. K'roi... this is Ka'rys of bronze Ciceroth. You both already know me, apparently, so I won't bother with introducing myself," she said simply, gesturing one hand between the two bronzeriders in a pitiful attempt to keep the peace. She didn't trust Ka'rys to not snipe. Ophelie's behavior toward the obnoxious 'mandyr--she just ignored the little pestilence's yelling on principle--had her raising one eyebrow, and the new direction of her thoughts roused the creature lounging in her shirt. Shadow was hauling his little white body out into the open and clung to the front of her shirt, but instead of glaring at the loud green salamandyr, the tiny creature was displaying his little frill at K'roi. Evidently, Shadow had taken a dislike to the bronzerider, and he silently rattled his white wings before crawling across Savitri's shirt and hopping almost gracefully over to Ka'rys. The 'mandyr latched on to the front of the bronzerider's green shirt, ignoring K'roi in what translated to Shadow's version of the silent treatment.
One hand came up to rub the bridge of her nose, and Savitri sighed at her pet's mini-tantrum. "Males," she muttered with obvious frustration, though she said nothing else on the topic. Males were bad. Men were worse.
The flop of a heavy body next to her and the gentle nudges alerted Hepaticath to activity going on, and she reluctantly retracted all three lids from the nearer of her eyes, eyeing the shiny bronze body that had settled itself near her. The familiar sight elicited a croon, and the lids flipped back from the other whirling eye as the young queen flopped a wing over her playmate. Good morning, my Ciss. What am I missing? Where is Mi- ... oh, she is at the dinner. But... who is hitting Corinth's? Missing what? her mental tones echoed, overlaid with sleepy thoughts of comfort. Her massive mouth opened in a none-too-quiet yawn, altering the sound of the croon she tried to give to her playmate. Mine is frustrated. I missed something funny, didn't I?
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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 Feb 15, 2009 14:32:38 GMT -5
She hadn't felt like coming at all. Not only were her nerves on end, her stomach felt horrible as well. Kaegan didn't want to take her seat next to T'rid, she didn't want to deal with the man or his sour attitude. He would just have to deliver the wing speech himself, and then sit through the rest of the dinner, since she wasn't feeling very charitable at the moment. Last feast, she had promised to tell Shmee that the Bronzerider had stayed the whole dinner, but now that her Senior was gone... Kaegan was by default, in charge until the next Queenflight, no one knew whether Hepaticath or Millieth would Rise first. Although in all statistics, her Queen was due to participate in the sky dance soon.
Shifting slightly as the current Weyrleader stood to deliver the Promotions, Kaegan pressed her back against the wall as she listened, holding her cold juice cup to her head. All of the names that were called were Bronzeriders, not that it wasn't unusual for both leaders to be Bronzers, it was just a surprise that there wasn't a single Brownrider as wingsecond. Giving a small shrug of her shoulders, the Senior Weyrwoman glanced up at the Leader's table, battling within herself whether or not she wanted to go sit in her rightful spot. Eventually duty won over her upset stomach, and she quietly made her way to her seat. Upon arriving, Kaegan smiled meekly at those around her before sitting down and leaning back against the chair. If someone spoke to her, she'd respond, but as for instigating a conversation of her own... well, she just didn't feel like it. Unless to congratulate a newly promoted Wingleader. She hoped she wasn't coming down with whatever Gina and F'con had caught... the Infirmary seemed extraordinarily busy as of late...
(Sorry for shortness. ._____.
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Post by hseru on Feb 15, 2009 16:40:42 GMT -5
If K'roi was taken aback by the sudden consecutive animosity of about three other creatures in the room directed at either him or his, he made no obvious notice of it. Sakki, on the other hand, hissed right back at Vanity, flaring her wings but refusing to leave Hers due to what had happened last time. She said so in a series of images, chittering in annoyance at the small wingless pest, and glad that it removed itself forthwith from her table. She resettled shortly, having taught the worm a lesson. She cooed to Hers, rubbing his cheek as if to reassure him that she would be there to protect him. He laughed softly, patting her in thanks.
T'rid's speech was rather short and bittersweet, but he obediently stood and made to go around the table to gather up his knots with a muttered 'excuse me' to both other riders. Indifferent to the man or his way of being, he only wanted to see positive results for the Weyr. As such, he took a brief look down the list of new wings, frowning slightly, only to shortly return to his seat, obviously elsewhere in thought for a moment.
He was brought back to the present when he was addressed by the other bronzerider, and he smiled again, once more extending his hand in friendly greeting. "No indeed! Glad to meet you Ka'rys. I guess my time away certainly has left me behind in the who is who category. I hope you'll forgive my terribly remiss memory and lazy dragon." He nodded towards Savitri. "I must confess, Gareth tipped me off to your name just in time to keep from being rude, but I'm afraid he missed out on you." The last part of the statement was once more directed towards Ka'rys. "I now have Savitri to thank for introducing us."
It was at that moment that something small and white appeared out of nowhere to hiss at him, perched on the goldrider. He raised both hands before him in an 'I'm innocent' gesture, and chuckled lightly. Sakki would have none of that, and she hissed right back before he laid a calming hand on her. "I have the worst luck with salamandyrs it seems. They all dislike me, or Sakki attacks them. I've never seen a white one though. Interesting little creature." Sakki chattered at him in a berating way. She was his, and she would not tolerate him showing interest in any of the wingless worms.
As to Ka'rys, K'roi had obviously stepped over someone's territory line, but he had done nothing wrong, and would not back down from a display of possession simply because he enjoyed conversation. The man was rather like a prickly salamandyr himself. The bronze rider amused himself by imagining the other with a frill.
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