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Post by dragon on May 26, 2009 13:33:50 GMT -5
Voyager ruffled his wings, and huffed, settling down on his new perch. The impact on the wall had hurt, some, but not a lot. It certainly wasn't anything to get all worked up over. It was ... a learning experience. Apparently, he couldn't fly like Ophelie could. And that was something to remember! He'd have to calculate that kind of thing in, the next time he tried to make a turn like that. And hopefully there wouldn't be a wall there to smack into next time if he calculated wrong! The bronze flitter leaned backward, and then turned around on Emoyan's shoulder to lean forward instead and peer around the back of Emoyan's head over at where Ophelie was hiding behind her wing. He uttered a curious cheep, wondering why she was hiding as she was.
Rascal, silent as ever, merely sat there and watched the pretty green. And wondered what was wrong with Voyager. He was a bronze. Why wasn't he acting like one? For Faranth's sake, he ought to have stopped acting like a sun-struck hatchling a long, long time ago!! Rather unimpressed with any of Voy's antics at all, the brown huffed slightly, and wrapped his tail around Emoyan's neck.
Emoyan headed up the stairs with Ka'rys, and realized that pretty soon, he was going to be very well acquainted with things like stairs and boats and bridges and things of that nature. The luxury of having a personal, fast, conveyance was gone. Though, the soul-mate part was the bit he missed most. Kindrith, every little annoying scrap of him, even his overbearing attention to every flight that happened. That was what Emoyan missed... and ... and ... he needed to distract himself again. So he started counting steps on the way up.
Ach... he was more out of shape than he thought, that or the greiving had taken more out of him than he'd thought. Climbing one set of stairs after another to crest the entire height of the Weyr was making him puff. Drudges and other Weyrfolk must be quite up on thier endurance to do this sort of thing all day, every day! Much less with armloads of stuff.
"I'll have to go see R'wign, then. Even if only just to see how he's doing." Emoyan commented, sounding slightly out of breath. Sheesh. All those walks he and Kindrith had gone on ... not to mention all the work that went with dragonriding and dragoncare ... one might think he'd be in better shape than this! Must be the not having eaten in days ... that could be it. Making him weaker than he ought to be... "Lucky the both of them weren't killed outright, being jumped right after a flight like that." he commented. Lucky indeed ...
"No, no ... that's alright. I don't need to see a list like that. Dear Faranth ... no ... I'll find out in time, I have to concentrate on what I have to do, before I start seeing just how big of a loss we've got." It might seem cold, but it was true. In his current emotional state, Emoyan knew that if he were suddenly faced with all the raw, gaping wounds of the Weyr, the whole glaring picture of who had died and who had been greivously wounded ... it would drag him down to the point where he'd never see his way out again. First, he had to heal his own self. So that he could withstand that kind of thing.
"Ciceroth ... is quite spectacular, yes." Emoyan agreed, reflecting on that while wondering what it was that had earned him the dragon's respect. After weyrlinghood, he couldn't really remember a time where he'd ever run into the dragon. Barring recent flight drills, and even then, he hadn't paid the big dragon any mind... and he'd assumed the dragon had ignored him likewise. Showed him what he knew. Maybe he'd just been too wrapped up in his own blue to notice. But that still didn't answer his fundamental question: Why did Ciceroth respect and like him? That was certainly an honor. To be respected was good. To be liked, was good. But to be respected and liked was even greater a thing of note, beyond the mere of being both. For one could easily be respected, and yet hated. Finally, he had to just ask. "Why? I mean ... why does Ciceroth like me so much?" He asked, genuinely curious.
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Post by glamourie on May 29, 2009 3:36:34 GMT -5
Go… see… R’wign? Ka’rys blinked twice, then looked over his shoulder at Emoyan again, his expression blatantly puzzled. Last he checked, Emoyan and R’wign were far from friends. Not that R’wign was an unfriendly sort (actually Ka’rys was continually baffled by just how friendly the healer could be), but he found it rather odd that Emoyan would care at all to visit someone he hardly knew. Then again, it might have been a distraction technique? Either way, he was a little worried; while typically R’wign was a jokester, the sort of person who goofed around with everyone and anyone without prejudice, his injuries and the loss of so many people close to him had brought out a temper that Ka’rys, at least, did not like (but was unsurprised by; he knew R’wign better than most). He doubted that Emoyan was so fragile as to let something like that get to him, but the idea of additional stress being caused because of R’wign’s mouth running too much wasn’t appealing… and there was absolutely no way the weyrling brown rider was going to hear a word he said if he tried to explain that to him. He’d blow him off and go right back to sulking until he got out of his funk… which hopefully would not be too long; sulking annoyed Ka’rys. It was often a matter of contention between him and Savitri.
Thinking about the night R’wign was attacked drew a dark look from Ka’rys, and he walked faster up the stairs to keep Emoyan from seeing it. “They would have been. They had help.” He didn’t elaborate, because Kalerary’s face flashed behind his eyes, scarred and mangled from that monster. If he hadn’t been killed by I’fael, what Ka’rys would have done to him would have been terrible. He would have been shunned for sure, considering the level of pain he wanted to put that creature through. No one raised a hand to his child and lived to tell the tale. No one. But F’rel was dead. I’fael had seen to that, and in some ways it was justice; weyrlingmaster saves his weyrlings. Not that it satisfied Ka’rys any. Every time he looked at Kalerary’s face, he hated Benden a little more. Whatever force had convinced Baith to take them back had saved at least one of them from an absolutely terrible fate. If not for Savitri’s pregnancy -- he might well have suicidal charged in trying to prove a point. He felt useless not doing something to vindicate his daughter.
Shaking his head, Ka’rys brought one hand up to rub his eyes. Thinking about that night just made him angry. Not at Emoyan, but … angry. Ka’rys was not a creature who handled anger well, it flowed through him and he became coldly rational. Which usually meant he was a frightening force. There was nothing he could do though, no one he could vent that fury at, turn his rage toward and make them pay for all that was wrong. There was no vengeance. Nothing of the sort. There was no reason to let himself get worked up - so rather than focus on that wave of emotions, so nearly overwhelming, Ka’rys thought of the important issues at hand: Getting Emoyan to his new rooms, getting him a list of the candidates, and the basic class schedule for Selenitas. That was worth thinking about.
He chose not to respond to the upsetting topic anymore, and he hoped that Emoyan would be understanding enough not to take offense. It wasn’t personal.
“Why does he like you? I don’t know exactly. Ciceroth decides who he likes for some of the strangest reasons. He -- He views you as his. Not the way I am, but his property nonetheless. You were on our wing, but -- Ciceroth also still has the mentality he had after he Caught Aslath. Most of the dragons at Selenitas, and their riders, and indeed the weyrfolk themselves, are his. His to protect. His to care for. It doesn’t make much sense to me, but he’s very, very protective. You in particular because…” Because Kindrith was Ciceroth’s clutch mate. Ka’rys shifted his weight and glanced back at Emoyan. “Ciceroth remembers that we were weyrlings together.” Not entirely truthful; Ciceroth didn’t remember any of it. But he did remember Kindrith was his clutch mate, and that made Emoyan more his than anyone else’s. It was… gentler saying it that way than bringing up Kindrith though. At least, Ka’rys thought so.
From his shoulder, Ophelie peeked out from behind her wing at Voyager and cocked her head to the side. She fluted inquiringly, asking without words whether or not he was hurt. He didn’t seem to be, but that -- well, maybe bronzes just had much too hard of heads to get hurt from flying into a wall. Yes, she deduced that must have been it and lowered her wing before giving a pleasant flute toward both of the male fire lizards. They were such nice companions. Maybe she would take them to play sometime? Oh, but they were approaching their destination, she knew. Chittering encouragingly, she leapt to her wings and then flew forward toward the candidate barracks, beckoning both Voyager and Rascal to follow. Didn’t they want to see their new rooms?
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Post by dragon on May 29, 2009 11:44:10 GMT -5
"Oh." It was all Emoyan said, and apparently nothing more was forthcoming at all. He just tried to keep up with Ka'rys' blazing pace through the Weyr. And that alone took most of his breath. Sheesh, for a short little guy with short legs to match, he sure could set a blistering pace!! Emoyan really had to stride out just to keep up with the man.
It did occur to Emoyan that something had upset the bronzerider ... part of that was evident in the stride. But that wasn't the only thing. It was really embarrassing, really, to be reduced to a puffing state by so simple a thing. He'd really let himself go, after Kindrith died. And, plainly, it wasn't good for him. In that moment, Emoyan decided to do something about it. Dragonrider or no, he still needed to stay in shape.
Some of his load was lightened, thankfully, when both of his flitters took wing at the same time, chasing after Ophelie with very little prompting. Rascal just took off after her. But having been perched backwards, Voyager had to make a loop around the two men to chase after her. And being by far the largest (and slowest) of the three, that put him pretty far back behind them. He tried really hard to catch up, though, chirping every other wingbeat.
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Post by glamourie on May 31, 2009 4:13:19 GMT -5
At the top of the stairs, Ka’rys stopped and turned to look back at Emoyan with a blank slate of an expression. He had a lot of practice hiding his feelings from his face, and as he turned his feelings inward, he was slowly and surely reverting back to old habits that would probably have made Savitri want to hit him with a broom of some kind (she so hated it when he tried to hide things). For Emoyan, it was probably a better way of addressing than trying to show everything. Only Savitri seemed to want to know every thought running through his mind and, frankly, he found the attitude exhausting enough with just her. He could imagine what sort of reaction he would get from everyone else that he dealt with regularly, considering how often his weyrmate misunderstood him. That thought was negative, and he pushed it to the back of his mind, folded his hands behind his back, and fixed Emoyan with a calm, steady stare that may or may not have been critical. With Ka’rys, it was often very difficult to tell. Nothing was exactly what it seemed.
Most people would have inquired after the former blue rider’s physical state; he looked to be quite exhausted from the hike up the stairs. Ka’rys, however, was not most people. Asking personal questions was limited to friends, and he and Emoyan were distinctly not. Not that they were enemies - far from. They simply weren’t more than associates and though he would go out of his way to see to it that Emoyan always had a place to stay, always was taken care of -- he would not break past the barriers of civility. Ka’rys didn’t like making friends. They became liabilities very quickly, and someone who was dragonless was almost worse than helpless. Kalerary was a prime example of what happened to the people who was close to him. No one else would be put in danger.
When he was sure that Emoyan had enough time to catch his breath, he turned and made his way toward the candidate barracks. Silence wasn’t uncomfortable to him; if the other man wanted to talk, he could. Otherwise, Ka’rys would lead without wasting precious breath. He didn’t have anything of value to say, after all, and not bothering to talk was actually not a new trait of his. More often than not, Ka’rys found himself drifting into long silences with everyone except Savitri… but then, she was where all of his rules were broken, most assuredly the one about not letting anyone become too close. She knew all of his dirty little secrets, too, though, so talking wasn’t really a danger for anything other than bickering… except, they hadn’t done that in awhile. Miracle of miracles.
The candidate barracks were coming into sight, and Ka’rys’s gaze followed the fire lizards as they darted off ahead. Typical Ophelie. Ciceroth was perched right next to the tree, the wooden trunk settled at the base of the steps leading inside. And perched was a literal description for the lustrous figure, for his wings were folded quite neatly at his back and he was sitting up, looking toward the heights that were just out of his reach. His tail curled up between his wings and he sniffed twice, curious; however, the bronze did not bother to look at the two new arrivals. Of course he’d beaten them there. He had wings.
Fluting musically to her two companions, the green made a few quick loop-de-loops, showing off her aerial prowess. Once she reached the entrance of the candidate barracks, she flew back and forth by the door, giving Voyager time enough to catch up before she entered. Then she bolted through the entryway, down the halls and to the only door in the meeting room. It was ajar, cracked, likely from new supplies being brought in and she slipped through it with ease to perch daintily on the desk. The front room was an office, and attached was another door with sleeping chambers and private bathing, just for the candidate master. It was sparsely decorated, but a casual viewer might notice that between the three rooms, it actually was larger than a blue rider’s weyr. Just not by all that much. It would be more than enough living space for a man with two small fire lizards, though.
Ophelie flicked her wings back and gave a curious flute. What did they think, what did they think? Wasn’t it nice? She thought so! And there would be plenty of fire lizards from the candidates to play with for them. A great deal of pleasant companions~ … Unlike her obnoxious loud one. The thought made her twitch her tail, but she didn’t make a peep. No ill ‘words’ would be said about Ras. Not to anyone but Hers, at least…
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Post by dragon on May 31, 2009 15:22:31 GMT -5
Emoyan made it up to where Ka'rys was standing at the top of the stairs, standing there like the king of the world and looking down his nose at everything. It almost made him want to laugh ... if he'd had any air, he might have, actually. Ka'rys was a weird one, sometimes. He leaned on the wall for a moment, grateful to have that moment to catch his breath.
When Ka'rys moved on again, Emoyan followed with narry a content. And completely oblivious to everything Ka'rys might or might not have been thinking. His own mind, was trying desperately to get back into gear, but Emoyan simply was fighting tooth and nail to not let it ... not yet. No matter the thought train, no matter, it would eventually end up with him wandering back to thinking of Kindrith. And that was not something he wanted to do. It would only hurt. So, for now, he kept it stuck revving on idle.
He concentrated instead on keeping up with Ka'rys, and on putting one foot before the other. He did notice how Ciceroth was sitting, and found that slightly comical, as well, never noticing the tornado of flitters that zoomed up to the barracks propper through the air before fluttering around at the door and vanishing inside. "Ah ... wow. I can't say as I've wandered over here before, but that building is bigger than I thought it was." Emoyan remarked. Not to mention, a lot higher up.
He slowed his walk, taking in the sight as he approached. He saw no reason to hurry ... they were here now. And if Ka'rys wanted to break his back charging headlong up the stairs, that was his business. Emoyan was of a mind to take his time, see what there was to see, and mosey on up the stairs at a decent rate of travel. The last thing he wanted to do was break his nose from falling up the stairs in pursuit of a punishing bronzerider!
Voyager wobbled in the air, and tried to twirl just exactly as Ophelie did... the only thing he managed to do was fly sideways right into Rascal. The brown jerked away from the unforseen onslaught of flapping bronze wings, and started scolding Voyager quite harshly. Putting on a burst of speed, the brown pulled away, speeding after Ophelie and doing his own twirl. That was how it was done!
Voyager peeped in small remorse, and decided that maybe he ought to stop trying to fly like all the smaller colors, and play on his own strengths ... he was pretty sure he could outfly them all for distances. He'd already flown Rascal into the ground on a few occassions! Slacking off on some of the speed he was trying to attain, dropping back to cruising speeds. He arced upwards, toward the barracks door, and swung wide to slip through the open door. Which he pulled off fairly nicely, following in Rascal's wake. The two males followed Ophelie through the room, though only Rascal followed through the cracked door to the inside of the office. And even he had to impact and then wriggle through. Voyager fluttered to a stop at the door, and then started creeling at the crack, unable to fit through the slot that the two considerably smaller flits had gone through.
Ignoring Voyager entirely, Rascal landed on the desk and turned around a few times, inspecting everything he could see. He took a moment to sniff everything on the desk, and then he went to sit next to Ophelie, fluting his approval of the area. It would do ... needed some more things put in it to make it less echoey, but ... it would do. His pet could make a half decent nest in the area... yes, he could. Maybe if he could put some sense into that bronze's head, he could get Voyager to help him swipe some items to put in it...
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Post by glamourie on Jun 2, 2009 18:01:28 GMT -5
“It’s pretty good size,” Ka’rys agreed with a slight nod. He was grateful for a topic to discuss. When it came to making conversation, he was absolute rubbish. Left to his own devices, he could and would be silent indefinitely… or say one or two words. He wasn’t usually rude. Blunt, yes, but rude, no. He would answer when spoken to, he just didn’t generate discussion. Privately, he believed that if he didn’t talk, maybe most people wouldn’t approach him. Ka’rys was not, and would never be friendly… and it felt better to be shifting back into the habits that were easy for him, than trying to be someone he wasn’t. Maybe he could be more open with Savitri and closed off with everyone else…? That thought had some potential, hmm… “I don’t recall the exact layout of the candidate barracks, but I believe the bottom floor is a lobby, bathing rooms, your office, private room and your own private bathing chamber. From there, one floor is the girls rooms, and one is the boys. I don’t know which is which though, but I imagine it’s fairly obvious. You will have to decorate your office when you get moved in. This lack of personal possessions thing will probably make our little Southern candidates quite uncomfortable. Maybe they will bring you fruit.”
The building actually was alarmingly large, considering that it was built into a tree, but… Ka’rys lived with a gold rider. Queen weyrs were larger than anything he knew how to actually adjust to. He’d lived in family weyrs before, and Ciceroth’s original weyr was by no mean small, but Savitri’s positively dwarfed everything he saw in terms of size comparison. It actually had multiple rooms. Kalerary had her own room to sleep in - and he and Savitri had theirs. Actual rooms. Plus an office, though it was Savitri’s (his was located elsewhere) and the little meeting area for people to come into… and enough sleeping space for both dragons. Ciceroth was more than a little pleased by the amount of space he had there (and that he now possessed a gold pillow).
At the entrance of the candidate barracks, Ka’rys came to a stop and turned to look at Emoyan again.
Inside, Ophelie blinked at the door and the sound of creeling from the crack. Why didn’t he just wink between to get to them? Inquisitive, she turned her head to Voyager and offered him a sweet flute in confusion. However, he looked quite busy trying to get a scope of the room, and Ophelie was happy to sit and watch without her own comments. It wasn’t her place. Were it, she would already be in the process of making it more homey -- but Ophelie collected dried flowers (Hers was very good about bringing them to her and so was her Worm). She did not know what theirs collected. Maybe she should bring them some of her pretty flowers so that they could have a lovely decoration, too? Ophelie flicked her tail, watched Rascal for a moment, and decided to do just that.
Chirping, the little green happily fluttered her wings, then dove off the desk to vanish between. She reappeared on Ciceroth’s head outside, sensing her bonded’s desire to move on before he ever gave voice to it. She was good at reading his feelings.
“I guess I should let you get settled in. If I linger I’ll just bore you. Do you need help carrying the trunk inside, or have you got it?” Ka’rys asked, oblivious to Ophelie’s presence, though Ciceroth turned to snort in greeting to the pair. Savitri would probably be wondering what he was doing that was taking so long, since he’d claimed to only need a walk. Great. He’d owe her a huge explanation when he returned back… but….
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Post by dragon on Jun 5, 2009 14:03:15 GMT -5
"Thanks ... I'll figure it out." Emoyan replied. And he would ... there wasn't anything difficult or hard about noting which floor housed whom. It wasn't even a horribly important detail, so far as Emoyan could tell. Just something simple. "I can move the trunk ... I appreciate the help in getting it this far. Thank you - and do tell Ciceroth thanks for me, too." Emoyan said, suddenly aware that Ka'rys was itching to get away.
He stepped into the common room of the barracks, and looked around for a moment, taking his time in getting acquainted with the place. Unlike Ka'rys, Emoyan had no place to be, and no deadline to meet. He had all the time in the world to do whatever he needed to do. In a bit, he'd fetch the trun in. For now, he was exploring.
Rascal remained on his perch, though he did cheep a farewell after Ophelie. Voyager, however, turned away from the door and flew after her, chirping excitedly. It was only a call from Emoyan - and a stern one at that - that drew up the young flitter's excitement and made him stay. Even then, Voyager was plainly not happy about it. Fluttering to a landing on Emoyan's shoulder, the bronze stared after the door where Ophelie had gone.
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