|
Post by glamourie on Nov 9, 2009 19:59:02 GMT -5
I really think leaving our hatchling around Jingth all the time is a mistake. Meiralove is a good influence, but Jingth… Jingth isn’t… she’s not Ellie. I think we should keep him with us more often. Meiralove can come visit. We have more people to watch the baby too, with Behruth and ShortyYours… It’s better for the hatchling, you know. We should do it. “I’m not taking my son away from his mother permanently, Checkoth,” R’wign said patiently. “No matter how much you and Behruth might want a hatchling of your own.” I never said it was permanent. He should just stay with us more. She’s a weyrlingrider and— “And your excuses are getting gradually worse. Just admit you want to commit babytheft and be done with it.”
The group (for it was a group) was outside by the river, upstream enough to be away from the general vicinity of the Weyr. R’wign was sitting crosslegged on a large blanket strewn over the sand. Checkoth was behind the group, blocking the sight of the jungle, and Grouch was perched on him. The rest of R’wign’s firelizards were preoccupied with something far more interesting: a human baby. The colorful fair was all sprawled across the brightly colored quilt and even Crash (who usually ignored anything not female) was having a good time bouncing around to elicit reactions from the child. The firelizards hopped about, just out of reach, a colorful flurry of rainbow. Each one chattered and chirped – it was very easy to locate that someone or something was nearby and R’wign was the only person at Selenitas with quite that many flitters, so it was easy to locate him as the source of the sound. Musical chattering for all to hear. It was very obvious the colorful fair liked the baby – all of them were playing. The lone holdout had sense enough to be out of sight and reach. Hmph.
The baby in question, Riaren, was reaching out to tug on Ellie’s tail with a smile. He liked the bright colors very much. He was getting to where he could recognize voices and sounds, and Ellie and Grouch were very familiar to him, just as Jingth and Checkoth were, and especially his mother and father’s voices. He truly adored the fluttery pets that his father had, and every chance he got, he liked to cuddle them. Only the biggest and the little one with the longest tail would let him hug them but that was okay – they were just like his toy, only moving and not quite as soft, so not as good to suck on but that was okay too; he liked them. A wide smile passed over his face and he gently pulled; he knew instinctively not to be rough with the little pretties, or his father would take them away. Must always be gentle. He was oblivious to Checkoth’s plotting but – he liked the biggest fluttery very much; if he was closer, Riaren might even have tried to grab him. The biggest fluttery really was very pretty and very nice…
“She’s teaching you bad habits, isn’t she?” R’wign asked Riaren as he ran his comb through his hair. He had a mirror on the blanket in front of him and a dagger in his hand. Strands of black – ironing board straight, interestingly enough – lay on the side of him away from the baby; he’d carefully pushed the cut hair away. He’d cut the runnertail that he usually wore his hair in straight off, and the formerly elbow-length strands were tied by the rope in a perfect wave; it would’ve been pretty, if not for the fact that it was no longer attached to someone. It was difficult with one eye to hack away the strands, but his goal was to get the back very short. He wanted the front long enough to tug on (M’ta liked to mess with his hair, after all) but he was… sick of the hair. Yes, sick enough to fly into rages. He did that periodically, found himself unable to look at his own reflection without screaming fits… Really, R’wign cycled between impressive vanity and rage. He was currently hating his face, hair, and most especially his eyes.
The baby turned his head as he was spoken to and grinned up at R’wign before reaching one hand out toward him. R’wign set down the knife to lean over and hold out one finger, which Riaren gripped and clung to; the smile never left his face. R’wign snorted. “You don’t hate my hair, do you? But you think it’ll look better shorter too, right? I do,” he said with a slight nod. “Yes, I agree. Hmm, you’re not trying to suck her tail anymore. Did your mommy convince you not to do that anymore?” Ellie fluted and Riaren squealed softly – it was obviously an attempt at mimicking the sound. R’wign crinkled his nose before smiling widely. “Did I ever tell you about how I got my first firelizard? He’s not here anymore, but you’d have liked him, I’m sure. His name was Beggar…” Setting down his mirror, R’wign reached over to scoop Riaren up and into his lap. It was morning and Meira was at weyrling lessons. Technically, he could have been at the infirmary but it was such a pretty day… and he hated taking Riaren around sick people. So he was skipping shift. So Sue him. “He was a very dark blue flitter – kinda like Stumpy and Grouch… but bigger, really. Not as friendly as Stumpy, much nicer than Grouch. I wasn’t that much older than you when I impressed him…”
|
|
|
Post by dragon on Nov 9, 2009 22:14:37 GMT -5
It was one of the few things that he did anymore, besides his work. It was a small thread to the past, as it was one of the few things he had always done. A moment of retrospect, introspect, and general all around quiet that was coupled with a bit of exercise and fresh air. All things a body needed. But instead of a huge companion that had always walked with him for so many Turns, of late he'd started taking these walks alone. But this wasn't necessarily a bad thing, either. Sometimes a body needed that solitude. Especially when the alternative was mass mayhem and destruction on a salamandyr-scale.
Today, Emoyan had elected to go upstream instead of down. The trek up the stairs had been an event in and of itself that told the Candidate Master that he really needed to get out more often than he already was. A simple set of stairs should not wind a body that badly - even if it was a set of stairs from the very bottom of the Weyr canyon to the very top. He was getting flabby in his retirement job, he decided. Time to do something about that, all things considered. Nevermind there wasn't anything flabby about the ex-bluerider. He just wasn't tossing firestone sacks anymore and dashing back and forth like a headless avian. Well ... that wasn't quite true, either. Keeping up with all those kids was enough dashing about for any sane adult.
Once he had reached the upper river finally and started idly strolling down the banks with his hands in his pockets, Emoyan walked in relative silence, listening to the woods around him and noting the wildlife that resided within. Far more active when there were fewer people around, the Jungle seemed to come alive with little creeping things, crawling things, and flying things. That all naturally went scurrying for cover as the man approached. It didn't take much to spook wild things at all, especially not with the mayhem that men tended to bring with them. If not of their own machinations, than in the machinations of the pets they kept. Salamandyrs and Firelizards were sometimes just more than wildlife could handle in swarms. Speaking of swarms... Emoyan noticed when the creepycrawlies of the forest simply ceased to be noticable, and he started being able to hear what sounded like an entire colony of Flitters all calling, chirping, and singing. Such as was that flitters could sing. They didn't sound upset or alarmed, so it was a natural reaction that the man was curious to see what was going on - what could have so many flitters gathered in one place, have them all noisy like that - and not have them alarmed at the same time? This bore some looking into, so Emoyan stepped out a bit to go see what was going on.
He simply didn't move around in the Weyr enough to realize what flitters belonged to who - and in what quantities. So it never occurred to him that there was only one person in the Weyr who could possibly have that many flitters. Indeed, when he broke into the tiny clearing area that held the massive bulk of a two-tailed brown dragon, a veritable swarm of flitters of every size, shape, and color, as well as a fellow and what appeared to be a baby, Emoyan was surprised. Simply put, that had been the last thing he had been expecting to find. Not that he could have decided what he was expecting to find, either.
He came to a stop there on the edge of the clearing, not quite sure what to do. It might be possible that he could leave again unnoticed - but one never knew with that many pairs of hyperactive eyes in the area. It seemed a lot like intrusion on a private party to be here. Especially given the nature of the crowd. Finally, Emoyan decided that if these flits were anything like his own - he was already seen and leaving would raise more awkward questions than staying for a few minutes would. Namely among them being what in Faranth's name was he doing wandering around like that? Much less alone - something he regularly advised his Candidates against. Could even be construed as sneaking. Never mind he was doing no such thing.
So it was in the end that Emoyan decided to go ahead and wander over, say hi, and then - maybe - go on his way. But one never knew. Thus resolved, he stepped forward and entered the clearing proper and casually walked on over toward the spread blanket and bouncing, fluttering, chirping crowd that surrounded the two humans. The whole way, Emoyan was wondering how a dragon could possibly fly stably with two tails. That must be a feat indeed! "Hello." he said, cheerfully, when he reached the blanket, coming to a stop. "You all look like you're having more than your fair share of fun." He teased lightly with a smile, as a comment on how happy they looked - especially the baby and flitters. There truly was nothing like the innocence of a child.
|
|
Avu
Weyrleader Ce'thian Rider A'emi Handler Sena Harper Matteo Weyrbrat Riaren
Posts: 2,439
|
Post by Avu on Nov 10, 2009 19:32:23 GMT -5
Bounce, skitter, leap; the brown Salamandyr’s path was a very roundabout one. Distracted, he was; every once in a while he would stop and inspect a pebble or a leaf, to see if it was lovely enough to give to his favorite eggbrother. At the moment, there was only one thing in his possession – that was how picky Mimic was when it came to presents for his eggbrother. Only the best for the best, after all! The small stone was positively miniscule by human standards, but it completely clear with dark bronze-gold on one corner, and it was so lovely…It was currently lodged in his mouth (which also explained why he had only one; if he could Mimic would have collected the whole field but alas, he couldn’t fit it all into his mouth and he needed his feet to run!) as he scattered across the grounds, completely absorbed in his task. Oh, he’d originally come to see his babylove, but he’d missed a chance to see Doppelganger by doing so, so of course he had to make up with it with a present…which had him very neatly distracted. He dashed around a clump of grass, snatching up a pink pebble, before he set it down again with a farewell nuzzle so it wouldn’t feel bad. It was pretty, it was –
Foot.
Mimic made no sound, but he jumped sideways, both wings flaring in upset; what had he done wrong, why was he being stepped on?! But the person (it was Emoyan, though Mimic didn’t recognize him) kept on going and Mimic turned to scurry back to his pink rock to make sure it wasn’t hurt after he’d made sure the clear one in his mouth was still safe (it was). Sadly squashed into the mud, the pink one; Mimic pried it out and set it carefully a few inches away before, curiously, he followed Emoyan.
The sound of firelizards reminded him, though, of why he was there to begin with. His was in Weyrling Lessons and Mimic would have loved to be with her, but they were learning to fly and LoveHis would prefer him not to accidentally get hurt. Doppelganger made such good company but Mimic adored his babylove, too. Babylooove~ Caution forgotten, Mimic reared onto his hind legs to cram his rock further into his mouth to prevent it falling out – it was big enough not to choke him, fortunately, for the Salamandyr wasn’t paying much attention to such a fact – before he darted forward. For such a small creature, Mimic was fast on his feet and it took only a few minutes to catch up to Emoyan just as the man stopped and spoke; past him Mimic went until he could rear onto his hind legs right in front of Riaren for a moment, spitting the pebble out so he could chirp happily at his babylove before he snatched it up again and scrambled forward to curl affectionately around the baby’s wrist; his tongue flicked out to rasp against Riaren’s palm.
Babylove, hi, the Salamandyr greeted Riaren with a purr; it didn’t occur to him that he might not be welcome – he was so excited to see Riaren, he was. And all of the flitters, of course. Because they looked nice. And their person, and the dragon, and the other person that Mimic had never seen before. Hi babylovesire, hi brownthing, hi flutterpretties. The greetings were accompanied by pleasant (if muffled) croons before Mimic squirmed to look up at Emoyan and croon up at him, too. Hi person. Like babylove? So love, so nice. Because the babylove was the best of all, even if other ones were nice too. The one freshest in his memory aside from Riaren was actually Terilyn, and she’d liked him and had been so nice – so of course all babies were nice. Oh – oh – he’d forgotten – how embarrassing – Am Mimic. Goldthing slave ‘n Meiralove. Babylove so love.
|
|
|
Post by glamourie on Nov 18, 2009 21:46:06 GMT -5
“… I wasn’t that smart as a child, you see. I got it into my head that I could take better care of myself than my parents and let me tell you in advance, sir, that was just not the case,” R’wign said down to Riaren with a slight bob of his head and wag of his finger. Interestingly, people who knew him might find R’wign’s manner of speaking different – he usually deliberately feigned a Selenitas accent, as though he was from there or the neighboring hold. With Riaren, he wasn’t even trying to disguise where he was from – distinctly northern, albeit subtle; R’wign was from Nerat but some of how he spoke was impacted by Fort since Healer Hall was so close by. The amount of people who knew how his voice really sounded when he spoke could be counted on one hand. At Selenitas, they consisted of Kalierre, Riaren, Ka’rys and R’wign himself. No one else. Riaren got R’wign without the shell – babies were disarming entities. “I ended up running away from home. I was nine turns old, which is this many more than you are now.” He held up eight fingers and crooked the ninth, to symbolize a half. “See, where I’m from, there’s a lot of cliffs and beaches and it’s quite tropical – like Selenitas only by the sea. When you’re older, your mommy and I will take you to go see the sea, it’s a pretty place and I think you’ll like it. Anyway – Nerat, that’s where I’m from...”
We have company, R’wignmine.
Huh? Looking up, R’wign turned his head just in time to see Emoyan’s approach. The fluttery fair all turned to look at the new arrival, chattering an assortment of greetings (and one loud spit from Grouch). Checkoth crooned pleasantly, eyes whirling, and Ellie rolled in Riaren’s grip to offer the new arrival a very sweet flute that could only be her own personal touch. All of R’wign’s firelizards were vocal but Ellie was by far the most quiet, usually settling for just one or two sweet sounds and the odds of her ever getting loud with them (outside of fussing over her eggs or flights) were slim. She just wasn’t a loud creature.
“Hello,” R’wign said, his story temporarily coming to a halt. He held Riaren close to him, arms winding around the baby’s midrift, and Riaren immediately pulled his fingers into his mouth. The painted nails fascinated him. “Don’t mind them, they’re noisy and obnoxious, and Grouch is always like that so it’s not personal. Hence his name.” The blue in question gave another hiss and hopped onto Checkoth’s head, thrusting out his chest. Immediately, he launched into a firelizard tirade that R’wign ignored and Checkoth tuned out, two lids of his eyes dropping closed. Clearly he didn’t approve of R’wign… what, telling the truth? Typical Grouch.
Riaren, still sucking on his father’s finger, looked up at Emoyan and smiled. It was just a normal smile of greeting; this wasn’t someone that he knew, and so he wasn’t excited by seeing him, but he was a social (if very quiet) baby nonetheless. His head tilted up to look up at R’wign, obviously waiting for the rest of the story. There was no doubting that Riaren was quite close to his father – perhaps too close; he already mimicked his facial expressions when they were together. If his papa didn’t dislike this man, neither did he (not that Riaren disliked anyone; he was quite happy, especially when people were talking to him). It was likely that he would have responded more had a familiar sight not come into his gaze and the baby reached one hand out toward Mimic, his head dropping to watch the salamandyr in recognition. He really only recognized a handful of people and creatures that he saw often, but Mimic, like R’wign’s firelizards, was recognized on sight. The little creature curling around his wrist earned a wide smile and he cooed quietly, the sound barely audible. He liked the lizard.
The firelizard in his hands wriggled and turned to look at Mimic with an interested flute. Ellie cocked her head to the side and sat up properly, her tail wrapping around Riaren’s free wrist undeniably protectively. R’wign glanced at her before looking down at Mimic and his nose crinkled, “I’ve got a name, you know. It’s R’wign.” One finger moved down to rub over Mimic’s back and he snorted. “You’re awful far from Meira.” His head tilted up and he looked from Mimic to Emoyan before saying curiously, “And you’re awful far from the candidate barracks, if my memory for faces is serving me correctly. Did I distract you from something? I’m sorry if I did – it wasn’t intentional. I like telling Riaren stories and the firelizards like to embellish. They’re real nuisances.”
|
|
|
Post by dragon on Nov 24, 2009 23:16:14 GMT -5
Emoyan paused, and lifted one foot slightly, watching as the little brown creature went dashing past him. That ... was a good way to get stomped. Being brown like that, and on the ground, and running that close to walking people ... It was a pretty good thing that Emoyan was already used to being aware of Salamandyrs and avoiding stepping on them. (Never mind he'd already nearly pulverized Mimic without even knowing it) "Careful there, little guy." He mentioned, with no real intent to be heard by anyone in particular... it was clear the mandyr was focused on something else entirely and clearly was going to ignore him.
Placing his feet squarely back on the ground again, Emoyan put his hands back into his pockets and just looked at the group that greeted (or scorned). "Quite the picnic party." He decided. Surely not all of those belonged to R'wign? Granted, he was pretty sure that a few were his ... but ... that many? Faranth help him. How could a fellow keep them all fed and happy? Not to mention a dragon and a child too. On top of other duties. Emoyan was frankly amazed that R'wign had time to sit there on the ground and talk to the kid.
Emoyan nodded a bit. "I am afraid you have me at a disadvantage, then. You clearly know who I am." He didn't know if that was disturbing ... or not. He wasn't used to being anybody noticeable from the crowd. "But, no. I was just out walking. Have to get away from the rugrats every now and then to preserve my sanity, after all." Emoyan lifted his shoulders in the barest of shrugs. "You seem to be a good storyteller - rapt audience and all." He offered with a bit of crooked grin. If only his classes were that attentive!
|
|
Avu
Weyrleader Ce'thian Rider A'emi Handler Sena Harper Matteo Weyrbrat Riaren
Posts: 2,439
|
Post by Avu on Nov 25, 2009 14:20:39 GMT -5
The greeting that Mimic received from Riaren was enough to make the brown coo right back at the baby, eyes whirling in shades of bright turquoise. The stone in his mouth was dropped into the safety of Riaren’s lap so he could lick the baby’s palm again, rubbing his head in a blatant display of affection against Riaren. He adored the baby – he honestly did. Riaren was so nice to him, and even if the baby hadn’t been nice, likely Mimic still would have adored him – because Meira did, and if His thought that the baby should be loved, then of course Mimic would love him. His was never wrong, after all! Tiny claws pressed carefully against Riaren’s thumb so that Mimic could lick the baby’s thumb for a moment before the Salamandyr crooned and leapt to his shoulder. Both wings flared for an instant before Mimic gained his balance and snuggled under the baby’s chin, against his neck; if he couldn’t cuddle with His, Doppelganger was the next best, but Riaren followed that closely and Doppelganger wouldn’t mind – Mimic had found him such a nice shiny!
R’wign’s words to him made Mimic croon, the sound apologetic, though he licked the brownrider’s finger when he was petted anyway. Sorry. So sorry. Hi, R’wign~ The words were emphasized by a flutter of his wings and another croon before he leaned forward to lick Riaren’s cheek pleasantly. Ellie was regarded solemnly for a moment before the brown Salamandyr cooed towards the gold, politely, and explained, partially in response to R’wign’s comment as well, Want to see babylove. So nice, babylove. LoveMine go fly. And he couldn’t be there. She had explained, of course, because Mimic had originally been very deflated at the idea of His not wanting him around – but the goldweyrling had hastened to assure him that she did want him around, but she trusted that Doppelganger would be upset if Mimic never went to visit him. So of course he had to use the time when His was at Lessons to see his favorite eggbrother~
The passing of words between R’wign and Emoyan was only vaguely noted by the Salamandyr; his concentration was focused primarily on Riaren. Specifically, on carefully licking his face and neck in an attempt to make the baby giggle. Both small wings were flared out to keep his balance, a low pleased croon emerging from Mimic’s throat as his entire body pressed against Riaren, trustingly; the baby wouldn’t let him fall! And anyway, even if he did fall, he’d just fall right onto Riaren’s shirt, most likely, or onto R’wign. Neither of which would hurt too badly; he’d taken worse falls before. The Salamandyr’s crooning had become decidedly close to humming. It wasn’t a conscious decision, to start ‘humming’ – it was just something that Meira did sometimes when Riaren needed to go to sleep and so Mimic had picked it up (especially since he slept at the same time Riaren did, roughly; he actually slept curled up right next to Riaren if he could) and associated it with Riaren.
Hum, lick, croon, lick, lick…Mimic didn’t even really care if he was ignored or not, even by Riaren; he just liked being curled up, so closely, with him. Not specifically Riaren, but Riaren was preferable out of those around at the moment. Love you~
|
|
|
Post by glamourie on Nov 26, 2009 0:13:00 GMT -5
R’wign offered Emoyan a brilliant smile. He decided not to point out that once upon a time, he’d had eight – mainly because thinking about the other two made him unhappy, even months later. It wasn’t his fault, exactly, but he did feel guilty. If he’d stayed out of the infirmary, and hadn’t gotten sick, Collision and Accident would probably still be with him. However, the rest of his firelizards hadn’t gone between – so was it really entirely his fault? He didn’t know what to think. He tried not to think about it. Quite the picnic party indeed. R’wign pushed some of the black strands that he’d cut away – more to make room for the new arrival than anything else. He hadn’t decided how short he was going to go, but cutting the runner tail off entirely took a huge chunk of the length away; initially his hair was close to his waist, now halved. He was sure that he’d have to leave the locks long in the front – there was no way around that. M’ta liked messing with his hair too much and while it might’ve seemed silly, he liked the other brownrider’s attention. It was cute, to him, getting his hair batted around; half of him wondered if M’ta disliked it… but he strongly suspected it was just a strange little quirk of the other male’s. So long in the front his hair would stay.
Disadvantage…? Well, there went his ego. R’wign smiled despite himself.
“Everyone knows Kalierre. No one pays attention to me. I am but a mere shadow to her glory,” he said with an exaggerated sigh. “Most people call me R’wign. Some call me the Firelizard Whisperer. The official title is Weyrhealer, not that anyone actually remembers that – for some reason people seem to think I’m just a peon and that Kalierre runs everything. And I’m content to let them think that. Saves me a lot of headaches. I only know who you are because you came into candidate master, I think two classes after I impressed.” He shrugged loftily. “I make a point to memorize the names of everyone in a ranking position, it saves me time when I’m treating patients – always know who to send them to when they’re injured, who to make sure any letters are addressed to in order to excuse them, et cetera. I must admit though, I miss Sel’n as Weyrlingmaster. Sending awkward innuendo to F’ur is just not the same.”
Winding his arms more firmly around the baby, R’wign looked down at the salamandyr. His expression was a wry grin. So Meira and Jingth were flying? That was good, he supposed, though he had trouble imagining Showoff would be leaving the lessons for any reason – surely Mimic could have stayed too. Not his place to make that call though, it was Meira’s. He leaned down to kiss Riaren’s head lightly and brushed one of the waves from his face. He inclined his head slightly toward Emoyan before grinning. “I should hope so. I’ve been practicing all my life to be decent at telling elaborate, ridiculous stories, and if my audience hated me, I don’t think I’d be able to bear it.” He was actually very good at being theatrical – and to more than just Riaren and his flitters. Honestly though, R’wign suspected Riaren really only cared that he was talking to him – not about what was being said. He was most likely too young to really understand the stories but that didn’t stop R’wign from telling them. Maybe when he was older Riaren would recall them and know more about his father’s history as a result. It seemed like a good idea to him.
“Did you want me to continue the story then? I was actually sort of in the middle of cutting my hair off too – can’t decide how long and short I want it though, so I could use the distraction.” The question was posed as much to Mimic as it was to Emoyan, although it was likely that he already knew the salamandyr’s response: he seemed more interested in curling around Riaren’s wrist than anything else. His head tilted to the side, and R’wign smiled – intending to be pleasant, disarming. R’wign didn’t really know much about Emoyan, though, so he didn’t know how well his behavior would be received.
The baby in his arms looked up at R’wign and smiled, though his free hand went down to rub over Mimic lovingly. He cooed, a quiet sound of approval, and wriggled in his father’s arms. Emoyan was spared a second look, but the real reaction came from the firelizards: Ellie squirmed free of the baby’s grasp to glide up to R’wign’s shoulder and preen prettily, while Roxie flew over to land on Emoyan himself. She squawked at the candidate master expectantly, her wings flaring; see how pretty she was? Scratches now, please. Grouch gave another indignant hiss, while Stumpy excited chattered and tumbled down Checkoth’s front, right onto the blanket next to R’wign. His squeal of joy was audible all along the river and made Riaren giggle at him. Hazard and Crash were a lot less interested in the new arrivals, both waiting for the story from Theirs to continue. They liked the stories very much, after all.
|
|
|
Post by dragon on Nov 29, 2009 23:14:47 GMT -5
Emoyan listened to the explanation of who he was looking at it, and grinned crookedly. "I can't say as I've ever gone to the infirmary." He admitted. "But I have heard of you." Emoyan added, with a nod, without bothering to add in what context, exactly, he'd heard R'wign's name mentioned. It seemed the youth was really good at getting into all sorts of ... or creating all sorts of ... interesting situations. Certainly tales abounded around the Weyr of his latest antics. "You're the one that likes pie to a fault, no?" He offered, with a chuckle, before taking the offered spot. Settling to a seat and tucking his legs into a crossed position, he settled relatively comfortably in the spot. Though if he stayed that way too long he might need help getting untangled and back to his feet. Emoyan rather felt he was aging altogether far to quickly. He wasn't that old yet!
Sending awkward innuendos to F'ur ... Emoyan had to just simply shake his head. "You let me know when that works." He remarked, wryly. If he knew F'ur at all ... the man was impossible to ruffle. Especially when it came to that particular topic. Emoyan was well convinced the bluerider was utterly, and completely, shameless. He still had to wonder how in the world he managed to get along with the crowds that Emoyan sent his way after Impression. Just ... weird.
Emoyan gestured openly with one hand to R'wign, with a nod. "Sure, go ahead. I'm just another set of ears." He chuckled. "And if you need help, I've a sharp knife." He offered. While it was decidedly a really awkward thing, possibly, for one fellow to help another whack off his hair ... Emoyan was well aware of how tricky that said adventure could be, and have it come out halfway presentable afterward. Without lopping off an ear or two... not to mention the added difficulty of a kid in the lap, a fair of flitters, and ... apparently only one eye. Sometimes, it just made sense to offer assistance.
Startled for a moment when Roxie landed on his shoulder, Emoyan offered her a grin, reaching up to scratch her obligingly, running his fingers to the places he knew Flitters liked to have scratched the most. At least - they had been consistent between Rascal and Voyager. Skink seemed flexible enough to reach all parts of her own hide, so her itchy spots were far different. "Hello there, gorgeous." he flattered, well knowing that an ego-stroked flitter was one that was much less liable to randomly go into rages and bite your nose off. "Now many of these are yours?" He asked, of R'wign, out of curiosity. "And where did the rest come from?"
|
|
Avu
Weyrleader Ce'thian Rider A'emi Handler Sena Harper Matteo Weyrbrat Riaren
Posts: 2,439
|
Post by Avu on Nov 30, 2009 17:43:49 GMT -5
It was likely very, very clear that Mimic was paying very little attention to Emoyan or R’wign or, indeed, any of the latter’s firelizards or even to Checkoth – it was Riaren who had his complete attention and the baby’s soft sound of approval was all it took to keep it on the baby. It didn’t hurt, either, that he was being rubbed; Mimic loved being petted almost as much as he liked being cuddled up to the babe. Still, he did keep a little bit of attention on what was being passed from brownrider to Candidatemaster for manners’ sake. It wouldn’t be nice to just ignore them now that he’d gotten to his faaaavorite baby, would it? No no; not at all and the idea of someone thinking he was deliberately being rude was such an upsetting one to Mimic. Baby whisperer, was the brown’s absentminded input; he spared both R’wign and Emoyan a swift glance before he returned his gaze to Riaren, one claw carefully pressing against Riaren’s fingers so he could lick the baby’s hands encouragingly. Baby and pretties whisperer~
The firelizards earned a slightly startled look from the Salamandyr – namely, Stumpy’s squeal; the brown’s wings flared out in surprise and he squeaked in response. Mimic was very much aware that His adored Stumpy, and the Salamandyr liked him by default because of that, but still; the blue’s antics had startled him. Still. Pretties were pretty; how could Mimic possibly dislike any of them? (Including Grouch – he liked Grouch because he liked R’wign and Grouch was R’wign’s, so he must be likeable!)
Cut? the question was, again, very absent. Why cut? Is pretty. Because everyone was pretty – absolutely everyone. Pretty story… Because yes, of course, that made sense. A quick swipe of his tongue across Riaren’s cheek before the brown Salamandyr stole a curious look at Emoyan; he would have talked to the man – because Mimic loved meeting new people – but he had a Riaren to dote on! Lick, lick. Fortunately for Riaren, Mimic wasn’t a wet licker; the brief touches of tongue to soft skin were more or less dry, just affectionate brushes. A pause as he glanced at Emoyan again, before the Salamandyr crooned, just loudly enough to be audible, and ‘whispered’, apparently having caught up with what was being said – Shh – storytime quiet polite please? The words weren’t by any stretch of imagination an accusation; only a hopeful, almost childlike plea. Babylove want hear, yes?
Because, clearly, since Riaren couldn’t speak, Mimic had to do it for him. His was busy, so he had to replace her, of course. Just for now, because His was perfect and Mimic wasn’t but that wouldn’t stop him trying! Purr, hum, lick. This was how it went, wasn’t it? Dote on Riaren…dote on Jingth…dote on himself; how did he do that…?
|
|
|
Post by glamourie on Dec 2, 2009 15:59:49 GMT -5
A wide grin passed over R’wign’s face. “My fondness for pie is a thing of legends,” he proclaimed, with just an ounce of pride in his voice (and a whole lot of amusement). He was curious, though, what else the candidate master could have heard about him. R’wign knew very well what sort of reputation he had with most people. Aside from being flamboyant enough to wear a dress to his own graduation, a bellydancer costume to a Gather and generally flirting with everyone – regardless of sex – he was also pretty sure that most people heard of him due to Lennae running around threatening people with knives thanks to him frustrating her. Odds were, Emoyan did not have too pleasant an opinion of him and R’wign wasn’t sure that he cared whether the man did or not. He believed firmly in forming an opinion of someone based on their merits – Emoyan was ‘neutral’ to him until proven otherwise. Simple really. He just hoped that…consideration would be shared by the other man. If not well, it wasn’t any big loss to him, he supposed. He seemed nice enough. “It’s my favorite food, yes, and I’ve been known to steal from the kitchens when they’re not looking. Sel’n never assigned me kitchen duty when he was Weyrlingmaster, I think because the drudges had him scared into submission. That or because I’m a healer and spend most of my time in the infirmary but – I prefer the funnier answer to the logical one.”
One hand came up to his as-of-yet unfinished hair, the other holding Riaren carefully in his lap. His eye fell on the knife next to him. It was very sharp – but it belonged to M’ta so that was to be expected. He’d filched it for the purpose of cutting his hair (and getting M’ta distracted long enough to steal one of his blades was a massive project in and of itself), which it decidedly was not designed for, but eh…
“I think I’m good – I mean, thanks, but I’m a perfectionist, I nitpick, I’d probably drive you nuts with my fixation on having it exactly right. I drive everyone crazy with my borderline obsessive tendencies,” R’wign said pleasantly as he shifted the baby in his lap. His gaze lingered on Mimic and he reached one hand down to stroke his back absently. “Cutting because it’s making me angry. I don’t like it this long. It frizzes. If you had curly hair – or hair at all – you’d get it. It takes forever to make it look acceptable and my vanity won’t let me leave the weyr with bad hair. It makes M’ta crazy. He makes fun of me for how much time I spend on it – doesn’t he, Riaren? Yes he does.”
The baby, perhaps understanding and perhaps not, looked up at his father and giggled in response to the question. His hands remained on Mimic, stroking him gently, and Riaren turned to look toward Emoyan as he spoke again. His green eyes, the same shade as his father’s, widened slightly before he crinkled his nose and cooed. He was quiet – not silent, but the noise wasn’t loud. It was something he’d gotten honestly from both parents, that ability to be painfully quiet, but R’wign liked to imagine he came by it from him… namely because Meira didn’t talk at all without prodding. Riaren had no problem giggling and cooing when he was happy, at least not with R’wign. Then again, R’wign had a gift for making people laugh so maybe he was the exception.
Wait, how many…? “All six of them look to me,” R’wign said with a blink, his gaze snaring on Roxie who leaned into the touch and fluttered her wings prettily. “She’s the oldest of them – I Impressed her here, when I first got here almost five turns ago. Her name is Roxie.” His free hand went up (Riaren’s gaze followed the rainbow nails excitedly) to point at the others on Checkoth. “The tiny blue who fell down is Stumpy. He’s half-salamandyr, from Dael’s first clutch. Roxie is Dael’s sister, actually. Or they were from the same clutch. Stumpy -?” The firelizard leapt to wing (oblivious to Mimic’s discomfort) and landed on R’wign’s arm before cooing at Emoyan in greeting. He was small enough to be a green, and his unnaturally long tail spoke volumes of his salamandyr heritage. “The other blue is Grouch – his name is apt.” A loud spit emphasized R’wign’s point and the healer rolled his eye. “The lone brown is Hazard, and – I think you have one of his salamandyr offspring? The bronze is Crash, and this beauty is Ellie.” He pointed to Ellie for emphasis and the queen fluted her greeting. “Crash and Grouch are the youngest, then Ellie, then Hazard, then Stumpy. It’s actually odd for all of them to be with me though. Usually Ellie and Grouch are the only companions I’ve got. They just like Riareeeen.”
The way that R’wign dragged out his son’s name turned it into a musical note and Stumpy chirped agreement, his wings flapping excitedly. The quick movement made Stumpy fall forward and he squealed again as he tumbled into Riaren’s arms, half on top of Mimic. Happily wiggling, the blue leaned his head back and he licked Mimic playfully. He wasn’t a scary worm like most of them~
“In fact, that’s what the story was,” R’wign said to Emoyan with a nod. “I was explaining to Riaren and the fluttery fair how I impressed my very first firelizard. He was a blue, and his name was Beggar. You see – I’m from Nerat, and when I was younger, I got it into my head it would be a good idea to run away to healer hall. Probably not my wisest decision, right?” He rocked Riaren, both hands coming down to settle around the baby. “I was running along the coast, and fell asleep under a tree… and I woke up, you can imagine, with this baby blue firelizard just begging me for food. He had just hatched and he was starving, and I couldn’t feed him fast enough. I didn’t know much about firelizards, because they’re just not common in the north – it didn’t dawn on me that if I fed him he’d never go away. So I went back to traveling and he’d beg for everything I ate… thus earning his name. He was Beggar.”
|
|
|
Post by dragon on Dec 3, 2009 0:38:59 GMT -5
Emoyan merely shrugged in answer to a lot of what R'wign had to say, as there really was nothing to say in return. But he couldn't help but grin at the interactions between everyone there, especially the babe. If someone had asked him to describe it, cute would definitely be among the words he'd use. His fingers played over Roxie's hide, scratching her lightly with his fingertips.
When R'wign announced that all the flitters looked to him, Emoyan's brows wandered up his face in lockstep. "Really." he remarked, looking at the fair again even as R'wign launched into a prolonged introduction. "Hello Roxie." he greeted, to the green he had on his person, before laughing softly at Stumpy's antics. "I take it most of them look after themselves, then?" Emoyan asked. "I've only two pets, myself, and they're almost as much of a handful as all my students put together somedays." He admitted. Of course, that was largely due to one of them being not only a 'mandyr, but more specifically Skink ... and then Rascal chasing her all over the place in an effort to try and catch the speedy little wretch. Sometimes Emoyan was convinced that Skink was worse than a tornado, judging by the state of his rooms when she got done with them. Especially considering her distinct attraction to ink of any color, and her fascination of spreading it all over the place.
Emoyan knew better than to ask what had happened to Beggar - whatever had happened to the blue, was unimportant. He knew from personal experience that such questions were better left unasked, no matter the innocent curiosity behind them. So instead he filled in the gap with a far better question, that was far safer to ask. He nodded to the boy, and asked. "How old is he?" If Emoyan had to guess, the kid wasn't very old at all. But one never knew anymore. "The mandyr yours, too?" It was a scary thought, if that mandyr belonged to the poor kid. In any event, Emoyan was pretty sure that the mandyr didn't look to R'wign, otherwise the brownrider would have listed him in the introduction of everyone. At least, that was his assumption.
Another thing that he noticed was the distinct theme behind the names of the flitters. It seemed quite plain that R'wign was not very imaginative when it came to naming his pets, as they seemed named more for their outstanding personality traits more than anything else. With the exception possibly of Roxie and Ellie, though he wasn't ready to bank on that either. No telling what those two names were short for.
|
|
Avu
Weyrleader Ce'thian Rider A'emi Handler Sena Harper Matteo Weyrbrat Riaren
Posts: 2,439
|
Post by Avu on Dec 4, 2009 20:48:43 GMT -5
The stroking made Mimic actually wriggle as he scrambled a little forward to curl more securely around Riaren’s wrist. Though he tilted his head slightly up to look at R’wign – because manners were important, he knew that very well, Mimic did – his croon never wavered, though it became more of a mental mantra contorted into a soothing, musical humming than actual separate words. Still, they were discernable; Mimic could be quite coherent, after all; he was basically repeating what R’wign was saying with words left out to make it sound more like it ought to be one flowing croon. It was easier than actually thinking of words to make his song out of and it helped him pay attention, too. Piiiieeee, the Salamandyr informed Riaren (privately; he’d interrupt R’wign and Emoyan if he broadcasted). Pielegend exaaactly~ His tongue flicked out to lick Riaren’s palm again; it was a very good thing ‘speech’ came mentally or Mimic would have been choking over himself. How hard it would be to decide which was more important, licking or crooning…
R’wign’s explanation about his hair made Mimic tilt his head curiously to look at the Healer, his crooning momentarily faltering as he rubbed his head against the brownrider’s hand in silent delight at being touched. The only response he offered was a low, pleasant croon – one that was actually audible and not mental. He had no hair, but LoveHis did – it was straight, dead straight, and required very little care though, so it didn’t compare, yes? And – and –
There was a firelizard on him. Mimic was not a small Salamandyr. He was relatively large for a brown (or at least, larger than Doppelganger and it was to Doppelganger that Mimic always compared himself to; he loved his eggbrother, he did) but he still was no match in size for a firelizard and Mimic actively squeaked, startled; he squirmed slightly. There was no outright panic because he’d risk hurting Riaren if he did that, but the Salamandyr did roll onto his back so he could see Stumpy. The lick to his head made the brown coo, almost automatically. Insert lick here, a coo will come out in due time. Hi bluepretty, he offered pleasantly, leaning forward in an attempt to lick Stumpy back; his tongue flicked out towards the firelizard’s muzzle. He was completely, utterly distracted – which wasn’t exactly unexpected. Hard to concentrate with someone larger than you on top of you, after all. Otherwise, he would have answered Emoyan’s question for himself – he knew very well who he looked to and he adored His, Mimic did~
Love hi bluepretty… A pause; a slight squirm. …squish. The word was almost apologetic, as if it was Mimic’s fault he was being squashed. It wasn’t, and he knew that on some level, but in saying so – he was asking Stumpy to move and if the blue was comfortable (sprawled on top of him?)…it wasn’t nice to ask him to move.
|
|
|
Post by glamourie on Dec 7, 2009 11:41:52 GMT -5
… he hadn’t heard of him then. R’wign raised an eyebrow and smirked slightly. Most people knew who he was for his firelizards – not his own reputation. It was definitely a nice contrast, though seeing anyone surprised by his fair of six was amusing in general. He’d had eight once, after all, and it left a pit in his stomach to think about them. The thought was pushed aside and he bobbed his head. “They’re pretty independent. Crash likes anything female, so he’s usually found with them,” he explained, and Crash fluted at his name, his wings giving a little twitch from his spot. R’wign didn’t see him, so he didn’t respond to the bronze’s antics; he could recognize his ‘voice’ but it didn’t bear commenting on. “Stumpy likes to follow around Meira – that’s who Mimic looks to; he’s not mine. I don’t think I could survive adding a salamandyr to this mix. Six firelizards and one very enthusiastic dragon is bad enough. But yes, Stumpy likes Meira, so he usually trails after her. Hazard tends to stick in the infirmary, whether I’m there or not. He sees it as his job to make sure that everything there runs smoothly and reports back to me. He’s my little spy. The only time Grouch leaves is when he’s harassing M’ta; so mostly, I have Ellie, Roxie, and Grouch with me.” He was the one who fed them, and who oiled them, and all the firelizards showed up when he was upset, or when it was time for bed. Aside from that…? They were usually very likely to flounce off alone. Who knew what they did.
His head dropped to Riaren and he shifted the baby in his arm before smiling. “Six months. Meira’s his mother, which is probably why Mimic is here,” he said with a slight nod. “I didn’t know you had two pets but – like I said, I remembered you Impressed one of the salamandyrs that Hazard sired. I think you Impressed one of the meaner ones?” He didn’t mean it accusingly. R’wign was not someone who really cared what pets acted like – he didn’t exactly have a right to judge, with Roxie and Grouch, even though he loved them beyond words. He loved all his flitters, really. “I tend to prefer flitters to salamandyrs – Ellie gets so flustered if they come near her eggs, because mandyrs like to eat them. Especially the bronzes and golds. She gets so fired up. Do you have two salamandyrs then?”
Squirming, Stumpy looked at Mimic and flapped his left wing – the one furthest from Riaren – in anxiety. Eyes whirling a myriad of upset, he squeaked audibly and flopped backwards as if burnt. Had he hurt the wormthing? Chattering nervously, Stumpy squirmed backwards and fell off of Riaren and out of R’wign’s arms entirely, to land in a splattered blue heap across the brownrider’s legs. There he flopped backwards, laying on his back with his wings spread, his tail twitching around, and he creeled; he hadn’t meant to hurt the worm thing. Oh he hoped that Meiralove wouldn’t be mad at him. Stumpy wiggled and flopped onto his stomach before crawling over to literally curl underneath R’wign’s knee, his entire body hidden from Mimic’s view. A soft peep escaped him, directed up to R’wign as opposed to the salamandyr: His wasn’t mad, was he…?
Glancing down at Stumpy, R’wign shifted Riaren. The baby turned his head to watch Stumpy and held one hand out curiously – why’d the little blue go byebye? He liked him too. He was like a grown up version of his doll. The baby squirmed slightly, obviously trying to get to the firelizard. Mimic was nice – he loved Mimic – but the upset firelizard had his attention. No being upset…
“He’s fine, Riaren,” R’wign whispered to the baby, who did not seem convinced. R’wign shrugged slightly and glanced at Emoyan before offering the baby tentatively. “Do you mind holding him for a moment? He’s fussy because of Stumpy – he loves firelizards, salamandyrs and dragons. I need to finish cutting my hair and I can’t do it with him wiggling like this, I’d be afraid of cutting him. I promise he won’t… freak out on you or anything. He’s usually very well behaved. Pretty much the perfect child if you want my opinion, but uh… biased.”
|
|
|
Post by dragon on Dec 9, 2009 0:17:28 GMT -5
Emoyan listened with interest as R'wign detailed what each flitter tended to do, nodding occasionally. It was good that they were more or less independent... Emoyan could not imagine trying to continuously care for that many creatures. Especially considering how high maintenance some of them could be. He nodded again at the comment that the mandyr was not, after all, his. Or the child's. But the child's mother. That made sense ... keep an eye on the baby, report back occasionally ... assuming the creature could do that much coherently.
"Well, I wouldn't say meaner. Skink isn't exactly mean. But she is definitely a bundle of trouble. She loves to wreck things, I swear that's her favorite hobby. Especially dumping over ink wells and tracking it all over the place. I've learned to keep them tightly lidded and stowed in a drawer." Emoyan chuckled a bit. "Otherwise my entire office would be blacker'n' between." He shrugged just ever so slightly. "But, no. I only have one salamandyr, thank Faranth. I never planned on having her, but ... eh. Things happen. My other pet is a flitter. A brown." Rascal was a lifesaver, sometimes, tracking down and retrieving Skink when Emoyan didn't have the faintest clue where to even start looking. Or patiently sitting on her for hours when all else failed to keep her out of trouble.
Emoyan readily accepted the child when R'wign offered him over, smiling down at the babe before settling the boy in his own lap. "Sure, I don't mind. Hello there." He greeted, before fishing in a pocket for a snack he knew was there. Kids, especially boys, were always hungry, that he knew. When he went on walks, he usually took a bit of something along with him, just in case he was out longer than planned. In this case, it was simply a strip of jerked meat. But that would do ... something tasty for Rairen to suck on, but no where near small enough to simply be swallowed. Emoyan offered it to the lad, wary of any dive-bomb attempts from any of the flitters. A crumb that broke off the end was picked up and flicked at Mimic, in case the mandyr wanted a taste, too. Skink and Rascal both adored jerky, and by proxy, Emoyan assumed other flitters and mandyrs did too.
|
|
Avu
Weyrleader Ce'thian Rider A'emi Handler Sena Harper Matteo Weyrbrat Riaren
Posts: 2,439
|
Post by Avu on Dec 9, 2009 20:54:13 GMT -5
Oh no no no. He’d upset the bluething. Mimic’s gaze mirrored how honestly upset the brown Salamandyr was; he could tell that he’d made Stumpy hurt on the inside. And – and he wasn’t a happyfixer. He knew happyfixers but he wasn’t one and he didn’t know how to fix Stumpy and make him happy again, what did he dooo. Squirm, squirm, creel; it was actually tempting to follow Stumpy under R’wign’s leg but Mimic was loathe to release his hold on Riaren at all. Then the baby might be sad because not only had Stumpy been upset but Mimic would have left him too and if Mimic hadn’t the first idea on how to fix one unhappy firelizard, then he certainly hadn’t the faintest clue on how to go about fixing an unhappy firelizard and a fretting baby. The Salamandyr actively cooed after Stumpy; tiny wings flared out and flapped. Prettyyyyy need happyfixer? he called hopefully after the blue. Sorry sorry. Get happyfixer make better, yes pretty? Raehappyfixer good yes? Yes yes? Maybe?
And – and Riaren was being handed off, and Mimic with him. The Salamandyr, disoriented and taken off guard (given that he’d been paying complete attention to Stumpy and Riaren and not R’wign or Emoyan), tumbled with a decided lack of grace off of Riaren’s wrist. Instinct said to grab with his claws. Learned habits overruled that, though, and Mimic tumbled tail over nose down into the baby’s lap and then crooned pleasantly upwards before he leapt onto Riaren’s wrist again, curling around and throwing an anxious look back at Stumpy. Pretty? Not happy? Need happyfixer… Now if only he was familiar enough with Raebeli’s mind to call the Healer. Or the other happyfixer, the not-Raeone that he couldn’t remember the name of, hmm hmm –
Yum.
The crumb of jerky flicked at him was caught instinctively in both paws, Mimic scrambling onto Riaren’s shoulder for a better perch; his tail curled around the baby’s neck loosely for balance before he reared onto his hind legs. The jerky was inspected with curious eyes before Mimic hesitated, looking back up at Stumpy. Maybe…maybe? The small piece was stuffed into his mouth, but he didn’t chew; instead, the Salamandyr blurted, Thanks candiman~ at Emoyan (‘candiman’ – a shortening of ‘Candidatemaster’ and ‘man’ because he was both, wasn’t he?) before he leapt off of Riaren and skittered around R’wign to look for Stumpy; the crumb was spat back into his paws and he crooned cautiously towards the firelizard. Yum make better?
Oh, yes, he was absolutely fixated on making Stumpy happy again. He was so distressed that he’d made the blue upset, after all; the least he could do was fix it.
|
|