Avu
Weyrleader Ce'thian Rider A'emi Handler Sena Harper Matteo Weyrbrat Riaren
Posts: 2,439
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Post by Avu on Oct 15, 2009 16:45:45 GMT -5
If you’re so worried, sit on her. /I’m/ not worried. “She’d bite me. And I’m not worried for me, I’m worried for you.” Don’t. I’m not afraid. You’re /Mine/, not Hers. “I’m Hers too.”
Must you argue with everything I say? I’m /not worried/. If others coped, I’m sure I can. The note of cool, arrogant finality in Ahth’s voice was hard to argue against, especially since R’ahre agreed that Ahth was superior to all other dragons, so he didn’t try, instead rubbing the side of his nose awkwardly before he leaned forward to curl his hand loosely around Sylph, trying to pull the Salamandyr, fast asleep by all appearances, out from underneath his bed where she’d slept, emitting a faint glow. The glow had been there, too, and Sylph had become steadily more destructive as the time grew nearer to her imminent Run; R’ahre had ended up locking everything remotely valuable and breakable in his trunk because otherwise, it would be stained, broken, torn to shreds – something, if he ever left Sylph alone with them. Even when he was there; she’d also become much more shameless and open about her destructive tendencies. So, yes; he was worried. Very much so. The green was going to Run and Ahth was still a hatchling…
Said blue wasn’t at all worried; he planned on sitting on His if need be. The door had already been locked, and Ahth was confident that His wouldn’t be doing any swan-dives out of the window. If he tried, then Ahth would trip him; if he was smart enough to unlock the door while under Sylph’s influence, he’d block the door and sit on His. So simple. Silly hisR’ahre. The blue eyed R’ahre, who was sprawled flat on his stomach, squinting under his bed, one arm being used to prop up his chin and the other stretched out beneath the bed. He wriggled his fingers awkwardly, felt them brush soft, oiled hide, and stretched a little farther. So close. So close…if he could just get Sylph out and poke her a little, he’d feel so much better. Ahth yawned quietly, curling his tail around his legs; the blue was sprawled idly in the last spot of sunlight left in their room – in other words, on top of M’kai’s bed. He was too big to fit, really, but it didn’t stop him trying; both wings draped over the sides comically and his eyes were half-lidded, focused on His.
“Whether or not you can cope – ” You’re arguing again, Ahth informed him simply. “I know I am!” Don’t. You’ll see. He stretched, and the bed gave a squeaky protest.
“You should really get off of that,” R’ahre commented, sitting up and shooting a narrow-eyed glare at the blue. “You’ll break it and then M’kai will flail at me…” The unconcerned look that was sent his way made Ahth’s feelings on M’kai’s flailing quite clear, and he exhaled, rolling his eyes before he pulled his legs up to his chest and leaned back against the bed idly, blinking at the ceiling. Blink. Maybe he should count the number of…of lumps or something; sitting and fretting was killing him.
Fortunately, Sylph did not plan for him to wait any longer. The green stretched, stirring, and then narrowed eyes laced with faint purple threads. So hungry. So hungry…she slunk out from beneath the bed, on the opposite side from R’ahre and Ahth, and then shot, little more than a green blur, to flatten, sliding beneath the door and vanishing into the hallway. Neither blue nor Rider saw anything; she allowed herself a brief flash of smugness before she padded more quickly down the hallway and then broke into a lope. Still the purple shades of her eyes were almost unnoticeable; they were primarily green. She knew where she was going, she did…she turned a sharp corner and out of the Weyrling Barracks before she threw herself up onto a nearby tree stump, turning in a small circle, tail snaking and flipping, the only sign of her nervous excitement, before it shot upwards like a flag and she shot forward in the direction of the Candidate Barracks. Her sister would be there, she knew. It wasn’t quite two in the afternoon; surely she’d be there…
Sisterlove! she called, privately, to that one mind she knew so well. Come! Run, let’s! Lovesister! That was the only statement she made, but it was enough; in the Weyrling Barracks, R’ahre jolted upright, eyes widening in a flare of panic, but though Sylph felt it, she gave no recognition; she turned and threw herself into a run again before latching onto a tree, pulling herself quickly to the lowest branch and flaring her frill. This time her words were broadcasted; three words, barely a sentence, almost fierce: Come ‘n get! Her tail wound around the tree’s branch, and her claws dug into the bark; she wanted to run, wanted it so badly, but she had to wait for her sister…had to wait…
“How’d she – I didn’t see – ” Why are you panicking? I’m not panicking, Ahth interrupted coolly, flopping off of M’kai’s bed (it groaned in relief) to crawl over to R’ahre and literally flop down next to him, planting his head firmly in the young man’s lap. The door is locked. I won’t let you crash through the window. If anyone else comes through the window I’ll bite them. What’s wrong? I’ll sit on you if need be. His tail flipped, curling possessively around R’ahre, and his eyes flickered curiously. It feels strange. Not bad, but strange. he commented.
“That, stupid, would be because I’m trying to hold back,” R’ahre informed the blue through gritted teeth. I expect that /would/ explain it. “You. Don’t. Say.”
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Post by dragon on Oct 15, 2009 17:15:02 GMT -5
Skink was curled up, nose tucked into her own coiled up tail, slumbering the day away in a hideyhole that used to be a book. A rare, expensive, real book. Now it was just a hollow shell that used to be a book, because the bitty mandyr had torn out the middle of all the pages to make a hideyhole. Likely as not, no one knew that it wasn't a book anymore, which made it all the better of a hideyhole. Snuffling on occasion, she grunted and twitched in her sleep, glow obscured from the rest of the world.
In his office, Emoyan was aware that Skink was maturing, but he didn't pay much attention to it. It was a familiar feeling, after all, one that he was used to enough that it didn't even occur to him to pay attention to it as he did paperwork between classes. It didn't seem to dawn on the man that what was happening was Skink, and not, after all, Kindrith. Despite the decidedly feminine twist that Skink held. She was green, after all, not a deprived blue. A dead, deprived blue.
Though she was sound asleep, Sylph's call came through loud and clear. The mandyr lifted her head, and blinked in the darkness. Yawning, she smacked her mouth a few times before slowly starting to uncoil from her tiny nest. Wiggling back out of the chewed tunnel in the pages of the book, she dropped out the back. Scampering along the rack, she dropped to the floor and took off at a run out the door.
With a frightful squawk, Rascal took wing and went after her, but even airborne he was too slow to catch up to the speeding mandyr. He followed her out of the office and through the common room, where he had to go between to get past the door that she scooted underneath.
I come, Sisterlove! I Run! I come! Wait for meeeee! Skink sang, zooming through the leaves and litter of the forest floor. Reaching the tree where Sylph was waiting, she scurried up the bark to the same branch, jumping to land on the branch itself in a stiff four-legged pronk of a landing. Flinging her tail up over her head, she flared her streaked frill and chirred. I here! We run! She cheered, before pronking forward and twisting her tail around her sister. Sisterlovesisterlove She cooed, before bouncing once more in expression of pent up energy.
Eyes sparkling in shades of violet, Skink took a nose-dive off the branch. Spreading her teensy wings, she steered her descent to land in a heap of leaves. Come get! See if you fast enough to catch! Skink echoed her sister's cry, all while digging herself back out of her landing.
In the office, Emoyan finally took notice of the emotions and desire rolling off of his pet. He frowned for a moment, and then stood up to go to the window. But there was nothing he could see from there, other than the tiny-seeming form of his brown flitter desperately trying to find the little Skink and keep her safe. Finally, he grinned just a bit. "Have fun, Skink." He remarked, to himself, not really sure how this was going to go.
He'd seen other mandyr owners running amok due to things like this ... how would it effect him, as Skink got revved up?
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Post by glamourie on Oct 15, 2009 18:42:20 GMT -5
Dumbsit give I get pretty. “Uh, what?” Tail smack straight to the neck. Dumbsit give I get pretty. And that was that.
Ka’rys rubbed his neck where Merce had smacked him with his tail and blinked, bemused. His salamandyr took a perverse glee in being confusing, and when he wasn’t understood, he would frequently smack Ka’rys (or others) with his tail to make a point. And his tail hurt; it was thin and whippy and just generally a vicious little instrument. Ka’rys was getting used to being smacked around by his pet, though, so he didn’t protest. What he didn’t understand was the ‘I get pretty’ part of Merce’s statement. He didn’t steal, usually, and he had no interest in shiny objects. Merce was usually very tame. For a salamandyr, he was quite well behaved, aside from the smacking. While Ka’rys frequently stated that he hated salamandyrs (thank you, Worm), he was okay with Merce. He liked his pet. So the odd behavior was more than just noted. He sat up from lounging on the couch and turned to look at the doorway as Merce went scampering out it at a bizarrely fast pace. His eyebrows raised and he looked over at Ciceroth’s lounging form curiously. What was his problem? Merce almost never copped an attitude with him. So weird.
The blue on the other hand went scampering down the hallway, running as fast as his little legs would carry him. He bolted up, running quickly to an array of rocks that passed over the river. From one stone to another, the blue salamandyr hopped, no doubt making a very comical sight. He finally reached land, sand kicking around his claws, and then he bolted over to the trunk of the tree the Candidate Barracks were in. And there he sat, frill flared wide, head tilted up, and he waited. He’d heard their call and he wanted to chase her. She was special.
Why? Because she talked like him. She was just as confusing in the way she worded things as he was, and though both twins were going to Run at once, Merce had little trouble deciding between the two. He liked Skink well enough, but Sylph was more appealing just because of the way she spoke… he could just imagine how much they could confuse people if they talked together. Confusing people was one of his favorite hobbies, so naturally he’d made his choice. Still, he did not disrespect Skink; staring upward, his gaze flicked from one sister to another, and when he spoke next it was to them both – just because he intended to chase Sylph didn’t mean that he was willing to offend her sister. He was better than that.
Beauties, he complimented, leaping onto the trunk, but not too close. He kept a very far distance between himself and the salamandyr greens, out of intelligence more than anything else. Better best pretty beauties love give best, he tacked on pleasantly. They hadn’t begun to Run… yet… but when they did, his preferences would be made clear. In the meantime, he was content to watch, admire the glow of both twins, two shades of one very pretty flower. Much better than those ones back at his home – those creatures that flew (how he hated that loud one, and the Ophelie-flit wasn’t much better because she was dumb). Even the little white Shadowcreature was inferior… but then, the Shadowcreature didn’t have sense enough to chase things so pretty as Sylph and Skink were. He wasn’t really the smartest salamandyr to ever hatch. He cared more about the squirmy thing.
I do believe, Ciceroth pleasantly told Ka’rys, a distinct edge of laughter in his ‘voice’, that our little blue cousin has found himself an interest. The candidate master and Ahth have salamandyrs that are running.
Ciceroth’s words made Ka’rys’s stomach plummet and he leapt off the couch to his feet before flailing his arms around. He was lucky that Savitri was there, because he didn’t wait even a moment before barreling out of the weyr to find some place… else… to be. The last thing he wanted was to end up in the furs with either Emoyan or R’ahre… but he also didn’t want to stay in his weyr. Merce had never chased before and he had no idea what the effect would be on him. If Ciceroth was anything to judge by, the last thing he needed to be was where he could be seen and confuse his children. Probably should have explained to vi but – he was counting on Ciceroth to tell Hepaticath what was going on. The bronze was usually very good about making fun of him.
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Kisha-Ra
Rider Mo?rya Rider Darya Rider K?fuzzi Rider J?on Handler Vivano Handler Yoalla
Happier'n a pig in mud ABOUT WHERBABIES!
Posts: 1,109
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Post by Kisha-Ra on Oct 16, 2009 15:15:06 GMT -5
Terrors that stalk the night could stalk the day as well, there was no rule against that. Troublemaker could stalk anytime her wanted, because, as his said, he was the biggest terror around. Although currently Trouble did not like his pet, O’dan had been trying to clear out Trouble’s things again, all his precious hoards of food gone! Oh Trouble would surely starve now… but before he wasted away there was something he had to do.
The brown salamandyr positively raced along, even though (for a wonder) no one was chasing him or shouting at him, and there was nothing stolen hanging out of his mouth. He was focused on some inscrutable goal, some bright wonder that he meant to possess for himself. If he could only find her.
At last Troublemaker found his way outside, instantly heading for dirt and fallen leaves and continuing his journey almost unseen. Where would they be, those little chaos beasts? Oh how he loved them, the wicked things, could he chase them both? Maybe, if they went the same way, and they normally did. Trouble fast! Trouble best, chaos makers love. He announced as he approached them.
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Ember
Administrator
T'san Iskierka Dy'shi Jazheera Ae'on Nephele Qaena K'dem Eikane
FLAME GURU OF THE UNDERWORLD
Posts: 1,832
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Post by Ember on Oct 18, 2009 16:37:58 GMT -5
Nephele was alerted to Charming's sudden change by Nuoth. Her two browns had been zipping about Nuoth's head playfully as the girl relaxed in her room. The older of the firelizards stopped his playing and randomly landed on Nuoth's head. He needed to borrow his perch for a minute, thank you.The green warned Hers, wondering if this is like how Misfit was before he went to chase (Nuoth didn't understand why waking up in the middle of the night to chase someone was so important) a green. "Can you tell what he's going to chase Nuoth?" The green said she couldn't.
Charming ignored his ladies as he prepped himself. He chirped once with satisfaction when he was done and flew out the open window. "Well then...That was interesting. If you hear anyone coming let me know." She really didn't want to upset Nuoth if some salamandyr's owner came barging in trying to...yeah. Really not wanted. She'd heard enough about them to know they were very influential to their owners.
The brown was surprised when he arrived to see two greens about to run. Oh my...who to choose? Conflicted, he was, about who to share his glorious self with. Maybe if he waited for a little bit it would become clear which one would best suit him? Maybe he could chase both! He landed on a nearby branch just as one of the twins leaped off and landed in a pile of leaves. He sat as regally as possible on the branch. It was clear what his opinion of himself was, but who should he bestow his flirtations to? He fluted to both pleasantly to leave his options open and waited.
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Requiem
Weyrleader S'rei WM M?ta Rider A'nd Harper/Handler Dmitri Weyrbrat Miguel
Posts: 2,861
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Post by Requiem on Oct 18, 2009 19:40:18 GMT -5
They shouldn't have been there. No reason whatsoever for the pregnant, crippled dragonhealer to be out near the weyrling and candidate barracks. Nor was Lust one to leave His much these days, so he would not have gone by himself. They shouldn't have been there, no, but they were just the same. Kalierre had to think. She and K'von needed to talk more, but she didn't know how to go about it, and it wasn't as if she'd be that productive at the infirmary in her present state of mind. It was nice to have R'wign there to cover for her...it really was. He was perhaps the only one she truly trusted in her absence. Savitri could handle things well enough, but she didn't have as extensive training...or the same way with people. Not that R'wign's people skills could really be described as anything other than bizarre.
Of course, her musings on the bank of the river, as she dangled her feet in the current, were interrupted by something familiar and foreign. Lust didn't often chase. He was, it turned out, exceedingly selective, having only chased and caught Vanity. Consistently. He'd never bothered with any other before, or after, but now his interest was most definitely there, warring with her mind. Only his head had poked up out of her shirt, nostrils flaring. Lust need Greenqueen, keep goldfatty 'way, he told her definitively. Will do, the bronze added. His tail brushed her neck almost seductively. He was in a mood he was.
"You don't need my permission. You've never needed my permission."
The bronze had known instinctively the approach of the glowing greens, but he didn't move until the invitation - the command. He was not to be commanded, but they would be forgiven this once. They didn't know he was here, after all, and any GreenQueen of his would be commanding all others, so said the Selenitas King.
He moved at a swift pace, skittering up the nearest tree, around, darting out over a branch and leaping across the trees. Flash of small wings in a glide, glinting of the sun off his hide. He brushed their minds in silent answer. He was coming, he was, the largest of all mandyrs aside from DaelMother - and nearly of a size with her. The Infirmary King. One of the greens would rule with him - or perhaps both. There was enough Lust to go around. They ran as one, so it only stood to reason that they might be caught as one.
The second of the sisters with the honor of receiving his attention - and given he'd only chased one other salamandyr in his nearly five turns of life, it actually was an honor instead of purely ego-driven - called out just as he came to a halt near the base of the tree. He stalked out into the light, his diamond pattern glistening in the afternoon sun.
Fast enough. Strong enough. GreenQueen Lust, share kingdom, rule 'firmary, rule lesser mandyrs. Who want? Nevermind that it was a little backwards, since he was supposed to be chasing, but if he couldn't have both, the one who responded best would receive his suit. Both were suitable. More than suitable. Only the best would be his queen.
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Avu
Weyrleader Ce'thian Rider A'emi Handler Sena Harper Matteo Weyrbrat Riaren
Posts: 2,439
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Post by Avu on Oct 18, 2009 19:49:24 GMT -5
Ah, and here was her sister! Sylph purred in welcome to the other green, though past that no words were offered in greeting. She was clearly preoccupied, literally trembling with the excitement. Her claws dug into the bark erratically, allowing her sister to wind her tail around hers; a low croon grated from her throat. How she wanted to run. Not mate – just run. Just run and run and run until she reached the ends of Pern – and maybe she’d run farther than that, too. She wanted…so badly. And yet, something undefined, irresistibly strong, held her in place. Only for the moment – but held her nonetheless. Her frill trembled slightly, and she turned in a nervous circle before she clung tightly to the branch as Skink jumped off, claws and tail latching onto the branch so she wasn’t literally tossed off at the shift of weight. That would be bad, bad…she paced from one length of the branch and back again, before she scurried back to peer at Skink as the green also uttered her challenge – and then words. She heard words that were not uttered in a feminine voice, but spoken in a Salamandyr’s tongue. She whirled, and then her head tilted.
Merce…
Best we, she agreed (ever so modestly), before glancing down with a smug little purr at him. He was a Salamandyr – and therein lay her reasons for being fine with his presence. He wasn’t a fluttery thing and that made him okay by default. Another voice – and oh, oh, what was that Troublemaker had said…? ‘Chaos makers’. Oh, she liked that. So very much. She skittered the length of the branch again. Chaos makers, she repeated. Best chaos. Best. Her tail wound momentarily around the branch again, and she frilled proudly before she caught sight of Charming. Immediately her demeanor changed; her frill stiffened and a low hiss emerged from her throat before she dug her claws deeper into the wood, this time out of malice. A winged nuisance dared to chase her? Or her sister? No! No! She actively spat at Charming before she caught sight of Lust. The bronze received a chirrup that was deliberately sweet as opposed to her reception of Charming before she skittered down the length of the branch and leapt off of it.
She hit the ground running, but her body made an audible splat upon contact with the dirt, but Sylph didn’t pause to give sign of pain – and indeed, she was too infuriated to feel it. Her paws covered ground rapidly, carrying her over the ground as little more than a green blur – she’d always been startlingly fast, but her fury and desire to run, run as fast and as far as she could, spurred her on. Her path went straight – into the jungle. The thick undergrowth didn’t stop her – it was just a testing ground, was it not? She dove into it, unheeding of the leaves that brushed against her body, a twig that scraped the length of her back and drew a thin line of ichor. Even if Charming had chosen to chase Skink instead of she, it made no difference; how dare the brown think himself worthy of either of them?! So upset. So angry. Fast! Fast must, she broadcasted back to her sister, including all of the males nearby – and that included Charming; she hadn’t the forethought to leave him out.
R’ahre curled tightly into a ball, winding his arms tightly around his legs and worrying at his lip nervously. Sylph’s rage hit him hard and he actively shivered before turning to stare at Ahth anxiously, eyes wide before he blinked at the blue and resisted the urge to twitch. “Are you okay?” he whispered, only slightly reassured by the calm, steady gaze that Ahth returned. He was twitchier than his dragon was. At this rate, it’d be him who was traumatized, not Ahth. The blue was fine. Calm. Even bored. R’ahre half-uncurled before swallowing thickly, pressing his palms against the floor. Oddly, he felt no lust – only anger, and the need, the need to run…and the need almost consumed him, made him want to spring to his feet and bolt for the door. Only the semi-conscious knowledge that it was locked kept him seated, and he turned to blink at Ahth again, willing the blue to keep him mentally there, himself. But there was no effort on the part of the dragon. Ahth wasn’t terrified. At all. But if R’ahre did loose control…would he be?
No, Ahth answered his thoughts calmly. You may do whatever. I know you’re Mine and I know the spy won’t take you from me and nobody else will either. There is nothing to worry about. I told you I would not be afraid. I did not lie. His eyes half-lidded, and the colors swirling within were disturbingly calm: Blues without the slightest tint of agitated orange or yellow. He was, R’ahre decided through the haze and the insistent need to run, run, run – not only superior to other dragons. He was also completely crazy.
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Post by archenstone on Oct 18, 2009 21:56:55 GMT -5
X'vier was swimming in a part of the river where it pooled and the current eased. Beauties! Run! Passion love glowing hides, run, run, fast! Passion spoke best when after a female. X'vier about choked as he instinctively opened his mouth to curse and quickly surfaced. Mirazeth? Is he really chasing this time? Even as he swam towards the river bank he could feel Mirazeth's humor and Passion's excitement.
I do believe he's running this time.....yes....yes he is. X'vier felt rising apprehension. Just what was so funny? Mirazeth.....who runs? The only answer was Mirazeth's increasing humor at the knowledge that his would be involved in a mandyr run today....with no cute female to appreciate it with.
Passion ran, leaping over things and scurrying under things. He was so far away when he heard the call, eyeing the gold Ellie of course. He simply loved watching the female dragons....not to mention cuddling up to them and climbing on them.
By the time he crossed the river e realized he was closest to Sylph and adjusted his course to try and intercept her. Pretty, lovely, beauty! Run, swift, glow! Come run, I catch! As she wizzed by he opened his frill in display and chased....eyeing the competitors. They weren't worth talking to. He was confident he would catch and chased happily.
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Post by dragon on Oct 21, 2009 12:28:31 GMT -5
Skink cooed lightly at the males that arrived, pausing to admire each in their own right. It seemed that for a moment she was totally enthralled in star gazing, to completely forget what it was she was supposed to be doing. Pretty hides, shiny colors! With a chirp, she turned to look up at Sylph, just as her sister also leapt from the tree to splat onto the ground. Sylph had a far rougher landing of it, and Skink winced inwardly at that. Sister need be careful Skink admonished, with worry, before jumping up out of her pile of leaves and streaking after her.
Sylph Run! Pretty Sylph! Pretty pretty! Skink run! Pretty Skink! Pretty Pretty! Chase! Chase! Run! Fly! Fast! Fast! Faster, fastest! Run run run! She chanted, happily, throwing her tail up into the air in a high loft behind her, little short legs a blur as she raced across the ground. Her wings, though diminutive and not any good for flying, were also thrown up, to act as rudders in the air, holding her down into better contact with the ground.
Every so often she flared her frill, exposing the lightening streaks on it, before clapping it shut again, against her neck. She zoomed over ground and leaves, under twigs and around stumps and trees. All while chasing after Sylph like that was all she was supposed to be doing. Chasing Sylph. Instead of holding her own Run, herself.
Oh, but she was Running ... just in the same direction as Sylph! They did everything together, after all, did they not? Together! Forever! Sylph and Skink. The little green bounced twice in her run, before going back to speeding along the ground. Fast must! Fast! Skink echoed, worming her head back and forth and up and down in lead to the rest of her body streaking through the leaves and over things or under them. Nose-first, Skink ran into the jungle, never thinking of what else might be out there. Not that it mattered ... what could possible catch Skink and Sylph, after all?! Nothing! Nobody was as fast as they!
Inside the Candidate barracks office, Emoyan leaned on the edge of the window, staring absently off in the direction the two mandyrs were leading their merry little chase, musing. He never noticed when Rascal fluttered in and landed on the desk. His attention was elsewhere, with Skink, who was slowly but inevitably trying to take over his mind. It was an interesting sensation to the man, no doubt. It was something he hadn't felt since the very first turns with Kindrith. But for this to effect him this way now, even after all that desensitizing he'd gotten from Kindrith ... that was some potent effect that Skink was having on him.
Were all mandyrs that way? That explained a lot of really erratic behavior, then. Why people ran around thinking they were the mandyr, instead of the typical flight incidence that happened with dragons. At which point, a new thought occurred to Emoyan. Since he obviously didn't know how far Skink was going to get successfully in his own mind ... he'd better get out of there. And away from the candidates.
Suddenly a flurry of decisive movement, Emoyan left the wall where he had been leaning, and strode out of the office. Rascal squeaked a protest, and fluttered after him to land on his shoulder and wrap his tail possessively around Emoyan's neck. Without really thinking about it, Emoyan patted Rascal's shoulder in reassurance, even as he left the common room of the barracks and headed down the stairs.
Where was he going? He had no earthly idea where he should go. What would be a good place. But it was going to be anywhere but here. Near either of the barracks. Giving a half a thought to it, Emoyan decided that he, too, would go into the forest. Was this terribly wise, or was it prompted by Skink? He didn't even think about it. He just went. Mostly because if anyone else was going to be out there, it was because they thought they were their mandyr. Which lessened the chances of an incident with someone uninvolved drastically.
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Kisha-Ra
Rider Mo?rya Rider Darya Rider K?fuzzi Rider J?on Handler Vivano Handler Yoalla
Happier'n a pig in mud ABOUT WHERBABIES!
Posts: 1,109
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Post by Kisha-Ra on Oct 22, 2009 10:40:30 GMT -5
Troublemaker flared his frill proudly; he had pleased them with his comment. Trouble ignored the fact that only Sylph had actually acknowledged his words, if they pleased Sylph, they’d surely please Skink as well. They were a matched pair of chaos makers, those two.
Wait, what angered his Sylph? Oh one of those stupid things. They were most annoying, very stupid, and quite amazingly ugly too. No wonder the other brown’s presence was so unwelcome. It was insulting, that was what it was. Well at least there were some good males there to chase her and her sister. Trouble knew what pretty, clever females like them were due.
Fast, faster. Fastest must. The brown salamandyr instantly replied as the greens took off running, in the same direction too, for a wonder. Trouble flattened his wings and frill down against his body as he leapt forward after them, stretching his legs out into a ground devouring pace. Yes they were the fastest ever, but Troublemaker was determined to catch at least one of them, and yes, the thought had occurred to the brown that he was so wonderful they might both choose him.
Troublemaker seemed to vanish in piles of fallen leaves and twigs, then became visible on a patch of grass, and almost invisible again as he crossed a patch of bare earth, in other circumstances the change might have fascinated him so much that he’d stop somewhere and wait to scare someone or steal something, today however, he simply could not, he’d just have to note it for later. Skink and Sylph were even more important than trouble unmade.
Flirt. O’dan accused his green, slapping Emerith lightly on the flank.
It’s not me.[/color] The green objected. It’s Troublemaker.[/color]
Od’an sighed heavily. isn’t one chase enough for him? O’dan asked irritably, brushing back his hair nervously. I don’t want any more old guys. In the back of his mind he thought maybe he was being unfair to Roivao, he wasn’t all that old, and of course he had no idea who was bonded to whatever green (he assumed it was a green) Trouble had found.
I don’t know, you seemed to enjoy it.[/color] Emerith flicked her tail against her rider gently. You’d better get going anyway. At least you aren’t likely to hurt yourself this time.[/color] For a moment it seemed as if Emerith would say more, but she didn’t.
O’dan hesitated, then, as Troublemaker raced after Sylph and Skink, O’dan sprinted away from his dragon, seeming to choose a direction almost at random. He had to catch up to those pretty chaos makers.
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Post by glamourie on Oct 22, 2009 19:45:09 GMT -5
There were others at last, but they weren’t fast enough, or so Merce thought. From his spot, he resisted the urge to flare his frill and slap the others with his tail – what was wrong with them for not arriving immediately? What made them think for one second that they could wait at all? Fools, they were. Especially the one that commanded Sylph and Skink as if he was in charge. Bronzes were not very smart. He would know; His was a bronze and His wasn’t very smart (even though he was His and was therefore the best). Oh well; Merce discarded any acknowledgment for the fool-creature who surely knew that he could not even hope to keep up with the wicked twins. It wasn’t worth his time worrying over it. Sylph and Skink were more important, and Merce focused his attention on them. His eyes became a shade of purple that matched his blue body flawlessly; he very distinctly resembled a bruise in coloration. The blue salamandyr raked his claws along the edge of the tree, watching Sylph and Skink both with interest – so pretty. No response. No explanation. No words. It was better, he thought, to admire them both and let them have their glory – yes, yes, that was what he’d do. He didn’t want to draw attention to himself.
The glowing beauty dropped from the tree and Merce curled on his own body, falling to the ground with a comical splat that kicked mud up around his feet. He didn’t make an effort to stop, though, instead flinging himself forward at a gallop that probably looked comical to those watching him. Up, down, up, down he went, feet hitting the ground and making a steady thump-thump-thump every time he did so. The approach of the jungle pleased him and rather than follow through the tangled vines and foliage, the blue salamandyr leapt onto a creeping vine and flung himself forward onto a branch. His claws scraped, coming away with bark and still he ran, bolting forward every few seconds. Branch to branch to branch he leapt, above rather than on the ground – it gave him a better view of both twins, it did, and he liked the view. Plus following Skink and Sylph through the foliage almost completely guaranteed that he would get scratched up and that he couldn’t abide. He’d look a fool and he wanted Sylphpretty to see how lovely he really was.
Bounce, bounce, bounce. He flung himself onto one of the low hanging branches and then went flying down to the ground, wings spreading to carry him forward on an awkwardly, jolty glide that lasted a few seconds before he landed on the leaves. Ooof.
Fast pretty slipslide evil leaf hate kill slip pretty don’t, he commented; particularly verbose for a blue, though even he had trouble following that statement.
He really didn’t know where he was going. On one hand, staying in his own weyr probably would’ve been smart (after all, Savitri was there). On the other, instinct told him he needed to be where there were leaves to be slipping on and – comically enough – Ka’rys actively slipped on the stone floor as he wanted up toward the stairs leading outside. He latched mentally to Ciceroth, because the idea of losing himself entirely to Merce was terrifying; he’d seen firsthand what happened when the little nuisances chased and he did not want to cause that for anyone. He was almost gone by the time he made it outside – close enough that it took him a moment to register weight knocking him over as external and not an evil tree (and he did actively hiss ‘Bad stupid’ before catching himself). Nevertheless, right at the top of the stairs, Ka’rys was sprawled onto his stomach and being forcibly held down by bronze dragon foot.
No one could say that Ciceroth wasn’t useful from time to time, even if he was deriving unholy amusement from the discomfort His was feeling. It was really only knowledge that Skink and Sylph looked to Emoyan and Ahth’s respectively that even made him cooperative… though odds were, the blue pest wouldn’t catch anything.
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Requiem
Weyrleader S'rei WM M?ta Rider A'nd Harper/Handler Dmitri Weyrbrat Miguel
Posts: 2,861
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Post by Requiem on Oct 23, 2009 0:33:44 GMT -5
Ignoring him, were they? Not amusing. Lust stood as he was, not moving to follow as the two little greens flittered off with the foolish ones behind. What creature would want a mate who was more interested in another 'mandyr over himself? Lust didn't share, nor did he have any intention to start anytime soon. Normally he would have just walked away at this point, wholly uninterested, but there was the matter of the turf war and the fact that he greatly disliked being inconvenienced. He'd come this far away from His, and shards if he was going to put the time to waste.
He'd just have to win both greens. Then the issue of sharing would be moot.
They all had a headstart on him, but he was fine with that. He could still see the gleaming hides on the edge of vision. Lust folded his frill, crouching low and whipping around branches and leaves, his body streamlined for speed. The salamandyr skirted around trees, not following their path directly. Green chasing green, or so it seemed. Unnatrual. He plunged through a bed of leaves, which crackled dryly in his passage.
Kalierre didn't move from her position, her bare feet in the waters. She rested in Phremath, who was currently splashing not far distant. The green was ever capable of entertaining herself. Lying back, the greenrider stretched and stared up at the sky. Her lip curled in what was part snarl and part smirk. Lust, chasing again. She supposed it was about time - he'd seemed wholly uninterested in all such matters for over a turn now.
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Avu
Weyrleader Ce'thian Rider A'emi Handler Sena Harper Matteo Weyrbrat Riaren
Posts: 2,439
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Post by Avu on Oct 24, 2009 16:47:08 GMT -5
There was almost no sound to mark Sylph’s progress. It helped that the green was absolutely tiny, not to mention she was leading. She knew where she was going, she did. Each spring took her neatly over an interfering twig, or she ghosted by a leaf that reached out for her, spinning into hairpin turns whenever the fancy took her. Deeper into the jungle she went, for the moment completely ignoring the males that fell in line behind her. Whether or not they had even followed, Sylph neither knew nor cared. She didn’t want to mate; she just wanted to run. Run, run until she met the ends of Pern and ran right off into the sky, forever and ever, went so high up that not even those bratty firelizards could ever dream of catching up. Faster, faster, the green went, paws skidding on the soft loam underfoot and throwing up a spurt of damp soil, before she changed course abruptly and actually threw herself up a tree. Her claws latched on and she tilted her head sideways, at last acknowledging the words that had brushed against her mind before.
Four voices, she’d heard. One she recognized as her sister; another as the one who had called them the chaos makers; and another as the first who had come, the blue sibling; the fourth she hadn’t heard before in recent memory. Had she attracted a latecomer, then? And – a flash of confusion flickered through her mind – was Skink Chasing her?
…
Her head tilted, frill half-flaring erratically, pale green and glowing in the dimly lit jungle, before she threw herself off of the branch she’d clung to previously and landed on a tree, backtracking herself until she saw, beneath her, her pursuers. One, two, three, four, five Salamandyrs. The bronze one had not spoken, then, and the new one was a blue. Sylph liked blues, she did. Blues were nice – like Ahth. They were good at plotting, they were. Very helpful. She trilled, just loudly enough to be audible, before she skittered down the tree, hitting the ground hard and actually tumbling tail over head before she dug her claws into the soil, throwing a backwards look at the five, before she tilted her head at Skink and inquired, Chase or Run you? She just wanted to know; nothing more infuriating than making a mistake when it was her day, hers and her sister’s, day to shine.
Sylph didn’t wait for a reply, though; her sister could bespeak her anywhere, after all. The tiny green skittered off in the opposite direction, tracing her original path backwards and adding a series of twists around large obstacles when a fallen log abruptly blocked her way. The Salamandyr’s low hiss of fury was almost inaudible before she leapt, clawing at the log until she’d pulled herself up and ran along its length. Listen! she commanded of the males, frilling as she paused to look back at them. Best am chaos makers. Best else you?
Which of them was the best? She didn’t, after all, want to run into the sky alone; she had to have a companion, but Sylph was arrogant, she was. Her sister and herself were the best, but after that – Who you? – which of them?
I think, Ahth decided, disentangling himself from R’ahre carefully, I am going to sleep. Please, wake me, won’t you, when something actually happens? This is /most/ boring. All she’s doing is running around and screeching at the stupids. One wing came up to brush over his face politely to hide the yawn, and then the dark blue hatchling, ignoring the mixed look of fury and disbelief on R’ahre’s face, slunk to crawl back into M’kai’s bed and curl up, lidding his eyes quietly. Not really asleep, but dozing; he’d promised His that he would stop anyone who tried to come in (nobody had yet, interesting), after all, and Ahth did not make promises to His without full intent of following up on them. Oh, he’d made a number of empty promises to others; he had no problem with lying…but they had not been His. His was special. He and Baoth were perhaps the only two that Ahth spoke to regularly who had not been lied to; Ahth didn’t intend to start when His was so upset.
It would be foolish.
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Post by dragon on Oct 24, 2009 19:35:35 GMT -5
Skink scampered playfully over a branch that had fallen to the ground, running up the forking branches quick fast before jumping off the little finger ends and flaring all her frill and wing capacity. She landed with a thump anyway, but she scooted forward again swiftly, following after Sylph. After a few split seconds of that, though, Skink decided that this was rather boring. Running was fun, yes, but they weren't going anywhere that she knew of. There had been no destination agreed upon. Much less any mischief to do once they got there. For a moment she considered breaking off on her own, but then Sylph started up a tree.
Oh, fun! A tree! Skink chirped happily and twirled up the trunk quickly, before pulling off on a separate branch. Zooming along the branch, she ran into a bunch of leaves that were a bit more resisting than she'd anticipated. Significantly slowed, she wailed a moment, flailing to get free of the securely attached leaves. Zooming back down the branch once she got free, she paused to look around and see where everyone else was. Most importantly Sylph, of course, but the others were also noted as well.
For a moment she paused, before spotting one male of each color in pursuit still. Where were the rest? Where was the flitter? Skink actually didn't have anything against flitters - she lived with Rascal, after all, and the flitter had rescued her once. Which naturally endeared him to her a bit. And by proxy, all other brown flitters were okay. So she was disappointed that some of the males had fallen out. Never mind it was to realistically be expected. No one was as fast as Skink and Sylph, after all!
A sound and question from Sylph caught Skink's attention again, and she jumped off the branch to attach to the trunk and zip around and back down again. Chase? Run? Chase? Run? CHASE? RUN? Skink didn't see why she couldn't do both. But since Sylph had implied she could only do one at the same time, it left her in something of a conundrum. Apparently, she had to decide. Decide, decide. What to do? What to decide? Decisions were always so harddddd! Why were decisions so hard?
Wait.
What was she supposed to decide? Urrrrrrhhhmm. Skink had forgotten what the question was. So she defaulted back to her previous statements for an answer. Maybe it would work? Run! Run! Fastest must! Run fast! Weeeeee! Fastest must! She called, to everyone, borrowing a phrase from Trouble.
Skink bounced off the trunk, forgetting that gravity wasn't going to pull her back to the trunk. With a squeak of startlement, she plunged in a flailing tumble all the rest of the way to the ground. The leaves and loam there cushioned her landing, even somewhat bouncing her back. Flying in an arc in yet another flailing tumble, Skink did manage to land on her feet again. But now she was completely turned around and had no idea where Sylph was. Run Run! She announced, taking off on her own tangent into the forest.
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Post by archenstone on Oct 24, 2009 20:25:14 GMT -5
Show Passion Pretty! Passion want see Pretty! I find Pretty! He cooed after Sylph as he struggled to keep up with her. Over a log and under a branch he skittered as fast as he could and disregarded the twigs that brushed against him annoyingly. He was running up a tree when he caught sight of Sylph falling down from another tree as he sister ran up it. Two pretties? He was plenty for two pretties. He trilled happily and leaped, spreading what wings he had. He glided back down towards Sylph as fast as he could. No get hurt Pretty Pretty He cooed at her as she tumbled on the ground. He was close enough to the ground that he dropped the rest of the way.
He ran towards her and paused as she took time to stop and frill at him. Of course it was only to him. The others weren't worth pausing for. Passion best! Me! Chaos Pretty best too! She was worth it all and started to run towards her again. She would welcome him yes? Yes? He eagerly skittered after her.
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