the storm will come. [calistoth's flight]

[glamourie]

Though it was the middle of the afternoon, the sky was pitch black, broken only by churning gray storm clouds that billowed from horizon to horizon. Sunlight was blotted out. The only source of light came in the form of eerie blue-white bolts dancing from cloud-to-cloud and occasionally raining down onto the ground far below. The wind carried icy droplets of water as it howled ominously through the canyon. Even the sound of the waterfalls was dulled in comparison to the storm blowing off the sea, but the most prominent aspect was the booming thunder, loud enough to shake the objects on the shelves and tables of the upper-most weyrs of Selenitas. Those who rode the smaller dragon colors would find themselves picking up broken objects falling from their locations if they weren’t too careful. It was nasty weather, but nothing out of the ordinary for Selenitas in the Fall. The rain was a near constant companion and those used to the Weyr were probably not that surprised by the stampede-like noise echoing through the rocks. Those who were new would become accustomed very quickly. Tropical storms were always very intense.

The wind speed wasn’t strong enough to affect a creature as large as a dragon, though, and the darkness highlighted one single form on her weyrledge curled into a tight ball. Calistoth’s hide was practically luminous. Even outside of flight, she looked like she was about to Rise, but the glow in her skin was impossible to miss. Her tail snaked around her sleeping form and flicked back and forth restlessly. Like a beacon, she was, and it was blatant to anyone who gazed at her that when she woke, she’d Rise… storm or no storm. Calistoth wasn’t known for picking convenient times to Fly, though. In fact, it was a miracle she didn’t Rise while most of the Weyr was at Gather -- last time she went up, she’d timed it almost perfectly, so much so that K’lir would have bet it was intentional. What was a storm in comparison to that?

Her rider was significantly less than pleased by his green’s timing, though. Upon waking up (mid-morning), he’d noticed Calistoth’s glow, felt her need, and he’d leapt to his feet. Panicked, K’lir gathered up Kahrelir’s things and took the confused toddler to visit R’wign in the infirmary. The absolute last thing he wanted was for his baby to be near him when his green went up. Though he rarely lost himself completely to flightlust until she was Caught, it would be a bad experience for the child regardless. After seeing to it that Kahrelir was settled in (and R’wign wasn’t going to cry from trauma; Checkoth, apparently, had no interest in chasing Calistoth despite the green’s interest in him), he’d snatched Showoff. The salamandyr positively squealed in rage initially, but upon realizing why he was being displaced, finally calmed himself; K’lir left him in the kitchens to cause insanity (no doubt one of Showoff’s favorite pastimes) and then he made his way up to the flight rooms.

The one thing that could be said about them was that they were roomie. Unfortunately, there was no one to guard the door and keep him in, which made the flight rooms slightly unappealing to K’lir. When Calistoth Rose, he became very… destructive. Oh, he was consciously very aware of what he was doing but that didn’t stop him. Breaking things, tearing fabric, it all felt very satisfying, but not half as much as going after someone like Rielana would have. He didn’t trust himself at all. Nevertheless, he sat right on the center of the furs, his legs curled underneath him. Some riders changed into more loose-fitting clothing, or wore nothing at all. K’lir was not one of them. He wore loose-fitting clothing to start with, and he’d doubtlessly lose his clothes somewhere along the way, but it felt better to have them starting out. Better. Safer. At least with his clothing on there was some level of control. The worst part about flights for him was the utter lack thereof. He liked being aware of what he was doing… liked having some say. Calistoth didn’t give him very much.

Her tail flicked again. K’lir flopped backwards, his body sprawled out save for his legs, which were folded underneath him. Then the green’s eyes flashed open, swirling rapid violet hues with undertones of red, and she flared her wings as far as they possibly could. The tips brushed down against her weyrledge as Calistoth stretched her entire body out, showing her full length off for all to see. The splatters of rain against her hide made her shake herself; it felt so cold and she was so hot - on fire. A low growl of rage settled in her throat before the green threw herself into the air and glided up to the feeding pens. Once there, she swept down and knocked over the closest herd beast, tearing into it with remarkable force. Greens typically didn’t blood - their flights weren’t long enough to bother - but Calistoth wasn’t a normal green. She liked the sensation of flesh breaking beneath her powerful claws, she liked the metallic taste of blood promising her a slightly longer than average flight. She was violent.

And soon she would be queen of the skies…

[Rei]

Kaaoloth was intent, the reason for his nervous anticipation was apparent. Calistoth would rise today. The brown knew without a doubt she would, and Sel’n had already resigned himself to the fact. As Calistoth awoke, a low croon escaped the brown. She was silent, stunning, violent, and he loved it. Opening his wings he leapt off the ledge without so much as a word to his bonded.

Sel’n didn’t need words. He knew what was happening and without even a sound he moved off the bed and started for the flight rooms at a fast clip. The level of desire Kaaoloth was siphoning onto him was intense. The brown wanted this green. This level of desire was only shown when he chased queens, but to Kaaoloth, Calistoth was a queen. Banking sharply and folding his wings the tri-pod brown dropped like a stone onto a heardbeast and crooned to Calistoth, the noise adoring, caressing.

Grabbing the beasts neck he sucked greedily, keeping his whirling purple eyes on her at all times. Her flights where notorious for their violent nature and Kaaoloth liked violent females. They excited him beyond words. Flaring his wings he let the drained beast drop and struck another with his tail breaking the beast’s legs. Pouncing on it, he drained it in much the same fashion. Growling low in his throat he raised his head and flicked his tongue out to capture the small rivulets of blood that dripped from his maw. As the rain splattered against his scared hide, he crooned low the sound lusty and caressing. Fly… soon she would fly.

Sel’n stumbled into the flight rooms before he let Kaaoloth’s lust overwhelm him. The Weyrlingmaster had never fought his dragon. Never felt the need to. They where one as they where meant to be and it wasn’t K’lir he was seeing now but Calistoth. Magnificent in her violent glory. Sel’n/Kaaoloth crooned and stepped forward a few feet still keeping a respectable distance form Calistoth/K’lir. The brown wasn’t stupid. Calistoth was violent and if he provoked her she would strike. Part of him actually wanted her to….but not yet.

[nightingale]

Cherilith? Saeo felt herself tremble as the shoulder she had been leaning against suddenly tensed beneath her. The bluepair had been watching the storm from the short tunnel that separated the weyrledge from the interior of their living space for much of the afternoon. Their minds were in different places as the waves of thunder broke over them, but they were joined by a common fixation.
Is Calistoth rising?

A brilliant green smear sliced through the frothing air before them, arcing toward the feeding grounds and removing any lingering doubts she might have had. Yes. Came her blue’s reply, soft and distant. The girl whimpered quietly, pressing her face against his rain-spattered hide before shoving herself upright in a short and forceful movement.

She was ready for this. In fact, both the rider and her dragon had been ready since the early morning when one of Cherilith’s fly-by visits had provided him with a glimpse of the green’s sleeping form. Both were freshly bathed, the former dressed in a simple tunic-and-hose ensemble, the later oiled to a glistening finish that brought out his faint striping in the most flattering way possible. Her family had been asked to keep away from the weyrs. They had a plan of action established and practiced.
They could do this.

Cherilith rose to his feet slowly, cobalt eyes fixated on the point of light he knew to be the most desirable treasure in the world. Go now my Saeo. I will count to ten. The girl nodded, wordless and breathless, then took off at a dead run for the flight rooms. The corridors were empty, which she deemed fortunate. If she collided with someone now, she would just need to keep going and hope no harm had been done. At three she was fast approaching the staircase. By seven she had cleared two floors. At nine Saeo stopped. She had reached the flight rooms, and through the haze of her dragon’s lust she recognized the greenrider who occupied the centre of the room as K'lir. She took a deep and shuddering breath, shaking her head back and forth ever so slightly. “I hate you...you’re so lucky you’re pretty.” Ten. Ready or not, here I come…

Whimpering quietly, the bluerider sank to her knees and focused her attention on not loosing herself in the thrill of icy wind beneath her wings.

Cherilith was silent as he curved through the air toward the feeding grounds, desire filling the few places within him that were not occupied by Calistoth’s presence. She was so beautiful! So strong! So positively glorious! Here was the dragoness that even the skies called out for! Oh how he wished to be the sky, if only to say that it was she who owned him!

He made his landing just beyond the feeding grounds, away from the panicked herdbeasts but still near enough to listen as their bones cracked. He felt a small pulse of contempt ripple through him as he spotted Kaaoloth blooding alongside his green. What kind of pretentious weyrling did he imagine himself, blooding as if he were a queen? The blue snorted quietly, allowing his whirling violet eyes to drift back to Calistoth. He would catch her, and he was strong enough to do it without the blood of herdbeasts to warm him. The liquid fire she send pulsing through his veins would warm him well enough.

[Avu]

Stupid had been conspicuous by his absence that day, and even after T’rid had tried to track down the brown Salamandyr, bribed him with food, and asked Corinth to pinpoint his location around the Weyr, he had been unsuccessful. He had also been unsuccessful in drawing a direct answer from Corinth – whether or not he, the bronze, planned to Chase Calistoth. Last time, Corinth had, but T’rid was quite sure that had been more revenge on him than actual desire for the green. Unfortunately, Corinth had proved adept at answering without actually answering, and, therefore, in a rather foul mood and wondering exactly where Stupid was and what he planned to do, T’rid had flopped on top of his bed, flat on his stomach with his chin propped against his hands, rather early on in the morning. As time drew on, his position hadn’t changed in the least – save for the fact that Conspiracy had eventually fallen asleep curled up on the small of his back, and he was asleep.

Corinth was not asleep, though, the bronze watching both the sky and Calistoth’s glowing form. Whatever he’d teased His with, he felt no desire to Chase the green – the only reason he was keeping an eye on Calistoth was for Stupid. He figured that if the brown Salamandyr was so determined to Chase, he might as well give him something of a warning when the green started to wake, since Stupid, who had taken up residence in the Main Hall, which was a more central location than T’rid’s weyr was, was more likely than not going to be unable to see the green. The weather, however, worried him. It wasn’t Stupid he was worried about; the brown would be lucky to get into the air, never mind actually fly or glide, but the lightning was not at all appealing. His eyes whirled rapidly as Corinth leaned forward, catching the flick of the green’s tail –

And then her eyes opened.

Stupid, the bronze commented quietly, resettling himself on the weyrledge and squirming slightly in the rain – rather ironically, he liked the wetness – Calistoth has woken, and she already has a Chaser. You may wish to hurry. Yes, it amused him that the brown Chased dragons – but it was only a matter of time before, out of frustration, he had to Chase a firelizard or Salamandyr – he couldn’t possibly do nothing but Chase green dragons all his life…I think you should tell her that you think she is better than any gold, Corinth added, angling his head to rest his chin on the cool stone of the weyrledge and watching Calistoth. And also tell her that you’re stronger than you look and can carry her…she is at the Feeding Pens.

Of course, by the time Stupid made it to the Feeding Pens, running as fast as he could, Cherilith, too, had arrived, and Stupid frilled at both Kaaoloth and Cherilith, hopping agitatedly up the fence post and displaying widely there for Calistoth – see? He was big and pretty and she was pretty too! And – and – and why was Kaaoloth blooding…? Didn’t he know only greens could blood…? (Queens weren’t allowed. Bad queens. And no, neither were bronzes, because they only blooded for queens and, therefore, they were bad.) Stupid, he informed Kaaoloth haughtily, and then hopped up and down excitedly on the post, crooning as loudly as he could to Calistoth. ’listoth, ‘lis, better’n goldeds, better’n best, he proclaimed, writhing in delighted anticipation. Stupid here, issa here, issa carry pretty bestest!

“You know, I hate you very much,” T’rid observed, quietly, as his eyes widened and focused on Corinth, who was looking down and over the weyrledge, obviously surveying the Flight below. “A lot. Shardit…” The bronze rumbled quietly as Conspiracy uncurled, yawning, and peeped abruptly, startled by Corinth addressing him. As the firelizard slid off of His onto the furs, he turned a wide-eyed gaze onto T’rid as the bronzerider pushed himself up with his right arm, lust that was most determinedly not his own rushing through his body – for Calistoth. K’lir. He groaned through his teeth, and then sat up, closing his eyes and repressing the need, wrestling it down, before he glanced at Corinth again, the bronze staring straight back at him.

You should probably get to the Flight Rooms, Corinth said softly, his tone inflectionless. At least most people around there know that they may get Flown.

“Am…not…going…!”

Very well then…I’ll count down the seconds until you change your mind.

[Kisha-Ra]

It was more than the rising storm that put R’aro on edge, Idith was acting strangely again. In patterns that R’aro had come to know meant the bronze was interested in some Rising female. Oddly for his normal holder-ish attitude to casual sex, R’aro had just come to accepted that Idith would chase when he wanted to, there wasn’t anything R’aro could say or do that would stop the dragon doing as he pleased anyway. He just wished whichever green it was would get on with it; Idith’s tension was really putting him on edge.

Idith waited silently on his ledge, still but for the flicking of his tail betraying his inner tension. There was nothing more to do but wait for her to Fly, Idith was fed, bathed, rested and waiting for her but even at this early stage the object of his desire totally ruled the game. Anyone who thought of bronzes as kings would be amused at how a little green could rule them without any effort on her part.

Finally, Calistoth woke and stretched her bright form out for all to see. Idith was one his feet and ready to spring after her instantly, no one seeing him move would ever believe the big bronze was clumsy on the ground. The bronze was airborne scant seconds after the glowing green but something held him back, the chase had no yet begun.

R’aro’s breath caught as Idith sprang off the ledge, the onslaught of his bronze’s emotions never failed to shock him on the occasions that the bronze chose to chase, but he was still acting strangely. Whatever was going on R’aro felt a great deal like he’d been granted a temporary stay of execution. He fled his weyr for the flight rooms at speed.

Idith settled a short way off from the feeding pens, he was no silly little salamandyr to need to leap up and down and draw attention to himself, and he had fed early enough that he was energised but no longer full. He was content just to wait and watch Calistoth, admiring her deadly beauty.

[glamourie]

Her claws tore into the belly of the beast, rendering the flesh to shreds. She was careful; she kept her claws hidden, immersed in the meat and the ground. They were the only flaw to her electric green beauty and she wasn’t about to have them mar her and make her look anything less than the perfection she was. Her muzzle dropped low and she moved to rip into the meat, then stopped herself. Hers did not need to tell her only to blood; instinct kept her from eating the fleshy meat, with the understanding that it would weigh her down and make her flight shorter. She was not some silly green to be scoffed at, she was barely a green at all and her flight would be worth remembering. Her eyes whirled viciously, and she lapped the blood up with a vigor that could have been perceived as alarming. Certainly it was anything but gentle. Her tail made flirtatious loops behind her, a show for those she knew had arrived; she didn’t need to turn, she could feel their eyes on her, and it sent a thrill down her spine that was heightened by each crash of thunder high above. Ominous. Exciting.

The warm, coppery taste on her tongue only began to satisfy her. Throwing aside the body she was through with, Calistoth sprung forward onto one of the smaller herd beasts and dragged it to the ground, turning it around so that she could evaluate. Once again she tore through its body and leaned down to lap - but her eyes, whirling shades of violet and scarlet all at once, were all for the males. Her tail twisted around next to her and she watched Kaaoloth at first, as he moved to feed in the same manner as she did. Her look was skeptical and curious, but not disapproving; merely… thoughtful. Above, another fresh blast of lightning illuminated the sky, and Calistoth flicked her wings lightly in response. She was the lightning. She was the illumination. She did not feel threatened; she felt highlighted, energized -- and she hoped her dear blooding brown could keep up with her. She was, after all, the best.

A snort caught her attention through the rain and Calistoth turned to notice Cherilith. He was one that she remembered, and that recognition swirled through her eyes and brought her to flick her tail flirtatiously toward him. Her fondness for blues was renowned and she made no effort to disguise that attraction. But blue or not, he’d have to prove himself and Cherilith was just a hatchling. Unless he was spectacular he would find himself crashing into trees or worse -- Calistoth would not be merciful on him just because he was pleasant and had potential, nor would she be kind solely for his age. If he wanted to Chase the likes of her, he would have to keep up, and that meant flying on his own wings. She would make sure he earned the right to her attention and worked to hold it - otherwise he wasn’t worthy of her at all!

“I hate you… you’re so lucky you’re pretty.”

The words stirred K’lir from his internal sulking and he rolled over onto his side in the furs, his legs half pulled up, arms sprawled out next to him. A cascade of blood red fell over his face, highlighting his amber eyes and he stared straight at Saeo with an intensity that was only half him. The other half was Calistoth and it was critical beyond words. ‘Pretty’ she’d called him… and lucky. K’lir was tempted to laugh in her face; he refrained. The look on his face could be described almost as pure lust, though -- run off from Calistoth to be sure, but nevertheless unusual. Typically when he looked at Saeo, it was with contempt. K’lir wasn’t a friendly individual, not by a long shot. One hand curled in the blanket, and then he rolled over, stretching out in a remarkable imitation of a cat - or perhaps a green dragon about to Rise would be a more accurate comparison.

“You’re so lucky Cherilith is a blue,” K’lir replied with a sugary tone that was all him. He barely seemed to register Sel’n’s presence - likely because Saeo had distracted him most effectively. He’d notice the brown rider soon enough - but she was the main source of his attention… for now. “Or he wouldn’t even have a chance.” That also wasn’t true -- but it was close to it; weyrlings were not typically built for Calistoth’s flights. She was vicious and took excessive pride in that fact.

A voice through her mind made Calistoth cock her head to the side and she took another long lick of the blood flowing freely from the herd beast’s neck before flaring her wings. The salamandyr posturing for her had her full attention and several confused shades whirled in her gaze. She knew salamandyrs - they were positively wretched and liked to climb on her in the most inconvenient of places, insulting her all the while. But this one - this one was complimenting her. For reasons she did not understand, this salamandyr had sense. He recognized her glory. That made him better than the wicked red thing that she begrudgingly shared her LirLove with. Had he said she was better than a gold? Calistoth flicked her tail defiantly and rumbled, deep in her throat; it was a far more playful and flirtatious sound than she usually offered, but then, she did not typically have her radiance recognized by such a small creature. He was almost cute -- for one of the worms.

Correct. I am better than any Gold.

Those words were projected not just to Stupid, but to all of her Chasers… most especially the newly arrived bronze. Her head swiveled around and her eyes whirled dangerously. Bronzes. He would have to prove himself if he was going to Chase her. She was the best.

Her rumbling quickly transformed to a far more predatory sound. It started as a growl and rose in her chest before exploding out of her in the form of a loud bugle of challenge echoing through the canyon amidst the storm. Long wings flared and Calistoth beat them before launching herself into the air with speed only a green could accomplish. She ascended rapidly without so much as a second glance in the direction of her Chasers. Her eyes were on the sky. She was the lightning, she was the luminescence beyond the storm, and if they wanted a piece of her, they’d have to defeat the elements.

Let the fight begin.

[Rei]

Kaaoloth licked the remainder of blood off his muzzle and a low humming growl started in his throat. The brown watched Calistoth with whiling purple eyes. The lightening highlighted her electric green frame perfectly but even when the blinding light dissipated she kept the feeding grounds illuminated with the electric glow from her bright hide. He swayed as she examined her chasers. Two besides him and one a weyrling blue.

Cherilith was not even recognized as competition. The young blue could not hope to keep up. The young bronze was recognized as his only competitor for the sky empress. If Kaaoloth remembered correctly Idith had competed with him in Millieth’s flight and the young bronze failed to impress him. Stupid was completely and utterly ignored. Silly creature had no place in a chase such as this. He should stick to his own kind.

Calistoth words sent a shiver of anticipation down Kaaoloth’s spine and he rumbled in agreement, the sound soft and commanding. Of course she was better! Anyone with eyes could see she was not a queen but an empress far more regal and demanding. He lashed his tail across the feeding grounds as she fared her wings, sending a wave of bloody mud coursing towards the blue weyrling. Was the movement intentional? Likely. Kaaoloth intended to win this empress and although he did not consider the blue a threat his bright oiled hide was handsome. Perhaps not anymore. Although the rain would quickly wash the blue clean Kaaoloth had made his point. His green.

Suddenly, with a commanding bugle, his sky empress was aloft. Roaring his own challenge Kaaoloth sprung after her, his large wings fighting against the storm he rose to meet. Clever his empress was. He and Idith would have a harder time fighting the winds with larger wings. They would have to be clever to keep themselves intact. A croon of appreciation came from the large brown as he soared after her, keeping distance between them as he guided himself through the storm. Kaaoloth was careful to keep Calistoth in sight but much of his attention had to go to keeping himself from being blown off course.

Sel'n/Kaaoloth shifted and crooned. Why was that weyrling blue capturing so much of the empress's attention? Crooning thoughtfully he tensed as he waited for the real flight to begin.

[nightingale]

Cherilith could feel Idith’s presence as the bronze touched down, but he resisted the urge to look back and confirm his size. The other males were not important -certainly not more important than Calistoth- and though his stomach fluttered nervously he was determined to assure her that in his mind, she was without equal. A startled chip escaped him as a cold spattering of rain, earth and blood struck his hide. He turned toward Kaaoloth, his expressive features set into a scowl that was only highlighted by the band of scarlet that danced across his eyes. Who exactly is the weyrling here?

Saeo was feeling less than inclined toward listening to K’lir taunt her when she was trying her level best to keep from losing herself completely to dragonlust. It was as if two images were being superimposed atop one another, and if she let her eyes linger on anything for more than an instant than Calistoth was there, gleaming and demanding her attention. And she wanted…she wanted...no, no that was Cherilith. Cherilith wanted her. She wanted…the girl turned her eyes K’lir, fixing him with an intense stare.
She wanted him.

The young blue's attention fell from the older brown as Calistoth spoke. Her words drew a lusty and adoring croon from his throat, and his searing, primal want of her only increased as her voice sped into a growl. But high she shoots through air and light, Above all low delay. The blue projected, his voice soft and reverent as he gathered his muscles beneath him and shot after her. Where nothing earthly bounds her flight, Nor shadow dims her way. It was true that this was his first flight. It was true that he was young, but that did not keep Cherilith from chasing after her with all the speed and grace his body had been designed for.

The poetry? A direct result of having spent too much time around Baby.

He knew nothing of the violence that Calistoth was so famous for, and perhaps it was for that reason that he flew so close beside her. His instincts warned him against crowding her and so the buffer zone he maintained was generous, but it was no larger than the space would put between himself and any other green. He added not inch to allow for a quick escape should he need to make one. Whether or not he was ignorant or simply fearless remained to be seen.

[Avu]

Stupid didn’t notice Calistoth’s confusion – or, rather, if he did, he misinterpreted it. Surely she wasn’t confused because of him; didn’t she know that he’d be there? It was no spur-of-the-moment Chase for Stupid, no; he had it all planned out – right down to the last minute before Calistoth actually Rose, the planning which had gotten him this far without being locked in a box. The brown crooned loudly, the sound whipped away by a particularly vicious wind that very nearly threw the Salamandyr clear off of his post in the same breath; claws dug into the wood, clinging tightly, wings flaring in a hungry anticipation. His eyes whirled faster, brilliant violets mixing with blues and greens, as she spoke. The delight of having her address him was marred by the fact that it had been a general comment to all of her Chasers – but in any case, she had recognized him and he was the best, wasn’t he?!

The bronze’s arrival had Stupid jumping up and spinning around on his post to hiss defiance at him – bronzes were nothing. He had a pet bronze; he was better…the Salamandyr frilled at Idith, not the proud, hopeful display he’d offered Calistoth but a very distinctly challenging one. Silly, silly bronze; didn’t they have queens to Chase…? His tail flicked in agitation, but the start of a growl in Calistoth’s throat made him whip back to face her, inching closer till he was teetering on the edge of his pole, wings flapping against the wind even as his claws dug deeper into the wood to keep him from somersaulting off of it before he was ready; her bugle was returned in the form a shriek, quicker than an echo.

Pretty better!

The proclamation was hardly coherent in the brown’s excitement, and he braced himself on the wood and launched himself off of it, wings spread open as if to fly. Had he landed, he would have gone tumbling – as it was, by sheer luck, wind – whether it was from Kaaoloth and Cherilith, or simply a natural gust, Stupid didn’t know or care – caught his wings and frill, which was fully extended, and the Salamandyr was momentarily suspended in air. Wings flapped, and Stupid twisted, his entire body writhing in an attempt to gain altitude – and then the wind died down again. To do the Salamandyr credit, it was a more controlled fall than simply a drop; he soared forward and down simultaneously, legs churning comically mid-air, and then hit the ground at a run, each jarring pace throwing him forward. His wings were still fully extended, though his frill had been slicked back against his body as he threw his head up to follow Calistoth with his eyes.

Pretty better, bestest~ The croon was audible only to himself, but the pure adoration in his words were clear – and if Calistoth had been looking down, the determination with which the Salamandyr tumbled and tripped over the landscape made it very, very clear that he fully intended to stay in her Flight till the very end. Launching himself in leaps across the ground, Stupid crooned, louder still, in a useless attempt at being seen and spotted; he twisted rapidly around another wooden post and then, abruptly, climbed up it, claws ripping splinters of wood away in his urgency before he flung himself off of the top again, wings beating to fly – he hit the ground, rolled, and kept going. Nobody but him would Catch Calistoth!


Did Calistoth really have to be so pretty? T’rid clenched his teeth together, focusing on inhaling and exhaling steadily; he blinked rapidly to make the flickering image of lighting – rain-slicked grass – bobbing horizon – and bright, glowing green wings – disappear; why wouldn’t it go away…? He was dizzy; he couldn’t see; the bronzerider doubled over to press his forehead against the cool wood that made the headboard of his cot. Was it anyone but K’lir, he might have gone – might – and at the moment, he was on the verge of breaking anyway. Stupid was taking over, his consciousness dimming out everything else; the disjointed thoughts that swirled around his mind focused primarily around Calistoth –

You’re going to hurt yourself if you resist. The voice was alarmed, and for a moment, T’rid blinked, struggling to place it, before – Corinth. He seized onto the bronze’s mind mentally, his body physically stiffening with the effort of pushing away Stupid’s lust. Go! Just go – go or you’ll hurt yourself – you /will/. The bronzerider was positively trembling – a mixture of a delighted glory, determination, and a very clear euphoria – none of which were his own emotions – along with his own struggles to keep himself as he was. You’ll hurt /him/, Corinth said softly and then the bronze pulled away from him mentally with one last touch. Go.

[Kisha-Ra]

Idith’s wings twitched open a little in anticipation as Calistoth’s tail looped and writhed in complex patterns. She was like the storm in fury, wild, vicious, elemental, and totally without mercy. But could there be anything more beautiful in its ferocity? The bronze studied the glowing green as thunder rolled overhead, surely there wasn’t. Even the blood of the beasts matched the red tones that sparkled in her eyes. Her muzzle rose and her wings flared making Idith tense. But her head turned to the little brown salamandyr. Surely that little thing didn’t think he could chase and win such a glorious female as Calistoth.

Correct. I am better than any Gold.

Her eyes whirled dangerous shades as she looked sideways at the bronze, but Idith was so thrilled to have the green look his way that he didn’t notice the warning, or rather, he saw it as a challenge. His tail lashed once, thumping heavily against the ground as his eyes, too, picked up a hint of red. He would show her that bronzes were the best mates for any female, he would match her untamed glory and surpass it! He was the best male for her!

But to prove that he had to chase her, to court her in the skies and win. And he would, oh he would. Idith’s admiring croon blended with Calistoth’s low growl. She burst in the air, a bright green streak of lighting in the storm and Idith roared and went after her. Taking up the challenge, come what may.

R’aro ran as if Thread fell just behind him, trying to run from Idith’s desire as much as attempting to get to the flight room before he totally lost control to Idith. He was breathing hard, a combination of fear, exertion, and secondhand lust, before he even skidded into the room. His eyes snapped to K’lir, not registering the physical form of a human at all. He saw only his wild, beautiful, terrible green. Oh he’d show her, once he won her. Yes indeed.

[glamourie]

She flared her wings and rose at a steep ascent, without so much as a second glance to her Chasers. She wanted the clouds, swirling and black-toned, high above; she would be a part of them, fast and graceful, a streak of fire through the sky -- as beautiful and every bit as dangerous. Her rise was near perfectly vertical. The violet hues of her eyes surged into shades of red, mingling together in time and she growled to herself; amidst the rain and wind, it would be nearly impossible to hear her, and that was all right -- she didn’t need them to hear her. She didn’t even need for them to see her. Calistoth was not considerate in her Flights; she never had been and she never would be. She was the best - the best green to ever hatch, and that meant fighting for the right to keep up with her superior speed and grace. If they were even slightly competent, her glowing hide would remain visible to them, and if they lost track of her, they didn’t deserve to chase her. As it was, she didn’t believe any of them deserved to catch her anyway. She was just hoping to pick the Chaser who was the least disgraceful, and by the time she was gone, every single one of them would be picking up the shards of their egos from the ground. She guaranteed it.

As she reached the clouds, Calistoth turned sharply on her tail and barrel-rolled through the clouds. Rain slung through the air, splattering off her rapidly turning form to create a spray of water all around her. Her rapid turning propelled her forward like the lightning she so resembled, and when she came out of it, her wings flared only for a moment before she angled herself to dart up and down in waves through the clouds. They were her shelter, her camouflage; so thick was the coverage that seeing five feet in front of her was nearly impossible, but she was unafraid. This was her flight. Bring on the rain! She would dance with it through the clouds. Each wing beat took her further away from the Weyr and higher up -- higher, faster, stronger. Only the bravest and strongest would keep up with her in her ballet of destruction, with the ground not even visible through the thick clouds around her…

An odd noise made K’lir roll back over, onto his hands-and-knees. He was only half-aware of the bizarre position that he was in as he crawled across the furs to look at Sel’n. The Weyrlingmaster -- yes, the brown looked to him, didn’t he? Big brown; queen-chaser -- but he was no queen. He was better. The thought was almost entirely Calistoth and came with such a force that it made his mind whirl. He didn’t speak to Sel’n, though. Instead, he moved to crouch, ready to spring forward, the pads of his fingers resting on the bed top as if to run at any moment. The urge to move was almost overwhelming - except he already was flying, but he was sitting still. Staying K’lir was becoming a rapidly difficult task, particularly when he dared a glance toward Saeo. That look… was not her. It made his breath catch and he edged backwards, eyes narrowing slightly. The predatory gleam in those amber orbs was nothing like K’lir -- he was playful, like a cub. He wasn’t deadly. But his mindmate was and her personality was bleeding over onto him. He wanted to run his nails over flesh, see if they bled as prettily as the herd beasts had. Maybe if they did, he’d lick them too --

Especially his pretty, pretty bronze. Didn’t they ever learn--

So often bronzes chased her, but none had ever proved themselves capable of keeping up with her. Calistoth glanced back over her shoulder and rumbled quietly. If that one wanted to try, though, she certainly wouldn’t fault him - he obviously had eyes in his head, if he was able to recognize her glory! Just like the salamandyr. Was he even able to keep up? Hnnn -- through the clouds she would never be able to see, and she had no idea how well the little nuisances could fly anyway. Her red monster could fly decently but he was one of the bronze menaces, not a brown. Brown was better anyway. If he’d dropped out - she didn’t care all that much. It wasn’t as if the little monster could actually be worthy of her, even if he was obviously the most intelligent salamandyr to ever hatch. Her eyes surged more violet, and she turned to look over her wing as speaking went through her mind.

Pet peeve of hers during flights: Talking. Thoth had done it, and he got away with it because he was her favorite… but Thoth was gone. That thought sent a wave of hurt through her. Thoth wasn’t Chasing her because Thoth was gone forever; he could never Chase her again. They had taken her Thoth from her, and some day she would dig her claws into each and every one of them for their audacity. A whirl of pain - not physical in the least - passed through Calistoth’s gaze before she called out in half-rage, half-challenge. Fine then! Thoth was gone - she’d accept that. She’d never find another blue like her Thoth, but if this young one wanted to try -- she’d give him a chance to try. But he was not going to get the same courtesy her favored blue had. No talking!

I care not for how eloquent you are! she replied fiercely- projecting the message to all of her Chasers, rather than just Cherilith. Show me you’re worthy of my acknowledgment in the air - not with your words! I will not be won by pretty sonnets!

To prove her point, Calistoth abruptly turned on her wingtip and then spiraled downward toward the ground again at an angle so sharp as to be dangerous. She was zooming rapidly toward a clearing - her speed had pushed her further and further from the Weyr so that she had come out on the other side of the jungle, and Calistoth did not seem to care. Each wing beat sprayed more and more water around her. Not a single glance was spared behind her as she propelled herself forward. It was exhausting to fly in the turbulent wind, but she didn’t care. She did not care. She was going to prove to them all who the best green on Pern was… she would make her first Flight since Thoth’s death the absolute best to ever occur on Pern.

She owed it to him.

[Avu]

His neck hurt, and every second, Stupid fully expected to run full-force into a tree. Indeed, not running smack into a tree would have been an accomplishment, for his full attention was focused on the green in the air – and, therefore, not on the ground in front of him. The result? He was tripping, falling – somersaulting – in his attempts to catch up; each leap had the potential to break his leg or catch his wingtip on something, but it had been proved that very little could stop Stupid in a greenflight. This was, in all actuality, the first greenflight in which he had actually had to run; the previous ones the greens had given him a ride and he’d accepted it – but this was better, right? Right! Or so he told himself as he flared his wings, flapping them as hard as he could as he stared hard into the thick clouds, diving from one side to another. The one good thing about looking up was that he could avoid the raindrops – very big raindrops, they were, and Stupid was small enough to be sent tail over frill if one of them caught him mid-leap.

The Salamandyr peeped quietly to himself as Calistoth moved into the clouds themselves, anxiety that was not entirely his but Corinth’s flickering through the brown as he paused, rearing onto his hind legs, beady eyes focused determinedly on the sky above as he blinked rapidly – and then literally threw himself sideways to avoid a fat raindrop that caught the tip of his tail as the Salamandyr slipped on the muddy ground, his momentum spinning him around, his eyes rolling in an attempt to keep focused on Calistoth – what if she got lightning-struck? He would have to eat the lightning for being mean, he would, and he did not think he could get up that high to eat it anyway. Or…or maybe he could get Corinth to eat it for him. That sounded like a much, much better idea. The Salamandyr darted forward nervously, and then hopped in agitation as he tried to follow Calistoth as exactly as he could on the ground, every small hill used in an attempt to fly –

A feat he simply could not achieve when the winds were buffeting him every which way.

The brown’s claws dug into the dirt as he spun again, whimpering in frustration; everything looked wrong so high up, and it was dark and the rain was slicking his hide and paws – and – he would endure. Spinning and flicking his tail agitatedly against the mud, Stupid abruptly froze as Calistoth spoke, broadcasting the words for all to hear – and her words made Stupid positively quiver in anxiety. In the air. He couldn’t – he’d tried – how could he – he had to fly. His gaze snagged on a tree nearby, a sapling just barely keeping itself upright in the vicious wind, and the Salamandyr darted for it, claws scrabbling against bark until he’d pulled himself to the very top – a position which, he realized too late, was very, very dangerous; the tree was whipping around in the gale, and for a moment Stupid clung, nothing more than a wet, cold, and miserable Salamandyr – before he caught sight of Calistoth again and shrieked. He would win!

Just as he launched himself up, a gust caught his wide frill and wings, and he was caught by the wind, not truly flying but a passenger at the mercies of the elements; his wings were wide, straining, flapping, the Salamandyr trilling urgently; here he was! Here! His paws churned at the air, as much as to run ten feet above the ground as the wind whirled him around – and then sent him into a tumble back towards the ground again just as the green dove; Stupid trilled as loudly as he could – and a branch flashed before him and the Salamandyr latched onto it instinctively, claws ripping at the bark as he clung, curling his tail tightly around the twig as rain dripped from the trees. Where was he? The edges of the jungle. The brown squeaked in surprise, eyes whirling rapidly, and then he dropped to the ground, running after Calistoth again. Nothing was going to stop him.


T’rid was not typically a clingy person. He just wasn’t; to cling to anybody was a very abrupt, very obvious loss of dignity, and he didn’t like that – but as soon as he felt Corinth mentally pulling away, he clung to the bronze, in a purely instinctive, desperate measure that he had very rarely been pushed to before, barely managing to choke out the words: “Don’t…don’t let me…don’t…” The speaking – the vocal motions – helped, a little, to separate his mind from Stupid’s, but by now the lust was becoming a need, a desire that could only possibly be solved in one way. Corinth crooned urgently, the noise almost lost in the haze surrounding T’rid’s mind as the bronze flicked his tail agitatedly, but he reached out to nuzzle His anyway, the gesture definitely affectionate. T’rid clutched at Corinth’s head, pressing his forehead against the bronze’s nose, and exhaled slowly, eyes still closed.

Whirling – spinning – chaos – lightning and lust and green wings – a jungle –

Nothing made sense anymore. Nothing. Stupid was going to hurt himself and he didn’t know how to prevent it – didn’t want to loose himself to the Salamandyr because he would do something stupid and it because it was K’lir. Corinth’s rumble was definitely agitated now. Mine, /go/. He nudged T’rid in the chest, emphatically. If you don’t go you’ll hurt someone – you’ll hurt yourself and Stupid will get hurt – try to guide him, don’t let him hurt himself! Conspiracy’s agitated twittering should have been very audible, but it was barely anything, simply background noise, fuzzy – he could only hear the dripping of water, Calistoth’s bugling –

“Don’t let me – don’t,” he breathed, only vaguely aware of saying the words as he curled tighter around Corinth’s muzzle. “I’ll fall…”

[nightingale]

A soft warble trickled from Cherilith’s throat. He had offended her? Oh, but he had thought…but he was mistaken. Between the two of them it could not be Calistoth that was wrong. She was the sky, and the rain and the ribbons of lightning that decorated it like a vast and raging gift to the world below. Such magnificence could never be wrong…he only hoped she would forgive him his ignorance.

The blue followed closely as she plunged toward the ground. His turns were a little wider, a little less graceful and much slower. He almost like a slick blue leaf caught in the wind her wings were generating. This he did on purpose. He knew that the ground would begin where this dive ended, and sharp turns had never been his calling. He was far more drag racer than drifter, and if he tried to deny that he would only hurt himself.

Cherilith’s eyes glowed violet beneath their transparent lids as he watched the green before him. He welcomed the numbing sensation of cold rain breaking against his hide, feeling Calistoth’s passion and strength in every drop. He longed to express the pleasure he received from her every wingbeat, in seeing how every raindrop flew from her hide like a precious stone…but it was wrong to tell her such things. Instead he chirruped his adore, twisting his body into a neat pirouette as the clearing rose up beneath them.

Saeo only just resisted the urge to get up and twirl as the sky began to spin before her. “No. Stay.” She growled, hugging herself tightly as she dropped her eyes from K’lir and tried to become very interested in the wooden floor. She wasn’t a blue and K’lir wasn’t a green…not a green…better than a green…no. No that was wrong. GreenRIDER…but then, she was a bluerider…so… so that made things just peachy keen, didn’t it?

She looked up at him again, her stormy eyes whirling with confusion and desire as she realized that he was watching her. Somewhere in the back of her mind, Saeo knew that something was wrong...but it couldn’t be important. If it was important, wouldn’t she be able to remember it? A soft sound that was almost certainly a whimper slid from the girl’s lips, but she said nothing. It was wrong to speak, and the last thing she wanted to do was offend him.

[Rei]

Kaaoloth followed Calistoth’s vertical climb well enough, his wings taking a beating from the fierce winds. It was exhilarating. Not only did he have to battle his competitors for the empress he had to battle the storm as well. He kept behind and to the left of Cherilith his bulk didn’t afford him he grace of the blue but he had plenty of endurance to outlast the weyrling. Besides he could follow in the blue’s slip stream and that made it easier for the brown.

When Calistoth broke into the clouds, Kaaoloth surged past Cherilith. The winds where not as strong up here and he cavorted through the clouds as she. The brown banked sharply and rolled, before diving completely in and out of the static charged atmosphere. He gave a sharp bugle as Calistoth surged upwards fighting the storm itself. His empress was the mistress of the storm and she flaunted that fact perfectly.

Sel’n/Kaaoloth tensed as K’lir/Calistoth crawled towards him. A low lusty purr sounded in the man’s throat but his body was tense as he waited. Would she strike at him? Did he dare hope she would mark him with her perfect claws? He resisted the urge to step forward, instead caressing her with his eyes. Empress Calistoth. Who would she mark first?

Kaaoloth bristled at Calistoth’s words. They where not for him. He knew that, but he still felt scolded. Which chaser it was that displeased her was not apparent, but the brown was banking on it being the bronze. As his Empress dove Kaaoloth followed heedlessly. Snapping his wings close to his body he fell with a bugle of challenge to the storm. Opening his wings slightly, to control his angle and trajectory, he opened them fully again to follow her downward descent at a speed he could control.

[Kisha-Ra]

R’aro made a sound that fell somewhere between a growl and a whimper. He leaned toward his green but didn’t move. Oh how he wanted to leap and claim her with the wild fury she so deserved, but she had to be won first, and why not? She deserved a mate who was her equal, or at least her near rival, on every plane. He, along with his competitors, must be tested. But it was hard to submit to judgement when she was so fine and fierce a green.

Idith stretched out his neck, yearning to touch, to adore, to worship his wonderfully wild green. The winds fought him, buffeting him, tugging at him, trying to pull him or fling him away from the object of his desire. He wasn’t having any of that! If he must defeat the skies themselves for her or fly to the moons he would, just to prove himself worthy as her mate.

Among the clouds Idith tracked Calistoth by her bright eyes and glowing hide, his body twisted and danced on the wind as she wove her way among the clouds. He thought his cleverness might impress her a little, he could command the wind ands use them on this level, even if it diddn’t make him worthier it made him a little faster. Brought him a little closer to his love.

Talking? Whyever would he wish to waste his time that way? It was deeds that won the day every time, not words! Idith dropped after Calistoth. So brave she was, so very daring! It made him proud to be there and see it. With his greater mass to speed him Idith passed by the other dragons, nut it was only a brief lead on them, he was forced to take control and slow his desent lest he actually hit the ground. He didn’t want that at all!