Tsunami Wing Drills

[marissa]

{Tagging: K’nam, T’rid, Robika, E’nor, D’vin, P’tol, Enpiceeth's, Ehdopteth's, and Aypicyth's. Couldn't help myself.

Thread is coming, A’noanMine. It is time for those drills you scheduled a sevenday ago, so that we can run drills. I will not having the wing that we lead be incompetent because we did not take the steps.[/i] Ermieth had his head raised, angled towards His while his eyes whirled in determination. They didn’t want to see the inept, useless riders that they had for a wing, but now they had no choice, and it was their job to make sure that they could flame some thread when the time came.

A’noan looked up from inspecting the harness with his fingers and eyes, meeting his bronze’s eyes directly. “Fine. Call them – you know that they probably won’t remember.” It wasn’t like he had anything better to do, now that he had made sure the harness was sound. And, like the bronze had reminded him, they didn’t want to go into Thread completely useless. Shrugging, he stood and began to walk towards the weyrledge, where Ermieth was waiting with his leg out. “Tell them to meet us in the Weyrbowl.”

Alright, so they weren’t getting as much credit as they were due, but since when was it in either A’noan’s or his dragon’s nature to compliment people, or even give them the credit of presenting intelligence. It was their job (or so they believed) to think the worst of people, so that they didn’t get their expectations high, and they wouldn’t make the mistake of thinking above the abilities of some lackwits. Anyways, no one was as good as this bronzepair, so there was no use in even believing that others might compare.

Bearinth, Corinth, Hiriarth, Clestioth, Kmarath, Llath, Enpiceeth, Ehdopteth, Aypicyth. Come to the Weyrbowl, as scheduled previously, at this time. Bring Yours, of course. As soon as His mounted, the dragon spread his bronze wings and dropped off the weyrledge, before giving his wings a few flaps and regaining the air. Soon, they were hovering above the ‘Bowl, and moments later, they were on the ground.

Already, in his mind’s eye, were the Wing Formations. Glaring at those who were there, A’noan announced, “Formations. As soon as you are all here, I’ll go ahead and spell them out. In the meantime…” The bronzerider drew his diagram in the nearby sand. Looking around, he saw that at least most of them, if not all of them, were now there.

“Alright. I’ll be on the top level, flanked a little lower by Enpiceeth’s (BLUE NPC) on my right, and Aypicyth’s (GREEN NPC) on my left. A bit lower than that, on Enpiceeth’s right, will be Bearinth’s. On that same level, except on Aypicyth’s left, will be Corinth’s to catch the outer rims of the Fall. Then, a bit below and on Bearinth’s right, will be Clestioth’s, and (on the same level) on Corinth’s left, will be Kmarath’s. Directly below me, a level or two lower than Clestioth and Kmarath, will be Hiriath’s. To flank him, a little lower, will be Ehdopteth’s (other BLUE NPC) on his right, and Llath’s on his left.”

“Got that? Basically, Ermieth and I’ll be getting the center bulk of things. Then Bearinth and Corinth’ll be getting the outer bulk, and Hiriarth’s will be getting the bulk of what I miss. Then Enpiceeth and Aypicyth’ll be swerving around, getting some things that Ermieth and I miss before it falls onto Hiriarth, while Kmarath and Clestioth’ll be doing the same to Corinth and Bearinth. Kmarath, Clestioth, Ehdopteth, and Llath will be the last lines of defense. I’m mainly expecting anything to fall that low to be taken care or by Llath and Ehdopteth, so I’ve got most holes covered. Any questions or objections?” Psh.
[/size]

Wing:

{Those in attendance are in purple}

A'noan of bronze Ermieth
K'nam of bronze Bearinth[/b]
T'rid of bronze Corinth
D'vin of brown Hiriarth
E'nor of blue Clestioth
NPC Bluerider
NPC Bluerider
Robika of green Kmarath
P'tol of green Llath
NPC Greenrider[/center]

[Avu]

((I can’t see the chart. xD))

T’rid sighed, rubbing oil ferociously at the leather as he kicked absently at the chair. His breath and words came in the rhythm of his jerky motions. “Doesn’t—this—Sharding—leather—ever—stop—crack—ing?” He scowled fiercely at the harness in question, which trembled under his hands. “I—hate—this—stupid—thing,” he went on irritably, holding it up to the light and squinting at the leather. “Still a crack!” he went on heatedly, swearing under his breath as he gritted his teeth and went on oiling it. After a while, he held it up again, gave a heartfelt sigh, and slung it over his shoulder. “Hey, Corinth?” He glanced over at the bronze dragon, who was perched broodingly on the ledge of their weyr, squinting down into the Bowl below. “Don’t we have to have some training of sorts? Wings, and stuff.”

Ye-es, said Corinth doubtfully, glancing at his rider. Was it—was it today, are you sure? Now? Almost wistfully, he added, I can’t remember. Which, luckily, was when Ermieth’s voice broke the bronze’s consciousness. Corinth glanced at His, whose forehead was scrunched with the effort of remembering. “Um…” Mine, Ermieth has just spoken. We are to go to the Weyr Bowl immediately. Come, bring the harness. I assume you did oil it well enough? he added shrewdly, eyeing His.

The young Rider turned red. “Of course I did!” Shouldering it dutifully, he moved towards Corinth and hesitated. “Look, nothing’s bothering you, right? You sound…weird.” Corinth stared at him for a minute, snorted, shaking his head, and then offered his foreleg. “You’re impossible.” T’rid vaulted from the bronze’s foreleg to his back. Too late, he paused. “Oh, should’ve I put the harness on first?”

Sounding almost testy, Corinth said, Yes, Mine, I believe that would be very helpful. T’rid glanced in surprise at the bronze, who ruffled his wings and sighed. Sorry. Thread is making me grumpy. The young man grinned, slapping at the hide as he slid back down and proceeded to put on the harness. “At least you admit it. Me, I’m just going to pretend I’ve never heard of Thread before.” His eyes raked the bronze’s harness. “All set, now?” The bronze rumbled approvingly, shifting as T’rid remounted, securing the straps, and then let Corinth take flight, spiraling down to the Weyr Bowl, where he landed a little ways off from Ermieth.

The bronze dipped his head in a signal of respect to the older bronze, rumbling slightly as T’rid dismounted, moving closer to inspect the diagram marked on the ground. It was a nice setup for them, really. While they—he and Corinth—didn’t get speared head-on by Thread, neither did they get to the lowest lines, where nothing ever happened. Doubtful it ever would, too. He understood. Good. Although, he now understood why Wingleaders were paid so much—they always got Threadscored before everyone else did. Now…questions. Did he have a question? No. But could he ask one anyway? Yes.

“’Scuse me, sir, but I was just wondering…supposing we between. For good. Who takes over for us?” He grinned, almost lazily, flicking his hair out of his eyes. How gloomy are you? Corinth murmured, sounding annoyed. Relax, Cor. It’s a question, he won’t eat me alive. Well, he might, but it wasn’t like A’noan hadn’t specifically asked for questions. It was his fault if T’rid had a stupid question.

[missa]

For once, E'nor was actually ready and waiting. Leaning against Clestioth's side as they waited for the call. Clestioth had been looking forward to it since they'd been told about it, and as a result, there was no possible way that E'nor could have forgotten that drills were indeed that day.

Ooooh drill! Did you forget E'norMine? I didn't forget, I've been looking forward to it. Do you think we will do well? I think we'll do well, I'm sure we'll do well actually. Aren't you sure we'll do well? You're nervous aren't you? Silly Mine! You don't-- Clestioth's chatter was broken off as the blue glanced over at E'nor, who had stood to check the straps with an amused glance at his bonded.

"Straps look fine." E'nor murmured fondly, checking them over again before swinging up easily. Clestioth snorted easily, shifting his weight as E'nor settled. He wanted to go now! Drills, and people and other dragons to talk to! Crooning as E'nor chuckled and nodded at him, Clestioth was quick to take off for the weyrbowl.

It sounds easy-- What a sad question. I don't think that would happen, do you Mine? I think we'll be fine, after all, we are the last line of defense apparently. Is that a good thing? I don't want you getting hurt... Maybe we would swap with someone else.
Shh, and wait for the answer.

(Missa can't see it either xD and behold her crappy post XD)

[randi]

((I can't either. Sorry for the uberbad post. ;w; ))

That's not going to hold him, the bronze informed the 'rider, shaking his large head as he peered into the weyr. K'nam was kneeling, scratching Scamp's eyeridge to keep the salamandyr calm. He had tied an old sliced leather strap around Scamp's neck with the other end attached to the leg of the desk. The bright blue blinked innocently up at the 'rider before returning to pawing at the strap the moment K'nam stood up. He knew that Scamp couldn't be trusted to behave during wing drills. It was a simple solution, which was why he fully expected the 'mandyr to be free before he returned. It should, at the very least, slow him down.

Bearinth's head lifted, listening at Ermieth called them. Looking back at His, he rumbled quietly. It's time to go. K'nam mounted, sparing a glance over his shoulder. Good, still tied.

Not long after, they were landing not far from the others, K'nam dismounting, giving a nod of greetings to those present before looking at A'noan. He held no grudge to the other for his not being chosen to be wingleader. It was probably for the best, the other might have gotten offended were the situations switched. A small smile twitched across his lips, his arms crossing as he watched their 'leader, giving a glance to E'nor once their jobs were spelled out. He and Bearinth would do their best to make sure the bluepair had little to worry about.

[marissa]

{By any chance, can you see it now? xP}

[randi]

((Aye, ma'am!))

[Administrator]

((People, people! There is no weyrbowl at Selenitas. If anyone wants to remember how Selenitas is built, go to omgaweyr.proboards79.com/index.cgi?board=waterfall

But Enpiceepth... *DIES* those names officially win the Win Award))

Well, D'vin certainly remembered! He had been looking forward to this, he thought with dark satisfaction. Would A'noan be able to do this all right? He would especially like it if the man got too frustrated and smacked someone. Then he could report the man, another bronzer would become a Wingleader, and maybe he could become wingsecond again. He wasn't power-hungry, but he missed his familiar position. It was the only thing that people recognized him as. Now, he was just a nobody. It frustrated him, because he knew he could handle it, but idiots like A'noan got up front... He sighed. Perhaps if he could aggravate the man enough, he would be able to make him snap. He smirked. Hiriarth grumbled. Just don't do anything stupid, Mine. Even if Ermieth's is stupid, Threadfall /is/ something that needs to be fought. It's something we need to practice for,[/color] the brown told him. D'vin shrugged indifferently as they arrived where the rest of the wing was.

D'vin stared the man down as he arrived, his expression of pure distaste. However, he said nothing, letting the man talk without being interrupted. He didn't like the idea of all the greens being on one side and blues in the other, but he would just hope he would notice that weakness soon enough. He smirked. He would laugh if, during Threadfall, the greens all needed a break at once, and winked between in exhaustion and have no replacements, and leaving one side unguarded. Or, he thought gleefully, if the blues couldn't turn as fast as a green and missed a whole bunch of thread... Yes. Either of those would be perfect. Then he, D'vin, could jump in quickly and rework the wings so that they were instantly perfect, and could work in that Threadfall. Maybe he should even plan ahead so that he would be ready for such an accident. It would be wise to do so, knowing A'noan.

You aren't very nice,[/color] Hiriarth commented boredly. But he wasn't distracted. His would do what His would do. He learned to just live with it, no matter how stupid it was. Pleasantly turning attention to Clestioth, he snorted. Hello, Clestioth![/color] he greeted. Are you excited for practice?[/color]

--

Robika had nearly forgotten. Then again, she had been more forgetful than usual, lately. She couldn't help it. She kept getting distracted. There was Zadari, who she felt that she needed to spoil and pamper like crazy out of guilt. But on the side, she would secretly make a hike up to Aryna's weyr. Then Emanor was ill... She sighed. Life was so hectic. So the wing drill wasn't at the forefront of her mind. She was convinced, however, that everything with her was just dandy. She wasn't cheating on Zadari, per se, and Emanor seemed to be getting better. Her life was quite normal, thank you very much.

Hurriedly pulling some clothes on for the drill, she sprinted madly around her weyr. Emanor growled at her angrily. Irritability was one of the symptoms, she thought sadly. The poor green had already lost a lot of weight, but she didn't foam at the mouth quite so much anymore. That, at least was a blessing. Maybe the extra weight saved her?[/color] Kmarath suggested. Robika chuckled nervously. It was a good idea.

Ordering the flitters to stay in the weyr, Robika climbed up on Kmarath, strapping herself in to get over where their wing was congregating. "Let's hope I'm not too late," she muttered.

I'm sure they will understand,[/color] Kmarath replied kindly. The dragon, unlike her rider, was not stressed in the slightest. In fact, she was very peaceful right now. She was very content with life, and had taken to calming down her rider when it seemed Robika was getting unbearably stressed out. Can I have a bath after this? I really want to get scrubbed![/color] Robika chuckled weakly. A bath would be a good idea-- maybe far downstream, where they could all be alone. Robika, Kmarath, Valentine, and Emanor. It would be some calm before being thrust back into the angry world of society.

Arriving on the scene, she turned a delicate pink at seeing that she was late. Coughing, she muttered an apology before glancing down into the diagram. She was between T'rid and D'vin. Nodding blankly, she hoped this was enough to figure out just what in the name of Faranth she was doing. "Sounds good!" she said, perhaps a bit too brightly. Kmarath rumbled in amusement.

Hello, Corinth! We're near you![/color] she told the bronze happily. How exciting!