Ground Crew (Threadfall 1/25)

[Requiem]

Narration

Having been transferred to Southern Hold the night before, the candidates and junior weyrlings were roused just before dawn to see to the final preparations. It is one of the first times that the young riders have been separated from their bondeds. All of the dragonets are being housed in Blossom Hold.

Though it is now just past midday, the sky is a muted gray. Everything is still. The air is chill, expectant. In the near distance, the ocean waves roil on a wind that isn't felt along the shore. And, just ahead of that wind, the glimmering sheet of gray Thread glitters. After so many hours of preparations and waiting, the time had finally come. Soon, the dragonriders will emerge from Between overhead, and it will begin.


OOC:

Join in as you will, folkets! I'll be posting further narrations regularly until the thread closes for the dragonriders, so long as replies are still going up.

[boober]

[]

Cezine stood in silence as she looked out toward the sea, the wind that stirred the waves just ahead of the leading edge. She was prepared, having risen when the skies were barely even glowing ahead of the rising Rukbat to make preparations. There was only so much that was left in her control, but what little there was, she wanted it perfect. The flamethrower she wore had been checked, rechecked, and checked again over the course of the last few hours, making certain everything was immaculate. The nozzle was meticulously clean, the tanks filled with agenothree and the powdered stone that ignited the stuff. Since this had been accomplished, all that was left to do was wait.

Outwardly, she was the very picture of calm, though not the dull, bored calm that some people seemed to exude. Nor was it the forced calm of the very nervous. She'd served as groundcrew before, in her candidacy, but only two or three times since she became strong enough to carry a flamethrower. This experience gave her a slight confidence; she found comfort in the routine of preparation. But that didn't mean that the weyrling was comfortable standing there waiting to see if Thread fell on her. No, inwardly it was a feeling of anticipation, excitement almost strong enough to make her sweat. Calm on the outside, she still looked very alert, as if she were ready to spring at a moment's notice. She was not allowing herself the pleasure of being distracted... nevermind that this was her home that she had not seen in Turns, and she wanted to look around to see what, if anything, had changed. How she missed her family, her familiar things...

Catching her eyes straying, Cezine firmly returned her gaze to the leading edge, which was drawing nearer. Resisting the urge to shift her weight in anxiety, her thoughts turned to other things. She wondered how Brennath fared, and missed the nearness of her lifemate. They had not been separated like this before, and she only hoped that the green was all right without her. But of course she would be; Brennath was wonderful, she would be just fine. Besides, she had Sky and Topaz for company, so she would not be lonely. Cezine knew that her green was fond of her little cousins, no matter what she said about them. She would be glad to have them with her when she could not have her rider.



Standing nearby was yet another weyrling; he didn't seem to be quite as composed as the green rider, but instead of looking fearful, C'lryn seemed almost impatient. He wanted this to happen, wanted to get it over and done with so he could go back to his Minoath. Even though he'd grown up in the Weyr, he'd never imagined how strong the bond between rider and dragon was. Being separated from his bronze was worse than what he'd imagine being separated from his arm might be like. But he couldn't allow himself to be distracted right now. His mind alternated between thoughts of his dragon and thoughts of the task to come. C'lryn was impatient to meet Thread. Unlike some people, he'd slept as long as possible before rising and beginning the task of making sure everything was in working order. He had only checked over and tended to his flamethrower once, but it had been meticulous, and he had every confidence that the device was in working order.

Now all he had to do was wait.

[Requiem]

Over a turn now, he'd been here, and throughout that time, at every Fall, Mutasim found himself in the ranks of the ground crew. The child-sized teenager placed the last of the bags of firestone in the heap they were to guard. He meticulously set to cleaning his hands, checking over the flamethrower one last time to ensure that the nozzle was clean and the straps binding it to his back secure. One might have thought such a small lad would struggle with the bulky thing, but Mutasim seemed quite at ease with it.

Dressed in bright colors that would easily be seen, even through the haze, smoke and flames, the candidate was well-prepared. Unlike those around him, though, he had no trouble waiting. There was no outward calm hiding an anxious or excited core. This was a chore like all the rest. It had to be done. Others might think of what could happen, might get a thrill out of killing something that could easily destroy them, but he'd grown up facing death daily. It was blase. Normal. Almost boring. There was a quietness about him, a darkness that discouraged people from trying to breach the blank face and the keen, feral eyes that peered out from it. And, if they didn't know to avoid him by that alone, there were precious few garishly dressed midgets with his dusky skintone. Most who knew of Mutasim wouldn't bother to try to speak to him.

No, the candidate's mind wasn't on Thread, now that his initial duties were fully discharged and they were waiting upon the arrival of Alpha Flight. Instead, he thought of the corpse he'd left behind in the Main Hall. They must have never discovered who Trenlor's killer was. Regardless of their reaction, he was fairly certain they would have approached him about it, otherwise. There was no real thrill in taking a man's life, but he did get some satisfaction from it, he had to admit. Men like that had destroyed so many lives where he came from. To be rid of one of these parasites made Mutasim feel as if he'd accomplished something, however small.

His gaze flicked to the approaching edge of Thread. The dragonriders should be arriving soon, shouldn't they?

[Tashe]

The high rocks sheltered the young woman from the other weyrlings, from their grief and worry, it wouldn't do them any good to fret. The flamethrower that she had been given had been abandoned at the bottom of the tall rock on which she was perched, although the machine had been cleaned and placed out of harm's way. Lazily lifting her hand as a flitter appeared from the 'between', the Blueweyrling quietly looked from the sea to the small male, waiting for a report. Small flashes of images appeared in her mind, of which mainly contained the face of her dragon, but also emotions and feelings came along with them.

"How's Hokth doing?"

Looking down at the Weyrling who had called up to her, Saraina gave her a thumbs up before returning to the Blue flitter. Before long another Blue Firelizard appeared out of no where, flapping don obediently onto the young woman's other hand. Exchanging the same information like she had done with Zor, Sara turned back to her friend. "Scipio says Dasmonth is doing fine, she's trying to force everyone to calm down."

Sliding down from her perch, Saraina silently slung the flamethrower around her shoulders before shooing Scipio away to Blossom hold. Keeping Zor with her for the time being, the Weyrling made her way over to the rest of her awaiting classmates. Watching as Gina arrived next to her, Sara noticed a look of worry on her face. It wasn't worry for Dasmonth that troubled her, it was worry for her two cousins up in the air that forced an admission of fear pop up.

"I just hope that those two knuckleheads will be alright..."

[missa]

Many of the others had dragons, or bondeds in some way to worry about. Kayla didn't, and despite the weariness that came with waking before dawn, she was still one of the more fidgety ones. Yes, she was nervous, she'd be the first to admit that. Scared even, but she wasn't going to say that, not even Fea's ... Almost soothing presence could help. Thread had been falling for as long as anyone could remember, it was just something that happened. DragonRiders had been fighting for turns, and turns, they all knew what to do, the fighting was an inborn instinct for them.

Holding a flamethrower was not an inborn instinct for her. No matter how many times she was instructed, how many times her hold was corrected, it just never felt right. Sighing softly, Kayla let her gaze drift over the ocean, a small smile forming. Despite the mistiness, the cold, the very dreariness of the day, the sea was still beautiful. Even if Thread would soon fall and destroy that image of beauty..

"How's Thoth?" Rielana asked gently, noticing the fact that Beka wasn't in a pleasant mood again, instead of answering her question, scowling ahead of her. Rielana bit her lip, trying to take her mind off the fact that she was away from Jeminorth, and the fact that Thread would soon fall. Shifting from foot to foot with her nervousness, she tried again, ever the hopeful one.

"Well, at least you can say you've seen the ocean now, huh?" She grinned, and the other girl sighed, looking up at Rielana finally, in no way pleased that she'd struck up conversation with her of all people.
"I don't care. The ocean never held any desire for me. Anywhere was better than home. I want to go back, I miss Thoth. Even with Anai popping in and out-" PLeased that she had at least managed to get this much out of her, Rielana gave her a bright smile.
"Fiel, my blue. Says Jeminorth is being quiet, I miss her. I like being with her..."

Beka merely stared ahead of her, saying nothing. No, she wasn't in the mood for conversation, this time, it wasn't because of lack of sleep. It was merely being seperated from her bondeds, from the two creatures she actually cared about on this planet. Thoth, and Anai, who despite her annoyances, was one of the best friends someone could hope for. Especially her...

Not only this, but no matter what she told the green weyrling, then ocean had transfixed her. She'd never seen it before, so much water... In the dark day, with teh storm comign closer, it was beautiful. Smiling slightly at the thought, Beka shook her head, shaking it from her mind. She shouldn't be thinking about how lovely the water was, not when they were here for a reason.

Eyes stared at the water, a frown appearign as Religna watched the waves. The ocean brought back many memories she'd liek to forget, and as much as she'd like to claim it, she didn't feel the same love of the ocean she had once. True, many bad memories surrounded the ocean, yet, not in the ocean its self. The few times she got away to swim, they had been peaceful, or merely wandering on the beaches, though those had been less peaceful...

Perhaps it was merely because Ith wasn't there with her, she knew the green wanted to see the ocean, wanted to know what it looked like, smelt like, and despite Religna tshowing her, she still wanted to see it herself. It didn't feel quite right not having Ith there, despite thatReligna had once complained of liking her own company... Ith wasn't other company though, was she? No, she was as much a part of her as anything.. Blinking and shaking off these thoughts. Eyes flickered to the Thread, mind focusing.

[Administrator]

E'ri had his arms folded, gazing distantly at the oncoming cloud of Thread. His shift would be coming up soon, but for the meantime, he was in with the groundcrew. They were all so young... In addition, many of them were anxiously awaiting their turn to be able to fly against Thread, but their dragons were too young. And other children who hadn't even Impressed yet... It was times like this when E'ri felt so old. Especially since he had children now. He smiled fondly at the memory of Malerik and Rika, cuddled with their mother. While he was ecstatic to be a father, it made him realize his age more than anything. He was getting older, mere children were coming into the ranks beside him as a rider... Time passed quickly. Nocturne cooed from his perch on E'ri's shoulder. He felt rather nostalgic. Folding his arms as Thread neared, he adjusted his flamethrower, not acknowledging the others who were with him. As usual, he was lost in his thoughts. Thinking of Mal, of his twins, of the past, of the future. For a man of little words, he certainly had a lot of thoughts.

I bet you could write a song about it,[/color] Bazeth suggested playfully. E'ri chuckled.

"I'm pretty sure I already have, somewhere," he replied softly. He'd written so many little tunes that sometimes he forgot what he wrote. No matter, he liked writing, and could probably make a whole saga dedicated to the different images dancing across his mind. Only after he tended to the twins, of course. Shards, they were so sweet. Nearly bursting with pride, he bespoke Bazeth, who bespoke Meriath.

Mine would like to tell Yours that he is thinking of her,[/color] he told her lovingly. He wished he could be cuddling up with his green right now. But no- they had a lot of work to tend to, work that would make the world safer for E'ri and Mal's little hatchlings.

[lilliana]

He wasn’t alarmed. He wasn’t scared…or, at least, that’s what J’rew was telling himself. It didn’t really matter, either, as he told himself – it wasn’t as if he didn’t want to be here. A small green rested on his shoulder, her gaze locked on the dark cloud that approached. The weyrling, too, was gazing at the cloud for awhile, until he seemingly remembered something. “Gossip, go and stay with Krikith. I don’t want you hurt.” The green hissed unpleasantly, not taking her eyes off of the cloud, steadily coming closer. “Gossip. Now.” Finally, Gossip tore her gaze away from the cloud, giving J’rew a reproachful look before taking a short flight, and going between.

Krikith, Gossip’s with you, right? A brief silence, and then came the reply. Yes, my cousin is here. Mine, why can’t I be with you? A slight whine developed into the blue’s tone. What if something happens to you, after all?[/color] J’rew sighed lightly, checking on the ever-fast approaching Thread Cloud. Krikith, we’ve talked about this before. Just as I told Gossip – I don’t want you getting hurt. Imagine where that would leave me!! He received a noncommittal sound of partial agreement, making J’rew sigh.

However, before he could try to explain to Krikith again, Gossip reappeared, landing on J’rew’s head and digging her talons lightly into his scalp. “Gossip! Go away! Go back to Krikith!!!” Trying to bat the little f’lizard away, he mentally glared at his dragon. If I cannot protect you, Mine, my little cousin will.[/color] J’rew finally just gave up, allowing the green to perch on his head, while Krikith gloated quietly. “They’re plotting against me,” he murmured quietly, not even noticing the grin that had formed on his face. And then his eyes locked back on the cloud, his lips immediately forming a concentrated scowl. This would be an interesting…experience, to say the least. [/size]

[Requiem]

Narration

Thread finally begins to fall over the section of ground boasting the ground crew. The wings are doing well despite their small numbers. As of yet, there have been no incidents, other than the occasional burning sting of the gray dust and ash the Thread has been reduced to.

But the wind picks up, casting dust into the eyes of those waiting to back up the dragonriders. Dust and leaves and dirt. Apparently, the wind isn't just causing trouble for those on the ground. A few strands of Thread begin to sneak through.

One, half-burnt but still living, falls close to where Cezine is standing. It twists away from her as if intelligent, concealing the telltale silver gleam.

The boy standing near Saraina - a holdbred boy from Southern Hold - is too occupied with the dirt and leaves to notice the strand of Thread falling toward his shoulder.

A particularly large clump that somehow managed to survive the wings unscathed falls in the midst of the three junior weyrlings, Rielana, Religna and Beka. Perhaps they don't flame it right away because they can't see it well, or perhaps they are worried about catching each other in the crossfire, but regardless, it lands, the strands of Thread immediately beginning to burrow into the earth.

Another clump is headed directly for the pile of firestone, even as one of the middle altitude wingseconds calls for Bazeth to ferry some up to the flaming wings.

A single strand of Thread twists and turns, cavorting on the wind. It originally passes near Mutasim, the candidate unable to get a bead on it, before a gust of wind directs it straight for J'rew's heart.

As if the sudden flurry of activity after so much calm isn't enough, a great bellow rings out above them and, if anyone has the time to cast their eyes heavenward, they might see the mighty bronze Haloth tumbling headlong through the air as the wings scramble to keep up with the Thread high above. They will not even be close to flaming all of it before it drops to ground level. A veritable sheet of Thread is heading the ground crew's way.

[Tashe]

Finally getting to put her flamethrower to use, Saraina was barely aware of Zor burrowing down into her high collared shirt. The thread had been less than she expected, which meant that even their lack of a large amount of dragons hadn't hampered their flaming. Flaming wasn't a foreign thing to Sara, she had served on the ground crew for Selenitas a few times before, giving her an upper hand in using a flamethrower. Giving her help wherever it was needed, and in some places were it wasn't, the young bluerider went about her work in silence. Cursing at the culprit as her shoulder was grazed by the edge of a flame spurt, Sara snarled in pain before trying to ignore it. Switching the flame-gun from her right side to her left, the female Weyrling noticed a rouge strand of thread heading toward a boy. Sweeping the holdbrat's legs out from under neath him, Saraina flamed the strand of thread before rolling the boy out of the way of the fire ball.

Ignoring any sort of reply from the boy, the Weyrling glanced around before joining another group of her classmates to flame a particularly large amount of thread. A few more minutes of using her machine, Sara let her eyes stray upward because of a bellow, and what she saw unsettled her. Something had to have gone wrong up in the wings above to cause this amount of thread to fall, and the now captured Bronze could have had something to do with it.

"HEADS! Thread sheet falling! Guards up!" Letting her own voice well up from inside the back of her throat, Sara called out a loud warning for those who had not seen the large wave of thread.