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Post by glamourie on May 26, 2009 16:07:54 GMT -5
No more words came. Good. Speech was worthless in a flight. If they wanted her affection (however fleeting it may have been), the males would have to show they could keep up with her - and Calistoth was determined to make what would normally be a relatively simple task into one of the hardest ones imaginable. Her eyes seared hues of scarlet and she barreled down as fast and hard as she could, toward the ground. Her angular descent was sped up by rapid twists and turns, barrel-rolling downward like a torpedo with a set target. She knew her own strength, her own speed, and her own agility better than most greens and she knew exactly what she was doing. Faster she flew, diving toward the ground and then she turned. Not away from the ground but enough that she could dip down, the tips of her wings brushing the grass below, and then raise up again at an extremely sharp angle. Those following closest to her would have to be careful not to collide snout-first with the muddy ground and the weather had fog lifting up off the ground -- a thin, gray-white veil hiding the exact distance from view. Practice makes perfect.
Were all of them still with her? Calistoth daren’t not look back; she didn’t want to check, or imply she cared about any of her Chasers’ well-being in the least. She also wasn’t sure she would be able to see them. With the wind howling around her and the rain splattering against her hide (adding a wet sheen to her already prominent glow), it was unlikely the storm would give her any indication to the state of those following her. She pumped her wings roughly to ascend, back toward the clouds, back to her shadows high above. She wanted height, she wanted speed, she wanted to prove her strength. But the wind was rough on her - and it made her wings hurt. She wasn’t sure how long she would be able to stay aloft -- but she didn’t intend to give up any time soon. She was Calistoth! She was the best green ever! She would not be weakened by mere rain!
Her human counterpart curled into a small ball, his arms wrapping around his legs. Thoughts of Thoth led to thoughts of Beka, and drew unshed tears to his eyes that he hid from the people around him. Beka was his friend. One of the few friends he had. She’d died like a hero and what had he done? He’d cowered. Their son was motherless. He missed Beka, and he didn’t want to replace her with someone else, even if it was only in the form of flight. He didn’t want reminders of her. However, the unhappiness he felt was soon spread over by anger not entirely his own and challenge. Despite himself, K’lir slung his legs over the side of the furs, facing away from the Chasers, and he stood up before half-dashing to the end of the weyrledge. The storm blew wind and water all over him and he stopped at the very edge, staring downward as his mind reeled; Calistoth was flying, not him. He couldn’t fly…
Don’t pick someone with a female rider, he told the green firmly - having already lost track of who was there, he had no idea who that applied to. Please no female riders.
We will pick whoever is most worthy -- not that any of them deserve our radiance! Unlike K’lir, Calistoth did not separate; she was K’lir, K’lir was her, they were one. Just because her rider was resistant to the wind carrying them through the air didn’t mean that she was, and she was barely aware of him being a separate entity anymore at all; to her, his voice was simply another in her mind, considering, contemplating - not her rider, for he was Her. And she did not intend to let anything stand in the way of her decision. She would choose whoever she wanted the most of the males who managed to keep up with her through the wind and the rain. We will pick only the most deserving. Who their bonded is means nothing to me!
Half-overwhelmed by the green’s sudden fury, K’lir stumbled back a step. His vision blurred and he brought one hand up to his face, barely aware of his surroundings. Only the best for Calistoth, the best Green on Pern. His stomach turned over and his mind stared drifting away on the wind and the rain…
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Rei
Administrator
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Post by Rei on May 26, 2009 20:52:03 GMT -5
Kaaoloth followed his electric beacon like a brown homing missile. The large brown was not stupid. He knew his own limits in and out due to the aerial battles he was forced into at Fort. He dove after Calistoth at the highest level of speed he could control, without any pretty acrobatics. Kaaoloth’s body was built for strength and endurance not speed and graceful aerial stunts. The ground was hidden in a bank of fog but Kaaoloth judged the distance to the ground well enough by looking at the height of the trees he was approaching. In the last second he pulled up his wings sending the fog whirling around his scared body in twin tornados. Flicking his tail tip against the ground as he pulled up. The brown bugled, the sound carrying for a few feet before the wind whipped it away. His empress was such a clever female. That could very well be an inexperienced dragon’s death trap.
Kaaoloth surged up after her using his large wings to their fullest advantage. He would never be as quick or graceful as Calistoth in the air but he was more than strong enough to follow at a respectable speed. The other chasers where spared nary a glance. Long forgotten by the scared brown where the bronze and blue. It was only Calistoth and the fury of the storm she had kindled within him that had his attention. The icy rain did little to cool the flames flowing through his veins. The beating his wings where taking from the rough winds was only a mild tinge of discomfort on the edges of his mind. It made his empress’s chase that much sweeter.
As K’lir/Calistoth curled into a ball Sel’n/Kaaolth crooned to her the sound meant to be reassuring. His green was strong, stunning, wild, and clever. She must not hide herself. Didn’t she burn to be desired as the Empress she was? Heedless of the other chasers the brown followed at a fast clip as his K’lir/Calistoth sprinted to the rain drenched ledge. He stayed back, plenty of space as a buffer between him and any fury she sought to throw his way. The wind and rain whipped at the brown rider’s hair and clothes, drenching him, but he ignored it to bask in the fury that was her. His wings burned they did. But she was a prize worth any amount of pain.
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Kisha-Ra
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Post by Kisha-Ra on May 27, 2009 7:15:50 GMT -5
Wind whipped around Idith, seeming all the wilder for the speed of his controlled fall after Calistoth. By half spreading his wings he slowed to a manageable speed but lost ground on his green. The bronze did not even attempt to copy her movements, he was large, even for his colour, it would be utter folly for him to mimic such movments, and the mess he would surely make of it would not impress such a perfectly agile female one bit. Idith would have to find some other way to impress her.
The ground loomed, a shadow in the fog and rain. Calistoth streaked away from it, riseing as sharply as she had descended. Idith snapped his own wings open and hauled his body from near vertical to horizontal by main force ignoring the objections of his shoulders and flight muscles. Calistoth was worth any fleeting pain, any minor discomfort, for against her glory all things were poor fleeting things.
Idith’s momentum carried him along bare feet above several yards of mercifully unobstructed ground before he could pull up. As he rose after Calistoth he bellowed victoriously, sound that the wind tore away from him. He was up! He was coming for her! He was not going to be tricked that easily! What else did she have him, his bold bright, beautiful, lightning green?
R’aro’s eyes never left K’lir, as the greenrider on in on himself the human part of R’aro took a step forward, wanting to comfort but his greater dragon part rebelled against the notion. No touching! Not yet… Oh his green was going somewhere? R’aro stalked after K’lir though the bronzerider went no further than just outside the room. Calistoth wasn’t done testing them yet, he wouldn’t crowd her, she was too wild to be forced into an early choice.
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Post by nightingale on May 27, 2009 12:02:17 GMT -5
A second cloud bank rose up around the object of Cherilith's affection, and suddenly she was off and climbing in another direction. Having been forced to the rear of the pack, the young blue was given ample opportunity both to observe and prepare his own reaction to this sudden change in pace. He slowed and leveled out as the ground approached, spreading his wings wide and throwing his weight into the turn. He made a tight circle around the invisible point where Calistoth had turned to charge upward into the heart of the storm, the tip of one wing trailing in the low hanging mist and churning it into tiny ripples.
Once oriented, the blue turned his attentions skyward and fixed them on the glittering gem he so fervently desired. The fact that Kaaoloth and Idith -now recognized as a bronze- had outpaced him served to both inflame his passions and draw a spark of crimson anger into his lusty violet eyes. He let out a piercingly defiant shriek, the sound alarmingly foreign when heard coming from the throat of such a sweet natured blue. With a sharp beat of his wings he was off and soaring, punishing his already abused muscles as he fought to reclaim his place beside Calistoth. Another shriek was sent flying among the thunderheads as he passed Idith, slightly more breathless than the first. He made a great and painful show of banking a full circle around Kaaoloth before pushing himself higher, shrieking his defiance a third time.
Every particle of him begged for respite, and so Cherilith allowed himself a slightly less frantic pace as he pulled above the competition. He was confident that so long as he was vigilant, he would be able to keep the lead over his slower brothers...but there was the doubt again. Would be able to endure the full length of this frantic and passionate race? His green was so wild and strong...but surely she was nearly spent by now? He wanted to strike himself for even entertaining the idea that Calistoth was capable of tiring, and so the blue tapped into the searing pain of his wings to keep his mind where it ought to be. Moment by moment...he could only focus on what was and hope he was worthy of claiming the greatest prize ever to set the skies of Pern ablaze.
Saeo flinched backward, startled as the object of her affection suddenly took to the 'sky'. She followed without giving a second thought to the matter, narrowing her eyes against the rain as she hurried out onto the ledge behind him. It felt right, this being cold and wet with the wind tenderly clawing her hair back into a mass of tangled ribbons. This was where a dragon should be…wait…there was that nagging feeling again. What was wrong? She belonged out here with her glorious Calistoth…Calistoth. Wrong name…no…no, who was this then? Why did flying suddenly seem so dangerous?
“K’lir?” The girl murmured. Her voice was soft and troubled as the weyrledge wavered tentatively into view. Ledge…bad…falling was bad. “Back.” She said a little louder, trying to fight off the irrational fear of his disapproval at having spoken aloud. “K’lir, come back. You’ll fall.” Her fevered mind didn’t fully grasp how a strong young green could fall to their death with strong wings to hold them aloft, but a nauseating fear was beginning to block what she considered rationality in her current state. He couldn't fly, not right now. It was just too dangerous for flying!
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Avu
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Post by Avu on May 27, 2009 15:24:23 GMT -5
He could see nothing, hear nothing, of the flight above; the moaning of the wind canceled out almost every noise save for the rustling and scrabbling of leaves underfoot, the Salamandyr uttering a restless whine as he spun in a small circle, agitated; this was easily the hardest Flight he’d ever taken part in and Stupid did not know which way to go – where had Calistoth gone…? Surely she was somewhere nearby; how far could she have gone…? And then Cherilith’s shrieks of defiance rang out, so startlingly close – almost directly overhead – that Stupid squawked back instinctively, and then displayed his frill nervously – before he darted to the nearest, the tallest, tree he could see: It easier stretched, tall and straight, lacking many branches, over a dragonlength into the sky – this would serve his purpose well, it would! Stupid flicked his tail nervously for a moment, vaguely aware that the sound of straining wingbeats, so hard to hear before, were getting even fainter – he had to hurry, he did!
Clutching at the bark, the Salamandyr pulled himself up the trunk, writhing and wriggling to gain speed, tail clutching the smallest twigs to push himself still higher. Muscles trembling with fatigue, the Salamandyr’s wings splayed wide open, his frill slicked back against his neck as he teetered nervously at the halfway point. Another scurry – and he nearly fell, which would almost definitely have ended in disaster in the wet woods with so little wind to hold him up. His claws grated against the wood, the Salamandyr pausing and whining despairingly before he continued, pulling himself up – slowly – so slowly – and then he emerged out of the main canopy of the forest, and the tree’s top was in motion, whipping and shying in the wind.
Stupid clung. He didn’t know what else to do. Eyes whirled frantically as he glanced upwards, straining to see Calistoth, and then he crooned weakly. Am here, bestest, he offered, despite her previous comment about not talking; how could he not…? She couldn’t possibly notice him, small and huddled in the crotch of two branches, as he was…the Salamandyr curled up into a tiny ball, trembling for a moment before the wind seemed to lift – and then, in a reckless surge of lust, he leapt from the tree, wings flapping hard and fast as his frill came wide open, too, straining –
And in that wild, reckless moment, T’rid lost himself. It was not immediately noticeable; the bronzerider stiffened, eyes widening, and for a moment his grasp on Corinth’s muzzle tightened – and then his arms slackened, dropped to his sides numbly as his shoulders arched in Stupid’s effort, a low whine emerging from his throat, through clenched teeth. He felt as if he had run fifty miles; his legs ached and trembled with the fatigue as he curled tighter, pushing Corinth’s head out of the way with one hand, almost roughly, as the bronze crooned, high-pitched and nervous; Conspiracy’s shrill whistling panic cut through T’rid’s lack of voluntary movement, and the bronzerider turned his head and hissed at the firelizard.
In the next moment, he was on his feet, gaze flickering around the weyr with an almost detached curiosity, before he stepped dazedly towards the entrance of his weyr, and then –
Stupid started to loose altitude; the original adrenaline that had fueled his action died with the wind and as the Salamandyr began to fall, he keeled impotently. Don’t lemme – The words were involuntary as he spread his wings and frill further still, trying to use them to catch his fall – true, he didn’t fall as fast, but he was still guaranteed to earn quite a few bruises. He was out of the running – the Salamandyr’s entire body drooped soundlessly with the realization that the green’s Flight would no longer include him – and he folded his wings to his body, abruptly heartbroken – on the ledge, Corinth’s head came around, eyes whirling rapidly, and he squawked – the bronzerider in question staggered, one hand coming up to cover his eyes; he blinked rapidly, swallowing – both arms extended wide – and then dropped again, and he groaned softly.
Corinth’s guiding muzzle was only vaguely recognized, the bronze half-pushing him to the wall, which he positively fell against, eyes suddenly wide with terror. “I’m falling,” he gasped out, clutching at the wall in an attempt to keep himself upright as his knees seemed to give out. “I’m – I’m f – falling…” Don’t fall. Land in the river, Stupid. Land in the river – The bronze’s guidance was both to Salamandyr and His, and his muzzle was pressed tightly against T’rid’s back, dry tongue flicking out to lick His affectionately as the Salamandyr twisted obediently, listlessly – and then, as Corinth snorted irritably, a gold firelizard – Zesa – emerged from between just above Stupid and caught the brown out of the air, scolding him irritably – did he have a death wish?! – as she swooped to drop him neatly to the ground. Silly Salamandyr – didn’t he have better things to do than suicide…?
The Salamandyr forlornly dragged himself under a rock, and curled up halfheartedly. Who knew greenflights could be quite so challenging…?
The lust was still there. It was tinged with a miserable resignation, but it was still there, and he needed to get rid of it. The bronzerider pressed one hand against the wall, the other seeking the doorknob. With Stupid leaving the Flight early had come a sense of himself again – and Corinth had pressed against his mind again, soothingly – but the lust…the door swung open, and, doing his best to ignore the residual lust that still squirmed and rose like lava inside of him, the bronzerider, nearly at a dead run, headed for the Flightrooms. The sooner he could get a Flightmoth –
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Post by glamourie on May 27, 2009 16:58:27 GMT -5
Her wings beat, propelling her forward, forward, harder. Each wing beat stung, coming to hurt more and more, until the steady burn in her wings was almost more than she could bear. The rain felt like thousands of tiny needles beating into her hide as she flew, her speed as fast as she could push herself. Calistoth wasn’t a small green, though, so while the speed was definitely impressive, it wasn’t the fastest her color could move. Through the wind and the rain, however, she was certain she made an impressive sight, green brilliance like a steady stream of color through the air. The further she flew, the harder the storm became; she was flying right toward the heart of the winds and fury, with bolts of lightning dancing through the clouds all around her. Blue-white they were, jolting all around in her view, but not near enough to touch. She danced through the clouds in a wave-like pattern, the sound of bugling from behind her drawing the green’s attention only temporarily. Who was that? It sounded triumphant; were they all still there? … Her worm was lost, hnn… But then, she hadn’t expected him to keep up. The worms weren’t so impressive as she was.
That bugle was followed by a shriek that definitely drew Calistoth’s focus, and she looked over her shoulder to spy a glitter of metallic bronze recognizable as Idith -- her bronze, at least for now; but he would abandon her, he would, like they all did. Bronzes only stayed with golds, and though she was far more impressive, it was unlikely he’d see it that way in the end. Her brown still followed too, and she whipped through the clouds with her head turned to look at her chasers until she located the source of the sounds -- Cherilith. He’d managed to keep up? Impressive, for a weyrling; she did not offer him any indication to her interest, though. Calistoth was not one to favor any males in flight, regardless of how hard they tried. If they had her focus they’d be the one she chose. Otherwise -- well, otherwise they simply weren’t worth her time, were they?
Her wings were hurting worse. She resisted the urge to whimper, but the pain she felt from flying through the clouds was becoming obvious in each wing beat, and try though she might, she couldn’t keep herself ascended; she was starting to drift down toward the ground --
“K’lir?”
Who was speaking to her?! Hadn’t she said -- he said -- K’lir blinked twice in alarm, amber eyes staring straight into the black-as-night canyon around him as his brain registered exactly where he was standing. Someone was speaking to him. He turned around sharply right as Saeo continued with “You’ll fall” and his bare feet slipped on the wet ledge of the weyr - making her warning very much a reality. His weight went out from under him and he slipped sharply, right off the edge of the ledge. His movements were all mechanical and before he could stop himself, his hands were clenching onto Saeo’s shoulders, fear painting itself quite prominently across his face; she was the closest one to him, the only thing keeping him from tumbling down to his death on the floor of the canyon below. His nails dug into her shirt, moving to her torso to try and use the bluerider to pull himself back onto the ledge - back away from danger. He didn’t want to die - he didn’t -
“Don’t let me fall!”
Perhaps entirely by accident, K’lir’s accident was mimicked by Calistoth. Her wings suddenly slammed back and she slowed her speed to such that it would be nearly impossible for the males to avoid colliding with her if they weren’t careful. Spinning, the green latched onto Cherilith and clung to him with as much force as she could. Her rider’s fear was mimicked on her face; she did not understand her predicament remotely, but she knew that she was about to fall and she didn’t want to. She couldn’t fall. She had wings. But she was falling nonetheless and Cherilith was the only thing keeping her from certain death -- the only safety net she had.
Don’t you dare let me fall!
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Post by nightingale on May 27, 2009 22:11:56 GMT -5
Calistoth’s wings flared, and suddenly the blue who had been tracking her through the storm was far too close. Cherilith narrowed his wings sharply and fell into a sharp dive, feeling her tail graze his shoulder as he passed beneath her without an inch to spare. The young blue twisted himself around to face her, wondering what had prompted her to stop so abruptly only to find that she was on top of him. He chirped in alarm, caught completely off guard by the extra weight that he suddenly found pressing down upon him.
As soon as they had come, his confusion and alarm were overtaken by sheer elation. It burned through every drop of blood and sinew in his body, fueling him to pump his wings harder and faster. He would do anything just to keep his beautiful green among the screaming clouds where she belonged. His efforts may as well have been in vain. He and Calistoth were too well matched in size and wingspan, and though he strained to hold her in place he was only succeeding at slowing their downward plunge.
Still he fought to keep them aloft. Her claws in his shoulders, the brush of her wings on his hide and the electric smell of her rain-drenched body –these were the prizes he had striven to win. Cherilith crooned, his voice trembling with strain and adoration as he wrapped his neck around her. The young blue was aware that no dragon could ever truly lay claim to the storm that was Calistoth, but just for this moment –however long it would last- he belonged to her. He wasn’t going to let her go. I have you my treasure. I will not let you fall.
Saeo echoed her dragon’s words numbly, though her voice had notably more panic than adoration humming though it. She clung blindly to K’lir, focusing all of her strength and balance toward keeping them both from falling to their deaths. The girl had never been renowned for her strength, but the fact that she and K’lir were matched almost pound for pound was what saved them in the end. She somehow managed to hook her arms around him, and feeling that shred of security in their touch she threw her weight backward with all the force she could muster.
They fell scarcely a pace from the very edge of the cliff, and feeling that wasn’t nearly enough Saeo gathered the last of her strength and dragged them both backward another several feet toward the safety of the flight rooms. Her entire chest throbbed with pain, but the discomfort went nearly unnoticed. The bluerider held K’lir tightly against her, kissing his hair and stoking his cheek reassuringly as she murmured breathless words of affection. “I have you my precious one…my song…my thunder…my heart…” She crooned tenderly, letting her kisses trail down the side of his jaw. Whatever traces of human sensibility she may have retained were vanishing quickly as her dragon’s lust coursed through her. She would protect her beautiful green. She wouldn’t let him fall. Not ever.
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