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Post by glamourie on Oct 4, 2008 5:36:02 GMT -5
"Not good, not good, not good," K'lir muttered to himself as he paced back and forth the length of his weyr. On the sunning ledge lay Calistoth, curled up for all to see. He cast a glance at her and cracked his knuckles, pacing all the while. Like a mantra he repeated, "Not good, not good, not good," under his breath, though no one was around for him to see it. Showoff had quite wisely hit the high road and was most likely following Uu'n around at the Gather... Uu'n or Ka'rys; someone he could torture publicly with humiliating outbursts and/or biting (he did so love to do that). Little deviant. K'lir was extremely jealous, and for a very good reason. He glanced at Calistoth again. Yes, a very good reason.
It was obvious to anyone who knew her that Calistoth was close to flight. While her hide naturally had an emerald sheen as though someone took the time to polish her finely, there was a very distinct glow that made her nearly blinding to look at, a light in the dark. Curled up as she was on the weyrledge, that glow was unmistakeable, a fine green to be seen throughout the entire canyon. She'd picked the spot at the very edge of her weyr for that reason. Though they shared a double, K'lir had suggested Rielana and Jeminorth head off to the Gather. What possessed Shmee to put them together was beyond him - but he did not want to be responsible for Calistoth losing her temper and trying to tear Jeminorth apart for daring to be near her when she was close to flight. It was hard enough to keep those two from fighting under normal circumstances, let alone extenuating ones. He did not have enough faith in Calistoth listening to him when she was proddy. Even her normal behavior was hard to temper enough for most people to find her bearable and she really only listened when he provided extensive flattery.
The ledge was all hers, and she made it clear that she was not to be ignored. How Calistoth had raged that a Gather was set when she was close to flight. So many males missing, unable to bask in her glory and wondrous glow. K'lir wasn't exactly thrilled by that fact, either; it meant he would miss the Gather, and he had no idea how many males would even remain close by. If there weren't enough for her liking, there was a good chance that Calistoth would throw a tantrum later. But for the moment, she was asleep, and easily spotted, a glowing green beacon stretched out on the ledge, like a search light, visible and ready. Only the blind would not see her radiance.
K'lir wanted to hide. Flights were always awkward for him. The last time Calistoth flew, he woke up in bed with Beka, which wasn't so bad except that, well, Beka was not on his "to do" list, and he hated feeling out of control. He was a dominant personality by nature, and he liked the idea of being in charge, being on top. Calistoth rendered him out of control of his own actions and behavior to some degree. He didn't lose himself fully in flight lust, though; at least, last time he hadn't, and Showoff never managed to completely entrance him either. Sheer stubbornness... or good fortune? Whatever it was, he didn't like watching someone he would normally not consider his type (Beka was his friend - that made her off limits) turn into the most lovely creature he'd ever viewed. It was awkward in a very bad way... and unavoidable, although the idea of sneaking out to the forest, to the dense tree tops he so liked hiding in was very, very tempting.
She would Rise when she woke. He knew that, instinctively. There wasn't really enough time to find a hiding place and honestly, K'lir wasn't sure what sort of result that would have if he did. So instead, he paced, skulking back and forth as if he expected something to pop out of the walls and grab him. The slight stirring at the edge of the weyr didn't help any. Calistoth liked to blood. It wasn't a common trait in greens, but Calistoth wasn't common; for a green she was big and she was vicious. Secretly, K'lir suspected she did it solely for the sake of killing something. Whenever she Rose, she woke with a level of violence unusual even for her, and it bled over onto K'lir; he always wanted to make whoever dared to come near him bleed. Blood on skin was incredibly attractive. No, not enough time to get away. Back and forth, back and forth, "Not good, not good, not good...."
Maybe... maybe most of the males would be at the Gather. Maybe there wouldn't be very many people? Sex didn't frighten him; losing control did. K'lir twitched slightly.
Calistoth stirred. Her wings flared and her eyes opened, then she stretched out, her claws raking down the familiar lines of the weyrledge. It was not uncommon for her to dig her claws into the stone with an ear-splitting screech that echoed through the canyon; she liked the sound. Her tail flipped and she growled lowly before turning to look back into the darkness of the weyr. Do not fret so, she said privately to K'lir as she threw herself off the weyrledge and spiraled down gracefully. Her wings caught her and she glided up and over, in the direction of the feeding grounds. None of them are worthy of us anyway. She landed delicately, wings fluttering, and watched the beasts below. K'lirHers was frightened, but she did not understand why; even her words did not comfort. Did he not realize that only the best would even be considered for her? Not that any of them truly ever deserved her.
She growled. Her eyes fixated on one of the herdbeasts and she pounced forward, tearing it apart with remarkable ease. She was no queen, but she did not have any desire to be weighted down by hunger; she was smart enough to realize that the meat was a bad idea. Only the rich blood would do. Only.
K'lir still wanted to hide.
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Avu
Weyrleader Ce'thian Rider A'emi Handler Sena Harper Matteo Weyrbrat Riaren
Posts: 2,439
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Post by Avu on Oct 4, 2008 11:08:18 GMT -5
I thought you said you wanted to Gather, Corinth said accusingly, staring at T’rid, who was flicking the seeds from a fruit at Stupid, watching in amusement as the brown frilled whenever a seed fell too near him, keeping up an indignant stream of mumbles all the while. …Stupid pay eat! Kill, /maul/ slash! Stupid! Seed flick stupid… T’rid paused in his game, looking up at the bronze, who was sunning himself on the weyr ledge. “I was going to go, but—eh, I figured I’d just get some boots from the Headwoman or something, and I don’t really need anything else.” He shrugged. What about music? Dancing? That earned a snort of amusement. “Can you really see me dancing, Cor?” The bronze tilted his head, considering. No. Come to that, no. Well, fine. No Gather. /But/, he added warningly, There is a green close to Rising; she may Rise today…
T’rid shrugged. “You won’t Chase.” I will Chase. Many of my competitors are…at Gather. Therefore, my chances are higher, no? “Well, what green?” Calistoth. T’rid, who had just picked up the pile of seeds to continue flicking them at a frantically frilling Stupid, froze, his eyes swiveling to stare at Corinth. “You. Wouldn’t. Dare.” Calistoth meant K’lir, and K’lir meant nothing good mostly because he was, in short, a male. And—“I am not going to sleep with a male, Corinth!” Don’t you remember your punishment for not letting me Chase Millieth? Corinth sounded horribly smug. “I’ll hold you back.” I’d like to see you try. “I am not going to just let you start Chasing Calistoth! K’lir’s on our wing, for Faranth’s sake, he’s a he.” I am fully aware of that.
T’rid had just opened his mouth to argue more, hot anger pounding at his temples, to say that they were going to Gather right this instant—but whatever was about to come out died in his throat with a gargled cry when an odd grating, screeching sound came to his ears: Claws against stone. Calistoth Rises! Corinth’s cry was no longer smug and taunting; now he was caught up in the excitement, his bugle exultant, as he flung himself off of the weyr ledge, wings still closed, letting himself drop, before snapping his wings open abruptly. The unexpected change sent him upwards and forwards, his eyes unerringly picking out the brilliant green glow that was Calistoth.
“NO! NO! YOU BLOODY, DIMGLOWED, SHARDING, IMBECELIC, FARDLING LITTLE BRAT, NO! GET BACK HERE!”
Fully aware that this was neither aiding nor hindering Corinth, T’rid ground his teeth in agonized horror as the all-too-familiar dragonlust built inside of him—and, unexpectedly, anger. He blinked dazedly, staring unseeingly at Corinth. And then—NO! NO, STUPID WINGBUTT, MY PRETTY! Stupid’s frill was extended fully, shrieking indignantly. T’rid gaped at the brown creature—no doubt that had been incited by his…love of green dragons, combined with the lust broadcasted from Corinth to T’rid and, therefore, to Stupid. He doubled over with a low groan, trying unsuccessfully to stifle the urgent need growing in his stomach—Stupid’s anger really wasn’t helping much, either. He closed his eyes tightly, biting his lip to keep from uttering a string of curses.
Corinth, meanwhile, was happily oblivious to Stupid’s shrieked insults, and to T’rid’s internal struggle—he was expecting a struggle, a fight, from T’rid, and besides, the lust was too strong to drown out anyways. He bugled again as he tipped his wing sideways, sending him into a downward spiral—wait! Why was she blooding? Oh, but she was a queen. Of course she would blood! The bronze crooned in appreciation, dropping onto a fat herdbeast a respectful few dragonlengths away from Calistoth. If his queen blooded, so, too, would he. Corinth pinned down the herdbeast in his foreclaws, crouching over it, his eyes fixed on Calistoth as he buried his teeth into the creature’s throat, sucking at the wriggling creature unmercifully, until its frantic struggling ceased. His tongue forked out, licking the remnants of blood away from his muzzle, a low, growling croon emerging from his throat as he straightened, arching his neck and uttering another bugle, his tail uncurling from the lashed position around his haunches to lay straight out behind him, wings half-lifted.
Whenever she flew, he would be ready.
T’rid had pressed his forehead against the wall, trying to steady himself and drown out the lust—an impossible feat. He had to find K’lir. No, not K’lir, Calistoth; he had to find Calistoth. He had to find his beautiful, glowing, lovely queen. A low frustrated growl escaped him as he glanced around, almost as if he was expecting for the green to appear in front of him. Now, then, where was she? Not here. Not here; he had to find her. Yes. That was good. Ignoring Stupid’s indignant cries, T’rid straightened automatically, moving through his cluttered weyr with a quick, imperative step, out to the hallway. Calistoth. Calistoth… The name repeated itself in his mind, each repetition bringing a more urgent desire with it.
Ah! It seemed an eternity later that he managed to find Calistoth. He stopped as soon as she—he—Calistoth—was within easy seeing distance, silently standing there, just staring, satisfying the urge to look at his green.
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Post by neeuqtar on Oct 4, 2008 11:22:05 GMT -5
Rath crouched on his ledge, an eager anger burning in his chest. He had failed to Capture one green, it was true, but he was not Chasing greens for their sake. No, he was Chasing greens for a much more devious purpose. He wanted to punish His, and what better way than to Chase a green while R'non was at Gather? Rath knew how to hold a grudge, and he wanted to be perfectly certain that the next time a queen Rose, he would be in the skies after them, no matter how His felt about it.
The bronze carefully shielded his thoughts from his rider until Calistoth awoke, descending on the herdbeasts kept for Rising queens and dispatching one, sucking the blood from its mangled body. He leapt from his weyr, flashing bronze wings open before landing on an outcropping on the canyon wall, neck down and watching Calistoth with his wings mantled, determination and desire in every line of his massive form.
What the--- Faranth sharding NO! R'non screamed at his dragon. Rath ignored the words. R'non needed to be punished.
[[R'non at "Where's my Green?" at Blossom]]
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Post by reqqy on Oct 5, 2008 7:21:34 GMT -5
Jessereth was bored.
HinMine was at that insanely crowded place with the hatchling and the one Jessereth still would gladly tear to shreds (he'd told his rider in no uncertain terms that he was not about to wait around for them for candlemarks and be forced to make nice with the other dragons playing ferry). The brown flopped down on his weyrledge with a huff. So bored. Rolling over onto one side, he looked out toward the ocean, not turning his head so everything remained sideways and the horizon stretched out at a strange and interesting angle. It was when you started doing things like this that you knew you were likely going to go mad from boredom if things were allowed to persist. Rolling back onto his feet, he paced one way, then back.
That was when a sudden idea came to him. Most dragons annoyed him, but one he'd managed to have a conversation with that didn't turn bothersome. Would Calistoth still be here? Arcing his neck, he looked to her weyrledge, then paused. He really should pay more attention to other dragons sometimes. The green was normally shiny, yes, but this was clearly pre-Flight luster. He crouched, as if he could conceal himself out in the open as he was, and watched her.
Well, he had been bored, hadn't he?
A touch of excitement grew in his belly when she dropped from her ledge and killed the beast, though whether it was at her beauty, at what the action meant, or a reaction to seeing the blood so artfully displayed was hard to say. He moved to the edge of the ledge to get a better view, huffing mildly when a bronze followed suit. Corinth. Why would you blood after the female? She'd leave you in the dust while you were still getting your fangs properly into the creature.
Flash of bronze. Rath. The imposter was at it again. Jessereth was now fully convinced that the bronze was doing it just to spite him. His eyes narrowed. He didn't join the insignificant rivals down there. Jessereth could just as easily chase from up here, and he announced his intent with a short, rumbling bellow, his wings unfurling for a moment. This should be interesting. He hoped someone would maim themselves trying to catch the glorious, evil Calistoth.
HinMine hadn't noticed yet. Somehow, that knowledge just put Jessereth in a better mood. Wouldn't His be surprised? Served him right for blowing off his mindmate to play house with Ciceroth's and the hatchling...
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Post by switchblade on Oct 5, 2008 19:18:31 GMT -5
It was the day of the Gather and M’vorn, who had been fully intending upon attending, was busying himself with putting together a travel sack of all the various woven and embroidered trinkets he had prepared for selling. But even as he pulled on his nice clothes (a vivid blue shirt over black trousers) and combed through his long, soft brown waves, he kept getting the sneaking suspicion that something wasn’t right. Things were too quiet in there for one thing, even with the two of them being untalkative types and Nosy being out. Ordinarily, their silences were comfortable, but this? This was forced and he didn’t know why. Byrith was a quiet one alright, but he was routinely pleasant. Today, he’d barely even looked in M’vorn’s direction and his movements seemed tense.
Tilting his head to one side slightly, M’vorn watched in silence as his lifemate slunk over and curled up on the sunning ledge, staring out at the world with such a pervasive wistfulness that it could hardly be ignored. Something was up and his lifemate was trying to show rather than tell. Still, the bluerider, while being a deeply empathetic and sensitive soul, had no way of knowing every little thought floating about his almost too-considerate dragon’s head. He could venture a few guesses. What had the blue all hunched over like that and unwilling to even turn in his direction?
Such a lovely blue, too. He was small, even by blue dragon standards, with smaller limbs, wings and a shorter neck. Where other dragons had clear muscle definition, Byrith appeared almost dainty, delicate. This M’vorn had always appreciated, as it gave his lifemate a fluid grace of movement that some of the other larger dragons just didn’t have with their bulk. As if that was enough to admire, his color was striking. Vivid, sky blue was Byrith, the hue so intense it seemed to radiate the color; like his hide was stretched over blue glows. As if that wasn’t eye-catching enough, the color did not darken, lighten or fade anywhere over the entirety of his body. All over, he was M’vorn’s day-glow-blue lifemate.
“You’re hiding from me,” he remarked gently, unsure whether to tackle this thing head-on, or to maybe try nabbing the tail of the issue to start. Byrith was normally so easy-going that honestly, M’vorn didn’t know how to even begin. Shifting a little, Byrith angled his head in M’vorn’s direction, one great eye whirling in shades of worry. Ah. So that explained the sudden anxious knot in his gut. But still, what had he missed? Without a second though, he stretched up, pulling his body into a taunt, long line and ran a hand along the blue’s eyeridge, the oiling from the previous night making the hide feel even more supple than usual. “What’s the matter?”
You will not be happy, came Byrith’s grudging reply, mindvoice barely above a whisper, the rubbing seeming to finally be the thing to wear down his silence. Carefully, he brought his head down a bit so that M’vornHis would not have to stretch like that. It couldn’t be comfortable.
“Why would you think that?” M’vorn inquired tentatively, still rubbing with diligence. The vibrant blue did not wish to answer. Out on her ledge, there sunned the most vibrant green in all the weyr, impossible to ignore even if one had wish of it and glowing brilliantly with her right to Rise. And he... Well, if nothing else, M’vornHis was a forgiving sort, yes? He would get over missing the Gather, right?
Calistoth will Rise. Silence from His, but the rubbing continued. Soon. The rubbing slowed, but went on. Today. The rubbing stopped abruptly. Sigh.
Snorting heavily, Byrith sat up, his eyes on the outside once again. “You intend to Chase ... her?” M’vorn breathed, not able to keep the surprise out of his voice. Byrith swished his tail sharply, but did not respond. It wasn’t that he was opposed to Byrith Chasing - not at all - it was just that... Well... Chasing could get odd sometimes, what with so many dragons all barreling headlong towards the same goal, crazed with lust, the competition maddening and even though he logically knew mating flights were supposed to be harmless, accidents could happen and he didn’t want to see his dearheart hurt. He would never tell Byrith not to Chase if that was what he wanted to do, being that the blue barely ever ventured out to Chase anyone, but... M’vorn just worried. Unnecessary, but true.
I like her, the blue offered timidly, his tail still swishing with a nervousness uncharacteristic of the dragon. He watched M’vornHis out of the corner of his eye, watched him put down the travel sack and bind back his long hair with one of those blue ribbons he was ever so fond of. “I understand.” Happiness! Of course His would understand, he reassured himself, wings lifting a bit in unabashed excitement. That was the nature of M’vornHis. See? It had been silly of him to get so worked up. He just hated the idea of being a burden, that was all.
Out of nowhere, a piercing screech reverberated through the canyon, signaling that the lady in question was up and about. Conscience now clear, Byrith was free to perch along the weyrledge, watching Calistoth glide over to the feeding grounds with that infinitely effortless grace which was so distinctively her own. Gazing after her, Byrith knew full and well that she was out of his league, but that didn’t stop him from swooping down from his own ledge, twisting his small form around like an acrobat, making a delicate landing upon the canyon wall, well away from the others who had gathered in wait. But of course they would wait. That was their place in the grand scheme of things, wasn’t it?
Oh, how shiny she was, so glowy, so lovely as she drank of the herdbeast blood... The ordinarily easily distracted Byrith was all business now, his intent gaze fixed upon the brilliant emerald Calistoth, jewel amid the shorn beastmeat. To all else, he was oblivious.
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Ruby
Shiny Hoarder
Jr.Weyrwoman Caden Bronzehandler Piden Bluerider M'kai Bluerider T'ri Greenrider Tenlie Greenhandler Serissa
Posts: 1,524
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Post by Ruby on Oct 6, 2008 3:39:36 GMT -5
C'le did NOT like gathers. He had been to only one before, held at Benden Hold. His foster parents at the time had taken him when he was about thirteen, and tried to force him into dancing with girls. He'd finally given in to the teasing and picked a partner, only to embarass himself horribly on the dance floor (it's not his strong point, to say the least). To make matters worse, it turned out that the partner was actually on a dare from some of the other Candidate boys, and kissed C'le right there in the middle of the crowd. The slight teen had shuddered and tried to push her away, but the girl had held on, prolonging the vicious laughter of the other boys. Honestly, to say that C'le did not like Gathers was an understatement.
So he was lounging in his Weyr, feeling despondant and abandoned. Not that he'd really been abandoned by anyone- C'le still found it very hard to socialize in such an open environment, and the few riders and flightmoths he'd "met" during flights hardly counted as aquaintences, much less friends. Enouth was on his ledge, looking ready again- a sign that someone was soon to Rise, and which immediately put C'le in a bad mood. This Weyr was supposed to be all open and free- so when on Pern were all the male greenriders? Even a male flightmoth would be nice, but it always seemed that the girls were closest. That always made C'le feel dirty, but there wasn't much he could do about it at the time. Flights were Flights, and he either had to get a Weyrmate or get over it. Neither seemed too likely.
So it was with a groan that C'le heard the Green's scream, as Enouth dumped himself off the ledge once again, returning the Green's cry with a thin wail of his own, not even bothering to alight on the ledges near the Feeding Grounds like the others had. She was too good for that- a Green that Blooded? Clearly she knew what she was getting in to, and Enouth knew he had his work cut out for him. Before Flightlust hit the pair entierly, however, Enouth sent a rogue thought winging back to His: You may like this one better, Mine.
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Post by missa on Oct 6, 2008 8:54:26 GMT -5
I really don't want to know what you're thinking, right? Naturally, Beka just had to ask. She just had to question the fact that Thoth wasn't commenting on absolutely every breath Kahrelir made. The blue was completely smitten, nearly as smitten as he always had been with Calistoth. Oh... Wait. If he wasn't commenting on Kahrelir... Calistoth will rise soon...
Despite being at a gather, Beka swore, though softly. Mentally, not so much, mentally, she was running through all the ways to keep Thoth from chasing. It hadn't worked last time, and look where that had gotten her! She'd admit, it wasn't half as bad as she'd feared. Not that she'd ever go through childbirth again, oh no, never. That was for other people to go through and for her to wince in sympathy at. For all that, she wasn't all that regretful. Kahrelir was her baby, and Beka already adored him to utter distraction. Though she did have to share with K'lir, that wasn't a hard ship, K'lir was her friend, and unfortunately the rider of the dragon who had gained Thoth's undying devotion. Servitude really, but Thoth was happy. She'd never seen him as happy as when he was following an order for Calistoth.
You tried to stop me last time. This time, I will not obey either. I will chase. And I will not lose without a fight. Thoth's voice was oddly stubborn, there was no question in his voice, absolutely none. There was just no arguing with him, though Beka refused - flatly - to go to Lir's weyr. She couldn't take Kahrelir there, and besides, there was no way she wanted to end up with another baby. That is not fair on Calistoth's. If I win, you need to be there too. And what would I do with Kahrelir? Hm? I'm sure Lir would be much happier if I didn't take my son with me.
Despite the snappy tone, Thoth chuckled. Returning to the weyr had been ever so smart, his wasn't right there, he couldn't feel guilty. This way, he was perched on his weyrledge, ready for Calistoth's movement, ready for her challenge. It would have been worse, had he still been with Beka and Kahrelir at the gather, though he was slightly worried. Anai would look after Theirs and the hatchling. No, he would not feel guilty for wanting to chase Calistoth. The moment she dropped from her ledge, Thoth pounced to his feet, up in a heartbeart.
Dropping from his own ledge easily, Thoth landed lightly, eyes fixed on Calistoth, he didn't need to blood. He never had before, he had enough energy to last for a very long time, let the other waste time, Thoth's only concern was Calistoth as he crooned softly to her, how lovely she was, flight glow or no, and she was his mate. He wouldn't lose her to some puffed up pansy of a bronze, brown, or blue. No, he was clearly the best here, hadn't he proved himself to her before? Even if His was annoyed, and didn't want to go to Lir's weyr, he was sure she would eventually, the hatchling would be cared for by someone else. All he cared about, was Calistoth, all else, even his Mine, faded in importance as he growled darkly at the other males. It wasn't that Calistoth was his, no it was the other way around, and Thoth was quite intent on keeping it that way.
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Post by glamourie on Oct 7, 2008 0:23:06 GMT -5
For the moment, Calistoth feigned being oblivious. She could feel their gazes the way a wild animal could feel the gaze of a predator, but she didn't mind. Not one little bit. Her tail lashed and she focused on the hot blood. Ignoring them - for the moment. There was a distinct whirl in her eyes, the hints of scarlet, that told of a definite viciousness to come. Even under normal circumstances, Calistoth was not a friendly dragon; she did not allow anyone close to her without her initiating the contact, and most of what she said did not qualify as kind or considerate by any stretch of the imagination. In fact, the term mean had often been coined to describe her and it fit. Flightlust only heightened the need to hurt, to mangle. She did not blood for energy or excitement; she blooded for sheer love of the sight of blood. She liked seeing things bleed, and it didn't have to be prey animals. There were other motivations, though -- she was as a queen; beautiful in her own right, and she deserved every bit as much acknowledgment.
She lifted her head. Eyes still whirling, Calistoth jerked away, putting a more respectable distance between herself and Corinth, though a low growl in the back of her throat was made as warning. Too close. Bad bronze; he was not welcome to be that close to her. But he was a bronze, and thus he was forgiven for recognizing that she was magnificent, she was glorious. Her gaze flicked to the second bronze to arrive and she watched him intensely, recognizing Rath for who he was. Her teeth dug into the herdbeast and she dragged it backwards, so that she had more space. Further away from the two bronzes. She was not done.
That sound -- she knew that sound. Without looking up, Calistoth recognized Jessereth's bellow. A hint of curiosity passed through her, along with irritation, and she flung the herdbeast up - up as far as it would go, in the general direction of the brown. Challenging. However, even as strong as she was, it missed him by a longshot. She hadn't intended injury, simply to get his attention.. and to let him know she did hear him. He was familiar. Her wings flared and she turned back to the bronzes before growling again. Backwards she moved, watching them; more came into her sight. Blues. First one she barely knew - he was at the coast, that pretty blue who's rider so fascinated Hers, whose pet so irritated the little monster. Then another, who she recognized as Enouth; he was older, he was new, and he was pretty. Blues, blues. How she liked her blues. The growl became steadily louder - but --
Why. Was. He. Late.
Thoth had snagged her gaze and she snarled in irritation, the blind rage catching her by surprise. He was late. He should have been with her the entire time, but he wasn't, he hadn't been on her ledge where her mate should have been. If he hoped to gain back his spot, he'd have work to do. She flapped her wings and then bugled loud enough for the entire Weyr to hear before taking to the air with powerful grace. If they wanted to catch her, they'd have to keep up, and she had quite the obstacle course in mind for them. She'd spied it through the eyes of Hers, her K'lir. The perfect test for which of them was worthy of her - although none would ever be truly good enough. A devious gleam flicked through her eyes, still whirling rapid shades of scarlet, and she turned in the direction of the jungle. If they wanted her, they'd better be willing to prove themselves against all odds. She was not a prize so easily claimed.
Backing up, K'lir pressed his back against the stone wall of the weyr and flicked his gaze around in confusion. He was not completely taken by Calistoth, though he could feel her take to the air. He was aware, though, of what was happening around him, and with a slight confusion, he recognized something was amiss. Two bronzes chased, but only one pretty bronze was in his weyr - only one. Jessereth chased; but no pretty brown lurked nearby. Thoth was there and Beka was not. Beka was at the Gather. He knew she was there. A delicious bronze and two lovely blues were with him - but where were the rest of his chasers? A slight hint of confusion and fear washed over him and he hoped, silently, that they were not at the Gather like Beka was. That would be bad.
The idea thrilled Calistoth beyond words. The gather indeed.
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Post by reqqy on Oct 7, 2008 8:58:00 GMT -5
The brown huffed mildly as the stupid bronze got too close. Blooding, and now crowding Calistoth? But when she turned to him, launching the herdbeast into the air, Jessereth growled softly. A gift! Of course, she wasn't nearly strong enough to get that herdbeast all the way up to him, but it clearly wasn't for anyone else. And, for all that it was impossible to get the carcass up that high, she'd still launched it farther than he would have guessed. Why not, though? Calistoth was an exquisitely evil creature. Why shouldn't she be able to throw a herdbeast higher and farther than any other green?
Well, who was he to turn down her gift?
The brown launched himself from the weyrledge just as the corpse was reaching the top of its arc, swooping down and plucking it from the air with deadly accuracy. He tacked his wings, going into a swift, tight turn, even as he sent Calistoth a wave of gratitude. His malicious compatriot was just gathering for her leap when Jessereth released the herdbeast on the most bothersome of his rivals with decided glee. Thank you for the ammunition, Lis, he told his green, with utmost sincerity, even as the corpse plummeted toward Rath. That aggravating bronze would have to give up his spot on the wall or take a hit from a dead heardbeast. The brown didn't wait to see which would happen.
No, he threw himself into the chase. He wanted Calistoth. Jessereth couldn't deny that. There was no other dragon in all the Weyr that exceeded him in pure malicious intent. But, truly, the desire to see what evils she worked against her chasers was just as much of an incentive as the possibility that he might end up twined with her. The only brown ignored the bronzes, ignored the blues and her former mate, and powered after her, taking the high road to give him some room to react should she pull a sudden turn. The jungle. A wave of excitement washed over him. What did his evil goddess have in mind this time?
The Flightlust had finally caught HinMine's attention. His anger beat against Jessereth, though it was quickly becoming consumed. The brown couldn't resist another cry, reveling in the chase. Calistoth would receive his gratitude at the end of this whole sequence, regardless of the outcome, simply for allowing him this chance to strike back at His.
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Post by missa on Oct 7, 2008 11:08:09 GMT -5
Thoth knew immediately she wasn't pleased, but he hadn't been sure, always a questioning dragon, the fact she'd been close to flight might have meant she wanted time alone, but that obviously hadn't been the case. Thoth wasn't one for excuses though, he merely crooned apologetically, dipping his head slightly. With Calistoth, he was happy to let her out rank him, though there was no way he would let the others win his green. The only one he allowed to push him around was Calistoth, and that was because she seemed to like being dominating.
Careful to keep his distance from his precious green, it didn't stop the growl her sent Jessereth's way, Calistoth, no matter how flattering that stupid brown was, was his. He would prove he could fly better than any of them, he'd prove himself, they'd be left behind in that venue, oh yes, Thoth was going to win Calistoth back and he was not going to anger her again.
In flight - or any other time really - Calistoth would not be an easy green to please, yet it was exactly this that had Thoth's devotion. Her fire, her spirit, the fact she wouldn't be beaten. She knew she was more worthy than a gold in the skies, she knew that no male was worhthy of her. Thoth completely agreed, he may have won her the last time, but it would take more to win her again. She was his mate, and his alone. Thoth wasn't an overly possessive dragon, but on the subject of Calistoth, the blue would not budge.
How best to Impress her though? To meekly follow, or show her what he could do? One would be more tiring than the other, and honestly, that would probably loose him points. He'd think, he'd follow, and do a few loops or rolls, or something. Something, he'd think of it when the time came. But not alot, it would be showing off, and Calistoth would hate that, to be shown up. Not that she could be, but if she thought they were trying? Thoth was pretty sure it would anger her. On the pro side, that might thin out the competitors.
Whirling eyes remained completely fixed on her, even as talons scraped at the earth beneath. He was eager to show her that he would follow where ever she pleased, he'd push himself and beat those bronzes, if it meant pulling muscles, gaining scratches from her? So be it, he'd happily take it all. Her call was echoed on a softer note, before he sprung up after her. No wasting time, he was not losing his green. Calistoth swung towards the jungle, and already, Thoth knew this was going to be hard. Well, he was still going to win.
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Avu
Weyrleader Ce'thian Rider A'emi Handler Sena Harper Matteo Weyrbrat Riaren
Posts: 2,439
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Post by Avu on Oct 7, 2008 16:02:19 GMT -5
Corinth raised his head from the herdbeast, crooning apologetically to Calistoth as he flicked his tail slightly at the other competitors. He had been first, no? That much was in his favor; surely she would see that? The bronze even bowed, almost deferentially, crouching to her beauty, his croon steady in his throat. See? He was the only one who had blooded like he would to a golden queen; he was the only one who had recognized how truly beautiful, how wonderful, she was—no other male had been astute enough to recognize that she ranked higher than any queen and therefore deserved to have her males blood, too, yes? The bronze didn’t glance over the other competitors—Calistoth had his eyes. (Besides, a vague memory of Reysalth still lingered; she hadn’t liked him growling at the others; surely Calistoth would appreciate his attention being wholly to her, too?)
He did feel that he had a right to watch as Calistoth threw the herdbeast that she’d been blooding at one of the males—Jessereth. Who promptly threw it at—Rath. The brown and bronze were acknowledged only by the tightening of muscles along Corinth’s legs and back; his neck arched even more, a sinuous curve; he flared his wings, his croon steady as he tilted his head, eyes moving along Calistoth’s body. She was so, so pretty. His nostrils flared as the blues—Enouth and Thoth, weren’t they?—arrived, although he couldn’t suppress the smug note in his croon when she snarled at Thoth. Ha! The bronze’s wings flared out as Calistoth rose into the air, heading for the jungle.
Oh, dear. What was it with greens and trees that so attracted the two together during a mating Flight? Corinth didn’t hesitate, though; he followed, flinging his body into the air and letting the wind fill his wings, pushing himself forward and up, his neck out and swaying before Calistoth like a snake before its charmer. She was pretty; she was his. He banked on one wing, falling slightly below her and in her peripheral vision if she cared to look. He was pretty and shiny, see him here? She should. Corinth had left off his crooning when he took to the air—he would save his breath for now—and he chose that moment, just as he dropped into his chosen spot, to call out to her, eyes flashing shades of purple, twined with deep violet blues.
He was there, with Calistoth. The young bronze’s gaze flickered around in slight confusion, taking in the number of people that surrounded him. One, two, and Calistoth. No, six. Six. Six competitors…six that wanted his Calistoth. His green…but they wouldn’t have her, of course; he wanted her and she was his. Right? Right…? He crooned softly, his throat barely vibrating at first, and then tightening in a higher, encouraging note. The jungle…his glazed eyes were flashing, seeing trees and then remembering the pain. And yet, his Calistoth was heading there. Oh, please, please, Calistoth, don’t go there…! It hurts. It hurts…he wasn’t sure if he was speaking aloud or simply thinking the words, though.
Calistoth was…backing up? No. Flying away. But…he took a step forward, legs moving without permission. She would acknowledge him, no? His pretty, glowing green would see him…?
((Ugh. xD;; Sorry for crappy post.))
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Post by neeuqtar on Oct 7, 2008 16:22:03 GMT -5
Rath didn't move from his sorta-sideways perch as Calistoth moved away. Winning was not the point. Chasing was, and he was blaring emotion along his link to R'non as much as possible. The green was fiesty, and he almost laughed aloud as she threw a herdbeast at his rival. But Jessereth's reaction was not amusing. No, the brown's reaction was an act of war. Rath braced himself, powerful neck snaking out and snatching the battered herdbeast from the air with a snarl. He launched moments before Calistoth, biting through the meat of the herdbeast and flinging it himself, down to the ground. His massive wingspan, greater than any brown's, quickly bought him altitude, bringing him higher than any of the others, though further back.
But that was his intention.
As Calistoth turned towards the jungle, Rath folded his wings into a shallow dive, powering down and forward. His speed brought him up to Jessereth rapidly, above and slightly to the right of the brown. Belling a war-cry, Rath feinted at Jessereth's wings, snapping and houghing near to the brown's neck in a warning attack, and spat out a mouthful of mangled herdbeast at the brown before flaring wings wide, rolling to the right in an evasive move and going for altitude, following Calistoth, though higher than her, snarling with enraged madness at the brown. How dare he. He would pay for his disrespect.
And then Rath would claim Calistoth for his own.
((o.x))
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Post by switchblade on Oct 8, 2008 13:18:26 GMT -5
I understand.
He’d said that, but... In all honesty, he didn’t know what he thought about the whole thing. Before the High Reaches abduction, he might have been a little more nervous about the intimate parts of Flights (he had been a Hold-born boy, after all). Obviously that kind of thing just didn’t bother him anymore. So then, why was his stomach doing flip-flops? Probably Byrith's anticipation catching up with him. Yes. That's it.
The lump which had been swirling around in his guts all along leaped unexpectedly with excitement, drowning out his own musings utterly. Calistoth had sent her kill flying in Jessereth’s general direction, the act perfectly endearing to the little blue. Byrith hummed his praises lightly. Oh, was she ever strong! He’d barely acknowledged where the meat had gone after she’d sent it soaring, though. After all, they weren’t the important one in this. She was. Calistoth - the only one who mattered. Muscles tensed, wings poised, the spirit of competition flying fancy free inside of him, Byrith’s eyes whirled deep hues of anticipation.
While getting into his “ready” pose, the vibrant blue could feel his lifemate’s racing thoughts. Built for speed - agility - not stamina - conserve energy - don’t show off... His was only trying to help and be supportive and he loved him eeeeeeendlessly for it, but he wasn’t silly. He knew all those things already. A reminder wasn’t necessary. Busy now.
Calistoth’s powerful bugle cut through the canyon, sharper than any knife. One would have to be deaf not to hear her call throughout the Weyr. Then she took to the air in such a display of simultaneous ferocity and elegance that Byrith could barely keep his longing in check. Like the others, he was airborne in the span of a heartbeat, giving Chase like there was no tomorrow. So fast, so free, so completely perfect... the emerald glow of her hide blazed through his vision, all but blinding him to the other dragons present. Other dragons? Nope. Don’t see them. Don’t care.
All was going swimmingly, (despite his lifemate’s careful cautions in the back of his mind, urging him to slow down and save his strength), up until the lovely lady Calistoth made a turn towards... the jungle?! She couldn’t be serious! ...could she? Panic! Granted, Byrith was small for a dragon, but he didn’t think even he could manage to... ooooooooh, was she ever good. Smart, strong AND gorgeous - what more could one ask for?
Alright then. On to business. Not about to stop now, Byrith twisted his endlessly nimble body to the side, drawing his wings close to avoid bumping into another Chaser (because those were there, too, though he’d taken to thinking of them as simply moving obstacles), determined to keep up, no matter what. So then, the jungle it was. M’vornHis gave him one last piece of advice, this time in strong feeling and remembered sensation rather than words - vines = bad.
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Post by glamourie on Oct 8, 2008 22:47:19 GMT -5
Through her peripheral vision, Calistoth caught sight of the herdbeast flying toward Rath and a smug sense of superiority passed over her. Challenge met. Good brown. She didn't respond to his words, though; she was quite effectively distracted. Half the point of throwing the herdbeast was to see what he would do with it - and he left nothing to be disappointed over. A low rumble rattled in her throat, but there were no words meant for him. Just because he'd met that challenge didn't mean that the bronze wouldn't retaliate - and when she cast a glance behind her, she found that Rath had every intention of doing so. Oh, goodie. If they fought, the winner would be the one more deserving of her. Not the loser. She would settle for nothing but the best, and she fully intended to give them all trials - a chance to prove themselves unworthy. Whoever failed would be scorned and cast aside like the worthless carcass that they were. She was Calistoth, the most beautiful green on all of Pern, so said her rider, and she deserved the most perfect mate of all. Worthy of her. Or at least worthy of her acknowledgment.
Over the trees she swept, flying fast. The jungle was thinning out rapidly beneath her, until the tallest, oldest trees remained, with dragonlengths between them. They scattered into an uneven clearing before a jagged rockface, and Calistoth caught sight of what she wanted. Forward she sped, though she could see behind her her chasers, her pretty, unworthy males.
Thoth was definitely not in her good graces, however. Not for anything he did, but she remembered the blind rage she felt at the idea of His trying to take her K'lir away by having a hatchling, and that angered propelled her. Some of that rage was not entirely her own. Her human counterpart was hurt - hurt that he hadn't been told sooner about the idea of a baby, hurt that he'd been among the last to know and found out not from Thoth's but Thoth himself through Calistoth. She always told Hers the truth. His anger kept her fast, two feelings of fury fast becoming one. They would all pay. Last time she Flew, Thoth's had kept such a secret from Hers, had used it to try to take her K'lir away. She would not give them another chance to hurt Hers that way. Not again.
Rath and Jessereth seemed to be busy. Suited her just fine. That gave her a chance to examine the three of her chasers she didn't know very well. One was Corinth, and she remembered him from Drills. She remembered landing near him and Salenth and getting no response from either of them, in fact. She also remembered that His impressed one of the little monster's hatchlings. But what was most vivid was the lack of response; she'd acknowledged him and gave him some of her attention and he'd repaid her by ignoring her. Now that she glowed she was good enough for him? And he'd been caught by Reysalth. She remembered, and her eyes whirled scarlet. Unlike some greens, the fact that he'd last caught Reysalth made him more appealing, and that he'd ignored her before both irritated and pleased her. The silly bronze thought she wasn't worth noticing but she still got his attention, didn't she? He could ignore her all he wanted, or try, but in the end, she still caught his eye. He'd have to repay her, though, for insulting her by not responding earlier. She snarled.
Enouth was unfamiliar, but he was a pretty, pretty blue. If he could keep up, he had a chance. He'd never offended her, and that meant he, by grace of luck, was not completely excluded from her view. It would take more than simply laying low to keep her focus, though. Similarly, she did not know Byrith well, though through the memory of Hers, she knew he was one of her clutchmates, and she knew he'd watched her from the coast. He was the only one of them all that had watched her. She remembered. But that did not improve her view of him any. In fact, a hint of irritation formed, partially by the need to prove she was by far the best. He would have to keep up as much as the others - and she was not going to make it easy!
Driving forward, Calistoth rapidly descended toward the trees as they continued to thin. Only two remained at the edge of a bend in the river, and she dropped down low enough to dart amongst the tree tops, forming an unusual S shape between the two trees before hanging to the right to follow the path of the river - the path right back toward the Weyr. She did so love her obstacle courses, and she hoped, snidely, that one of them tried to follow her path. She was big for a green, but it would take an impressive amount of agility to duplicate the darting around the trees that she did... even if it did dampen her speed some. If one of them made the mistake of flying into a tree trunk, it would be worth it to her.
One of the bronzes moved closer to him - the one that was there. Corinth. K'lir snarled visibly and backed up against the wall, ready to scratch and bite. His snarl was mimicked by Calistoth, meant only for Corinth. Stay back, his posture said without words; he was not ready to be caught and he wanted space - space between him and them. The fact that them was such a small number confused him, too. Where was his Jessereth? Where was his Thoth? And his Rath? Confusion painted itself over K'lir's face and he glanced around, before jumping up and over his bed. His feet moved without his guidance and against his better judgment and wishes, he half-jogged out of the weyr - out of his safety net. He had to find them. They were chasing but they were missing, that didn't make any sense. He knew where the should have been. Were they hiding from him? Why would they hide? Jessereth, Rath, Thoth~ His thoughts were musical, and K'lir half-skipped down the hallway, heading for the stairs. He'd start by looking for Rath. Surely he wouldn't keep hiding...? How could he hope to catch him if he was not there?
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Ruby
Shiny Hoarder
Jr.Weyrwoman Caden Bronzehandler Piden Bluerider M'kai Bluerider T'ri Greenrider Tenlie Greenhandler Serissa
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Post by Ruby on Oct 9, 2008 4:07:54 GMT -5
Enouth bore her scrutiny, dipping his head in deference as she looked him over. Calistoth... she was beautiful, and it took every ounce of Enouth's self-assurance to make him believe that he, drug-mangled as he was, was even allowed to compete for her perfection. But she seemed happy enough in her initial overview, and he took that to heart, answering her initial bugle with another insubstantial bugle of his own, trying to force all his normal confidence and caring into that one inadequate sound. She was worthy of his best, and he would do anything he could to prove that to her!
As she winged for the jungle, Enouth did a backflip of pleasure. She had picked agility to test her chasers on first! Agility was Enouth's best point. Without any visible muscle, and weighing next to nothing compared to any of the other chasers, the Blue, good-sized though he would have been, could pull off totally ridiculous feats of agility. In fact, the backflip didn't even put him behind, although he was far to the right of any of the other males. This was followed by a twisting roll of pleasure as Calistoth dove for a pair of trees- old trees, trees that wouldn't give if clipped by an errant wing. Screwing up his courage, Enouth dropped before any of the other chasers did, darting towards the trees ahead of them all. Only one at a time through this obstacle, that was for sure. Dropping even lower, he twisted sideways to soar between the trunks- Success! He had made it!- only to hit an unexpected current off the river that sent him tumbling away, into the jungle.
Enouth managed to right himself fairly quickly, although he clipped a large chunk of leaves of a nearby tree, and lost all the ground he had gained with his gutsy maneuver through the trees. Awkward, awkward! How could he have let that happen? Calistoth had had no trouble with it... but then again, it was possible that she had known, or that she was simply heavy enough not to be blown off course. So he found himself lengths above the canopy, watching the green beauty before him streak away along its length, leaving him behind. Too dangerous now, though, to join her- wrong. Enough needed to prove himself, that he knew. So, with a deep breath, he tucked his wings and dove once again, trusting gravity to pull him through the buffets of his competitors. It worked, for the most part- he was at river-level again, skimming the surface to throw up rainbows of droplets, below the dangerous wingbeats of his fellows. How long it would work, though, was the question.
C'le, on the ground, was having no such luck with confidence. Not that it mattered at all, but some part of his brain registered that the green in front of him was... well, a him. That had shattered C'le's ability to think for several key seconds upon entering the flightroom. He had stopped dumb in the doorway, overwhelmed by the sight before him- a man, a green-man, who was more beautiful than any woman could ever be to C'le. Something was just... right, where in the past it had been wrong. He had recovered, though, and moved to one side, mimicking Enouth's placement in the air. But- where was s/he going? Man-Calistoth was leaving! Unsure of what to do, C'le simply followed, loathe to let the object of all the love and affection he had ever felt leave his sight. Clearly, flight-lust had C'le deep in its grasp.
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