All references to worlds and characters based on Anne McCaffrey's fiction are copyright © Anne McCaffrey 1967,2000, all rights reserved, and used by permission of the author. The Dragonriders of Pern(r) is registered U.S. Patent and Trademark Office, by Anne McCaffrey, used here with permission. Use or reproduction without a license is strictly prohibited. For more information, visit the Worlds of Anne McCaffrey.
18-08-01: Daemith
Klari enters from the Weyr's bowl, outside. Hanneke looks as though she hasn't had a bath in days; her clothes...
Klari enters from the Weyr's bowl, outside.
Hanneke looks as though she hasn't had a bath in days; her clothes are crumpled, her face is slightly dirty, and she *smells*. Nonetheless, imperiously hoisted upon the edge of a table, she crosses her arms, surveying the world with queenly consideration.
Klari's been so busy with that darn pink weyr of hers that really, it's the only thing going on in her world, until now when she rediscovered the caverns. She leans against the wall just inside, arms crossed as she takes a look around and spots Hanneke and walks over, hopping up on the table across from the greenrider's view, "Hey Hanneke." Klari gives her a look over, not really sure yet if she should ask why she's dirty, or why she's not bouncing with joy. Though Klari does give a few sniffs.
Zureile makes her way over to the juice bar, nodding politely at the other occupants of th cavern. Well, she only nods at those she deems worthy of receiving one of her nods... a list which, obviously, does not include a short, rumpled, proddy greenrider. "Good morning, Klari." Her gaze skips around Hanneke. Hanneke? There's a Hanneke in here?
Kyla enters from the Weyr's bowl, outside.
--And why Hanneke is in black, too. There's always that anomaly. And yes, there is a Hanneke in there--there's just not a Zureile, in case anyone was wondering. "Greetings," murmurs this particular yes-no-there-not-there greenrider, shifting her gaze upon Klari for a moment, to glance, glare, and turn away. Insignificant.
Kyla wanders into the caverns with a lazy yawn. She's not the only one that's glad dawn drills are over for the time being. Weyrlings, weyrlings every where. A little nod of greeting as she heads for the klah pot, accompanied by a "Morning.."
Klari smiles over t'wards Zureile, just happy to not be covered in pink. "Good morning?" Klari shrugs though, being only slightly confused, "It has been so far at least. Though it isn't even dawn yet." Just give the day time. Something pink's bound to turn up, or down. A slight wave is sent Kyla's way before her attention goes back to Hanneke. Klari even goes to say something but figures it out all in time and just sighs, instead of talking. Isn't that a lot better?
D'las emerges from a tunnel at the back of the caverns.
Kyla glances over her shoulder at the bowl, klah mug in hand. "What?" she mutters before heading out.
L'zy enters from the Weyr's bowl, outside.
L'zy is chuckling lightly, as he enters the caverns. Seems Kyla was having a discussion over oiling with Niabeth, and was loosing. "Morning.." he greets with a jaw cracking yawn. "Klah hot?"
Hanneke shifts her shoulders, expression darkening with each passing moment--it's times like this when you *really* need to have something intelligent to say, which, evidently, Hanneke has not.
"What is with everyone saying 'morning?' Do they all want to wish me a good morning?" Klari sighs with a shake of her head as she lounges a bit on the table she's seated on, giving Hanneke another glance over, still biting her tongue to keep from even smiling at her, it just wouldn't be a good move.
Veryne> Bummth looks surprised that there is no green around. He /feels/ a green...he /wants/ a green..and shells, he /needs/ a green. With a confused bellow the plump brown lands on a herdbeast and rips it's head off. Has to be the beasts fault, cuz it's not his fault. Nope.
M'nam struts his way into the Living Caverns, alert and awake. Yup. Sound the alarm folks, here comes a morning person. He struts his way over to the klah--- yeah, M'nam's much too manly to just walk any place--- and pours himself a hefty-mugful. "Good morning," he bawls out seconds before Klari's comment, oblivious to the booming quality of his voice. He really missed out on his calling as a baritone Harper.
>> (Ista Weyr) Caeruleth awakes, with a flash of darkness, looming over morning sunshine, drenching angry ripples across all those who *dare* be within her reach. Heady scents -- cloves and narcissus -- drown out any words, as a roar of challenge is metted out--they'll not catch her. <<
Caeruleth> You spiral down to the ground.
L'zy is busy pouring his own mug of klah when he glances over his shoulder at Hanneke. "Oh.." he mutters before being nearly bowled over by the strutting rider. "Shells.. M'nam.." as he scoots backwards, attempting not to dribble klah down his front. "Careful already."
Caeruleth> Rojoth furls his wings as he lands, to settle gracefully in an empty spot.
Hanneke blinks --and one, and two, and a third--and lets out a dark cry. "No!" Talk about confusion: her gaze darkens, her hands clench into fists, and she sits up straighter than ever. "They won't *dare*!"
Caeruleth> Liorath's not about to be outdone. If Bummth's gonna start blooding, then so is he. He's been late on too many flights to be sitting around watching other males blood. Besides, the object of his newly aroused affections appeared to be making her way to the pens. He leaps suddenly into the air, folding his wings to drop on the nearest creature. Which happens to be a wherry, thankfully. Poor little wherry--- it never saw what was coming. Just a dark, looming shadow, a sense of terror, and then blissful nothingness. Well, that's what the spectators hope, at any rate. Liorath really doesn't care what the wherry felt; he's much too busy draining it of it's blood at the moment.
Caeruleth> Daemith makes his way over from the bowl in time to see Caeruleth land, he knew something was up. So without much real thought, her carefully chooses his first prey before pouncing upon it, slowly beginning to drain it's blood. It did die for the green after all, what's so wrong with that... right now?
Caeruleth> Rojoth comes in late like he has done so many times but he swoops down and snatches up a herdbeast ripping its throat open with his talons and draining the blood from the jugular or at least the area the jugular was in.
Caeruleth> Looming shadows mask Caeruleth's dark form, as glossied green dives for the security of the feeding grounds, her masked talons finding purchase with immediate glee in the soft burial chamber of a senseless wherry. Obfusticating her actions with a sweep of noctigivant wingsails, she feeds with whirling eyes: tearing shreds from her chosen meal as blood splatters, splotches, and flies into the glorious night of her glorious form. Viscera trail beneath forelimbs' purchase, as a push into cool air gathers her a second course, her trumpet of cool disgust making feelings evident at those nearby males.
Caeruleth> And there she is! The lovely of the moment. Bummth lets the now drained beast flop to the ground as he lets out a brassy bugle to greet her. Ah, but that was enough energy expending. Purple whirrling eyes never leave Caeruleth, as he reaches out to snag another beast. Whump, spine is cracked and his teeth sink into the plump flesh.
L'zy doesn't bugle, nope but he does start to watch the younger girl, curious at her outburst. "If they don't dare, she'll be proddy forever.." A slight shudder wracks his body at the thought.
Hanneke rises to her feet, smelling all the more for the rapid movement--someone really *hasn't* touched water for way too long--and makes a dash for the bowl. Suddenly alone, and distressed, she calls out, "You ate already, Caer--" Then a snarl, towards L'zy, as she hears his words. "Bite back those insignificant words, buster. I'll have none!"
Caeruleth> Daemith continues to drain his lifeless victim, eyes only taking movements when Caeruleth decides to and move along with her, definately not away. Though as soon as he finishes draining, immediately he tramples a second helpless beast, taking even more time to get the job done now.
M'nam casually backhands the klah away from his mustache, ignoring Bummth. Hey, if the guy can't get out of his way in time, then that's /his/ problem. Besides, he's much too interested in the sudden commotion from the greenrider in the corner. He pauses slightly to make a quick reference check with his dragon---yup. He's got a flight starting. Turning around to Bummth, he thrusts his mug of klah at him. "Here, take this." And with that he's off in Hanneke's direction, extending an oh-so-helpful hand in her direction. "Come on, sweetheart. Let's get you down to lower caverns, where I can show you what it's all about." He stops suddenly, although whether it's from her sudden outburst or her rather pungent scent he doesn't say. Maybe it's the fact that she's ran out of the living caverns, and he's extending his hand to an empty table. That could be it.
You walk out of the Living Caverns into the bowl.
You duck into one of the ground weyrs adjacent to the infirmary.
L'zy wanders in, klah mug still in hand. Hey no need to waste good klah. Absently he leans against the weyr wall, arms crossed as he watches Hanneke over the mug rim.
Exactly how Hanneke managed to make it here, rather than, say, under her old cot in the weyrling barracks, where she's safe, is beyond the question: she's here, she's quavering, and she's hiding under several blankets, just to make her look quite out of place in her black garb.
K'rill frowns quite considerably as he meanders in from the bowl, following prodding from his lifemate. Come to visit the boy, and look what happens. Rider reaches a hand up to itch at the back of his neck in a most confuzzled state. "Where is..." He trails off as gaze slips over to a quivering pile of blankets and eyebrows immediatly arch upwards, striving for his hairline. And thus a most educated, "Ohhhhh."
Klari wanders over to the far corner, away from everyone else. Might as well start out farther back, though her eyes still never leave the pile of Hanneke blankets. After a moment of just leaning against the wall she slides down to sit, which will aid her whenever part of her decides to move closer, if that happens.
Caeruleth> Liorath tosses the drained carcass aside with sudden distaste. Wherry? Why bother with wherries when one good herdbeast will do the trick? And herdbeast he gets, too, as he launches himself into the air with a violence. This time he grasps the bawling creature in his talons, gliding over near Caeruleth. Not too near, though. He's not green--get it? Green?--- when it comes to flights. He stills the frantic leapings of the herbeast with a vicious crack of its neck, latching onto its throat quickly. He bloods quickly and efficiently, whirling eyes fixed on Caeruelth the entire time.
Caeruleth> Rojoth continues to drain the large herdbeast he snatched from the pens, nice savory blood full of that which gives the dragon his energy for that which is to come. Finally the blood of this one is drained and he decides just a little more is needed so he snags up a wherry and quickly snaps its neck and begins to drain its life flow.
L'zy welcomes the Fortian with a nod and a mug-aimed point at the Hanneke blankets. "Weyrling, first flight and all that." He then goes back to his own deliberate staring, punctuated by random slurps of klah.
Caeruleth> Llynth swings in low over the bowl, belly coming ticklingly close to the ground as he swoops. Wings angle, allowing the dragon to lift over the fenses of the pens with but a hand-spand or two to spare. Yep, Llynth might need to loose a little weight. Lucky boy that he is, the dragon immediatly comes nearly face-to-face with a bovine. That animal caught in the headlights *or dragon-sight* look, and **CRUNCH**. Talons rend into the animal momens before the dragon collapses entirely upon his meal, shredding and draining with all due expertise.
Caeruleth> Caeruleth gathers wingsails into her, diving through the feeding grounds to separate head from body, body from intenstines, blood from within. Trumpeting her disgust at those insignificant *males* that deign to enter within her svelte presence, her darkness deepening ambiance to heightened shadows--regardless of the morning sun. Blood splatters in messy rivulets about pens' untidy form, herds bellowing their disgust as she takes her chosen beasts, draining them with the grace of heightened sensuousness.
Hanneke's not here. She's not listening. She's not--proddy, either. And Caeruleth isn't rising. Whimpering, but interrupting it to scowl at anyone who gets near, she attempts to curl up, although her knee-length boots make it more difficult. "I am *not* a weyrling, and do not care to--" completion doesn't come: too busy, hiding her face. And she probably is a weyrling still, anyway.
K'rill eyebrows arches some more as he peers to the blankets. Yet another illuminated comment, "Ahhhhh." Been there, done that. We won't go into how many times or anything. The blankets speak, or at least that which is within. Better to just agree in a vague sort of sense, "Absolutly, miss..."
Caeruleth> Bummth is pulled from his own pre-flight snack as he watches the macilent form drive the remaining herds into a frenzy. A low warble expresses his own enjoyment of Caeruleth's display. Crimson shower bathes his dark brown body, disappearing into his own mottled form before he hops and then dives into the neighboring pen, filled with wherries. One is snagged and vigorously shaken, till it's neck snaps, before back talons rake the feathered body, opening a copious flow of blow for him to lap at with long forked tongue.
M'nam marches straight over to the quivering pile of blankets, hooking his thumb in the waistline of his pants in his customary I'm-waiting-for-my-dragon-to-catch flight pose. He's got all the bases covered-- he's near the bed, so he can avoid that whole last-minutes-of-the-flight scooching in business. Besides, his dragon's gonna win, so he might as well hover around his prize. "Hey babe, you don't need to hide down there," he says, his mustache twitching with his suddenly arrogant smile. He doesn't even acknowledge the arrival of K'rill. Or anyone else but Hanneke, for that matter. No, he'll just loom by her side, and stare down at her with hot little eyes. "You don't need to worry, Papa M'nam is here."
Caeruleth> Llynth lifts his blooded maw, slurping down a bit of intestine as if it were so much a long, thin noodle. Yumm. Lip smaking good -only dragons don't really have that much to say for lips. Instead, the bronze gugrles, lifting wings from sheltering his kill from the eyes of others. Neck extends, head tilts high. Bronze side-steps away from the rended carcass, leaving it to the insects. Tongue darts out, rimming along his mouth to lap up the last of the red stains.
Caeruleth> Daemith's own self seemingly darkens as he sees the herd try and scatter, letting out a rather deep chuckle. His eyes drift from the green a ways to pick one from the herd before they return, whirling a deep violet as he flings himself upon the chosen one, playing with it for a moment or so but does get down to buisness.
L'zy bristles noticeably at M'nam's declaration. "Move your sharding ass away from M'nam. If the lass takes a swing at you, I'm betting you'll hit the floot." Now, that sounds like a good idea. "I'll put a mark on Hanneke.." he offers to K'rill.
From /her/ that is, M'nam.
Hanneke's head ducks out from the covers, sharp teething moving over as if to bite at M'nam's leg--but, evidently, some trace of Hanneke remains, and she pulls back. "Go away." As in, now.
K'rill eyes M'nam, glances to the blankets, and then L'zy. Flights. Gotta luv them. Hand reaches up once more to scritch along the line of his jaw, watching all and letting it play out. Except for the part-time AWLM's commentary, "Now, now, boys..." No matter they are prolly older than he.
Caeruleth> A trellisway of blood fantasies Caeruleth's prophetic meal: strips of bloodless carcass making pleasant messes beneath the purchase of limbs lurking upon the feeding grounds floor. Caliginous shadows bathe hide's darkness in sooty caress, brightened only by a polish from deep beneath, shuddering against muscled mien as glorious green pushes off for the starscapes above, the puzzle pieces of her meal's progress raining beneath her as she reaches for freedom--they'll have no piece of her, nor touch, nor smell.
Caeruleth> You bunch your muscles and leap into the air.
Caeruleth> Daemith streaks up from the pens below, wings carrying his high into the air.
Caeruleth> Liorath streaks up from the pens below, wings carrying his high into the air.
Caeruleth> Bummth streaks up from the pens below, wings carrying his high into the air.
Caeruleth> Llynth streaks up from the pens below, wings carrying his high into the air.
Caeruleth> Daemith's obviously left his victims on the ground after pushing off after Caeruleth, after all the green has become terribly more important than some torn and lifeless beast. Graceful, yet powerful wings steadily make Daemith's move upward to follow the green's path.
M'nam snorts at L'zy's comments. Someone refuse M'nam? M'nam, M'nam, stronger than a herdbeast, but gentle as lamb? Epitome of manliness and muscle? See, M'nam has muscle, he just likes to keep it safe with a thick, protective layer of fat. But what L'zy's words fail to accomplish, Hanneke's sudden flash of teeth does. He takes a few worried steps back, throwing a quelling glance in the direction of L'zy and K'rill. No comments from the peanut-galleries. M'nam's busy seducing. "Now honey, there's no reason to act like that. You just come out from your hiding place, and I'll show you the true definition of a good time." His words aren't quite as smooth as they were before as the here-and-now of the flight begins to swallow him.
Caeruleth> Bummth isn't sure he wants a piece of the mellifluous green, only perhaps the caress of her tail. Squat body, the color of toasted almonds, seems to elongate and shift as he enters the air. Seems he is much more comfortable here, but there is where he wants yearns to be. There..with her. Bugle rings in answer to her challenge, though it wanes and is reinvented into a soft croon. Guile and cunning are more the tools needed to woo this lovely.
Caeruleth> Llynth tenses as the green takes to the air. Haunches bunch, wings unfurl to rest at a jagged position, while head turns with her progress. Talons clench into the earth for a moment. Wait for it... Wait for it... Now! Dragon unleashes, roseate shimmers dance up and down his form as he leaps to the air, wings cup, and that all, important downthrust pushes him ever after and ever more. Size and might echo in the every push of his wings. Power has he... agility is a big no. Body works to gain upon her.
Klari finally gets up from her seat, feeling a tad bit anti-social and all. With an oddly graceful stride, Klari nears the gathered men and Hanneke, or the talking and snapping blankets. Her once so gentle gaze is hidden by her slightly lowered brow and squinted blues, "You know it's going to happen, you'll come out sooner or later."
There's more teeth where those came for--and this time, Hanneke probably wouldn't be afraid to use them. "No. No, no, no. You'll want to see me naked!" And there's nothing more nervewracking for a butterball of a babe -- ahem -- than being naked, and fat. "I think you *all* should go away. Even you Klari, because you're wrong!"
Caeruleth> Liorath's ready and waiting for the green's departure, this time. All it took was a little careful planning, and a following of Bummth's lead. Rich brown wings pump the air as he strives to stay close, talons raking thick furrows in the dirt of the pens with his powerful leap. Eyes whirling a violent shade of purple, he hisses a warning at too-near blue. Get outta his way, he's got a date with that tasty green dish he sees in front of them.
L'zy growls under his breath at the ignorant and demanding bronze rider. "I /said/ get away from her." Mug now becomes an airborne missle as he wings it a him. "NOW." Seems someone is getting testy, after all she is /his/ 'ling, hasn't M'nam read the fine print?
Caeruleth> No sun, no moon; it is Caeruleth that rises, seeking refuge within the clouds that move to cover daytime's skies, hiding away from those that seek to take what is hers. Fleeing sun's caress, in whatsoever form it might come, bursts of energy carry her high into the tropical sky, thermals bearing her into the depths of powder saturated scapes. She is not sun, and she is not jewel: she is darkness, she is shadow, carrying angry burden to secret's end, lashing out in bellows of disgust at those who dare--who *dare*--to congest her path.
K'rill leans back casually against the wall, pushing his shoulder against it while arms are crossed over his chest. See that... the exotic Fortian fruit is over here. Ripe for the plucking. *cough* Tongue clucks once while he watches the others from off to the side, shadows and light playing over his stocky form.
Caeruleth> Llynth shreds the thermals that slip across the expanse of the bowl, leaving a wake of sundered currents behind him. Wings lift, gathering the wind under his sails and then pushing down, urging it away to gain distance and advantage. Glimmery greens inbue his verimillion-lilted eyes, 'til she disappears into the mists and clouds. Silvery-greys caresses his pink-dressed bronze while he slides through and beyond, leaving the humid condensation tickle across his form, turning droplets to rivulets that cascade along his hide.
Caeruleth> Daemith dares is who. Such a blue would never chase after a sun, moon or any other thing that he already knows will never actually set, just keeping rising endlessly. Though such shadows spoken of do set, maybe not so easily but there comes a time when even darkness has to be taken care of. Though the question on Daemith's mind is not whether or not this shadow will set soon, it's more of is this his shadow that he will eventually posess?
Caeruleth> Celestial being she may mimic, but Bummth would like to call Caeruleth to more corporeal demands. Large wings fill with air, as he strives to stay close to the dark star without getting burnt, which is proving to be a rather impressive quandry. He dares! He dares, as the ichor pumps through his body, fueling it for this endeavor.
Klari shakes her head slowly at Hanneke before kneeling now with a sigh, "I'm not wrong Hanneke, we both know it. Everything tires after so long." Leathered arms cross loosely as she scoots back slightly on her knees, trying to make sure she's out of Hanneke's snapping distance.
Caeruleth> Liorath could care less if Caeruleth was the color of the Red Star--- all he cares about it getting a little closer. Night? Day? Liorath probably couldn't even tell you his sire's hide color--- all he knows is that Caeruelth's rising, and he must follow. His tail whips side to side with his eagerness, his amber wings flaring as he pumps them. Flap, wings, flap!
Caeruleth> Caeruleth's straight rise will do her disservice, and in her inexperience still, she knows this instinctively, diving towards the starstones, her hide catching for the briefest of moments in the light of the sun that peaks through so high above--lost within clouds that might bring rain, but also cover, cloaking her in her radiant darkness. Lithe, small form carries her about the star stones, weaving through the edges of the bowl's walls, gliding higher once more as freedom's sweetness beacons, and capture is evaded, avoided, dissuaded. She'll not be taken, not Caeruleth.
M'nam's just innocently trying to corrupt the weyrling under the covers, but nooooo. L'zy has to go and throw his mug at his head. Which, by the way, it hits. "Ow!" He reaches and grips the side of his head with one hand, pointing the other accusingly at the brownrider. "You keep out of this. I don't see your stamp on her anywhere." He returns his attention to Hanneke. "Honey, you don't worry about the rest of them. All you have to worry about is me... and babe, I'm man enough to take care of all your worries." He'd jut out his chest, but considering the fact that his stomach sticks out twice as far, the effort probably wouldn't be noticed.
Caeruleth> Llynth allows his size to aid him. Dragon crests, hangs, and then plummets, wings folding close to this body as he stoops. Gravity has its way with the bronze, drawing him ever closer to the earthly bounds, tantalizing the dragon with 'what if's. A breath... two... and the becon that is Caeruleth calls once more, tickling him in all the right places -set to deny the ground his essence. LLynth brings wings to bare, spars snapping and sails growing taut with the pressures and pleasures inherent. 'Stones are caressed with his shadow, but nothing more, the rest is for the green.
Caeruleth> Daemith continues on his rise after Caeruleth, naturally. What else would he do? Give up? Giving up won't do. If Thread were to fall again, would everyone just give up and let it be? Of course not, it's a fight and a fight that Daemith must force through 'til the end, through the clouds, star stone, where ever Caeruleth chooses to flow, the blue will be close behind.
"You *are* wrong," insists Hanneke, although she doesn't sound so very convincing. Tartly, with more push, she belts out--"I don't see *your* stamp on me, either, M'nam!" Teeth are barred, nastily.
Caeruleth> Bummth lets gravity drag his body down as he plummets after the dark hide before him. With a whisp and a whistle he is through the clouds and darting past the star stones. Slowly he pulls from the bowl's beckon, not being able to keep up with Caeruleth's antics. Time has taught him another trick; patience. Square form glides slowly on a thermal, taking a bet the green will return to the call of the sky. Large wing sails are filled as he laboriously rises again, pulling from the pack and hoping to cut the chases short as green's path is taken up once again.
L'zy has no idea how this pile of fat and flesh has ever come to be called a rider. "There is no stamp on her, M'nam, so don't worry about checking on it. As for man enough, you'd most likely smother the girl! Back off! She's confused enough as is!" And hungry or something. What /is/ it with those teeth?
K'rill remains well and off to the side, allowing the others to continue their arguement. Bronzer darts a glance to Klari, eyes crinkling in the corners with amusement at the scene. That Weyrling won't forget her first flight, thats for sure. And so, he continues to press his side against the wall, looking all kinds of comfortable and amused... and predator at bay.
Klari scoots a slight bit closer on her knees, closer to Hanneke that is. "You'll see, Hanneke. Not now, but you'll see. It always happens." Klari speaks softly, her gaze never leaving the blankets, never venturing from the path into the dark forest... Or to look at any of the males, they just simply aren't there.
Caeruleth> Liorath really wouldn't mind the chase portion of the flight so much, except that the greens usually had the nasty habit of moving around so much, and not going where he wanted them to. And Caeruleth is no exception. Folding his wings he follows her dive, taut brown body streamlined as he does his best to let gravity take over. Pulling out of the dive at the critical moment, his wings snap taut as they fill with air, muscles bunching and playing under his hide as he strains to change his downward momentum. He does it, too, even managing to take some of his forward momentum and use it on his upward climb. She can run, but she can't hide....
Caeruleth> Wingsails flair to take their fill of cool air, propelling lofty Caeruleth into their embrace of height and energy, speeding her along her unseen path, first up, then down, then weaving through and through her gathered skies. They dare too much, these insignificant males, whose path is avoided with dexterious ease, her delight in speed only now developing in innate belief. Hurtling downwards, her wings furled in to speed her approach, for a moment she appears to brush against the ground, though not the water, her path steering ever clear from that ancient adversary. Battle cries of alto'd rumbles contest their presence, as she, the lofty darkness, rises over the weyr in triumphant resonation.
Hanneke's teeth show up again towards Klari: there's no escape for that bluerider, either. "Go away!" Hungry--but not for any of them.
Caeruleth> Down again seems to be the call to order, so Bummth ever willingly complies, after all the down part is easy. Body is lowered slower than Caeruleth as he becomes a tad hesitant. Yes the green is lovely, but crashing into the ground wouldn't help his cause, now would it. Talons drag lightly across the bowl floor, rivulets of dust dancing in his wake. Soon, soon, she will be his. He is certain and driven as he calls out lovingly to her.
M'nam's a rider because Liorath had the incredible sense to recognize the intelligence, charisma, charm, and studliness that makes up M'nam. Or so the brownrider likes to think. He chuckles at Hanneke's outburst in a condescending, irritating sort of way. "Now sugar-lips, I don't claim to have a stamp on you. But you just come on out of there, and I'll..." he breaks off at L'zy's outburst, head tilting to allow him to glare appropriately at the other rider. Hmph. He's just jealous because he's half the rider M'nam is. Probably literally, too. "I'm not confusing her, I'm setting her straight. I don't want to see the poor thing end up with anything less than the best." And there's little doubt who he believes that is.
Caeruleth> Insignificant Daemith may very well be, but any more than all the others? He thinks not. And insignificant or not, Daemith wants to know the true beauty of her dark ways, her path that seems so random to him. Is it the key Caeruleth? Maybe not, but the blue won't take that risk. It just seems to precious, the diving, climbing, nearly touching the ground. Is he the only one that see it? He may hope so, but never do his eyes in their whirl change pattern which consists of the green, that darkly touched green.
L'zy unfortunately doesn't have anything else to fling at the greasy face of M'nam, so he settles on insults instead. "Then thank you for trying to get her comfortable for me, but I fear you are only upsetting her more. As for the best, Bummth is taking care of that."
Caeruleth> Llynth remains well and aloft, knowing full well that those twisty-turny moves will be his utter downfall. Power continues to tickle along his lines, held close and barely restrained. Echoes of need trace every thrust of his wings, enraputre the lashing line of his tail, caress the undulations of his throat as a bugle of demand is voiced. Fractured sunlight, sundered by the clouds, brindle his form, playing peek-a-boo across wing's wide canopy and illuminating sunset's permanent glow upon his 'ridges. A calculating eye remains possessed by the youthful green... ever watchful for the moment.
Klari isn't trying to escape, nor does she wish to anymore. "I'll go away after you come out from under those blankets and truely see it, Hanneke." A shake of Klari's head is barely noticable but it's there, "I just can't go away."
K'rill's eyebrows strive for his hairline once more, this time at M'nam's words. He mouths, "Sugar-lips", in disbelief. Then promplty bites his bottom lip to keep close any chuckles at the rider's expense. The prattling continues, beginning to edge on his head. He really didn't want a headache at the end of this. Blanket-cowering Henneke is eyed, head shaking from side to side. Too many bodies closing in... and here he is, well and away. Its taking a mighty strong leash to keep him back this long... a leash apt to snap any moment now.
Caeruleth> Liorath can go down. Really, he can. And he prefers it to going up, too. Wings folded tightly against his side, he arches sideways and begins to hurtle toward the ground. He pulls up in time, sacrificing that last bit of speed in order to keep from getting splattered on the weyr below. Hey, he likes the chase, but turning himself into a dragon-omelette on the ground was not part of his plans. His bugle rises to meet hers, the strong baritone flowing in counterpoint to the rich alto as he strains after the agile greens. What he lacks in speed or agility he more than makes up for in patience, his wings beating the air in a steady rhythm, tail still twitching in time.
"You can, too!" bullies Hanneke, nodding her head rapidly through the blankets. "It's very easy!-- I don't have sugar lips, either. I have normal, normal lips that no one needs to look at, or touch."
Caeruleth> Adumbrate green must rise higher, and higher still: she must reach beyond the stars, into the blackness that must be out there, where the sun cannot shine, and these *males* cannot seek her. Noctivagous hide gleams ever moreso as her wings outstretch, gathering in the winds and breezes with obsessive composure, her trumpeted disgust made ever evident about Ista's tropical skies. Sauve qui peut! Away, begone! Eschewing the contraints of the bowl, Caeruleth darts over, above -- for a moment -- the water, but turning back, turning away--turning too close for comfort. She cannot be caught, can she?
"Then you can get up, right Hanneke?" Klari never raises her voice, at least not now. Why upset the rider when she's already upset as it is? Klari won't ever understand what it is to have to go through her lifemate rising, but that doesn't mean she shouldn't care... right? Okay, well she doesn't care really about how Hanneke feels right now about her dragon, but it sure might seem like it. "I'll go away when it's over."
M'nam's too caught up in his link with is dragon to respond to L'zy's jibes right away. When he does, it's only with a snort of disbelief, and nothing more. It's obvious to anyone with eyes who the best is. Besides, he's got bigger fish to fry... or rather, smellier lust-intrests to deal with. "Sweet cheeks, I'll show you what your lips are made out of. I'll show you lots of things. You just keep ignoring those other riders, they're not anything but trouble for you." He waggles his eyebrows meaningfully.
Caeruleth> So higher he soars, still with his same graceful tone. Daemith hasn't the faintest idea where he's been, nor when, nor even how long ago he may have flown through a place. What he does know is that Caeruleth has, to him, somehow captured a part of him. Maybe it's just his gaze that remains locked on the green, studying her every move. Such a dark shadow yet he oddly admires it as if it were that of his very own.
Caeruleth> Llynth knew she would come to him. It was inevitable. It was also bronze ego, no matter how tarnished his armor will be after all is said and done. Bronze glides along the thremals, allowing them to tickle under his wings, warming his skin with their elusive, tropical scents of flowers, salt, sand... and something more. Body banks, allowing port-side fingersail to sketch a line in the winds, cutting with a silvery streak and bringing him along her wake with the ease of experience and the goading of possession. With embers smoldering deep, pinions arch and thrust, fanning the flames of desire and casting fiery glints to illuminate his set a'whirl orbs. If only to kindle the spirt in another...
Caeruleth> Liorath will need to have a little more discouragement to give up the flight. It's gonna take seeing one of those other dragons wrapped around her darkened form. Until then, the brown will chase, regardless of the consequences. Or perhaps because of the consequences. His angular body taking wider turns than the green, there's little he can do about that. What he can do is try to plan ahead, which he does by gaining a little altitude as well as proximity with the next series of wingbeats, his body outlined against the sky as he struggles to keep up with the tight twists and turns.
K'rill manages to keep himself off to the shadows still, the odd murmuring under his breath to guide his lifemate. Continued guidance issues forth with a low voice, tripped with nuance and assurance, "Just let her take you, miss..." Some might consider it corny, others might think its just a bronzer trying to get into a greenie's pants -okay, so its a bit of both. But there is more -there is always more.
Caeruleth> Caeruleth's magnificance wanes, as a slipping wing causes a falter--and she dives upwards, attempting to reclaim her dignity, her freedom, only to slip up once more. Weary visage gathers about her, as she strains for freedom, nonetheless falling once more, through the gathered males that she despises so--will they never leave her alone?
Hanneke delves further into her blankets, ignoring the talk from those around her: because she doesn't want to hear it. "Caeruleth, stop it!" The green is falling, but Hanneke's not ready to give up. "No!" Muffled words are shrill and high, hysterical.
Caeruleth> Daemith sees the shadow's falter of a wing and slows his race before dropping down after her, moving down to Caeruleth, carefully trying to get his tail out in that one spot where he'll be able to set with this precious shadow and help to see that it sets properly into that dark forest that lingers to close if he could only reach in time for it would appear that this shadow hasn't all that much longer.
Caeruleth> Liorath's no fool--- he sees that faltering of wings, the weary look to the green, and knows that it's now or never. And if Caeruleth thought he was going to give up just when he's getting close, she had another thing coming. Taking the little altitude he's gained, he folds his wings and dives. He's faster than a diving firelizard! Able to catch young greenies with a single tail! It's a brown, it's a dragon... it's Liorath! Speed increasing with his forward dive, the brown's tail is twitching in earnest now he struggles to catch her unawares. Oooh, almost there.....
Klari remains silent and closes her eyes softly, focusing on Daemith. Saying something to Hanneke right now may not even be heard through everything going on in the greenrider's mind. But Klari did tell her one of them would catch Caeruleth, though who remains yet to be told.
Caeruleth> Llynth dips as she rises, mirroring her move with a precision that one wouldn't normally account to a dragon so large. Twilight's ever-present glimmer echoes along his hide, glossing fine and then waning as he turns about, bringing the purples and pinks that posssess his hide into twinkles as sun's ray slides across him. Pinions furl as he maneuvers around, spars folding close and winghooks coming nigh to shoulders. Tempting gravity once more, he denies once again, to slide under the shadow-swathed green upon the breath of a gasp. A hiccup of momentum 'til body twists to meet her, possess, and sunder -only to pick up the pieces anew.
M'nam, for the first time in the entire flight, falls silent. By the First Egg.... quick! Everyone revel in the moment! He jerks his thumb out of the waistline of his pants, both hands falling heavily to his side as his fingers twitch unsteadily. Hazel eyes stare right through Hanneke, only the side of his mustache twitching with his impatience.
Caeruleth> Caeruleth, with her last bursts of energy, pushes past Llynth, ducking beneath his bulk with her far smaller size, seeking freedom--she has, it she has it! Whoops, there's Liorath, whose brown form is equally evaded, as she barrel rolls in desperation, catching a glimpse of freedom, of freedom, of--Daemith? Where'd he come from?
K'rill pauses for a breath, frowning mightily and looking quite serious for a very long moment. A muttered curse under his breath while he continues to lean against the wall. Tension is rife..."Aw... crackdust." Okay, that time it actually came out. Sorry Llynth.
M'nam registers the flight's conclusion with a look of distaste. Oh, for pity's sake... Eyes turn to glare at Klari briefly, then snap back to focus on Hanneke. Sheesh, feed a woman all the lines you've got, and see where it gets you. Yeah? Well he didnt want her anyways. Turning about huffily, he struts his way out of side door of the infirmary. Faranth help the next female he runs into, too.
Hanneke's head snakes up out of the pillows, her kercheif falling down about her neck as she gasps, watching Klari in a whole new way--well, this should be interesting.
Caeruleth> Liorath's bugle of triumph turns into one of dismay. He had her! He had her, caught right in his eager grasp! What happened? Unwilling to stick around and watch the entwined pair, he turns to the side and begins to make his way back to the weyr.
Caeruleth> Llynth darts daringly in the direction of the Bowl. Central bowl.
Klari's eyes open wide at Hanneke, they would prob'ly even whirl if they could. She doesn't get up from her knees, though her jaw does shake a bit. In shock? No... But Hanneke sure is beautiful. Though after a moment she moves in closer to Hanneke and ... *Censored for rule number three and such.*
Caeruleth> Liorath soars into the air, floating gently on the air before winking out of sight as he goes ::between::
[Some time later]
Hanneke's asleep. Soundly so. She snores, when she's lying on her back, and that's what she's doing--naked, except for her knee-length boots, which somehow didn't make it off earlier. The covers have fallen away, leaving her entirely exposed, with her kerchief half choking her about the neck.
Klari's trying to sleep but darnit, someone's snoring. Isn't she in her weyr? Well, she keeps her eyes closed for now, still basically asleep but she is still a rather light sleeper, even lighter in a different sense considering she's completely bare and blanketless as well. She absently reaches down to try and find covers, grumbling as she finds... nothing but a leg.... Leg? Klari slowly opens her eyes and looks at Hanneke before letting them droop shut again. Of course they spring back open and Klari gives out a rather high-pitched scream and tumbles backwards out of the cot, trying to cover herself whispering softly, "Don't wake up, don't..." But she did scream.
A scream: what a morning wake up call. Hanneke jumps, physically, her high heeled boots pounding into the bed, and making it wobble rather beautifully. Hey, she's naked. Hey, she's not alone. Hey, that's--"Klari! What are you doing here? Why are you here, I don't want you here!" Where are the covers--can't let anyone see her over rounded belly.
"Why are *you* here?!" Klari sure has a raised voice now and moves to cover her eyes, forgetting all about the fact that she's way past flashing Hanneke, "I don't want *you* here! Shards! I don't even want to be here! Get out, get out!!" Her voice stays mainly high-pitched, did anyone ever know it could be? Normally so soft but yeah, it's happening. "Cover yourself, Hanneke!"
"I was here first!" Basically, true. But... "I don't want you here, either. Go away!" Hanneke forgets to cover herself properly for a moment, simply staring at her clutchmate, then yelping, and diving for her covers, flashing entirely--although, yes, it is too late. "Where are my clothes? You stole my clothes, didn't you?"
Klari looks around frantically for something to cover herself with that's near by. Klari's not modest, but she woke up next to Hanneke! "But you stole mine! Hanneke, this isn't funny. I want my clothes!" Klari sees a blanket hanging off the end of the cot and moves quickly to jerk it off and cover herself, "Shells! What's going on?!" She's starting to realize but doesn't want to.
Hanneke, with furs wrapped about her, and trailing behind her, comes across a torn pair of breeches upon the ground -- black, like what she was wearing...before -- and yelps. "You tore them. You--you're horrible, Klari, and I *hate* you. You *made* me come in here, and do nasty, nasty things."
Klari stands and wraps the blanket around her a couple of times tightly so that it won't fall off, "Me!?! You're the one with the black boots! And at least you *found* something of yours." Klari takes another look around, "You purposely got rid of them while I was sleeping! You... you... You smokeless *weyrling!*" Klari's eyes actually start to water as she says this all though.
Hanneke blinks at Klari, eyes filling with tears, a sob escaping from deep within. "I didn't! I don't remember. Klari, I don't remember! Caer--Caer!" Realisation sinks in, and she collapses into a seated bundle, her legs stretched out in front of her, since it's hard to bend below the knees. "I didn't touch your clothes." But she has none, herself, now.
Klari bursts into tears and closes her eyes, falling to the floor as well, only on her knees and hands going up to her face. "I know you didn't." Her voice softens and shakes as she looks around again for clothes before bursting into tears again, "Hanneke I'm so sorry, Daemith just... just... you know??" Klari sniffles a bit, wiping tears steadily, "Shardit, Daemith... Shut up!"
Hanneke notably manages to wrap the furs around her very, very carefully before responding to Klari, tears making long rivulets down her face. "I'm sorry, too! Caeruleth shouldn't--didn't--I didn't *know*." Else she would have escaped while she could. "What're we going to do, Klari?"
Klari gives up finally on wiping her tears away, still shaking in her blanket as she continues to look around for actual clothes. "I don't *know,* Hanneke... Find clothes? How'm I supposed to know everything?" Caeruleth's first flight, Daemith's first catch. Seeee.
Hanneke's face is getting blotchy very quickly--"We could run, really, really fast? To our dragons. And no one would see us." Else, they'll have to stay barricaded in here for ever. Or at least until they were old enough not to care. "You should know more than me!" Because everyone does. Apparently.
Klari nods quickly and manages to get up to her feet, "Th... that sounds like a good idea, running and all. Nothing else to really do." Klari wrinkles her brow at Hanneke and sniffles, "Why should I know more than you?" Klari pulls the blanket a bit tighter around herself and brushes curls out of her tears. "Before we run. I don't hate you." Neither is she pleased with the other rider or herself... Not even with Daemith for that matter, darn him.
"Running," agrees Hanneke, nodding. "I can run!" Yes, this is good. She rubs at her eye, releasing her grip from the blanket, which slips, and is rapidly picked up again. Wiping tears can wait, until she's wearing something. "I don't hate you, either." She hates Caeruleth--or not.
Klari nods again to Hanneke, "Okay. On three then, we run as fast as we can and hope no one sees." Klari takes one last look around the weyr... Those were good leathers too, "Shards.... One... twooo..." Maybe she'll leave three to Hanneke, "Three!" Or not, and she takes off running for her dragon, hopefully he's still on ground.
Hanneke runs too slowly, but attempts to catch up--tripping rather regally on those great big boots of hers. "Wait for meeeee!" she calls, dashing into the bowl. Where's Caeruleth?
You step out into the southern portion of the bowl.