May 9, 2004
Siramyth rises in her maiden flight; Arisvath, always good with the queens, catches.

Previous Next

You head through the narrow tunnel and into the bustling living caverns.

"I didn't say she was," T'yari quickly replies, looking guilty as ever. The other two riders unobtrusively take their conversation elsewhere. They saw Siramyth, too, and figure it's safer to stay away from her rider at this point. Just in case. "I'll tell her," the man promises, but the second clause echoes in his expression even if he doesn't say it aloud: telling Nediath to do something in no way guarantees that she'll actually do it. "So. Um. How're you doing?" He looks after his dinner companions, who only shrug and smirk; they were smart enough to get away, and now T'yari's stuck without backup.

Kiora doesn't seem particularly concerned with the fact that she's scared the other two off; she plops ungraciously in one of the now freed seats, and manages through some miracle not to turn her plate over in her lap. "You better tell her," she repeats sourly. "'cause it's not fair for people to tease Siramyth so. I'm in a very bad mood, because people have been doing that all day, and I /don't like it./ But nobody cares." She huffs, then nibbles on a piece of redfruit, asking as an afterthought, "How're you?"

R'hyn's alone, his legs covered in dry sand almost up to his knees; he pads across the cavern with careful footsteps, as if trying to avoid letting too much sand be left in his wake. At the serving tables, he pours himself a glass of juice, face puckering as he sips at it. "Ugh - sour." Holding the glass gingerly, R'hyn turns to the cavern, seeking out a seat.

"Oh," T'yari murmurs meekly. "I'm sorry." He pushes over his wineglass to Kiora--a peace offering--and suggests, "Try this. I barely touched it." Clearly, he's hoping that a little alcohol will take the edge off her mood. "Fine," he finally answers with a shrug.

Kiora eyes it suspiciously, as she's never one to quickly accept peace offerings from people who call her dragon fat. "What is it? And how come you didn't drink any of it? 'cause there's gotta be a reason why you didn't drink any." She seems too busy sniffing T'yari's offering for tampering to greet R'hyn at the moment -- there are open seats at her and T'yari's table, though, and the greenrider might not mind the back-up.

It's R'hyn's luck - or otherwise - that has the spare seats at Kiora and T'yari's table catch his eye first. He hesitates for only a moment, and then sits himself down without a word, offering both a cheerful enough smile, his glass placed more towards the centre of the table than actually directly in front of him. "Evening."

Evening twilight disperses and the true darkness of a summer evening settles in fully. The air is heavy and thick with humidity - windless 'neath a sky peppered with idle clouds. Being summertime, it's humid and uncomfortable. (76F, 24C)

Calling Siramyth fat just comes naturally, since Nediath's litany tends to be, 'fatfatfatfattyfatso' when she's referring to the gold. "Hey," T'yari says first, finding a small, relieved smile for R'hyn before he tries to reassure Kiora that he's not trying to poison her. "Not sure of the vintage--I'm no expert--but it's what they were having," Here, he waves in the general direction of his deserter friends, "and they seemed to like it. I just thought you might want to try it, too."

Kiora's expression is one of mild understanding, which is probably just as rare as the one of irritation she'll be back to sporting in another five minutes or so. "Oh -- it's wine, then. Well. No. You drink it, then. I don't drink wine. It smells funny." She wrinkles her nose and wiggles her fingers politely at R'hyn. "Hi, then. Is it evening? I couldn't tell before. It was cloudy." And Ki, being Ki, probably didn't pay much attention.

R'hyn's gaze shifts from Kiora to T'yari, then back again, without much hope of comprehension. He smiles thinly. "Yes, it's evening," he admits, shrugging his shoulders. "Doesn't matter, really, I guess." Wrinkling his nose, he adds, "Not a fan of wine, either. Want some of my juice, Kiora? While we're - you know - apparently in a sharing mood?"

T'yari would offer his glass to R'hyn next, except that the bronzerider proclaims dislike of it too. So he reclaims it, but doesn't drink. Twisting the stem between two fingers gives him something to do with his hands--a release of tension, if you will, for the perpetually uncomfortable, nervous, or shy greenrider.

Arisvath> Arisvath lands smoothly, wingsails snapping shut with a quick, efficient motion, as his tail curls up about himself. A mellifluous rumble marks his greeting - an appreciative trill, somewhat lower in the scale than a soprano, added for Siramyth's benefit.

Kiora looks a bit more willing to accept R'hyn's offer, and nods and beams and does other various things that express happiness. "That'd be nice -- would you mind? I like juice more. You want some of my fruit, maybe? You can have some, too," she offers graciously to T'yari, pushing her plate more towards the middle of the table. "I got a lot."

Arisvath> Nediath comes slinking by for gossip or chatter or what-have-you, only to spy her very favorite target ever: Siramyth. Life is good.

R'hyn glances back at T'yari, then to Kiora again, and pushes his glass forward a little more - close enough to reach. "Oh. Okay. Why not." Another thin smile crosses his face, as he reaches out to pick up a piece, juice staining his fingers. "The juice. It's, um, maybe not the best I ever had," he notes, almost embarrassedly. "So-- um, if you don't like it, it's okay."

T'yari just looked at you

"Thanks," says T'yari without looking very thankful. "But, you know, I already ate. But thanks."

Arisvath> Siramyth is just awake enough to move around, attempting to find the best angle at which the moonlight hits her body. This is, apparently, supposed to make her very attractive, though she still just resembles a very large, misshapen butterscotch candy. Maybe that's cute in some places. She makes a vague, appreciative noise in greeting to Arisvath, though her head's pointed at Nediath and she seems, at the moment, too lazy to open an eye and figure this out.

Dragon> Room dragons sense that Nediath's tones are all sweetness and light, sugary-soft and just as disgustingly cloying. << Hellooooo, >> she practically oozes at Siramyth; it's a departure from her normal sharpness. Nediath tries new tactics of harassment. Nediath experiments.

Dragon> Room dragons sense that Arisvath's got a darker note, a lazy tenor drawl that is both rugged and somehow warm and fluffy. << What a fine evening, Nediath, Siramyth, >> he murmurs. << How well you both look. >>

Kiora frowns at T'yari. "You can make room for fruit. everyone can make room for fruit." She takes R'hyn's glass and takes a small sip of the juice, making a face of what must be intense concentration. "S'okay," she says once she's swallowed. "It's still good. S'just like other drinks, I guess, some kinds are naturally better than others."

Arisvath> Arisvath seems inclined to appreciate even the worst misshapen candy; he allows another soft rumble as he repositions himself, muscles tensed to show off - apparently - every fine, greenish-bronze line of his body. Since Siramyth's attention is on Nediath, he turns his head to consider her - and there goes another appreciative note. He's easy.

"Oh. Good," allows R'hyn, after a pause, smiling hastily. "That's okay, then." Finally, he takes a bite of his piece of fruit, juice running into the soft stubble on his chin. "You can have it all, if you want. Keep up your fluids. Or-- well, whatever." He's flushing, just slightly.

T'yari is easily cowed. He also doesn't want to piss off Kiora, especially when her dragon's looking like she looks. So he changes his mind and mutters, "Uh, well. Okay." He reaches out for a section of the fruit, but doesn't immediately eat it.

Dragon> Room dragons sense that Siramyth's voice is always brilliant, though in varying degrees. Nediath's words are recieved with vivid red and the uncomfortable heat of Igen's desert, this being something Siramyth can muster even in sleep. << You fly to me like bugs to glows -- you should stop pretending you hate me so much. >> To Arisvath she is sweet and charming, with all the allure of a tropical vacation: soft breezes and clear skies. << You flatter us, >> she notes. << You shouldn't feel obliged to. I'm sure Nediath has learned to handle rejection well. >>

Kiora keeps her eyes on T'yari, lest he slip her fruit under the table. She'd probably be more grumpy if he wasted it than if he didn't take it at all. "Good. Fruit is good for you. It keeps you healthy. And juice, too -- are you sure I can have your juice?" She peers nervously at R'hyn. "You can have it back if you want, I'd feel bad if I drank it all and you still wanted some." She pauses, then, her eyebrows furrowing as she shoots T'yari another sour look. "Nediath's talking to Siramyth. She's going to tease her. You said she wouldn't!" Arisvath's presence will be more of a concern when Ki's done defending her dragon's honor.

Dragon> Room dragons sense that Arisvath's touch is thick with sincerity, an honest, fervent declaration. << I never flatter, Siramyth, >> he insists, with a certain brand of wide-open honesty. << The truth is far more lovely than false flattery. Nediath is a pretty green. And wellness-- this does not mean more than but your hide gleams nicely, and you look healthy. >>

R'hyn gives T'yari a somewhat sympathetic glance - probably - and mutely eats his own fruit, chewing methodically. "Oh. No, go ahead, Kiora. I'm not drinking it." Nose wrinkled, he adds, "Ah. That's what he's been caught between. They-- don't like each other?"

Arisvath> Ah, but Nediath loves to be admired. The green stretches out langoriously in efforts to one-up Siramyth, twitching her wings until they're just /so./ Only then, when she's certain that she's at her best, does she offer a low, sleek croon.

Arisvath> Siramyth isn't hard to out do, but she's hard to overshadow -- she fixes an eye on Nediath and lazily draws herself out to full length, shifting a bit so she looks a bit less fat. If she had them she'd flutter her eyelashes, but as she doesn't she settles for a coy arch of her neck at Arisvath, paired with a croon that's more of a breathy exhalation.

Dragon> Room dragons sense that Nediath speaks up again once the physical aspects are taken care of; she might not respond to Siramyth's jabs vocally, but she certainly makes note of them, and her body language reflects that. << Hate you? >> she repeats, dropping the syrupy inflections and returning to a balance of sugar and spice. << Dear, you've got it all backwards--you hate me, remember? >> Her comment to Arisvath is simple but smug. << Thank you, darling. >>

Arisvath> Arisvath turns his head from one lovely lady to the other, visibly hesitating. Finally, he allows another low rumble to both of them, adjusting his position so that he can, in effect, admire both of them at once. How diplomatic.

T'yari obligingly pops the piece of fruit and chews away. He even manages a pleasant expression for Kiora, agreeing, "Good." That look's replaced by one of consternation. "Is she? I'm sorry, sorry. I'll tell her to be nice." Not that Nediath ever listens. T'yari nods morosely at R'hyn's deduction. "Uh. Well. Nediath's...um..." He can't choose the proper word and just waves one hand vaguely as if that explains.

Dragon> Room dragons sense that Siramyth still isn't quite awake, but she manages a projection of something that she must hope is blindingly vivid for Nediath. << I'd hate you less if you were capable of civility. >> For Arisvath she musters a mild, syrupy irritation, responding to his actions rather than his words. << You should learn not to be so greedy -- I may just have to leave if you're just going to sit and stare at the both of us, especially if 'us' includes someone as dull and uninteresting as /her./ >>

Dragon> Room dragons sense that Arisvath, stuck between a rock and a hard place. He allows his touch to be a little more diplomatic, enthusing, << You're quite welcome, Nediath. Siramyth, perhaps, just this once, you can oblige little old me? I am only looking, and it would be a crime to not. I'm sorry it offends you. I will try and do better. You are very curvy and sweet. >>

"Nediath calls Siramyth fat," Kiora replies defensively. "It's not /my/ fault T'yari can't make her be nice. I asked him too. And she says Arisvath's not being nice, either." Despite the free juice, R'hyn is no longer safe from Kiora's irritation. "She says she's going to leave if they're not nicer to her, and it's not fair to make /her/ leave when she was just resting so peacefully. And now she's all grumpy."

Dragon> Room dragons sense that Nediath affects a hurt tone. << I'm completely civil. You're the one who's being insulting, not /me./ >> Never Nediath! The flounce her voice suggests carries over to her actions, for she shifts just a wee bit closer to Arisvath while complaining, << Listen to her! Don't waste your time with someone like that. >>

R'hyn inadvertently mimics T'yari, his words said with the same inflection as the greenrider's were: "I'm sorry." His face partially screws up. "He just thinks they're both pretty. I'll tell him to shut up. Er," he adds, in response to T'yari's explanation-of-sorts. "Oh. I... right."

Dragon> Room dragons sense that Siramyth draws away from Arisvath. << The indecisive are dull, >> she states. << Especially the indecisive with poor taste in greens. >> She draws away physically, too, doing her best to swing her tail dangerously close to Nediath as she lifts herself up and begins towards the feeding grounds. << Forgive me for being so cruel, Nediath -- come with me to feed. >> And just so no one thinks she's being serious, << Fatten yourself up so I can leave you on the ground in a shower of dust. >>

"She didn't call her fat right now!" T'yari opposes with a hurt expression. "She /is/ being nice." Was, at least. "Maybe she's the one who's not being nice." Kiora and Siramyth's tension is catching, and the greenrider reflects that. He catches the unintentional repetition and shoots R'hyn an amused look that lasts all of two seconds before turning more commiserating. He rolls his eyes when he thinks Kiora's not looking and slumps a bit lower in his chair as if that'll keep him out of the goldrider's line-of-sight.

"She was going to!" Kiora insists, looking as if she's about to throw a piece of fruit at the greenrider. "And now she's gone off to the --" She pauses, then, looking more perplexed than angry. "But she just ate yesterday. Not even Sira eats /that/ much."

Dragon> Room dragons sense that Nediath lashes out verbally, loosing her temper with a bright apple-green flare that's doubled in an acerbic tone. << Fat gold, I bet you can't even get off the ground. Go gorge. I hope you burst. >>

Dragon> Room dragons sense that Arisvath tries, desperately, to recover -- << But Siramyth! You are my favourite gold, with your curves and colours. Don't go, please? >> It seems a shiny glow has outweighed a pretty, and easier to please - apparently - green; he presses his thoughts in imagery towards Siramyth, openly nonetheless, expressing himself, twined with her, falling through a midnight sky.

R'hyn, wisely or not, keeps his mouth shut, and reaches rather hurriedly for another piece of fruit, chewing on this quickly. "Erm?" he says, intelligently, turning his attention back to Kiora. "She-- Oh."

Not going to: just did. T'yari flushes as Nediath shares her acidic thoughts and shuts up entirely. Kiora can't accuse him if he's not speaking, can she?

Dragon> Room dragons sense that Siramyth keeps on, the tip of her tail twitching in as much of an invitation to Arisvath as she can manage without causing some major property damage. << Brat green -- I'll fly farther than you'll ever manage. >> She reflects the bronze's image, seeming pleased with the idea. << If you could catch me -- if you chase girls like her so much I don't know if you could manage. >>

Arisvath> Siramyth heads beyond the fence into the pen of the feeding grounds.

Arisvath> You beyond the fenced pen and into the feeding grounds.

Dragon> Siramyth and Nediath sense that Arisvath reponds to Siramyth with a quiet calm - << We'll just have to see, Siramyth, won't we? >>

Kiora turns on R'hyn, now, brandishing a finger at him. "You make him stop! Siramyth was sleeping so nicely -- if he goes away she'll go back to sleep," she insists, turning to T'yari for support rather than to accuse him any further. "Won't she? If she doesn't have anyone to bother her?" Judging by the desperation in her voice, if he says no, she might pelt him with fruit after all, if not something a little more damaging.

R'hyn's still holding a piece of fruit, and, apparently, brandishes it in response. "I can't! He's still-- the, you know, symptoms? He's chased almost every dragon that's risen this sevenday, and flirted with the rest." He bites down on his lip, hard, then on the piece of fruit.

Arisvath> Siramyth stumbles towards the grounds with as much speed as she can muster without risk of injury. She quickly claims the fattest beast for herself and digs into its neck. It's lucky she's already eaten -- all the less she can gorge before her rider finally comes to her senses.

"Um," T'yari says so very intelligently. "I, uh. I don't think so." He holds up a hand in an attempt to appease the young goldrider--or, if need be, deflect any projectiles that might be coming his way.

Dragon> Siramyth senses that Arisvath reaches out to touch his mind to yours for just a moment, lazy southern drawl turned more insistent as his own thoughts turn to blood - red and gold, lust and heat, seering through his veins.

"If /I'm/ expected to control /her/," Kiora snaps, pulling her knees close and looking genuinely angry. "Then I'm more than sure that /you/ can control /him./" This is as close to an admittance of her own complete incompetence as anyone will ever get, if only because after that Ki buries her face in her skirt and starts muttering under her breath.

Arisvath> Arisvath dives into the grounds almost carelessly, recoiling his wings just in time to give him a superior landing of sorts as he takes down a fatted calf, biting in to its neck with the ferocity of thread through anything. Blood leaks, gurgling out of the dark wound, sliding down the hides of both animal and dragon, as the bronze drinks deeply of his first kill.

R'hyn opens his mouth to say something, then snaps it shut again - right on his lip, again. His expression turns pained for a moment, then he says, quietly, "It's too late. Blood. Tell her to blood. I--" he glances at T'yari, as if seeking support. "Um. Yeah. Blood."

Arisvath> Siramyth's tail twitches continuously, and the red in her eyes intensifies. She looks, briefly, as if she can't decide whether to gorge or to blood, and reconciles herself to a small nip at the beast's stomach before she fixes her muzzle on his neck once more, sucking at it with gleeful abandon. She finishes swiftly, and selects the nearest animal for speed, felling it with a swift swipe of her claws and hauling it close. Chomp.

As much as T'yari would really like to run away right about now, he can't in good conscience leave Kiora like this; he's been in her position all too often. "Hey," he begins softly; then, a little sharper, says it again. "Hey. Kiora. You gotta pull yourself together. Right now." He catches the look from R'hyn and nods once, absently, but focuses most of his attention upon the teenager. "Tell her to blood," he instructs with all the authority that he can muster. It isn't much. Dryly, he grumbles to himself, "I thought I got out of all that assistant weyrlingmaster business."

Arisvath> Arisvath has not red in his eyes, but purple - lust, held deep - and it shows, in the way he strains his neck to see Her, the way he bloods with reckless abandon, storing energy for the flight ahead. His second beast is felled with as little ceremony as the first, the creature dead before it honestly knew what was happening to it. The bronze's greened hide gains a reddish tint as the blood spurts and falls, the altar to Siramyth gaining another sacrificial victim.

A'raz comes in through the narrow tunnel from the bowl.

"I /am/," Kiora snaps, lifting her head just enough to glower at T'yari over her knees. "I /am/, that's what they said I was supposed to do -- but she never /listens/, it's not /my/ fault if she doesn't do it, it's hers." Ki, apparently, is about as suited for being authoritative as T'yari probably thinks he is.

R'hyn has kind of lost the ability to be at all useful, for all that he keeps murmuring 'blood' beneath his breath. His eyes are vacant, as though he's a million miles away, so caught up in his lifemate that he's unaware of anything else. His fingernails dig deep into his palms.

T'yari's frustrated enough for his voice to rise; he's not yelling, but it's definitely not the usual tone that the reserved greenrider takes. "So /make/ her," he snaps at Kiora with annoyance, glaring right back. "If she doesn't, it /is/ your fault."

A'raz enters the caverns, expecting to find an innocuous, perfectly peaceful scene and instead finding brown, bronze, and his dearly beloved goldrider snapping and being all weird at each other. "... am I missing something?" pipes up the bluerider, furrowing his eyebrows and looking significantly disturbed.

Arisvath> Siramyth would much prefer Arisvath as the sacrificial lamb -- her inviting mood is gone, for now, and as soon as she's done with the second beast she's off and running, despite that Arisvath may still be dining. All the better for her to get a head start, after all, and she speaks to him briefly with a wave of smugness implying that if he's that great, he can catch up.

Arisvath> Arisvath is, indeed, halfway through a beast, and it takes him a moment to let go of it, even once he's in the air and climbing, reaching upwards to regain the time lost in his unreadiness. A desperate tattoo - measured, nonetheless - is made by his wings, disturbing the night. Her smugness is matched by his surety, deep-seated and unwavering; he'll be there.

"It is not!" Kiora whines, burying her face in her knees again. "She's -- she's not eating anymore anyway, is /that/ better for you?" She peeks again, spots A'raz, and buries her face once more. "I wanna go /home./" Though she probably should; despite her usual aversion to it, she's causing a bit of a scene.

R'hyn stumbles to his feet, blinking rapidly, as though coming out of his reverie. "I'll-- shall I walk you home, Ki-- or, wait, maybe someone else." He squeezes his eyes shut, then opens again. "I don't know. But we should--" He's flushed.

T'yari just shoots A'raz a withering look. "Ask Inashanth," he says almost rudely; he'll be embarrassed about it later and probably go out of his way to avoid the bluerider, but right now can't be bothered to be polite. "Yeah, good," he affirms, nodding at Kiora. Then, with hesitation, he suggests, "You guys should probably get out of here."

Arisvath> Siramyth's size leaves no room for acrobatics -- it will be in speed and distance that she defeats the bronze, her wings forcing her through the air at a remarkable pace. She doesn't twist, she doesn't turn, she just flies far and fast, sailing towards the ocean and away from what she'd more likely consider prey than predator.

"Kiiiii, calm /down/." A'raz's eyes glaze over a moment - presumably his dragon has spilled all he needs to know - and he just /PALES/. This is not good. At all. "T'yari's right, luv. Spare the caverns people and take this elsewhere." This, of course, is said very gloomily. "C'mon."

Arisvath> Arisvath, then, is lucky - he, too, is built for speed and endurance, not the flightiness of acrobatics. Straight and fast - right on 'til morning, if needs be - he chases, wings beating out each stroke of a well-matched battle, tail stretching out as far as it can to seek perfect fluidity of motion.

Kiora bobs her head dimly, though it's not quite obvious -- when she stands her face is a vivid shade of red, and it's T'yari whose hand she instantly grabs for. "/You/ take me," she demands, tugging at him and watching R'hyn with suspicion; T'yari is, apparently, considered the most trustworthy at the moment. When she's coherent enough she fixes A'raz with an apologetic look, and then she glowers at T'yari again, and starts making her way out of the caverns. "Come on."

R'hyn clutches on to the edge of the chair he was sitting in, until moments ago, then takes a step towards the door. Just one, though - he turns, hesitating, to watch Kiora, and wait; his eyes, very wide, seem to drink her in, even as his fingernails continue to dig into the hardened skin of his palm.

Arisvath> Siramyth sweeps along, dipping and rising only as much as is needed for navigation and then just for variety once she's hit the sea: there's nothing there to block her way, to distract her, but there isn't anything to get Arisvath out of her way, either. Perhaps not the wisest path but it's a clear path either way, and that's all she seeks for now.

Arisvath> Arisvath's path alters only momentarily, as he reaches for a thermal to propel himself just a little further above and beyond, though his gaze never leaves his quarry. The openness of the air and sky seems only to encourage the bronze, as his speed increases, the merry chase gaining momentum, as he pushes, every gaining, if only slightly, towards Siramyth.

"What?" T'yari nearly shrieks, beginning to tug back in an effort to free himself from Kiora's death-grip. "But I'm not--why--what?" The greenrider looks positively murderous, but he gives in and follows, muttering the whole while.

Arisvath> Siramyth keeps a steady pace, altering only with the thermals she catches or with the infrequent change of direction: a tilt, a dip, a brief and infrequent change of direction to throw Arisvath off her course. She almost appears to slow down, at some point, but it isn't so -- just a moment later she's outpaced Arisvath again, however marginally.

"Yes," Kiora states with some degree of finality. "You're going to come." That decided, she stalks out of the bowl, dragging T'yari along with her and leaving little time to follow her path; it's lucky the golds' weyrs are so easy to find.

Arisvath> Arisvath has chased too many times - and won too many times - to be easily put off. It's not to say that he flies a perfect flight - on the contrary, he misses a thermal here, and dodges, only barely, a rough breeze there, and yet he maintains if not a perfect distance, close to it. If he gains, it's in bits only, on again off again, but never deterred.

Kiora disappears through the narrow tunnel to the bowl.

A'raz disappears through the narrow tunnel to the bowl.

R'hyn nearly trips over his own feet in his attempt to rush after Kiora -- there's something to be said for balance, and the ability to keep one's own head.

Kiora's and Siramyth's Weyr(#476RJ)

"This is so not fair," T'yari complains to anyone who'll listen. "I have to deal with this with Nediath. I shouldn't have to be involved when it's some stupid, fat gold." Irritation, apparently, means that his opinion of Siramyth coincides with Nediath's.

A'raz comes into the weyr.

Why he's here, not a clue. A'raz, however, having dreaded this ever so much, has brought along a nice skin of alcohol to calm his rapidly flopping, twisting, and turning stomach. "T'yari," he notes, shimmying closer to the greenrider, "is there any way I could possibly get /out/ of here while Ki's not watching?" Which, of course, he makes sure to say in as low a voice as he can muster. "Cause I kind of /don't/ want to see this."

Kiora continues along, hustling into her weyr and relaxing a bit in the familiar surroundings. The company seems to put her at a bit of a loss, however, and she siezes the opportunity to snap at T'yari again. "Shut up. /Someone/ had to help me..." So it may as well be T'yari. She ignores the others as best she can and just leans against the nearest wall, looking thoroughly uncomfortable. "It's too hot."

R'hyn seems to be the only person who DOES want to be here -- and he's just a little preoccupied. He pushes himself up against a wall opposite Kiora's, standing straight, as he stares - longingly, even - at the goldrider. "You could take off--" he breaks off, flushing darkly red, and shuts his eyes, fumbling at the top button on his shirt.

Arisvath> Siramyth wouldn't know what a perfect flight was -- it's /her/ first, it's /her/ flight period, and it shouldn't matter what he's done in anyone else's. He's here to chase her and she's bound and determined to make him do it, though she can't keep on forever and she slows again as she hits a rough patch of air. This time, however, she doesn't make as decent of a recovery, and Arisvath is allowed, inadvertantly, to gain by a much more sizeable amount.

"Can it, R'hyn," A'raz mumbles, glowering at the bronzerider, clearly disturbed quite a bit and staying conveniently near T'yari. Unable to take it much longer, A'raz uncaps the liquor skin and starts glugging. When he finishes after a few seconds, he holds it out in T'yari's direction. "Y'wan' some?"

T'yari does not shut up like Kiora tells him to. And he's a little bit too cheerful when he responds to A'raz. "Sure. Just run for it when they all take off. But if you ditch me when /she's/ making me stay--" Insert a dirty look at Kiora. "--then I swear, I'll make you regret it." He looks at Kiora a bit pityingly and gives her hand a quick squeeze, then accepts A'raz's offer with a grateful look. "Yes, please."

The night grows late, midnight fast approaching on this summer evening. The air is heavy and thick with humidity - windless 'neath a sky peppered with idle clouds. Being summertime, it's humid and uncomfortable. (75F, 24C)

Arisvath> This is nothing but encouragement for Arisvath, he redoubles his efforts as he gains that ground, wings beating faster still. There's no one but Siramyth on his mind, no thought but her racing through his veins - though the ichor, one assumes, is still present and correct. He lunges forward, gliding through a well-placed thermal, chasing his heart out.

"Um," is Kiora's eloquent response to R'hyn -- it's not possible for her to blush anymore, though, and she sort of distractedly watches him fumble with his button. "Um." She rubs at her nose a bit, and finally decides that watching A'raz is a much less embarrassing activity for the time being -- or better yet watching the ground, which she does as she sinks down to it with a thump. "Hurry up, Sira," is mumbled vaguely, along with a few other things.

R'hyn glances at A'raz, eyes bright. "Why? I've got more of a chance with her than /you/ tonight." There's a triumphant note to it -- and, quickly, he turns his attention back to the goldrider. At least he doesn't lick his lips. He finally gets the button undone, and drops his hands to his side, breathing deeply.

A'raz idly hands over the skin in T'yari's direction before glowering at R'hyn again. "Don't get bloody /cocky/ about it until you win, bronzerider," snarkily replies the lad - albeit just a tad roughly. Already feeling the effects of the lil' drinkie? No doubt.

Arisvath> Siramyth would be a terrible thing to have trapped in ichor -- all that fat. Girth aside, she's gone long and far and seems pleased with her efforts. She tilts again to give herself a better angle at which to watch his progress, and when she sees how close he is she quickly returns her attention to the flight, spurting ahead once more. It's too little too late, though -- she's obviously becoming tuckered out, as her pace slows again and she resorts to smaller ducks and twists in a final attempt to lose him.

T'yari considers bolting now that his hand's free, but just stretches it out to take A'raz's wineskin. He throws back a gulp and then silently offers it to Kiora, bending down and awkwardly patting her shoulder.

Arisvath> Arisvath's not got a great deal more energy than Siramyth does, but he's got something she does not: a desperate desire to win. To that end, her attempts fail to lose him; true, he loses a little ground, but he gains it back just as quickly, coming closer with each great heave and pull of his wings.

"Don't fight," Kiora whines. "Don't fight over /me/ like it's up to /you/ who I sleep with." T'yari's wineskin is taken with a mumbled thank you, and she takes a long sip, grimacing before she hands it back to the greenrider. It might be rude to skip R'hyn, but Ki doesn't seem particularly eager to get any closer to him than she is at present.

"I did say /chance/," says R'hyn, with a shrug - but his tone is cocky nonetheless. He half reaches for the wineskin, then drops his hand again, shutting his eyes. Okay. He won't push. "C'mon, Arisvath. You're close. Just--"

Arisvath> Siramyth is within the bronze's grasp, now -- she ducks into a dive in one final attempt to lose him, not wanting to actively give up. Finally she's opted for the path of least resistance: down is the quickest way to go, and she's at least got a long way to travel.

Arisvath> Arisvath hurtles downwards, after a moment's notice, lunging into a dive as soon as he can push his bulk into it - sometimes easier said than done. Wings furled - he has less need of them, now - he strains closer, eager as ever to catch the glowing prize.

Before the wineskin is securely in T'yari's grasp, A'raz grabs it and throws back some more - mm, yummy - as he hears Arisvath is getting closer. Must be prepared, you see. "Well, shells, if you're going to be the one having her today - " From the extremely dour look on his face, it's not hard to see he absolutely hates admitting this. " - at least, Faranth's sake, try to wait until I pass out."

Which, his player may add, might happen soon, from how woozy he's lookin'.

T'yari would've passed along the wineskin to R'hyn--in his opinion, they're all poor, poor souls who need all the fortification they can get. But no. A'raz gets it. So T'yari just ends up giving R'hyn an apologetic look instead.

Arisvath> Siramyth can't go any farther, can't go any faster -- if he wants her he should take her now, as she twists to watch him once again and leaves herself open for capture, the red in her eyes having shifted to a vivid, vibrant violet -- no need to waste more energy on chase when it could be used when she's captured.

Kiora whimpers faintly, clinging to her knees again as Siramyth's capture becomes ever more imminent. "Don't talk about me like that," she manages eventually, though it's quite muffled by her skirt. "Like you're deciding."

Arisvath> Arisvath's not fool - the time is now, and so he does what he must, capturing her within his embrace, tail and neck twining with hers as he reaches further than he could ever reach, normally. Together, then, they fall, Arisvath's wings spread out to slow their descent, bronze and gold gleaming together about the vivid, Istan ocean.

R'hyn misses that look - misses everything, in fact. His hands tense once more, then his eyes open wide - and a smile spreads upon his face, delight and relief all at once. "Not deciding," he murmurs, taking a step forward. "Knowing."

"Like I shaid, wait til I pash out, would yeh?" Another big drink, and A'raz feels decidedly woozy and tired enough that he doesn't pass out. However, he does fall asleep. Quite conveniently, A'raz slumps in T'yari's direction and closes his eyes, breathing soft and slow. Well, there /he/ goes.

T'yari's already peeved; having A'raz fall over is the last straw pushing the greenrider from mere irritation to outright ire. "Oh this is /is,/" he growls. At least he doesn't drop A'raz where he is and storm off. "Hey," he says loudly, ignoring the other two. "Wake up. I can't carry you anywhere."

Kiora shudders then relaxes -- she watches R'hyn's approach over her skirt with an expression of mild anticipation, but doesn't move herself. "Carry him anyway," she snaps irritably at T'yari, though she can't be bothered enough to glower at him. "You wanted to leave -- /go./"

R'hyn seems to have forgotten that there's anyone else here - he doesn't even seem to notice the exchanges, as he approaches, grasping for Kiora in the blindness of flight-lust; it won't be HIS fault if they don't leave before things get x-rated.

"No!" T'yari yells at Kiora. "You deal with him! I'm not helping anyone out anymore!" So he lets A'raz drop right then and there and storms off.

T'yari heads out of the weyr.

Kiora stands, now, and sways, putting a hand to her forehead and finally just falling towards R'hyn. "Next weyr's nobody's," she mumbles usefully, not in a state to help A'raz out -- though she certainly doesn't seem to want to put the bronzerider off anymore either.

A'raz, not having a T'yari to slump upon, just... falls over and sleeps quite contentedly.

R'hyn blinks several times, as if trying to figure out what Kiora is trying to say. Comprehension finally dawns; he half turns, catching sight of A'raz. Ah. Without hesitating, he reaches down and simply picks Kiora up, hoisting her over his shoulder as he makes for the door. He's not so quite lost to the urges of the body that he'll take an audience - sleeping or no.

Though it would certainly make for an interesting scene in the morning. Kiora squeals faintly as she's lifted off the ground, and wraps her arms around his neck, cozying up comfortable as he hauls her off.

Previous Next