- Niagara Falla Hotel Deals -- Sanita Smith, 04:55:24 03/02/12 Fri
In Niagara Falls Hotels Canada by E-lodge is one of the best motel
of the Niagara Falls which offers best quality
accommodation for great vacations experience.15
Minutes’ walk to the Falls. It is centrally located
among the best Niagara Falls hotels and motels and
that easily accessible from Toronto. We are close to
the attraction but far from the noise.
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- What they said was real... -- Tr’ln (Latroth) and Talla (Zairith), 11:05:43 11/20/05 Sun
Makes me wanna steal...
As the two riders and green hatchling entered the Perches and approached a waiting, full-grown brown, it was evident from the first that something was wrong. For one, the Hatching Feast was going on, which meant that the riders were missing one of the most festive events the Weyr held, making the pair alone, or at least mainly. However, the real shock came when it was seen that the brownrider Tr’ln, a man in his twenties impressed from Kylith’s clutch, was leaning against newly-impressed greenrider True, who was a turn or two behind, and crying.
As the greenrider supported her friend to the side of one of the pools where he could lie, the brown crooned gently to his rider, taking a few quick strides to meet them halfway. He lowered his wedge-shaped head, and gently nudged his rider’s stomach. The boy laid a hand on the dragon’s muzzle in gratitude, and gently shook True’s hand from his shoulder. He gently strode to the side of the nearest pool, which was next to a wall, and sat down with his back against the wall. The brown calmly walked into the water, laid down in the refreshing pool, and laid his head next to his rider, once eye watching the boy. True put her hand on the green’s head, and steered her over to the water, making sure she was settled before turning and sitting on Tr’ln’s other side. Cautiously, she laid her hand on his, which was folded with the other in his lap, and looked up at the soft, clearly upset face.
For a moment or so, they sat in silence. Then, True cleared her throat. “Tr’ln... er... are you... all right?” ‘That was stupid,’ she thought bitterly. ‘Standard question...’ Her dark grey eyes met his and held them, the soft azure muddled with tears and unsaid thoughts.
“Depends,” Tr’ln said after a pause, causing True to sigh in relief. At least he was good enough to talk. She massaged his hand gently with her thumb unconsciously, but he didn’t seem to notice.
Not quite able to old it in longer, she blurted out, “Talla had no right to say any of that, Tral. She should’ve known you’re sorry, she should—”
“She was right, True.” He said softly. True was about to interrupt, but he spoke first. “About everything. I was stupid, and there’s no excuse for that. I... I shouldn’t have... I should have been a father instead of running like a coward...”He shook his head, showing that he couldn’t quite express his feelings. “I’m just... I dunno... I’m just a loser...”
Think you’re kinda neat...
“You are not,” True said firmly, taking her free hand and brushing his tears away. “I mean, sure, you made a mistake, but you’re sorry, aren’t you? You’ve changed Tral. And if she can’t see that... well, then it’s her loss. I promise.”
Tr’ln shook his head. “No, True. She... deserves better.”
That was enough to finally push True past her breaking point. She shook her hand away, and sat on her knees in front of him. She took his chin in a hand, and forced him to look her in the eye, her face and voice firm. “Now, you listen, Tr’ln. I never want to hear you say that again, you hear? You’re ten times better than that stupid Talla, and you never forget it. You’re kind, caring, and most of all, you’re forgiving. If she can’t muster up enough courage to see not only from Tsuga’s point of view but yours, and notice how well you’ve adapted and changed, then she’s just a shallow little wherrie, you hear? I never, never want you to think you’re not good enough, because you’re the best, Tr’ln, and if she can’t see that then she doesn’t deserve you!”
Finally getting it all off her chest allowed True to breathe easier, and as she looked at Tr’ln, she saw that he’d stopped crying. Now he was looking at her with an extremely shocked and down-to-earth expression, and seemed to try and let her words sink in. Sighing, she sat back, and took his hand again.
“Look, Tral... it’ll all be ok. Try and forget about her. Not everyone can be your friend, and if she refuses you after a mistake you made ten turns ago, then you should give your affection to someone else.”
Tr’ln just nodded solemnly. Of course saying so much about him made Tr’ln realize that he did have a fiercely loyal friend in True—he had not yet realized her true feelings for him—but he still felt like a complete creep. Now he’d lost his only other human friend in the entire Weyr—and there was the added bonus that she was his crush... and that would be harder to get over.
[It’s all true,] Latroth said softly, his serpentine tongue flicking a his rider’s arm. [Believe us. We really care about you. And besides, would I Impress to a creep? Never!]
Tr’ln nodded in reply to them both. “All right,” he said, and could say no more.
Then she tells me I’m a creep...
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- Oiling Escapade -- Kuorisse - Xaloth, Y'shiro - Riath, 18:16:30 10/08/05 Sat
Riath continues to bound ungainly circles around the other three youth who travel with her, seemingly unhindered by her bright distended belly full of meat. Y'shiro yawns as he watches her, so tired that even his usually impeccable manners fail him and his jaw drops with no hand to cover it. Kuorisse notices this with a smile, but also notices that her expression does not truly change -- the sheer existence of the sturdy blue at her side had kept a grin across her face the entire afternoon. Gently she lowers her hand to his sandy back, almost as if to reassure herself that Xaloth was, in truth, actually there. Whirling blue eyes lift ever so slightly, and his deep midnight muzzle brushes against her chin. Wordless love passes between them with that touch, and Kuorisse stops walking for a moment, tears that had gone unshed at the Sands now pouring down her cheeks, mixing with the blood that had smeared there from forgetful itches post draconic feeding. Y'shiro tosses a concerned glance back in his friend's direction, then suddenly senses the lack of his lifemate's now-familiar motion. He jerks his head back in her direction and finds her rolling around on the ground, wriggling her back and sides into crevices of the stone.
"Ri.."
Itchy... Itch... I itch.. I ITCH!
Dark eyes widen and Y'shiro turns back to Kuorisse... who is still crying. Shoulders slump slightly as he recognizes the lack of help there, and takes a swift look around for himself. Vats of oil catch his eye and he runs over to one as fast as his little legs can carry him, filling a bucket half as big as he is, and staggering under the weight to get back to his dragon. He trips on a raised stone, and the bucket goes flying, oil spilling out and on to the floor. The noise gains Riath's attention however, and without further ado, she flings herself at the spreading puddle -- and rolls in it. Relief for both rider and dragon soon follow, though Y'shiro does turn to glare at Kuorisse, who's latest emotional shift has been to uncontrollable giggles. Dark curls hide her face as she buries it in her hands to regain control of herself, and very carefully she walks back to the vat and fills two buckets. Giving one to Y'shiro for post-rolling cleansing, she begins an, admittedly more traditional, oil of Xaloth's blue flank.
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- >~< -- L'andro & Sanoth; S'kar, 18:58:42 08/12/05 Fri
Having asked for directions from a helpful brownrider, L'andro and Sanoth reach the Perches much more quickly than they had the found the hatchling's meal. Once there, however, the boy quickly realizes that he has no idea how to scrub a dragon. "Get into the lake, and I'll figure it out," he suggests, and Sanoth bobs his head and obeys the soft-voiced instructions. While he splashes quietly about, L'andro locates the long-handled wire brushes and peers at them in confusion.
"There's soapsand in the lake, and you use that to scrub it in," a someone says from behind him.
L'andro turns to see a dark young man, obviously an older and experienced dragonrider (a bluerider, by his shoulder knots), smiling up at him. The boy flashes the man a grin. "Thank you."
"No problem. You're not the first one I've seen tonight," the bluerider assures him, and then turns and walks off. It's not until he's gone that L'andro realizes he hadn't asked the man's name.
Well, I'll see him again, he thinks optimistically, and plunges into the lake to scrub his little brown hatchling down.
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- †To hear you say, "This one's mine"† -- L'nox(Riath), 19:13:22 06/29/05 Wed
†My heart is spoken for†
L'nox makes a small entrance, while Riath makes a painfully obvious one. Still, his hatchling deserved to be treated better than a queen, didn't she?
†By the powers of the cross†
'Hold still, Riath. This could take some time.'
I'm ready. I want to look my best.
'I'll do my job well.'
†You've taken what was lost†
And thus, L'nox picked up a wire-bristled brush from its hook, and a large bag of sweet/cleansing sands. Fortunately, Riath was not as large as some of the other hatchlings, so it wouldn't take long- if he skimped. He was determined to make Riath outshine even the new gold, so he applied himself to vigorous scrubbing, sending his lifemate into the lake to rise off the sand everso often.
†And made it fully yours†
Finally, after an hour of scrubbing, Riath was clean. Now, it was time for oiling. Patting Riath calmingly, L'nox asked, 'Feel any better?'
I feel clean!!!
'Good. Now, I'm going to oil you, so that you sparkle and shine, all glossy.'
Let me have it.
†And I have been redeemed†
L'nox worked the last of the oil in, a half hour later, and wiped a large amount of sweat from his eyes. In contrast to his hagard and sandy appearance, Riath glowed with health. He pushed a short lock of hair out of his eyes, and arched his back. The amount of pops from air escaping from his spine was startling- and somewhat disturbing.
†By you that spoke to me†
'Ready to select a weyr, your queenlyness?'
Yes, L'nox. I'm tired, and you need to rest.
'Thank you for noticing, Riath. I know you must be exhausted, from the Hatching.
Food has made be feel much better, but, but- Riath yawned. I still need sleep.
'Of course, m'dear. I'll get bathed and reclothed, and maybe by then you'll have finished your nap. Then we can join the others at the Feast.
†Now I am spoken for†
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- Mood swing. Funny, that. -- Liraz~Gaiath (Ariella, Yafah), 13:04:58 06/25/05 Sat
Once again, the sun is blocked for a moment. And then there is a green in the lake, splashing anyone who is still about and thus as late as this particular green is. She does not even look twice at them, but
Liraz, get yourself here. NOW! I'm not at all pleased that the first thing we get to do now that we've arrived back home is to be late for something important!
The response doesn't appear to please her, and she lets out a snort, even though her rider is running at her full tilt, having arrived on the scene.
I was not the one doing the actual travelling most of the time, you know. You go on about how fast you are at least twice a day!
Yes, and my wings ache for it, and I itch. Was I supposed to know about this halfway across Pern and thinking more about finding your brother? Now get scrubbing before all the food is gone and before my hide all falls off.
At the mention of her brother, Liraz goes dark red and looks ready to scream a few choice words and stalk away, but she keeps her temper admirably instead. When Gaiath speaks to her again, she too seems less irate.
Touchy, Mine?
A bit, yes. I think I might need a bath myself. My hair is still full of sand.
Making especially sure to scrub the spots where the harness had begun to chafe, Liraz bathes her dragon, and then oils the green to within an inch of gold. The light to dark gradient of Gaiath's hide seems to take in every shade of green wih a name and quite a few without, now that the dust and dead skin have been scrubbed off and the oil has soothed all the irritation in both senses of the word. Needless to say, a happy dragon does not detract from the making of a happy rider one bit. The dark-haired woman is able to relax little by little now. After a few moments of peaceful silence and contemplation, she lets out a bark of laughter.
"Time to go to our old weyr before those two kill each other. I hope the're not lying when they say no one's touched any of my things. I still don't know what the picture of the gown is about. Do you mind the harness again, my love, or are you going to make me climb up there?"
Grudgingly, Gaiath bends down to receive her flying gear, lets Liraz mount, and once again takes wing, this time toward the Rider Quarters, merely a green blur in the sky.
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- Hatching Feast! -- Wessae~Shrineth, 19:18:25 06/16/05 Thu
After a 'thank you' wave to Sengaloth, Wessae prepares the materials she'll need to bathe a sandy and now no doubt bloody Shrineth. When the queen dives headfirst into the water with a tremendous splash, the nearby weyrlings and dragonets who had still been working on their dragons all sputter, having been doused.
Having made her grand entrance, is the Majesty ready to be clean? Wessae asks her dragon privately, glad to be off the hot sands and amidst others. Content and full, Shrineth ambles out of the lake and assumes the position for Wessae to scrub her. A good two hours later, the Weyrwoman smiles happily into the queen's freshly oiled hide. Shrineth thrums with pleasure and health, glad to be through with the nesting ordeal and alone with her lifemate once more.
Wessae swings aboard, mindful of the fresh oiling and the fact that her former weyrlingmaster would probably kill her if he caught her riding without safety straps. "Now it's my turn," she announces, feeling every effect of the pounding sand and longing for a nice hot bath. "Come on, love, off to the weyr."
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- True Blue Part 2 (hey, that rhymes) -- L'kas and Fuareth, 20:15:16 06/14/05 Tue
The lake! I'm going to get clean!
And with that, the blue hatchling jumps into the waters, immersing his body in their depths. Ooh, this feels good.
L'kas laughs and splashes in after him. "I'm glad you like to swim as much as I do. Now let's get you nice and clean." They're in the water for a while, L'kas cleansing his blue's hide of all the egg gook and residue. Soon, Fuareth is sparkling and happy. They leave the water and start on the oiling.
Yes, I like this. Fuareth tells his rider, pleased with the massage. And now he is perfectly clean and they're ready to depart.
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- Here come 't3h boiz'. -- F'nlaur - Bakarith .. G'nen - Raghath .. L'meak - Marath .. B'mulf - Zeeth .. U'maro - Quaroth, 10:40:11 06/05/05 Sun
Two dragons jog speedily ahead of their Impressers, who trundle heavily behind. Glimmerings upon the first massive body mark it instantly as bronze. Though his colour is a bit unusual - he's a brassy shade of orange-green, though the colour seems to conform over his entire gargantuan body. Brass wings are flared up and forward, beating uselessly down at each bounding leap. Beside him, a much smaller dragon, the hue of fresh cocoa and topsoil. Pale at the back and wings, swirled with a colour darker than hot chocolate but lighter than earth. Speckles of reddish brown smother his chest and stomach and the fronts of his legs, like he's plowed into the cresting wave of a crimson sea. The brown throws back his head and bugles to the bronze, who trumpets in return. Together they charge into the warm lake, bodies positively glowing when the water hits them, a thousand jewels running down their young frames.
A good deal behind is a tanned man, flipping his long locks in the air. They shimmer pure copper, catching the light from Rukbat and casting it away again. His green eyes are reserved for only one right now - the bronze that cavorts in the clear water. F'nlaur's muscular chest is bare and bears a healthy, allover, and very dark tan that speaks of hard word. But you know and I know that he lazes outside to get it just right. Can you really blame him?
The other Weyrling is even further back, his fat and pasty body huffing and puffing and sweating buckets. His tight little curls bobble atop his head as he hits the ground with all his large weight. A flustered red-pink stains his cheeks with the physical exertion, but he doesn't seem to care. His own blue gaze is fixed on the red-smattered brown. An arm comes up to wipe moisture from a round, moony face, but the wooly fabric bristles a bit painfully.
F'nlaur hits the water and leaps at Bakarith, who squalls and topples over into the deeps. Worry pangs into the young man, fearing that the bronze would drown, but the young dragon's head pokes up and his limbs thrash, obviously fine, if a bit clumsy. Bakarith paddles back to the shallows and consents to a firm scrubbing to rid him of eggskin and sand and any remaining shards of shell. G'nen tentatively reaches the side of the lake and tests it with his toe, before kicking off both sandals and trotting in. F'nlaur glances behind to the unsightly boy and turns quickly away, a look coming over his face. The bronze shoulders him, demanding his attention, now ignoring his clutch mate.
Raghath croons peacefully and nestles against his rider, who watches F'nlaur and follows his lead. The unpleasant bits are cleaned from both bodies.
What happens now? G'nen asks his brown.
I am itchy. You see how my hide is peeling? That is from the eggskin and the sand.
Um.. um.. oh! Right! I think there is oil somewhere I can put on you, but I don't know where.
Ask that Candidate? Raghath tosses his head to the flipping orange-copper hair. But F'nlaur and Bakarith finish and leave the water, sopping wet. G'nen stares at the young man as they leave, blushing greatly and feeling a bit strained near his belly. When the bronze and new rider are gone, the brown creels, Why didn't you ask?
I, um, I don't know.. He hangs his head, the curls a bit loose from the water.
Something dark and hostile slides into the water nearby. G'nen jumps half a foot when the something passes him, green and fierce of eye like a horrible sea monster. She emerges from the water, allover a shady colour of murky jade. The green hatchling's head lifts and she hisses, though the noise almost sounds like laughter. Her Impresser stands at the bank until she points a violent glare at him, and he trails into the water after her. L'meak sneers at G'nen and starts scrubbing down Marath.
Okay, rumbles Raghath. Ask him.
No way. He is.. The brownrider shivers and continues cleaning his dragon, but the hatchling sidles away.
Ouch! I'm already clean, don't scrub me too hard. You may damage me. Just ask, please!
I'm so sorry! G'nen fumbles away from his dragon and almost into L'meak, who jerks and urges his own green away from them. But a mental push from Raghath turns the Weyrling around to address the greenrider. 'Erm..'
Frosty grey-brown eyes narrow and glare over one shoulder. 'What do you want?'
'Where do we go.. when they're clean?'
'Oil them,' L'meak spits, a careless arm waving towards the far wall.
'Th-thank you,' he mumbles and beckons to the brown, who arises from the water with a rush. They both seem hasty to be out of there.
Meanwhile, F'nlaur is rubbing a second coat of oil into his lifemate's brassy hide. Bakarith croons in pleasure, but as soon as the cloth goes over him twice, he backs away. Quite enough, love, save some for the other hatchlings!
The Weyrling laughs and claps a hand on his shoulder. Let's scoot, he murmurs, shooting a glance to the blonde-headed tubby boy that was coming closer.
Alright. Bakarith follows F'nlaur away, out to the Barracks where he and the other Weyrlings would find sleeping arrangements. The rag is dropped onto a small table beside the oil buckets.
G'nen picks it up again, five seconds later. It feels greasy and slick, not a really pleasant feeling. He frowns at it. Raghath glances to a bucket with green eyes. That might be it. The rider nods.
I remember this now. He dips the cloth into the oil. A stream of heavy liquid runs down his robed arm and drips off the point of the fabric. It's tossed onto Raghath before more can escape, eliciting a squeal. The rider then goes over the brown, rubbing every drop in, not missing a single spot. It requires many trips back into the bucket.
As he's about to begin again, Raghath shakes his head. This feels absolutely wonderful, I don't need another. G'nen nods, a little smile forming across his chalky face. They trail after the bronze and his rider, to the Barracks.
L'meak and Marath wait until the brown is gone to approach the oil. The rider knows exactly what to do. He dunks and coats, mechanically, going over his green's body with meticulous care. He associates it in his mind with cleaning a wound, to which the green snorts. I'm not a wound, she growls at him, darkly amused. To this, the boy chuckles. He finishes quickly and lets the green walk in a circle before nodding her consent, and they, too, stalk off.
---
A good deal later, another brown all but skips down to the lake and rolls in the mud. Dirt dirt dirt! It's good for ya, Mulfie!
B'mulf sheds his robes at the edge of the lake, giving his dragon a bemused look and a pat on the head. His lanky, yellowed body urges the dragon in. Zeeth is the colour of any tree in the forest, layered with greys and muds and so many shades of grown, all overlaid and blended with a sheen of pure golden. He was unusual - dark sworls of chestnut sprawling lazily over large, gangly wings and all down his back and spine. The brown lolls in the warm water, blowing bubbles and whipping his lengthy tail from side to side while his rider cleans the muck off. Then, B'mulf urges Zeeth out towards the oil, which promptly goes on in a thick layer, making the brown shine all the more. Me likies! he croons, head bobbing from left to right as if to some invisible music. The Weyrling chuckles, dark eyes crinkled happily, and gives Zeeth a push towards the Barracks.
---
The hatching is all but over. After a very long pause, a blackish, smallish brown trots to the lake and immerses himself quickly. His olive-skinned rider is hot in pursuit. They make a very slow, languid, and careful job of cleaning and oiling, as if very tired. That is a true thing. Quaroth's jaws frequently part in heavy yawns, his exhaustion spreading over to his lazy rider, making them both increasingly sluggish. At one point, U'maro simply folds over his brown's unnaturally shiny, near-black hide while they both doze, the oil spreading over his bare, hard, dark torso. He snaps awake at something or another, quickly finishes the job, and dawdles out with Quaroth in tow.
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- Always look on the bright side of life! -- Atiyana - Loriath, 10:43:05 04/21/05 Thu
Loriath took the last steps to the warm lake at the Perches at a run, diving head first into the soothing water and crowing with delight. Atiyana watched her for a moment, still not entirely sure that this wasn’t all some kind of wonderful dream, before hiking up the skirt of her white robe and wading in after the green. ‘Like the water?’ She asked with a grin, grabbing a brush and a bag of sweetsand and beginning to scrub at the soft green hide.
Oh yes. The hatchling’s eyes were half-closed in dreamy enjoyment as the brush ran over her neck, and she sighed in bliss. I expect much more of this if you wish to keep me looking as good as I wish to look.
The girl chuckled. ‘You’ll get it, my dear. I want to fulfil your expectations of me!’
A smug sound bubbled from the water. Good. Abruptly, the green rose to her paws and walked out of the water. I am clean now. Oil me. Time must not be wasted – I need to sleep to look nice and grow well. So with a barely-concealed smirk of amusement, Atiyana covered her dragon with oil until she was gleaming with it, standing back to enjoy her work only when she had finished entirely.
‘If you want some sleep, let’s choose a weyr. I picked a really nice one out, and we need to get there soon…’
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- Splinted arm! -- Fedreance, H'ndre, Fedris, and Heather(w/broked arm), 09:29:11 04/21/05 Thu
Impith dear, do you see Ojeth or Kierth?
Kierth is on the Sands, watching Cara and some other girl he’s taken under his wing, no, I don’t see Ojeth.
What about Lizzie?
She’s sunning. And her rider is in the caverns with your niece, and- Garieth, get back in line!
What’s he doing?
Trying to show off. Typical Garieth.
Yes, Fedreance thought to herself, it was typical Garieth, looking up from tending to Fedris. The wiry green rider wasn’t truly dressed for flying, wearing a full skirt rather than flying leathers, but she had had no time to change.
“Okay, chil’, hush. We’ll get you to the Caverns soon, and see about hot food. But for now, have some jerky.”
She gave the toddler a small strip of wherry jerky.
Don’t worry, H’ndre. Impith won’t stay mad for long.
Oh yeah? My mom will!
Typical Fedreance.
“Heather, hang on tight. Garieth has to land in the perches, very carefully. Okay?”
The bronze rider looked down at the tightly wrapped toddler, and shifted the sling around his chest that supported her. The tiny girl sucked on a thumb, her other arm in a splint and bound in a sling.
“Mom!” he called, slightly panicking.
”Yes, H’ndre, how’s Heather?” Fedreance turned to face her youngest of her adult sons.
”Not too good, Mom. She looks really pale, and her pupils are dialated,” H’ndre called, still panicking.
“Land, son! I’ll take a look at her,” Fedreance called back over her shoulder as she held onto Fedris with her arm while mentaly directing Impith through the wind.
We’ve flown through worse, Fedreance.
I know, but this time I have Fedris and H’nedre and Heather with me. I don’t want to lose my children!”
I know. Rey is at the Dolphin Hall, and Vivian is about to start weyrling lessons, with green Idaliath.
Good choice for Idaliath! Now, land, my love, and let’s get the little ones under cover!
Impith landed without a fuss, and allowed Fedreance to somersault off of her leg, curling around her son. Behind her, H’ndre dismounted in a similar fashion, only sliding down Garieth’s leg instead of somersaulting.
Fedreance knelt on the ground, sitting Fedris on her left side while H’ndre handed her Heather. She looked over the girl’s arm while H’ndre went for help.
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- And this is how you remind me... -- D'raco, Neith, 13:54:40 04/19/05 Tue
This is how you remind me...
The blue pair walked into the Perches togehter, as it should be. D'raco and Neith walked through with a confident arrogance, a sense of understnading evident in the way they looked at each other when one chanced a glance at the other.
D'raco immediatly walked over to teh pools, motioning Neith over. Hesitantly, thr blue walked forward, and gently stepped into the water while D'raco got a soft, hatchling brush.
"Ready for your bath, love?"
Ready.
This is how you remind me of what I really am...
D'raco gently took his sandals off, and stepped into the pool. Gently, he mixed sweetsand into the bristles, and started to gently scrub the hide, which was still damp with egg.
"That feel nice?" he asked.
Yes... the voice sounded relaxed, and the dragon let his eyelids close in pleaser. D'raco?
'Yeah, love?'
Why were you so far back?
'I thought none would Impress me after I touched the egg.' D'raco responded truthfully, though uncomfortably.
I choose you anyway.
'I know. And I love you for it.'
The two remained silent for the rest of the bath, until the blue was finally clean.
I tire from hatching. Can we sleep?
'Of course, love.'
Then, they both left for the Weyrling Barracks. Both shared little side comments, as D'raco slowly let it sink in that he'd never be alone again.
This is how you remind me of what I really am...
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- Serenity? Your lesson is beginning! -- Erila(Wilkith), 15:13:25 04/18/05 Mon
((Okay, timing it way back, I know, to just after Grenith clutched. I was thinking, and then it hit me that this post really neded to be done.))
I know, love. I don't like this either, but I want to get this out of the way before the Wingleaders givethe order. And, you are looking a bit brighter today.
Tush, I ate well yesterday!
Yes, but the Weyrleaders will want to be sure it isn't flight-lust, and we haven't been taking our twice a week firestone, have we?
No, and I understand. But, I congratulate Grenith! A fine clutch, even for one of my own color.
Oh, shut up, and eat.
Yes, dear.
Wilkith opened her mouth to recieve a large chunk of firestone, placed just so across her mouth, before she bt down. The green had experienced a bitten tongue from chewing firestone when it was ill-placed, and didn't like it.
"Serenity, Here, feed Chellith some firestone. The call will be coming out any day now, especially since Shrineth is so close to flying herself."
Must be extra careful, little sister. Don't chew it unless it feels just right. And think of another stomach, one that dones't tolerate food or water, only firestone.
Erila tossed Wilkith another bit of firestone, this one half as large as the other one. The big green grumbled, but placed it on her lower jaw, making tiny adjustments with her tongue before she bit down. The Master Dragonhealer-greenrider selected a small pile of stones, and tossed each to the chewing green in turn.
Best stand bock, rider-mine. I'm gonna blow.
Erila stepped to one side as Wilkith belched a full flame to the pile of firestone.
Must remember to turn towards the wall, next time, love.
Indeed. Sorry, I forgot how quickly I belch after I chew 'stone.
It's okay. I'll have to remember for the both of us.
As always.
Of course.
"Make sure that Chellith's facing the wall before she belches. I've got to see what damage we did to the firestone," Erila grumbled, good-naturedly.
She selected soveral peices, and grimaced at the burned smell that rose from them. Phospherous and sulferous at once.
She cleared away the outer rocks, and began handing them to Serenity.
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- [long-awaited return] -- S'sha and Kylith || T'yin and Viouth || R'nos and Leth, 14:14:16 03/28/05 Mon
"Shards," a woman's voice hisses into the wind of flight, "but it's gotten bigger since I last saw it, Ky." No response comes from the beast on which she's perched, but the riding-gear-concealed figure continues mumbling awed comments anyways as the dragon slowly circles the Perches in preparation for landing. The rising sun glitters tantalizingly along the well-defined curves of muscle and wing in shades of shimmering golden, and Kylith's proud head dips low as she dives shallowly, then backwings to make a dusty but light landing. Once the queen's sturdy talons are all securely on the ground, the rider strips off her helmet and goggles, revealing a tanned, lightly Threadscarred face and short-cropped redbrown curls that immediately fall to obscure greyed blue eyes.
We are home, Kylith announces after a few hours flying in mental silence, and she raises her snout to take a good, thorough look at the Weyr that she helped found. "That we are, dear heart," S'sha whispers reverently, slide-leaping from her lifemate's back to land with a graceless but balanced thump on the dry ground. The tall woman wanders over to the racks of newly-restocked weyrling gear and touches a riding harness as though in a dream. "A clutch... must be on the way. Can you tell, Ky, whose it is?" Shrineth has flown recently, or so the muttering says, the dragon replies, having 'tuned in' to the broadcasted conversations between dragons. "Who is Weyrwoman and Weyrleader now, then?" the queenrider asks, callused fingers suddenly tightening on the harness she had been idly stroking. Shrineth and her Wessae lead New Isle. The new Weyrleader... is Quilth and his T'bel. "Shards," S'sha snaps, spinning abruptly and erupting into a quick pacing gait back towards her queen. "So Ginny isn't here. Where by Faranth's Egg is she?!"
Calm down, rider-mine. Our companions arrive. Kylith lowers her great head to croon softly to her worry-stricken lifemate, and the middle-aged rider throws her arms about the long snout and hugs it tightly as the sound of dragonwings once more fills the air.
As the rising sun had shone so beautifully on golden hide, now it highlights an emerald beast with almost artistic beauty as she soars gracefully into view. The queen and rider part briefly and peer upwards as one, outer lids and one hand shielding two pairs of eyes from the intense light lifting behind the descending green. An easy backwing and a light landing places Viouth next to Kylith, and her rider--like S'sha only moments before--practically rips the sweat-soaked helmet from his head, freeing short but shaggy hair bleached blond by too many years working under the sun, and flings the worn gear to the ground with more vehemence than he usually displays. The green doesn't even have time to lean closer to the ground before her rider slides down her shoulder and lands in a crouch, rising immediately and striding quickly towards S'sha.
"Well?" he demands, pale green eyes more pleading than demanding, belying the sharp edge to his voice. The queenrider smiles sadly but compassionately, laying one hand on the younger man's shoulder and squeezing it firmly. "Wessae with Shrineth is Weyrwoman, T'bel with Quilth Weyrleader. There is no sign of Ginny or K'ith."
A tremor runs through the slender frame of the greenrider, stifled only by the tightening of S'sha's fingers on his shoulder. "And... J'neli...?" he whispers, eyes wide and unfocused now as hopes are dashed. "I don't know," the former Weyrwoman answers honestly, her hand slipping away. "A gold is easy to find, her name easy to hear in the public speaking of dragons... but... a blue, and a bluerider, of no rank... He may be here, T'yin, he may. We still need to search, and to ask around."
T'yin's eyes squeeze shut and two hands ball into fists at his slim hips, but after a moment of crying inwardly, the ex-Weyrlingmaster is calm again. He meets S'sha's concerned gaze evenly and nods, a brief promise of his stability. "Then I'll start looking right now." He turns back towards Viouth, whose snout is low and entire stance weary--it's not easy for a green to keep up with a gold!--until the buffet of wing-stirred air nearly knocks him down mid-step.
A massive, unusually long-tailed brown squeezes his bulk into the Perches with considerable skill, especially seeing as Kylith made no move to share her own space. T'yin and S'sha are caught off-guard by twin grins that show teeth at the sight of an old friend, and the big brown crouches to allow his rider to dismount with fair ease. The muscular figure waves from near his dragon's foreleg, and both other riders jog over to him out of the shadow of Kylith's arched neck.
"R'nos!" S'sha exclaims, enveloping the big brownrider in a tight hug. He laughs and hugs back, then slaps T'yin on the shoulder affectionately. "Glad to see I was following the right pair of crazy riders," R'nos rumbles, peeling his goggles and helmet off and tossing them to the ground, running gloved fingers through rather long brown hair. "You let it grow," the lean greenrider comments, a hint of amusement in his quiet voice, and the brownrider winks. "Didn't have anything better than my beltknife to cut it with, you know." S'sha snickers, then tugs on one of her own short curls, "How do you think we kept ours short, eh? Sharding brownriders and their laziness."
Leth lifts his head to regard Kylith and Viouth, faceted eyes sparkling and whirling healthily. I see we've all fared well in our few years away from New Isle, eh? he remarks to the two females. Kylith rolls her snout in a light shrug, Suppose so. I've had to keep this green on her wingtips, though. The gold pauses, then almost begrudgingly admits, But she's done alright. Not many dragons can keep up with me. Viouth stays silent, but if it were draconically possible, she would have rolled her eyes. Leth rumbles a laugh, almost uncannily like his rider, and replies: Not many dragons indeed! I was never able to catch up with you two, and we were too far away to try 'pathing you. But I knew a green-gold pair had to be Kylith and Viouth. The brown nods, as though satisfied with his accuracy, and Viouth shakes her snout slightly in amusement.
About three blurs of color suddenly erupt into the warming air above the riders' heads, shrieking and chirruping in a happy frenzy at being home. T'yin covers his ears in reflex as R'nos coaxes the brown to his shoulder and S'sha baits the blue and gold to her with promises of a good, thorough oiling later. Noticing the sudden resumed sadness of the greenrider, S'sha puts her hand on his shoulder again--a common enough gesture between the two, it seems. "I'm sorry about Daer, T'yin... but there are many flits, and many clutches probably even now on the Beach. If you want another..."
The greenrider shakes his head, soft strands of blond hair swaying with the motion. "No. A'rak gave me Daer... he was a gift as much as a friend. I'll not have another. He can't be replaced." Speaking of A'rak and his Kadoth... I think they're here, Viouth murmurs, and T'yin brightens somewhat. "We do have old friends here, at least," he says quietly, a faint smile crossing his face. R'nos laughs, "Wonder what they'll think when they see us? Especially you, S'sha... I can bet you Wessae won't be wanting to be Junior Weyrwoman again."
The goldrider throws back her head and laughs at that comment. "Though Kylith may disagree, my friend," she says after a moment, still chuckling, "I have no intention of leading a Weyr again. I'm over forty Turns now and Wessae is more than competent. I'm not here to replace her..."
"...we're all just here to be home," T'yin finishes for his ex-Weyrlady, and all three riders fall quiet and still as though simply absorbing the feeling of being home in a Weyr that green and gold helped build.
The only ones that notice the younger brownrider and greenrider also in the Perches are the fire lizards and Kylith, whose whirling eyes watch them incuriously without introduction--too much time in the wilderness has leeched all courtesy from the oft-broody queen.
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- Blush Reflections -- Noel(Karath), 19:03:52 03/09/05 Wed
Noel reappeared over the area known as the Perches on green Karath.
Land, my love. You must be itchy.
Very, Noel
Noel did a somersault number off of Karath's right leg, and jumpewd up. Her long braid whacked her in the face, and she winced.
Curse my hair
Noel used a wire-bristle brush to rub herbal oil into a flaky patch of hide on Karath's hind leg.
Is that better, Karath?
Much. But another itch is starting on the ninh neck ridge to the left and down a little.
I'm on it
Noel dutifully attacked the itchy spots that Karath mentioned, and did a thorough sanding of her wings.
Do you want to bathe, Karath.
Sure. My hide is hot
Karath plunged gratefully into the cool water of the lake, while Noel busied herself mending an older harness that she found lying about.
We need to get the Perches back into order. she thought to herself.
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- >Flamethrowers< -- I'mer & Svorath, 08:21:25 02/24/05 Thu
I'mer runs a Threadscored hand through his short black hair as Svorath lands neatly in the Perches, near the Thread-fighting gear. Vaulting off the brown dragon's back, he makes a beeline for the flamethrowers, wincing when he sees the untidy pile they've been left in. They probably got called off to see about that green clutch - or the Hatching Feast - and left them here without putting them away properly, he thinks, trying to be optimistic, as he kneels beside the pile and begins to sort them. As something of an expert on the delicate machines, I'mer knows just how few there are left on Pern, and how easy it is to wreck them. And though he was born in a Smith Crafthall, and knows a fair amount about their inner workings and how to repair them, he doesn't think he can build one from scratch.
But is that any excuse for abusing them? Svorath asks, wandering towards the lake. He rarely speaks unless finishing I'mer's thoughts, as he's doing now; they rarely disagree, and disagreements are sorted out in lightning-quick flurries of thought that are usually over before a telepathic sentence could even be spoken. They have the tightest rider-dragon bond they've yet seen, and quite honestly, they don't always know where one of them ends and the other begins. Their personalities had just meshed so exactly that they usually think along the same lines, and the thought of one literally becomes the action of the other - particularly in flight, whether it be flying Thread, flying greens, or just flying for the joy of flying. In circumstances such as this, where I'mer is doing something in which a dragon simply cannot be included, they may not act as one, but Svorath can still deplore the carelessness of young goldriders. While I'mer locates some tools and sits down with the flamethrowers, the brown slides happily into the cool lakewater. Usually, bright direct light - like today's sunlight - is neccessary to make it obvious that his hide is brown, not black. Dim light and shadows make him look more like a dragon-ghost or a statue, completely ebony, and at night he can simply close his eyes and blend in with the night sky. But as he steps into the water, it darkens his hide the trifling amount needed to once again instill that illusion of blackness. Leaving his human half to the mundane tasks of caring for the gear, Svorath dives underwater, luxuriating in the feel of a good, freshwater swim. It's been far too long.
None of the six flamethrowers I'mer finds are actually damaged, but they could all use a little polishing, a bit of a tune-up, and so he sits down with them and his tools to do just that. This, he's sure the goldriders could do, but it gives him something to be doing, now that he's found a weyr and tended his dragon and his gear. Svorath has only located one or two others from his old Weyr, not people he'd known well, and I'mer just isn't ready yet to dive into a group of strangers. For now, he'd rather do make-work and see if he can catch someone else alone when they come to the Perches. He's not shy - far to the contrary, in fact, for while the brownrider doesn't talk that much, he's very friendly. He just doesn't like being surrounded by a bunch of strangers, all at once, like he would be in the Lower Caverns. He'll make friends one at a time, if he can.
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- OOC that applies to IC -- Pup=san, 08:15:07 01/02/05 Sun
Weyrlings are herby adjourned for the Hatching Feast.
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- Stay busy!! -- B'nederra and Kierth, 17:22:04 11/25/04 Thu
B'nederra saw Rinali leave on Lilith, and Kierth told him what had happened.
Green Grenith has clutched, and she is upsetting the queens. But she isn't in such hot shape.
Kierth, the Weyrlings! Is anyone with them?
Mylanith's Talla is coming to supervise Tsuga and teach her how to work a flamethrower. Other than that, no B'nederra.
"Shards! Okay, let's go Kierth."
The bronzerider and bronze dragon flew to the Perches where he landed not too far from the weyrlings. R'yu was with a bronze weyrling who had burnt his hand, Erila was with two green weyrlings, one who tongue was bitten, and Erila seemed to be teaching the other dragon healing. He threw a wave at Erila, and settled down near the foremost weyrling.
He watched them, just to make sure that nobody got hurt. Bloody green, to have caused such mayhem!
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- C'mere, you -- Wessae~Shrineth, 12:50:13 11/23/04 Tue
Shrineth circles the Perches before finally deciding on a good landing spot. Take your sweet time, don't you love? Wessae inquires, rolling her eyes good naturedly as she prepares for landing.
Whatever do you mean? Shrineth asks with mock innocence as she settles fussily to the ground.
"I mean, we're LATE for training, silly. I had to stop and get these bloody things," she pats the flame throwers that she had balanced carefully in the pack harness in front of her.
They threw off my flying pattern. Shrineth grumbles. They can be taken away now. Wessae dutifully unloads her own flamethrower and then another one. Peering over the heads of the Werylings, she sets her mouth in a small frown.
"I can't find the new queenrider. Shrineth, please call her for me. And for the Egg's sake be polite. And specific. The last person you called flew halfway around the weyr before they found us."
Shrineth, not to be outdone, projects into the minds of every single dragon and human in the Perches. Her usual smug tone is prevalent in her words along with a 'receptionist' sort of voice. Would the newest queenrider pair please report to the Senior Weyrwoman please? We're waiting to advance your training. We're here in the Perches. About ten feet towards the entrance. Thank you.
Wessae just rolls her eyes again and grins. "You're a piece of work, you are."
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- Active Check -- Deystar, 09:42:51 11/20/04 Sat
There is an Active Check going on at the OOC Board. If you haven't already, please go there and confirm your activity.
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-
Hatred is Thicker than Blood -- Maria and Myth, 06:42:35 10/17/04 Sun
Maria and Myth walked into the perches, right up to the ramp used by riders to reach their dragons. Maria started to oil the blue male, her cheeks drawn in with the haggardness caused by her dragon's fatigue. He had given all out, and the green of his desires had chosen another male!
This is what I get for thinking that Humans were different.
She oiled his wings, taking care to cover each one with a complete coat of oil. Her hands were unsteady, and Myth couldn't stand still. He wobbled, his eyes greyish black. They burned into his rider's heart. Maria couldn't stand it. She flung her arms around her oily dragon, hugging him as close to her heart as she could.
Humans have hurt me for the last time.
Myth, please don't leave me alone!
Why would I do that, Maria?
You are so distraught, I thought...
You though that I would leave you? Oh, Maria...
Myth covered her with a protective wing. He couldn't hugg her as humans could, but Maria kne that he meant to hug her. She let herself cry for him, for the loss he had shared with her.
And now, I am alone, in the dark black of the world.
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