Boo
Jr. Weyrwoman 
booct[M:-425]
Shirath: THOSE aren't spirit fingers... THESE ARE SPIRIT FINGERS!!!
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Post by Boo on Sept 4, 2012 1:17:39 GMT -5
Turns of being bonded to the orange dragon allowed a few things for Lirone. She knew what it meant when the dragoness’s hide became lighter, brighter. It was a difficult thing to miss when Agrippith became tetchy and Lirone absolutely knew when her dragon was about to Fly. It had been a few turns since the last one, a while for Lirone to become accustomed to the Weyr, used to the people around Dalibor and, indeed, comfortable around the people inhabiting the Weyr. Still, there were some things she missed about her old Weyr and people she missed most of all. At the moment, Agrippith was in their personal Weyr, complaining, as she was wont to do.
Why the other day I flew to gather up some food but they refused. I demand to know why this is! I am a Queen in my own right, they should all bow before me and marvel at my strength and skills.
Lirone privately knew the reason the herders hadn’t given Agrippith food… It was because she had informed them that her dragon would be Flying soon and should therefore be limited. Agrippith, on the other hand, would hear none of it. When the time came, Lirone would have to rein in the dragon. To stop the orange from consuming the herdbeasts in her rage. Every single time, Agrippith wished to dominate and only when she was flying in the skies would Lirone give in. That said, more recently there was a mutual understanding between the two. Lirone maintained some semblance of herself following the incident back at Frontier.
And another thing. Why is it that you have not yet found me a strong dragon? Lirone, I was under the understanding that it was your job to find a good dragon. I’ve not had good suitors for a long time.
That was for you. The dragons will not bespeak me in interest for you.
Agrippith huffed and then sat up very straight.
Well, it is much too late now for you. I shall simply have to pick for myself. I shall soar to the heavens and any who do not follow will die.
They will not.
Well they shan’t spend a moment in my company.
With that comment, Agrippith leapt from the Weyr’s ledge and soared down to the pens.
If you eat that herdbeast I will lock my door and be most upset.
The emotional blackmail seemed to work as Agrippith descended upon one herdbeast and drank the blood then pounced on another, laughing with draconic pleasure as the animals ran from her in terror.
Take to the skies then my dear. Show them your brilliance.
The only time she would ever indulge Agrippith’s ego for now she was Agrippith and she too deserved attention. She deserved all the suitors.
The orange roared and shook the blood from her maw as she soared through the skies.
All who are worthy would follow me. Follow me through this sky and across the whole of Pern. Our reign shall be glorious!
Agrippith was Queen. She would find her King this day.
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Azhdarchid
Jr. Weyrwoman
azhct[M:-1490]
Totes.
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Post by Azhdarchid on Sept 5, 2012 12:01:36 GMT -5
Her announcement stabbed through them both, pinning in their guts an offering of warmth, and holding it down with the pain of separation. Halventh uncoiled from his rest against the bell wall of his lair and charged across the dark stone, kicking at the sister wall and pivoting before falling flat on his stomach. It took him a moment, but the young blue figured it out: he slinked out onto the ledge, neck bunched into curves, body undulating in thrall to fiery gleam below. L'xon ran out after him, looking off the ledge at the rampaging queen as he rested his palm on the powdery hide that had both forgotten and embraced him. He had to swallow before he could grant Halventh permission:
"Okay." He darted back to his blue's rigid arm, up to the naked seat between the neckridges. "Okay..." Why this one? She was not from Dalibor. Her temper was unproven. They couldn't have flown farther from her in their daily business, they in the high-flying Dawn and her sequestered with the other queens in Horizon. It was not as if Halventh knew her. But interrogation of the blue's philosophy was a uniquely L'xon-derived attribute, and his half of their partnership was being sloughed off by the second. His thighs twitched against Halventh's neck, and he leaned forward both to secure a grip on the ridge in front of him and to check his lifemate's eyes.
The facets rolled ruby, inner lids peeled into nonexistence, the glimmering surfaces bulging with an intensity L'xon had never noticed outside Threadfall and mockings of Wenth. Tongues of yellow-green formed a pulsating backdrop, Halventh not as entirely experienced with the exact process as his sudden hunger warranted. Well, L'xon thought as he sat straighter in his strapless saddle, he had a leg up on the eager little stallion there. Halventh teetered forward, then resettled on the brink, the yellow about his eyes shrinking to distant lightning in each ruddy landscape. "Take me to her weyr first," L'xon heard himself say with a calm he didn't feel. Given purpose, Halventh bunched up on the end of the ledge- and remained stuck there.
Desire washed out of him- them -like a loss of lifesblood, and L'xon's hands tightened on the bunches of blue hide around the neckridge's base as he leaned forward against it. He was about to demand the cause for delay when it struck out from the increasingly indistinct Halventh part of him. They both twitched at the words, the concentration required the most direct obstruction to their continued unity with Agrippith's call.
Where's that?
You know where it is. There's only a few hundred riders here. You know the name and rank of every one! L'xon protested to himself. Halventh's paling eyes swiveled around the Bowl, and his head jerked toward either side of their ledge before he cracked his jaws in a stymied squeal. Every one of them... L'xon was likewise searching the gaps in the wall, which all suddenly looked like the same incredibly dull and gray hole. He kept stealing glances back at Agrippith's dominance over the screaming foodbeasts. He could feel Halventh's forked tongue sliding out of his mouth.
Oh, Halventh said with a commanding little tic of his mind, at once completely buffered from Agrippith's summons. His beleaguered rider blinked dully. I'll ask Ambrith! He always knows! L'xon did not procure any resistance in time; they did need the help. Ammmmbbrrrrriiiiittth! Halventh called brightly. I need to know where the weyr where Agrippith's...Agrippith's thing...her thing that L'xon gets is. Like your...Day'ar, only it's hers.[/i] The blue recalculated his audience, recalling certain attributes of Ambrith. I need to know because, oh, uhm, I am bringing her dainties. The blue lengthened back out of his bunching and wiggled as he awaited a reply.
By either Ambrith's vast generosity, or some clunking of appropriate brain motes back together, Halventh knew where he had to go shortly after. He tore off his ledge and sailed south, crashing onto Agrippith's abandoned ledge with a clattering of claws. He and L'xon shook off their frail human part together, and the larger body shot off after Agrippith, while the smaller stumbled into the strange weyr.
He rocketed up to the Rim, which he skirted over with a narrow flip of his sky blue wings, then spiraled after the ascending orange. He roared to announce his presence, though to his very fine hearing it sounded oddly like a hatchling creel. He puffed his chest for a second go, but ended up swallowing too much air and listed as he gurgled it back out. He decided not to roar anymore. She could see him! He was right on her tail...wait...wait! He had overshot her with the frantic beating of his wings, which returned to him a punishing ache that crippled his turnabout. ...at least he was back behind her again.
Lashing his tail to cut short his groundward tumble, he picked out Agrippith's dot in the sky and sped after her anew. He caught up in a second feverish buzz of muscle and membrane, but this time suddenly lost his ability to trace the queen, and each of her graceful on-tail curves was acted out by the blue a second later in exaggerated pantomime. Finally she jerked in one direction that he did not anticipate in the slightest, and he overshot the distance again, but in his uncollected turn back toward the correct path was smacked in the face by a hard oceanborn wind and whirled away to the east with a squawk.
The fighter made good on his class, putting himself back vertical in the proper plane and powering in after the queen regardless. Sometimes he found a little well of good air to ride in her wake and used it to pull himself up almost wingtip to wingtip with her, but at that point he would lose focus and drop, sometimes literally batted away by the turbulence off her wingbeats. Each repeat of the incident, he knew he had to do something, and he was really all ready to do it, but each time he couldn't quite figure out what it was. So he just started flashing his head back and forth at the orange when he got close enough to tease her peripheral view. He was there. Pick him. Pick him! Before he- and Halventh was blown away like a leaf again.
L'xon found the room where Lirone lay in wait, but as he stopped beside her, he was already looking through her inconsequential form and home and out into the sky. Each burning proximity and loss of Halventh prompted a cycle of physically reactive agony in the blond. Muscles clenched, heats flashed through his legs, and the slightest disturbance in the air around him earned a flinch. His hands knotted into fists against the sides of his wherhide trousers and unclasped again. He had already been wearing his riding gear when Agrippith took over, and not a single thought from when he first swung his leg up on Halventh to now had been about the practicality of wearing a full fighting suit to a Flight. He hung there at Lirone's side, a pale echo of the shared lust that had stolen him to the skies with his dragon, each failure punctuated by a halfhearted sigh from his incidental body.
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kireon
Candidatemaster 
kirct[M:-191]
Posts: 739
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Post by kireon on Sept 5, 2012 21:36:30 GMT -5
Absolutely not. Ice blue eyes glared unyieldingly into a pair of ruby faceted ones, their wills crashing against one another as they did on a thrice, at least, a day basis. You chased one, got dinged up on that, and that's more than enough for the likes of you.
A huff blew his hair back from his face, and left the human unimpressed as Nelideth tossed his head, glowering imperiously down at him. I caught her, H'lios, she recognized a king in me and she was not disappointed. I gave her three wonderful children, one of which has gone to spread my magnificence to another weyr.[/i] His head whipped, the burning orange flame growing smaller by the second, his rage at another blue chasing her causing him to bare fangs in displeasure.
Something told H'lios that, had he Impressed an actual King, none of this would have been an issue and half the stupidity he endured every day wouldn't be a concern. I hope she tears you to shreds and keeps you from chasing for half a turn. He finally sent in response, launching himself up with the dragon's aid to the seat. He held on as they angled, and he was unceremoniously dropped off at Lirone's weyr. Don't you die, or I'll kill you myself, you vain herdbeast and wherry bastard spawn.
Maybe it was just his imagination, but he thought Nelideth had given him a brief nuzzle before spreading his large wings and soaring off after the flickering orange gleam in the distance. Troublesome beast, he thought as a haze began to take his vision, searing through his body. He turned and headed into the woman's weyr, acknowledging the other blue rider with a curt nod before his attention focused entirely on Lirone.
**
She was much lovelier than the first Orange he'd chased, Nelideth decided critcally as he prepared himself to delight her. Something about the spots blending into a darker shade on her tail was most appealing. His jaws parted, a song thrown to her as was her due as he angled through the rough air currents and drafts. He had been born near the seas, had learned how to deal with their difficulties and its temperamental winds while he'd been a mere fledgling dragon.
And the fairest of them all graces the skies with her beauty,[/i] He called out to her with pretty words, what he knew a queen would be thrilled to hear. the skies of Pern have never been privileged to such glory, and all should pay homeage to your greatness.[/i] He was a beauty, a true king in mind as well as spirit, the body was an illusion, a mere shell to hide the glory- much like her own. She was a Queen, not a sub-queen, he knew that in his very bones; she was like him, born and raised to hide that glory so that only the worthy, the truly worthy, would ever recognize it.
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Boo
Jr. Weyrwoman
booct[M:-425]
Shirath: THOSE aren't spirit fingers... THESE ARE SPIRIT FINGERS!!!
Posts: 1,917
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Post by Boo on Sept 9, 2012 16:28:28 GMT -5
The orange beast flew towards the sun, for the moment not looking back at who had joined in the chase. With the sound of a call, Agrippith huffed smugly. Some had certainly answered very quickly. The orange decided to test them, moving through the sky and changing directions every so often. It was only when she spotted something in her peripheral that made her pay attention.
A blue?
No blue had ever dared chase her! Show his face in her presence. SHE WAS A QUEEN! This blue she did not know. Peasant folk. If dragons could sneer, the haughty orange would be. As it happened, her lip was curling somewhat baring teeth as she turned her head slightly to look at the dark blue. Whilst she was processing this development, a voice entered her mind. Another blue. The blues of this Weyr were grown bold and daring.
Pretty words but was his meaning sincere? Did he truly see her as the greatest thing to grace the skies? Did she remember him? No. A transfer just like herself only she had been here longer. The first blue was young. They were both fast but Agrippith didn’t want to be caught yet. She barrelled past the blues, knocking them back as she soared towards the mountains.
A true King worthy of my attentions would not be unsettled. Come then. Prove yourselves worthy of me. For nary a blue has ever dared present themselves to me in such a way!
She had been caught by Kings! Kings had wanted her. Who were these fighters that they dare come near her and where were the Kings. She would tear any Kings from the sky should they choose to come near her. Any who ignored her call would be destroyed. She would destroy them.
“Hah. You would think to present yourself before me? Are you a jester or a king?”
Lirone stood proud and as haughty as her dragon, walking around the two men in her Weyr, looking them up and down. Her mind was merged with Agrippith’s now… she had let loose. With the challenge issued to the fighters, she had felt comfortable that her dragon would not kill them. There were no Kings in the sky… Nothing else to worry her. Would Agrippith choose a blue? It would be an interesting turn of events.
“Would you dance? Dance like a jester or order others to dance for you.” She stood behind H’ilos and placed her hands on either shoulder, standing close to him.
“How could you prove yourself?”
It was whispered in his ear before she abruptly pushed past him and walked over to L’xon.
“You!” She demanded suddenly, “Have you the maturity of a man or the stupidity of a child?”
For Agrippith had now discovered something. The first blue was but a mere hatchling. Young compared to her turns of experience. What did this mean? What could it mean? Hah. Nothing. It meant nothing. This was all about her. If they could continue following her, she would allow it. If they could Chase into the sun, she would let them.
PROVE YOURSELVES!
Many dragons would not keep up the tirade but Agrippith had always been one to continue speaking throughout a Flight. It kept those she wanted in the air and those she did not want away. Nothing like a few words to dissuade an unwanted suitor.
And if words failed, tooth and claw would succeed.
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Azhdarchid
Jr. Weyrwoman
azhct[M:-1490]
Totes.
Posts: 1,627
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Post by Azhdarchid on Sept 10, 2012 14:58:27 GMT -5
Halventh squawked as Agrippith took a more active role in her courtship, falling away for the umpteenth time. He had been sent down by the blow of her wings, but it was the swelling frenzy in her words that stalled his return. The young blue flipped upright and motored his wings like a wind-up toy, but his body quivered as he answered the call. L'xon was the same, trembling, ignorant of the other man and his blue, turning his dark eyes after the woman that teased and befuddled. It might not have been a mark of maturity that the wingrider reached for her on her next fleshy pass-by, but the display ended up interrupted anyway, by a thicker and colder arm, fresh from Between.
"So Dalibor is not in the business of sating her own queens," the interloper growled as he shook off the bewildered bluerider, whose shock was so great that Halventh faltered off in the sky. "Out of the way," the new man added, elbowing L'xon further from Lirone, then circling around before the orangerider and putting his back purposefully to H'lios. He was older than both of them, though not yet gray, more comparable to the woman under Agrippith's skin. And he was tall, cut sharp as riders tended to be...and wearing a set of fine silver-rimmed eyeglasses balanced low on the bridge of his nose. With his flight goggles still balancing up on his forehead, the overall image had one or two pairs too many of accusing amber eyes. He slipped his hand toward Lirone's waist, canting his head and drawing a glare across his spectacles as her face and dragon struck a chord: "But maybe they don't call you one of their own yet."
...Agrippith, another voice finished, or maybe he had been speaking the whole time, in powerful tandem with his rider, a prolonged echo to each spoken word like the flight of a boulder down a granite canyon wall. Why do you bother, when they are so small, and I am here? Though he was late to attend, the speaker was catching up to the entire procession rapidly. Each swing of his shining wingsails ate up the sky, and through his steady, straightforward progress he gained on the group, a whirling red eye keeping track of their progress- from above. Bronze-killer, your disapproval is legendary. Perhaps you ought show it to these insignificant pests.
When he finally deigned to progress out of the clouds, the third suitor shadowed the Flight beneath his broad wingsails, at first glance still bathed in cloudstuff himself. But it was his hide: pale, chalky, a smooth grey-tone like the sand of a rainsoaked shore. Smoke trails of darker monotone burnt erratic paths along his sides and wings, but all the variations lay contained beneath the mineral shimmer of a metallic coat, every motion outlined by the exaggerated passage of sunlight over muscle, and membrane. The shimmer broke only along his midback, where the wing material joined with his hide in a rippled chaos of knots, scored flesh gleaming orange and green.
The pale monolith coasted down toward Agrippith's back, his every wingbeat calm, without effort. He simply posted himself above the randy orange and waited. His lips peeled back once at the two blues- his gums were also a muted blue -in warning.
With the wind puffing off not one, but two large dragons now challenging his advance, Halventh struggled to even keep up. His early tries had tired him, and now his jaws hung wide in a disjointed attempt to collect his breath even as his lungs were squeezed between his pumping wing muscles. In Threadfall, there were many drilled strategies for navigating the turbulence of the greater dragons. But in Threadfall, he had a rider. Their shared memory was far more finessed than Halventh's alone. If he just had more experience, he could probably access both threads of himself even now, like Nelideth, or the enormous king gliding above. But his present newness hampered his progress as surely as the blowback off the wings of his challengers.
Halventh himself ran on the unfiltered ignorance of his context. Even as his wings screamed for an end, he continued zipping close to Agrippith's belly and swirling unevenly around her, not quite up to crooning sweet words at her like his elders, but occasionally spurting out a hatchling-like squeak from his burning throat. L'xon echoed his pains with soft moans of protest, but they were still as-one in their pursuit of the orange queen, no disagreement from either infatuated party. There was always the threat of bursting a dragon's heart, or tearing his wings in the Flight, a risk magnified at the young and the old extremes of the spectrum, but the L'xon-part of them didn't- couldn't -detect that kind of desperate severity in his system yet.
The ironrider in the room smirked at the obvious signs of impending failure, something an experienced pair would never have offered to the group. "Ios'kal," he whispered to Lirone, adding even more quietly: "Of Frontier." His voice surged back to its calm layer of confidence. "Anirteth and I will make this easier for you."
[ OOC: A wild NPC appears etc. ]
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Post by thyme on Sept 13, 2012 17:18:26 GMT -5
Hilth laid out under the sun on his ledge half-slumbering, half-watching the restless orange dragon on her ledge. The brown knew the signs of a dragon about to go into heat. She would soon and he would be ready to answer her challenge. Agrippith did not disappoint as not to much later she leapt off her ledge and headed to the feed pens. {R’kin! R’KIN!} The brown yelled realizing that his rider was not in their weyr. {What?} R’kin answered sounding irritated as he sifted through a large pile of hides in the record’s room. He didn’t like to be disturbed when he was working. {Agrippith’s rises! I chase!} Hilth announced. R’kin groaned but his brown was having none of it. {Get your butt back to our weyr otherwise you can run yourself up to Agrippith’s weyr.}
R’kin sighed putting down his papers and standing up to stretch. He doubted he would get any more work done today which bothered him as he had hoped to finish today. He always liked to get is work done in an efficient manner. He didn’t like unnecessary delays. {Hurry!} The brown insisted as R’kin quickened his steps towards his weyr. The brown was standing anxiously on his ledge watching as the bright orange dragon latched on to her second herd-beast. He was practically quivering in anticipation. Agrippith roared as she launched herself into the sky. There were several answering roars as two blues gave chase. R’kin broke into a run arriving at their weyr just when Hilth was considering abandoning him to walk. Hilth barely waited for R’kin to get settled on his back before winging up to drop him off at her weyr.
Hilth beat his large wings in powerful downward strokes in order to close the sizable gap between him and the orange. He was large for a brown affording him enough strength to put on a decent burst of speed but still have the stamina to follow the glowing orange across all of Pern! He caught up to the race just as an iron appeared in the sky in pursuit. The iron flatly insulted the blues and although they were also Hilth’s competitors he could not help but snarl at the iron. When he wasn’t consumed with flight lust, Hilth was a very loving dragon and even in flight he wouldn’t stand for rudeness. Every dragon had worth! {I am here, Agrippith!} He announced, {I will follow you across all of Pern.}
R’kin threw open the door into Lirone’s weyr standing stoically tall and silent as he surveyed the other riders present. He was not yet so lust enthused that he couldn’t see them clearly. He brushed his dark brown hair out of his face before his equally dark brown eyes settled on Lirone. Her curly hair was tied back from her face. She was thin but well-muscled. Her dark brown eyes were alight with the lust that R’kin was beginning to feel himself. ‘She will be mine,’ He thought although that was more dragon than him. “We are plenty capable of sating our own Queens,” He said calmly in response to the usurper as he walked slowly, purposefully into the room.
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kireon
Candidatemaster
kirct[M:-191]
Posts: 739
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Post by kireon on Sept 14, 2012 21:14:01 GMT -5
If a dragon could have smirked, Nelideth would have as she barreled on past. Of course a queen like her would play difficult, it simply wouldn't be a challenge if she just accepted him at face value. He angled his wings, catching a current and glided calmly, serenely after. As my queen commands,[/i] he crooned. She was powerful, he was powerful. She was a challenge, he was most certainly a challenge himself. Agrippith was beautiful, and, well, he was simply gorgeous as he continued to chase, now beginning to feel the effects of the effort needed to catch up with her. Stupid H'lios and his resistant, slow tendencies. They would work on that. Later.
After he'd accomplished what he'd set out to do.
**
H'lios gave the woman before him, poised like the queen her dragon was, the very ghost of a smile. Her words, her movements felt rather natural, he wondered if she'd had to practice, or if her dragon's confidence had instilled a sense of strength within her. She liked to play difficult, much like her dragon, he could do the same. He'd lived with Nelideth, after all. He'd yet to meet a woman anywhere close to half as troublesome as that gigantic blue wretch. His eyes did narrow, however, at the sight of a cocky new arrival. On your guard, Nelideth.
There was no response but a burst of anger from the blue. He'd seen, or sensed, the Iron before H'lios had seen the rider. Judging by the red haze, the dragon was just pissed enough to actually be challenged by the much greater dragon, but still calculating and level headed enough to try and make things work against the late-comer. Good, he and his dragon both would revel if the iron wound up shredded, perhaps his dragon would even offer his aid in taking the interloper out of the skies.
H'lios icy eyes flicked to the soft moans from the boy, poor kid, hadn't yet learned how to teach his dragon the strategies of Flight. Might even be his first, come to think of it. There was a mild moment where he felt for the lad, remembering his own first flight, but squashed it ruthlessly back down. It was a man's world now, he would have to learn this quickly, or lose himself and his dragon as a result. Unless she gave the signal, he would not strut about like an arrogant wherry presenting his feathers; this man was late and any self-respecting queen would cast disfavor upon those not prompt to her call.
His annoyance was somewhat increased by the arrival of a brownrider, though the rider's words did much to encourage his plan of having the outsider taken down a few pegs. Still, other than the near-predatory flick of a pale glance to take in his competitors, his attention hadn't left Lirone for longer than that dismissive glance toward the others.
**
Hmph, an iron with no manners. Even if he was a king in caste, how dare he show up late to the queen's call? Fool, he dearly hoped the dragon would be assaulted for his slight against her. How ill mannered that one is, arriving so late after your glorious challenge. He thinks himself superior to you, that you should be honored that he take time to pursue you![/i] The brown was just as annoying, though he was from the Weyr and not as important a threat as that rude Iron was.
A queen was deserving of respect, and that Iron, and the Brown to a lesser extent, were certainly lacking as far as he was concerned. Time to sweeten the deal, just a little. He was a sweet voiced king, after all. My queen grows more brilliant, more lovely by the moment with her glow. That iron wishes to eclipse your beauty with his hide, wishes to cloud the sun so that none may worship your glory as is your due.[/i]
Usually he would know, and care very little of color, but his memory, with H'lios rigorous teachings, was keen- and blue was the perfect compliment to the orange. ...if only because H'lios had commented on it. Anything H'lios commented on was worth picking apart, or keeping as valuable. Depending on what was said, of course.
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Boo
Jr. Weyrwoman
booct[M:-425]
Shirath: THOSE aren't spirit fingers... THESE ARE SPIRIT FINGERS!!!
Posts: 1,917
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Post by Boo on Sept 15, 2012 19:07:19 GMT -5
A voice in her mind. Unwelcome. Unwanted. She had called for them but they had not come. He had not come before. Just as this voice entered her mind, someone entered Lirone’s chambers. The woman turned and eyed the newcomer narrowly. She watched him as he circled her, dark lust filled eyes taking in his every movement but slowly, these eyes became cold as the emotions of her dragon filled Lirone. A hand slipped around her waist and Lirone struck out, slapping his hand away just as Agrippith hissed in the air.
Bronze killer. As the words permeated her mind, the memories came back to her. The pain of her rider’s disapproval. The sadness she had felt at the loss. They had come here for a fresh start and this Fronteir dragon had come to ruin all that. Rage filled the orange as she canted her head to look at the Iron. He was gaining on her. Demanding that she show her strength.
Oh, she would show her disapproval.
Snapping a tad at Nelideth, Agrippith dropped back near the orange.
You would request such a display? She asked the Iron flirtatiously, They will know my strength. They will see my disapproval.
Suddenly the danger in her tone was made apparent and Agrippith lashed out. The orange sprung upon the iron, scrabbling with him jaws wrapping around his leg and claws tearing through his hide. Agrippith roared again. So enraged was she with this iron that she barely even noticed the late arrival of the brown. She wanted to rip him in half, tear his wings from his body that he might never be able to chase her again. Never again would he come to her Weyr in such a manner. Any part she could she would scratch but she would not kill him. He needed to be made an example of. Any who mocked her would be dealt with similarly.
In her Weyr, Lirone grabbed at Ios’kal’s clothes, dragging him close to her.
“You would dare show your face here? You are not welcome.”
She hissed it into his face, rage showing on the normally calm woman’s face. All rage from Agrippith, that these people had reminded Lirone of the pain she had felt. The reason she had left the Weyr. The grip tightened as though Lirone wanted nothing more than to choke the life from the man before her but then something reigned her in. A part of the woman returned and she thrust the male away from her.
“Take your dragon and get out of my Weyr.”
Now she noticed the newcomer, the one who had stood up for her. Calm returned to her in some small way but there was still an anger that burned deep inside the woman.
This led Agrippith to give leeway to the brown. She would not harm him although he had arrived late. His rider had done for Lirone what she could not. Had made her feel better about herself after this rude interjector. Hide and jaws stained with ichor, she pushed the iron away from her. The blue’s words were pretty but she wanted someone else, someone who would be appropriately, hilariously, befuddled by her beauty. He had said not a word to her, too dumbfounded by her magnificence and he was the one she would have.
You have not said a word, my mysterious blue.
Agrippith drew in line with Halventh, the Young. Halventh the Quiet. Halventh… Hers. She wrapped her tail around his and looked at the young blue.
All others would leave. I have made my choice. Iron. Should I find you in this Weyr longer than you ought… Your death will be slow.
Although he had reached out to her before, Lirone wanted him. L’xon could be there for her in some ways. He had shown respect and although he was young she would not go against her dragon now. Already she had stopped Agrippith killing the iron… She could not disobey her Queen with this too.
“You are my king this night.”
Lirone pressed her forehead to L’xon’s, eyes flickering briefly to glare at the ironrider over L’xon’s shoulder. Her expression was softer as it passed over H’ilos and R’kin but still, the dismissal in them spoke volumes as she pulled L’xon to her furs.
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Azhdarchid
Jr. Weyrwoman
azhct[M:-1490]
Totes.
Posts: 1,627
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Post by Azhdarchid on Sept 16, 2012 10:48:15 GMT -5
The thick curve of Ios'kal's mouth wrinkled at the rejection, and the ironrider fell back a step. It wasn't enough, as the object of his sport reeled him back in to snarl at him with her dragon's disembodied rage. Anirteth took the physical blunt of it, and the warnings against their lingering rapidly became unnecessary. With a throat full of contained curses, the Frontier rider adjusted his glasses and flipped his flight goggles back down over them. He and Anirteth actually did have to stay for as long as it took them to accomplish the humiliating task of delivering various missives while bloodied and hot in the bones, but they would be vanished before Agrippith returned to roost.
Halventh was sagging more than flying, wingbeats longer and longer between his declining glides, eyes rolling with more than lust. Spastic thrusts of his pinions every few cycles got him back level with the rest of the squad, but generally behind. He spent most of his time ogling Nelideth's pale rump in hopes of spying the queen beyond. But then the overcast from the iron king faded. Halventh's tail twitched as he was addressed directly. His wings fluttered. The tops of his facets caught the descent of a sunbeam, and he craned his weary neck to look more closely.
The queen came down on him like molten fire, ichor dripping from all her claws and spattering onto his upturned beak. The blue squawked, but did not turn aside. She surrounded him. Though his wings beat in fervent bursts a few more times in the first handful of moments, he stilled them to a glide after.
L'xon used the precious seconds of lucidity while Lirone-Agrippith announced her acceptance of him to unclasp his belt and strip one arm of his flight jacket before he followed her into bed. Halventh's inexperience excited him. The dragon achieved a clarity in the resulting sensations that L'xon had never enjoyed on his own. Every moment was directly transcribed to him without filter or the twist of guilt. The instinctive demand to hold on had him playing at being Halventh longer than Halventh himself. The question of whether or not the queenrider had to deal with this devotional, contextless desire from the very start of the Flight had him crushing the bedfurs in his fists.
"You're amazing." The comment finally surfaced long after Halventh had been freed of his attendance to Agrippith and was laboring just off the sea in his long flight home. Though shared with physical enthusiasm to Lirone, the remark was not genuinely to her and hers. It marked a separation, L'xon mostly back in his own body and Halventh mostly back in his. Halventh did not quite make it back to the Weyr before landing: he dropped into the first flicker of silver sand he spotted, and splashed up the western shore toward the lights of the crater, wings folded. L'xon rolled onto his back, chest and stomach rising and contracting on each breath. He could still respond to further calls, at least for a little while, but his eyes were already closed in the hopeful likelihood that he was no longer needed.
Halventh's nose was nearly dragging on the stone as he made his final hitched step into the Bowl. Nostrils flaring, he looked up at Dalibor. To the fullest span of his voice, to dragon, wher, flit and man, the West and perhaps a good chunk of all Pern, he announced:
I DID IT. I AM THE GREATEST!
The young blue then collapsed where he stood, wings peeling apart and splaying around his fallen form as he began to snore.
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