Azhdarchid
Jr. Weyrwoman 
azhct[M:-1490]
Totes.
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Post by Azhdarchid on Oct 31, 2012 13:51:28 GMT -5
He had meant it in a general, good-for-you way. An unexpectant way, because enthusiasm would have required dispensing with the greater and more ancient pragmatism in his heart. By Candidate standards, Viyeri was old. Nearly a wash-out. And the clutch of two oranges wasn't the grand old feast of a queen's, where one needed only to bump into one of the infinite crawling babies to Impress (somewhere in the back of his mind, he noted that his own dragon had come from the minute blip of a tan's Hatching). For all his well-wishing, L'xon sensed that he had only bothered so much with Viyeri because he expected him not to be a Candidate much longer, and to settle to some other work. "Some other work" was now the historical familiarity to the bluerider, and he could still cling to it.
Instead Halventh had done just as he said: sent one of his own offspring bumbling straight into the other holdbrat. A viridian, too. The color had seemed almost washed out of the population, exotic even though his best friend already rode one. L'xon understood viridians very well: they were good. Their fundamental righteousness was rare in dragonkind, which for the most part was a parade of flippancy driven by absent memories and bestial traditions. Not just that, but it was Halventh's very seed. None of Halventh's hatchlings had gone amiss, and though part of him admonished the rest for holding one Flight's results so personally, his overall mood had already turned proprietary. Halventh's own interest was no doubt exacerbated beyond its natural limits by his rider's fierce love of the clutch, whereas through all Agrippith's gravidity and nurturing, both male parties had kept their disinterest. That wasn't fair, but he couldn't contemplate right now whether the next time would be different.
He was uncharacteristically preoccupied with the now. Not hungry or tired, he had attended the feast and observed the hatchlings more tightly throughout, then left before them into the Bowl. He was struck again by their smallness: just the point that the ones not already put to bed could amble freely up and down the Hall benches was a shock. It would take only months for them to reach flying size, but right now they were little more than their eggs.
Viyeri's was different. Why was he different? Well because he had the most scintillating sea-green color, L'xon decided, though he had never before been particularly impressed by one color or pattern over another. That was his wife's business, and her taste had been horrible. Viyeri's- V'yeri's, he re-pronounced silently, as troublesome as it came out for a word -was plainly intelligent. L'xon could tell. He could tell because...because V'yeri's had built some little nonsense castle two breaths out of the egg.
"V'yeri's" has his own name, a blue voice intruded slyly. When L'xon did not look away from his sentry on the mouth of the Dining Hall, a long, smooth dragon head dipped off its lofty heights to sidle up beside him, an eye somewhat bigger than L'xon's whole head hovering alongside his hip and thigh so as to roll its azure facets up at him. The rock underneath them trembled as Halventh adjusted the placement of his pentadactyl front paw to facilitate the gesture. But not even his regal begging stirred his rider, and Halventh was forced to bump one of the blond's legs with the side of his jaws. L'xon toppled back a step, then straightened up and blinked at him. It's Vespasiath, Halventh noted in a dry voice accompanied by a whiny physical croon. L'xon blinked again, suddenly a daft boy unlike the one Halventh had Impressed.
It's the same sharded thing! he finally replied, then resumed awaiting the emptying of the Dining Hall's contents. Halventh's head bobbed back and his eyes whirled in surprise, mostly at the language, then the blue chuffed in laughter's draconic equivalent. He'd been playing shadow to his man since L'xon had stepped out, and what a grand echo he was, jaws on the height of the little Weyrling building's archway when he stood back up. The ending of the feast had been marked by the ending of the day, with the sun parting through the long lines of clouds. The rain had not let up, but L'xon had not marked the cold of it. Puffs of mist coagulated in the Weyr's corners, and migrated in milky silver patches across the Bowl.
Halventh's eyes saw even through fog, and the blue kindly lent imagery of a familiar shape had materializing from the Hall. L'xon moved forward and Halventh pranced after, eyes a couple bobbing lights in the mist, aglow with interests beyond himself for once.
"V'yeri!" L'xon called as he came upon the new Weyrling from the side and slightly behind. He advanced right up to the other young man, not breathless since he was a rider and short jogs did not come close to phasing him, but almost energetic in his waving, and in the way he rocked in his wherhide boots, and nearly collided before wisely retracting his last step. "You have made it," he announced, relief and other things bringing out a beaming smile.
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Kestrel
Wingrider 
kestct[M:821]
Posts: 374
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Post by Kestrel on Nov 2, 2012 5:07:38 GMT -5
All told, the day had been quite an exhaustive ordeal. Hatchings always were—the hope of impressing, the fear of impressing, fear of getting mauled by a grumpy dragonet, fear of leaving the sands without one—reminded that yet another hatching had gone by, and likely half a turn with it, in which V’yeri had made no progress toward his future. What ‘future’ that was, V’yeri was never sure, but he was quite certain he was messing it up somehow anyway. And yet this hatching had induced even more turbulence to his mind than all the others combined. V’yeri had done nothing different, not really—he had approached the hatching just as he had the others. The many, many others, as it felt by now, though he supposed it was only two. But it had gone entirely differently than the others—fate had acted upon him, and fate’s name today was Vespasiath.
V’yeri was no stranger to confusion and mixed whirlwinds of feelings he couldn’t put names to, but impression went much beyond that. It was as though his whole mind had decided to restructure itself—to take everything that was him, and everything that was Vespasiath, and repackage it all, making something entirely new. And he’d supposed he’d somewhat expected it to be like that, even if he hadn’t expected to experience it himself. He had just thought it would be faster. A quick moment of bliss, the rapture of impression, and by the time it faded and the rainbows had ebbed, the new rider would be left changed before he’d even realized it, complete and happy in his new existence. And V’yeri was happy, certainly. But while he wasn’t opposed to change in theory, he had always had more trouble dealing with it than he would have liked. But he’d adjusted to everything else life had thrown at him yet; surely he would with this happy new development as well.
He was mostly occupied with trying to keep all such perplexing thoughts from crossing over the newly-formed bridge to the mind of the green dragon walking proudly beside him, as he made his way at last out of the dining hall. Despite the confusion, he felt nothing but love for Vespasiath—it was a remarkable experience to have any creature, let alone a dragon of such evident good nature, be proud to be his companion. Still, amid all the chaos and the drained feeling that had begun to settle on him midway through the hatching feast, V’yeri was glad indeed to hear a familiar voice. Surely if anything could ground him and help reconcile his pre and post-impression lives, it was the company of his friend.
Is that Halventh?[/color] the dragon asked, stretching his neck into the fog as both he and V’yeri turned to see the approaching figures they must have walked by. Indeed it is. And L’xon, too—he’s a good friend of mine, and I certainly don’t have many of those. You should meet him. His face brightened into a smile as a very enthusiastic L’xon came close enough to see properly. “L'xon, I was hoping I might run into you somewhere! Were you waiting for me, or just enjoying the, ah, fine water contents of our atmosphere today? I hope it hasn’t been long.”
“I suppose I did make it, didn’t I? No one’s more surprised than me, I can tell you that much! I should thank Halventh too, shouldn’t I? He’s a fine handsome fellow, just like his father. Though actually, I think he looks a little like me, too—he’s almost bonier than I am!” Vespasiath was less than pleased with this conclusion, and stood up taller, fixing an indignant gaze on his rider. I am not bony, I am built for speed![/color] V’yeri let out a long, tolerant sigh, dropping his shoulders. “Right, fast, I meant. Or something. I did say handsome too, you know.” Despite trying his best to play long-suffering, he couldn’t keep a smile off his face for too long.
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Azhdarchid
Jr. Weyrwoman
azhct[M:-1490]
Totes.
Posts: 1,627
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Post by Azhdarchid on Nov 7, 2012 13:35:24 GMT -5
Halventh flicked his nose up at V'yeri's praise, but soon had his head down near Vespasiath, the many windows of his eyes reflecting the viridian's silky figure.
Hello, he chirped, avoiding rudeness. He wondered if Vespasiath being his entitled him to pick up or chew on the hatchling. It was a thought that would only come to resolution later. Right now he was mostly into looking, and sniffing at his new son. Cinnamon-sweet puffs of warm breath fluttered through L'xon's yellow hair and blew the mist back from their meeting place, but Halventh's saccharinity could not keep the rain off their heads. L'xon, dripping, grinned with a kind of new-fledged madness of enthusiasm as V'yeri responded to some comment by his hatchling.
He caught on to his own happiness and slid back a step with a reassuring smile. Calm, composed L'xon was still here, see? And when he advanced again, he oriented himself on Vespasiath instead of his would-be rider. He wanted to ask if he could feel the hatchling's nascent facial features, and perhaps give Halventh a tactile impression to go with his other senses. But this close to the viridian, he could see- and suddenly, feel -the swatches of cold water aggregating on all their hides.
"Mm," he chuckled to himself. "Uh, you should get into the barracks. I'll come with you. Hopefully the 'folk have already moved your things from the...the other barracks, but if not I can get them moving on it." The bluerider lifted his eyebrows imploringly at V'yeri. "A cold wouldn't be the best start to Weyrlinghood," he observed, tone deepening to patriarchal. L'xon was not asking V'yeri's opinion on any of this, nor making his usual inquiry as to whether asking for permission would be appropriate at this juncture. He turned toward the Weyrling Barracks and waved his hand over his shoulder at the ex-Candidate. Very move along, kid.
Halventh followed, his eye rolling toward V'yeri as his head rose out of proximity with Vespasiath. The blue rumbled long and slow as he ambled after his rider- it was almost a croon. Except most croons did not rise in challenge to distant thunder.
As L'xon passed under the entry arch, he started talking without quite looking to see if V'yeri had actually followed him home. "You're so strange." This was a late, kindly reply to V'yeri's notice of the weather. L'xon could not quite pick up on the source of his enduring relief over the other lad's bonding. Some deeper contemplation suggested that he was always going to be better acquainted with fellow riders, the rest of his life. Hold folk were nice, worth protecting. But other riders could knit into his mind surely as dragons communed every moment of every day: for them, words were thick and binding as blood. "Let's see if your room 's decent," he proposed, finally looking back at the Weyrling.
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Kestrel
Wingrider
kestct[M:821]
Posts: 374
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Post by Kestrel on Nov 9, 2012 6:46:40 GMT -5
The viridian stiffened up quite a bit as he was examined, though he wasn’t trying to be unfriendly—he was just trying to make himself as big and grand as he could, and trying not to move too much lest he ruin it all. He wanted the father of his clutch in particular to have a high opinion of him, after all. Greetings,[/color] he said, just as stiff as his posture. He couldn’t have created a more obvious dichotomy between himself and his rider if he tried—V’yeri wasn’t even close to trying to look dignified, soaking in the rain as they were, and finding L’xon’s enthusiasm reigniting a bit of his own post-impression giddiness.
At L’xon’s shift to a more commanding air, V’yeri pretended to look up at the sky as if he’d just now noticed that it was dribbling copious amounts of water all over their faces that very moment. “Why yes, it does appear to be raining, doesn’t it. Do you mean to say you don’t enjoy being out in such nice weather as this? This batch of dragons sure knew how to pick a good hatching day…” V’yeri normally hated rain to the point where he would do just about anything possible to avoid being outside in it, but today was special. Not to mention he was almost used to it, by now—it seemed he’d spent more of the day wet than dry. The new weyrling’s grin only seemed to widen the more authoritative L’xon got. “Are you offering to go boss people around for me? That’s so thoughtful of you! I guess we’ll have to go find out.”
He ambled along just behind L’xon as they completed the trip to the weyrling barracks, getting inside at last. V’yeri just smiled at the comment, not really in the mood to pretend to be wounded. “You call it weird, I call it an appreciation for the dramatic and the humorous,” he said, self-satisfied as could be.
Vespasiath seemed ill-inclined to show it, but he was just as glad to be out of the rain as V’yeri, and gave his wings a few shakes to clear some of the water off. V’yeri studied the roster for a moment before moving off toward the one assigned to him, opening the door and allowing Vespasiath to enter first. He swept his hand forward in a silly flourish to gesture L’xon in before him, then went inside himself. His eyes lit up as he made a quick round through the room, checking the chest contents, and he was evidently pleased. “Well, all of my things appear to be here! And only my things—I’d almost forgot, I won’t have a roommate anymore! Well, not unless you count dear Vespasiath. Still, it’s certainly bigger than my candidate room. But I suppose you would know better than me which rooms are the best, wouldn’t you? So what’s your verdict? Please don’t tell me the roof leaks.”
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Azhdarchid
Jr. Weyrwoman
azhct[M:-1490]
Totes.
Posts: 1,627
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Post by Azhdarchid on Nov 10, 2012 19:59:48 GMT -5
What do you think?
Pretty "strange," Halventh murmured in a tone that had L'xon replying a wordless note of reproach. The blue snorted, sitting down beside the barracks. He could still fit down the old halls, but had no desire to cramp himself back inside. He did tilt his head a little to watch Vespasiath twitch his wings clean. His own blue hide iced with silver under the rain, outline lost in the dimming atmosphere. I don't think he would have picked you, was all he could offer in clarification.
Good. Why would I want him? I've got the prime cut.
Halventh really did melt away with the rain at that.
L'xon spent more time in the hall than V'yeri, checking the assignment and room slates for a better context of the environment the new Stormsingers would be enjoying. He finally stepped into the room with a glance along the metal frame marking the entryway. He slipped his thumbs into his beltloops, continuing to survey the area as V'yeri chittered his own appraisals. His face was craned toward the ceiling when he finally answered:
"If the roof leaked, I imagine we would've noticed by now." The bluerider smiled back down at V'yeri, dark eyes relaxed by some deepset satisfaction. "Halventh and I had a room to ourselves too, but that was just because our class was...strange. Vespasiath will earn into all this quick, and then some." He glanced at V'yeri's trunk, rocking his weight from leg to leg absently. "I guess I can't do anything for you." The rider glanced down himself. "Although I'm certainly contributing," he said, lifting his left boot briefly onto the toe to get a better look at the oozing puddle of rainwater. "To your very first chore even."
Looking directly up at V'yeri, he gave his head a small but purposeful dog-like shake, flicking rain off his yellow crown. He sniffed at the mist slow to leave the air. "I think I need to cut my hair." He peeled a few water-heavy strands off his cheek. "He needs to sleep, doesn't he?" L'xon lifted his chin toward Vespasiath. "I should go." But he lingered anyway, rotating one shoulder till he eked a pop out of it. "You're not off for slates this Winter though." He pantomimed a slate cruising down a snowy bank with his hand. "Not even for a dragon."
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Kestrel
Wingrider
kestct[M:821]
Posts: 374
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Post by Kestrel on Nov 17, 2012 18:04:40 GMT -5
V’yeri had not really expected a weyr to house dragonriders, even young ones, in leaky rooms, but he was relieved to hear L’xon confirm it all the same. “Oh, I don’t know about that! I wouldn’t exactly credit you dragonriders as the most observant types, what with spending half your time talking to voices in your head and all that. Tends to be a bit distracting, doesn’t it? But maybe I’m just not used to it yet.” He drummed his pale, dripping fingers against each other thoughtfully. “And I suppose I have to say ‘we’ dragonriders now, don’t I? Isn’t that something. I never thought myself very suited for a dragon. I guess the searchrider was right after all.”
“Strange?” He repeated, while his eyes traveled around his room with satisfaction that evidently wasn’t going to fade for a while. It was bigger even than his room in Bitra—albeit much sparser, since most of the room was designed simply to shelter a half-grown viridian. “I haven’t seen a hatching here yet that didn’t seem strange in one way or another.” He glanced at the small puddle accumulating under L’xon, and waved a hand dismissively. “Oh, don’t worry about that. You’re not doing any more damage than me or Vespasiath already are. Less, probably—I’m always amazed by how much water I seem to soak up even after hardly any time in the rain at all. Talk about useless talents. I’m sure Fortune will like all the water around, at least.”
V’yeri frowned, suddenly looking around the room again and peering under the bed, but he didn’t seem to find what he was looking for. “Actually…where has that silly bug gotten off to? I thought something seemed too quiet…” The brass was a nuisance at the best of times, but V’yeri couldn’t help but feel a fondness for him, and his expression grew worried. “Do you think he’ll be all right? Pillies live in water, so I suppose even this weather can’t hurt him much…perhaps he waddled off to the lake during all the moving confusion. But it’s probably a bad idea to go looking for him today, I suppose…”
He did his best to brighten, though, when L’xon suggested leaving, though. “Oh, I don’t think he minds—right, Vespasiath?” he said, casting a smile toward the viridian, who had discovered his stone dragoncouch and curled up quite regally, though he looked somewhat comically small in the center of such a large surface. His head, however, was held up proudly on his long neck, watching the two humans talk. The dragon let out a soft rumble, and V’yeri turned back to L’xon with satisfaction. Truth be told, the viridian’s presence in his mind was starting to grow decidedly heavier with sleepiness, but it ran too contrary to V’yeri’s host training to ever kick anyone out or make them feel unwelcome. And it was always a bit sad to lose the company of a friend anyhow.
His eyes lit up at the mention of their peculiar winter hobby. “Wouldn’t dream of it. I need to work on my technique, after all—I’ll be better than you if you’re not careful. And I think Lexy and I will be due for a rematch.” He had moved off with new purpose toward his trunk, locating the board resting against the wall beside it and holding it up proudly. “Got it right here! I’m certainly glad they brought it over, though I imagine they were probably somewhat confused as to what it was.”
What is that?[/color] Vespasiath asked, breaking his silence at last as he cast a critical light blue gaze on the strange wooden object. V’yeri turned to him with a smile. “It’s for fun!” Fun?[/color] he said, voice edged with distrust. Vespasiath was highly suspicious of fun.
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