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Post by Admin on Mar 8, 2011 13:15:41 GMT -5
Give it up for me please,
Put your hands in the air,
If you know what's good for you,
You wanna shake it like you just don't care.
Brisk woke and thought nothing of the attack. Was it days earlier? Sevendays? Months? The second. Or the first. More the first, maybe? It did not matter to her. She did not remember it. Not then, at least, for the passed few days and the months before that had blurred together in her mind. She rose from her hollow, full of dignity and pride, forever the perfect lady. Her eyes glowed red in the dark. Claws clicking on the stone floor, she made her way out of the room with dainty steps, her power replaced with grace. That was all she needed. She was beautiful. They had to see that. Behind her, Bri awoke, mind feeling muddled. She hated that feel. Had Soc been sleeping on her face again? No, the dog was down in the kennels, not in the quarters with her and Brisk. Of course, the green was gone too. What was happening? Then it hit her - the reason why she woke up feeling stupid. Lust rolled in slowly, taking over the fringes of her mind.
Out into the night, Brisk emerged. Her light green hide glowed, illuminated by the stars, the faintly visible visage of the menacing Red Star, and two bright moons. Blood! The green ignored her handler. For once, she was in control. No one could embarrass her. No one could act poorly. It was her night and she was going to make it a proper one. She stalked right past the herdbeasts, giving the hiss when they sensed her presence and one of them lowed, alerting the others. She did not need them! Blood! She wasn't getting herself filthy with blood! Back in their room, Bri paced, warring with the green and herself. She knew it was folly, but to resign herself to lust? Not what she wanted. Oh, the morning after, that would be grand! But right then? She wanted control of anything she could get her hands on. Your run will be short if you don't blood; she threatened.
Brisk did not care. She didn't need a long run. She didn't need to go that fast. If they wanted her, they weren't going to be rude. If any of them tried to snatch her, she would kill them. Bronze? Blue? Black? It didn't matter. They had to behave. She stalked down to the paths out of the Weyr. Then she turned back. Tipping back her head, she let out a trilling call, a formal announcement of what was happening, as if it were a party. Then she picked up a jog, heading down to the docks. A few fisherman who worked out of the building down there were repairing their lines, but they fled at the sight of the wher barreling towards them. Down on the shore, Brisk waited, turning back to look over her shoulder. Her heart pounded in her chest, the urge to flee strong. However, she was not about to do anything typical, not when the typical was horribly unlike her. Even in lust, she was still who she was. She ran as she wished to run.
The green waited until she saw the first male. Then it hit her. Suddenly, she was pissed. Hormonal and pissed. Look at them! Just running after her! Rather than going along the sands, she whirled around and plunged into the oncoming wave, surging into the bay. The water soaked her wings, but that hardly mattered. She continued to run until there was nothing else to run upon and then she swam, kicking out with her legs. Keeping her nose and swirling eyes above water, she swam. She didn't dare them to follow. If they wanted to go, she'd be sharding happy about it. If they did follow her, maybe the waters would wash them clean. Maybe they would make her forgive them for the very fact they chased her. The lot of them, every last one, didn't matter who, were terrible party guests. Back in their room, Bri, having given up on control, was cackling, finding it all quite funny.
Pardon me, the music is moving,
Moving from left to right,
Apologies for losing my cooling,
Losing the day to night. |
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Azhdarchid
Jr. Weyrwoman
azhct[M:-1490]
Totes.
Posts: 1,627
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Post by Azhdarchid on Mar 14, 2011 15:07:59 GMT -5
The fishermen had been working on their lines more often at late. Some catches were just too big to haul in.
A lone fishing pole abandoned on the dock after Brisk's passing trembled, then jerked forward over the edge. It advanced a few feet through the shallows, then fell still at last. The wher grasping its line at the other end had let go.
He was skulking right on the beach a short ways from the docks, still and dark like a boulder fallen from the mountainside. All around him, glimmering atop the sands, were the lost ends of the fishing lines, along with nets and broken traps, fish fins and fish eyes. Five legs of a half-swallowed spiderclaw were pushing at the craggy jaws shut around them as the thief raised his head. Spots of silver flashed from the wrinkles of his face: fishhooks. Over the course of his beach bumming existence, the barbs had met his flesh several times and burrowed into it, hanging even from the flayed scrap of his lower lip and in one case sewing into his eyelid. A few of the hooks still sprouted a couple inches of gossamer, trailing a sparkling beard from his chin.
His immense photophobic eyes spotted the green challenging the sea. He got up. His head dropped, and he tried to scoop the fish he had just pilfered into his jaws. It fit with the crab, but as he started toward the water, the distant fishing pole caught on a rock and the line between him and it went tight. That was fine. That was the tension he had been deprived of earlier! He set one of his talons to the line, and jerked his head to one side. The line broke, and he was free to plunge after his luminescent calling.
There were other males too. His facets rolled red as he noticed them joining him in the water. His nostrils flared in outrage, but he did not paddle any faster. What would it matter if he got there first or second? He was bigger than them. He would tear them away. And yet the wher arched his strong neck, lifted his bearded iron jaws completely free of the water, and barked a warning much muted after its navigation of his current meal. But he sustained the sound, sending the rumble in his chest across the waves. Did they see how strong he was yet? Did she?
The fishermen called him Slosk. He would not be drowned by any wave. He would not be beaten by any of his lousy competitors.
That was why it was perfectly fine to finish dinner before he really got to it.
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Post by theknightwhosaysni on Mar 20, 2011 16:53:49 GMT -5
The sensitive, brilliantly colored blue wher was one of the first to realize that Brisk was running. He realized that she was going to Run before the first trilling call. The blue wher had seen the green leaving the wherhandler quarters, her eyes whirling red and her beautifully green hide glowing as she stalked away.
But Flask waited, his eyes taking on tinges of red as well, lust stirring in his veins. His slept. But Flask watched solemnly, waiting for the beautiful Brisk to summon her males. He would wait for her to call to them, but he was ready. He was ready for her to summon him!
Flayn awakened to that, his mind already fuzzy with lust. "Flask?" he questioned softly, glancing towards his almost neon-colored wher. It was easy to pick out his hide in the small bits of light that had made their way into the wherhandler quarters. His mind was fuzzy. Thinking was hard. His mind kept drifting towards a picture of a green wher, and Flayn was strangely . . . attracted to her? What? That made no sense whatsoever.
Brisk Run. Call Flask. Flask go! [/i] Flask spoke swiftly, almost tumbling over his words and brilliantly blue tail wagged slightly as he launched himself to his feet. Power barely controlled in his muscles, Flask set off on his maiden Chase. The beautiful Brisk called to him, and he wasn't going to deny her cry. She was far too beautiful for him to not chase after. Flayn frowned, but he stumbled to his feet, a bit slow on the uptake. He knew only vaguely where Brisk's handlers room was, but that was purely because there were so few whers at Dalibor. It wouldn't be hard to find the room of the handler of the one green wher that was running right then. Bri, some part of his mind supplied. That was her name. And she was beautiful! Flayn was practically drooling right then, though that could partially be blamed on Flask and his lust. He had never thought a girl to be so beautiful, even though she cackled like a madwoman. That only made her all the more gorgeous, in Flayn's more than slightly addled mind. Meanwhile, Flask lunged after Brisk. The sight of her gave him more energy, even as she whirled to run towards the ocean. Flask simply extended his legs, his feet beating against the sand, driving him forward until he exploded into the water. He kept running then, kept running until his stubby legs couldn't reach the bottom and then he started swimming. He couldn't let himself slow down! He couldn't lose his edge! Flask's gaze settled on the massive Iron with dinner clenched in his jaws and the blue wher snarled to himself. He wasn't so disrespectful as to have dinner while he Chased! That was sharding ridiculous! It was a disrespect to the beautiful, glowing green that had called them out there. If Flask could have lashed out, he would have, but Flask wasn't willing to lose any time on Brisk. He was far too interested in her to lose even an inch, to get any further behind her.[/size][/blockquote] |
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Kila
Sr. Weyrleader
kilact[M:217]
Let's move to a cloud so we're never under the weather
Posts: 1,574
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Post by Kila on Mar 22, 2011 9:12:33 GMT -5
Mine; said Nadysk, suddenly still and his voice strained and strange. Nadya looked up from the book she was reading by the light of a glow, her long legs crossed and her pajamas from the day still hanging loosely and carelessly on her. Yeah, love? she responded, studying him. A long, beautiful trill answered her before her did, however, echoing down the hall and through her open door. Oh. Brisk, he said stiffly, though as if the name were the most beautiful thing he had ever uttered in his broken speech. She runs. No, she waits. I must go! he declared, jumping to his feet and shooting out the door. Of course you must, Nadya thought to herself, calmly placing the leaf she was using as a bookmark between the two open pages. When Nadysk was filled with the lust inherent in Runs he was most like her. She never minded when he chased- it made her proud. Not to mention that if he was the victor she shared the spoils. Brisk… Bri, she deduced as she was drawn towards the room of the Handler in question. Beautiful, she decided easily when she entered, appraising the laughing young woman. Get her, Nadysk, she thought out encouragingly. She stilled herself with effort, wanting instead to move forward and take Bri as hers.
Nadysk ran swiftly after Brisk down to the sea, with every intention of “getting her”, as His had put it. When he reached the beach, he saw her- waiting, glowing. Absolutely beautiful. He called out to her, singing with his heart on his sleeve. It was there for her, if she wanted it. He didn’t expect her to walk over and take it, of course- he would bring it to her so she could make her choice. She did not rest long in his sight, however, suddenly turning and plunging into the sea. From where he stood her could see other Whers charging after her, their hides flashing in the moonlight. He song turned to a low growl and he commenced his charge, only stopping for a moment when he hit the water, unsure for a moment of how to proceed. But land or water, however unnatural, he had to follow. He had to present the lovely Green with his heart. He had to chase her and be near to her. Though he struggled a bit with the waves, he began to catch on and pushed forward out of sheer will. It might drown him, literally, but he would keep going as long as he needed to.
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Admin
Administrator
brect[M:-2154]
Posts: 3,754
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Post by Admin on Mar 26, 2011 2:31:01 GMT -5
Yes, that is what I mean,
That's the nail that I hit,
I try to be as coy as I can,
But I want to see your naughty bit.
Males followed her. Two truthfully did, but she heard the call of another. Did he think that she cared? He could not even speak! She could not even speak! If he wanted her to care, with rage and perhaps with lust, he would have to chase. Having no intention of being caught by them or caught up in their ill-manners and ill-breeding, she continued to flee them, testing to see if they were really worth her time. The water dragged at her squat body, but she was smaller and slimmer than the others at least, a better swimmer than all but perhaps that foul beast who stank of fish. She did not like him. Of course, she didn't particularly like the others either, but she held a particular disdain for the wild beast. Being bonded meant nothing there, but she was a tame creature. Even when she ran, she was a lady. The water would wash away her sins and cleanse her.
Having made her choice of where to run, Brisk truthfully had no place to go. She swam, heading across the bay and back to solid ground. There were no turns to make. No places where she wished to dive. She simply swam, making sure that she stayed out of their reach. None of them would drown her in the waves. None of them would catch her there. Energy drained quickly from her limbs. The bay was a good distance, a challenge fitting of the penance they all needed to provide, but her run would not be a long trek through the mountains or across the continent. There was no thought to the children she might produce, though that was never really a concern. She was a green. Though she would make a good mother, it was not her place. One could be thankful for that, because her run would be short. Arduous, but short. Such was life. Such was what she desired.
Bri quieted, her laughter fading. Connected with Brisk, she was aware of how difficult it was to keep enough air in her lungs and stay afloat. No longer could she laugh and mock the institution, mock the fact that her ladylike wher would choose to break it by taking to the water like a fish. Instead, she was a part of it, separated from her body and yet one with it at the same time. Her patchy skin no longer existed. Only she did, the essence of her soul, not the physical body, so she could remain with Brisk and be with her. Brisk did not acknowledge who pursued her, but Bri did know who was in her room. One was a bluehandler, Flayn, and the other was a brownhandler, an older woman, Nadya. Eyes heavy, she looked upon them, not sure of what to think. She had lost the capability to care about who they were. There was no plan, only the run.
The water began to become shallow once more. Brisk kept her eyes locked forward. Her claws found sand; waves pushed at her back. She hauled herself up onto dry land and then took a few quick steps. The green shook herself dry, gleaming with the droplets that clung to her thick hide. Then she whirled around, preparing to face her three suitors. The fishy iron was immediately disregarded, nothing more than a tramp to be thrown out. The brown and the blue, however, both had proved themselves honorable. Her red eyes looked from one to the other. Then she turned to Nadysk and charged the brown, spreading her stunted wings wide. Go! That was her order, the firm request of a lady. Then she turned to Flask and slipped behind the blue, making him her victor. It was his job to protect her. It was his job to be hers as it was hers to now be his.
Back in their rooms, far away and a long trek for the morning, Bri wavered her way towards Flayn. If it had merely been her lust, she would have leaped straight at him and gone to town in a fit of teenage hormones not typical of her despite her youth. However, Brisk was a far more subtle creature and the green's influence made Bri move as if she was surrounded by molasses. Every moment dragged out; every motion was small. However, her arms soon folded around his neck and her lips found his. A chuckle grew up in the back of her throat, because Brisk's rage had abated now that she had chosen her winner, and Bri laughed as they kissed. It was a silly affair. She wasn't quite sure why, but she knew it was silly. She blamed the molasses air. It made her crazy. Oh, wait, she'd already been a bit of that. It didn't really matter. All that mattered was Flayn for the moment.
Pardon me, the music is moving,
Moving form left to right,
Apologies, for losing my cooling,
Losing today, tonight. |
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Azhdarchid
Jr. Weyrwoman
azhct[M:-1490]
Totes.
Posts: 1,627
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Post by Azhdarchid on Mar 26, 2011 22:42:19 GMT -5
If Brisk was such a proper lady she should have stayed in her Weyr, where she would have been safe from untamed influences. Of course, a Run spinning around the Bowl might have been a little cramped for any given specimen of Pern's nocturnal royalty. Slosk was unaware he was unwanted. He was gurgling over the last few knobby legs of the spider-claw stuck in his throat, but even so occupied he kept good pace with the other leading males. Oh not fast enough to be in the lead, but his course was barely altered by the waves sweeping over his pebbled back. He certainly was not tired!
Slurping the final inch of mingling crab and fish down into his gut, the Iron found his footing in the shallows and appraised the beach. He was ready now! But what was this? His entertainment for the evening had slipped behind a petite opponent barely bigger than herself. Slosk issued a questioning warble, but it might have just been a bout of gas rising from his belly. He directed his bumpy head toward Flask, pierced nostrils flaring as he scrutinized Brisk's choice. The wild did not have to put much thought into his decision.
Suddenly he was lifting his front legs off the ground, metallic grey talons swinging as he lofted himself up and spread his wings for balance. His tail made a weak prop behind him, the ocean surging over the forked tip and foaming around his ankles. Slosk's revealed abdomen was much paler than the rest of him, like a blot of silvery moonlight had gotten stuck there. His heavy, crumpled wings flapped in time with a roar that exploded from his abruptly open jaws. He dropped back onto all-fours, still massive, still fresh for the fight, and immediately challenged the Blue again with his brassy warsong.
But when he moved on the pair he was all speed and silence, water and sand puffing around each step of his charge. The only confounding sensation was the paunch of his belly, heavy with dinner still digesting. A thick arm of muscle and iron hide lanced toward Flask's head at the last moment, the inertia of the big wher driven through it. His claws were long and unkempt, but it was the force of the attack that presented the real danger. Having the tamed male flinch away would be as good as wrenching his head with the lunge, red-eyed Slosk thought. It would mean Flask was abandoning his brief conquest either way. And rightfully so!
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Post by theknightwhosaysni on Apr 1, 2011 20:24:09 GMT -5
The swimming was harder than running after Brisk would have been, but Flask didn't care. Truthfully, the idea didn't even occur to him. All that filled Flask's mind was Brisk and her glowing, gleaming, beautiful hide. She had called to him and he had answered by chasing her. The bay was an interesting place in which to have a Run, but that was fitting of such an interesting green!
Flask was completely enamored with Brisk right then. She was beautiful! She was amazing, she was worth Chasing in every way. In swimming, she just proved how unique and beautiful she was! And besides, they were nearly to the shores! The swimming would not go on for much longer, though Flask wasn't exhausted just yet. He still had plenty of energy to chase after Brisk.
Meanwhile, Flayn was slightly disappointed when Bri stopped laughing. A slight pout passed across the bluehandler's face as her laughter faded and she examined her two suitors. Wait, two? Flayn narrowed his eyes at that, and glanced towards Nadya. Yes, there were only two suitors. So, a wild wher, then? Because Flask was definitely radiating annoyance about competing with two others into Flayn's mind, along with his lust. Which was more than a bit hard for Flayn to think around, but that had felt important to figure out . . . for all of five seconds.
Wait. What was he thinking about again?
Um. Something that wasn't very important. It certainly wasn't as pretty as Bri!
Flask's mind began to drag Flayn under as Flask's claws found sand and the water shallowed enough that the blue wher could run. Instead of being smart and swimming for as long as he could, Flask did what felt natural and began to run through the water, the drag slowing his movements significantly, dragging him back and making every movement feel like the whole universe was trying to hold him back from winning the beautiful Brisk.
Or maybe Flask was just being melodramatic.
It was probably the latter.
Flask dragged himself onto the sands just behind Nadysk and he surveyed Brisk as the green examined them. She was choosing, picking a winner, Flask figured, straightening to his full height. It was a bit late to try and impress Brisk, but Flask threw in one last ditched attempt to impress her all the same.
Flask moved slightly to the side when Brisk charged at Nadysk, driving him away. However, he straightened up even further (if that was possible), when Brisk slipped behind him, marking him to be her winner! Take that, ugly iron!
And . . . speaking of Slosk, it looked like the iron was challenging him for Brisk! Flask growled furiously, red darkening his gaze still further. This was not okay! He was not going to give Brisk up, especially not to some ugly, fishy iron!
Flask growled again, but he was smart enough not to let his head get mauled by Slosk's claws. Flask backed up slightly, turning his head to the side in an attempt to avoid Slosk's claws, and while Slosk might have considered that to be a surrender, Flask certainly didn't.
The blue wher rocked back on his hind legs and lashed out with a claw in Slosk's direction. Leave! [/i] Flask growled, even less coherent than usual. If it came down to a fight, Flask would probably lose. He was smaller than Slosk and he was tired. But Flask was not going to let Slosk near Brisk without a fight! Flayn, meanwhile, was only slightly aware of Flask's antics. Most of his attention had narrowed down to Bri when Flask had won. Now, he kept only distant tabs on his blue. If Flask got mauled, Flayn might notice. Maybe. But Bri and her manic beauty had snared Flayn's attention. He moved to close the distance between them, and when they met, Bri wrapped her arms around her neck. Their mouthes met and Bri began to laugh. There! The laugh was back! That pleased Flayn. It made him happy. The crazy laughter had made her more beautiful before, and it made her more beautiful then, as he tugged Bri downwards. He was glad that Flask had won Brisk's Run![/size][/blockquote] |
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