Admin
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brect[M:-2154]
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Post by Admin on Mar 16, 2009 5:17:37 GMT -5
Let's waste time,
Chasing cars,
Around our heads.
Kalith was asleep. She'd found the perfect spot on the edge of the weyr's bowl to bask in the summer sun and had drifted off to sleep. In the light of Rukbat's late afternoon glow, she was magnificent. Her orange hide was healthy and each breath she took made it ripple in metallic splendor. It reflected light all around her, making her seem to glow a bit like the sun herself. Over three turns of age, it had all been well expected for her to rise at some point and all signs pointed towards it being soon. She'd been a little . . . testy in the past few days. The fact that it was a noticeable thing wasn't exactly a blessing to the Weyr, since the Queen wasn't exactly known for not having a temper. Thankfully, along with the testiness she'd developed, she'd also become very solitary, avoiding and hissing at those who got too close to her and claiming different positions in the bowl as hers. Everyone was aware of the copper's state. Some were laying bets to exactly when she was rise. In fact, the only person who seemed to be unaware of her dragon was the Weyrwoman herself. She seemed oblivious and unaffected.
As per usual, Fajra was working well her dragon rested. There was always paperwork for her to do or to look over. A large quantity of it was stacked along the edges of her favorite table in the records room. Somewhere, hidden amongst the stacks of parchment, Afzal was lurking, half asleep and keeping his bonded company well she worked. The young Weyrwoman would smile faintly at him any time she say a flicker of bronze hide amongst her papers but she was mainly occupied with writing orders for supplies from holds on the Southern Continent and looking over replies from messages to other Weyrleaders. There was no one else to do these tasks. There was no one else who needed to do these tasks. It was nice to be engrossed in them as well, because the Weyrwoman was painfully aware of her dragon's growing changes in behavior and that she would be rising soon. It was an event she knew was coming, but even she couldn't say quite when, and she hated that she had no influence over it. Still, she saw no point in dwelling on it. It would happen and that would be that, so she busied herself with the many things she had to do that could keep herself busy.
What had been happening in her life? Sometimes she reflected upon this. Paaie and D'bor had died. She would always remember them but, as seasons passed and she became more and more used to her new role, they became easier to push away from her mind like she did many things. Still, sometimes they came to dwell upon them. She'd gotten in a minor argument with O'sho, rider of bronze Daidoroth. At the gathering, she'd spoken with W'al, rider of purple Kerath, run into the Western Lord Holder, Duilios, and been saved from the unlikable man by O'sho. She'd met U'ar and brown Odyth, which were a nice enough pair. Bronze Shoth had arrived at the Weyr and caused Kalith to attempt to kill him. Firelizard eggs had been laid onto the sands, sired by her own flitter, and Kalith had taken a bit of offense towards purple Altith. Those were all small events in comparison to the discovery of renegades out in the nether regions of the continent - two of them, but they didn't know much about them and she had little idea of how to deal with them or what to do with them. They hadn't caused any real problems yet. After all, no one had known about them until recently. They were a future problem, to be dealt with in time.
What had made her who she was? She never really thought about it. It wasn't a question that needed answering for her to go about doing all the things she had to do, but it was a question relevant to her nonetheless. She wasn't aware right then that it might have been a good time to think about a lot of questions. She'd been weyrborn, and weyr raised. Her mother was a greenrider; her father was a blackrider. She knew who they were but she'd never been close to them; she'd been brought up by her foster mother, Yejide. So had her three younger siblings - seventeen-turn-old candidate Maher, fifteen-turn-old candidate Majar, and twelve-turn-old weyrbrat Fahra. She'd done four turns as a candidate herself before Impressing Kalith, but it wasn't like she cared about how long it had taken anymore. What had made her who she was? These things, each in their own place, you could suppose, or maybe she was who she was because she was. That would be simpler.
Afzal stirred. The bronze firelizard awoke but stayed still for a moment, thinking that he would just fall back asleep. However, he didn't. He felt something, that something was happening. Silent still, not wanting to disturb this feeling or his bonded, he raised his head to look out over the stacks of pages he was surrounded by. As she became aware of his wakefulness through her busied thoughts, Fajra paused in her work, intending to give him a moments notice and return to her task. However, as she stopped for a second, she felt the same odd feeling as the firelizard. They were both aware that something was coming, like the calm before a storm, when you know it's going to break soon. It wasn't something in the air or in the sky that was giving the Weyrwoman this feeling though. She set down her pen and stared forward, trying to figuring out exactly where it was coming from. It was rising and falling, very elusive but always there, something nagging at her, trying to tell her something. It was something that was a part of her, something that was inside, not outside, of herself . . .
Kalith stirred. She was slow in waking. The functions in her brain slowly began to come on until she was aware that she was awake. She was aware of other things after that. She was hungry, but it wasn't her usual hunger, and emotions broiled inside of her, passionate and fiery . . . The outer lids of her eyes snapped open. Languidly, she set her feet underneath and rose into a standing position, stretching like a feline in the process. She flexed each of her muscles meticulously - unfolding and folding her wings a few times to shake them out as she stretched out her front legs, her back legs, her neck, and her tail, one at a time. The display gave everyone a chance to see just how radiant she was, and she did glow. Yes, even normally, the copper had a hide that reflected light well, but now, it radiated light without even really needing the help of Rukbat's afternoon rays. They only added to the affect of the shining, metallic, flawless, orange-red-yellow surface that rippled as live muscle moved underneath it. You had notice her presence then, which was a good, because today was her day to shine above all others!
Done with her display, she spread her wings one more time and then took a few quick steps forward, racing out onto open air. She dropped towards the floor of the bowl far below until air caught under her wing sails and she was gliding. Deftly maneuvering herself, she descended on the feeding pens up along the lower river, under the lake. She bugled once, sending anyone who had the foolish idea to come and feed then scurrying for cover and giving a first call to her suitors. And there would be suitors and they would show up in a timely fashion! More feral and aggressive than she had ever been, even in her pre-flight proddiness, she had no patience, not for others anyway. Sweeping over the herds in the open pens, she sent them running. With a down beat of her wings, she gained a little height again, following the afraid beasts as they raced away from her in blind panic. They didn't have any place to run though, not from the Queen, who had to feed and then fly! She surged forward, a bit faster now, and then folded her wings, descending upon her first kill with all her claws and teeth.
"BLOOD IT!" The order was shouted both mentally and physically. Fajra stood on the ledge of her weyr, eyes fixed on her dragon without really being used to see what she was doing. She didn't need to see what the Queen was doing; she could feel it, every tendon, every muscle, every bone, every fiber of a body that wasn't hers but that she belonged too still. She wavered in between existing with her dragon and existing on the ledge. One moment, she could almost feel a limp animal under her claws, and the next, she was simply a woman with the wind whipping through her red hair and blowing her wrinkled dress all around her. As she bent her will upon Kalith, regardless of all that, the Queen hissed her defiance, but was incapable of arguing. There was a force to be reckoned with inside that simple woman standing on a ledge with the wind blowing about her. She could control her dragon . . . And then she could taste blood in her mouth, feel the heat of it in her throat. She wanted meat. She wanted more. She wanted it all . . .
Oh Faranth, she was losing control of herself! That wasn't who she was. She closed her eyes and took one deep breath. When she opened them, she was firmly in control, another barrier set up in her mind to keep her calm and prepared. She'd been told so many times what would happen, but she wasn't exactly one to accept something, not something like this. It was sensible to try to keep control, make sure that her dragon blooded, try to effect the outcome by being aware of her own existence. Letting go of the little walls in her mind, the separate sections that kept everything organized, wouldn't just mean giving herself over to simply be a passenger in Kalith's simple, it would also mean having to maybe catch one to many a glimpse at the things that were generally best kept in the back of her mind. What should she be thinking about? Her own suitors, the rider's of whatever dragons decided to try for her dragon's favor, would be arriving soon themselves. That stuck, though she was more occupied with keeping her will on Kalith.
After submitting to her rider's order to blood her first kill, she didn't argue again, more than a little loving, fun snaps and hisses. Another beast fell under her claws and she sank her fangs into its neck. Blood tasted good. It was hot against her tongue and transferred that heat throughout her body, fueling her, energizing her, preparing her. Finished with her second kill, she leaped into the air, gliding towards the corner where the herdbeasts had tried to take shelter again. She dropped upon another of them, killing him quickly by snapping its neck as she gripped it in her front legs. Tossing her head, she tested her rider's will again but quickly fell back to blooding it when she found no leeway there. So busy with her feeding, she'd been paying little attention to what had been happening around her and anyone who was about. They weren't important anymore, or yet, at least. But her hunger was finally satisfied and other urges and need became more predominant in her mind. Her eyes swirled a fierce mixture of red and purple. So, leaving her final kill behind, she crouched and then lunged into the air. Her wings snapped open and she was streaking skyward as she blessed them with one last bugle, one last call to chase her, if you dared, if you wanted to risk it all, if you wanted to put your cards all in!
Forget what we're told,
Before we get too old,
Show me a garden.
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Post by 123notit on Mar 16, 2009 12:39:20 GMT -5
It was a relatively quiet day. Though the soon-rising Queen was extremely testy, she stayed away. She was sleeping now, leaving everyone alone. Though there was still a tension. She was to rise soon. Everyone knew that but especially aware were the male dragons eligible to chase after her. Even Odyth, who was the least-likely suitor, was especially keen to this fact. It had been a long while since he chased after a Queen. His usual chase and catches were all greens. He had gotten close to a Gold once before Sireneth, but he was quickly beaten out by a bronze. He realized soon after that he never had much of a chance. After Sireneth, he never cared. After she betweened, he never had the heart to fly much. This apathy meant it was hard to catch any dragon, resulting in his single catch of a young, silly green.
But he felt it now. U’ar had recovered greatly. Probably to the best he would ever recover. Odyth was ready to fly. He was going to chase after Kalith. She was a beautiful dragon to be sure. Though she was young and had a temper, he had not quite forgiven her for pushing his Mine into the water, she was a might Queen. And with Fajra as her Mine, Odyth felt like she would be kept under control. Being a brown, he felt that he was at a disadvantage, but he had an age advantage over many of the other kings. This, of course, was ruling out O’sho and his bronze.
At this moment, Odyth and U’ar were relaxing. Both had just had a light meal and were walking it off in the Bowl. A smile was darted across U’ar’s face, much to Odyth’s approval. Suddenly, the brown tensed. Something was going to occur. The initial bugle was sounded, alerting the entire Weyr that the Copper was to rise. U’ar grinned as he looked up at Odyth. “Well,” he said, actually speaking aloud, “I think I’m up to it. What about you? I think we’re ready to give ‘em a good show. Let them know you’re still in your prime.”
~I am ready, Mine. I’m glad that you feel the same.~ Odyth grumbled lightly. He was excited, at least for his usual demeanor. He was like his younger self- confident, excited, passionate. Both watched the Queen shoot up. But this was only a momentary glance. Odyth quickly rose into the air, calling out to her. His bugle was loud and strong, fueled by his long absence from the excitement of the chase. His bugle told her that he was going to chase her, so she better be ready.
U’ar hurried closer to the scene. The two of them were one of the first up. They were lucky because of their location outside. He looked for Fajra, wondering how she was dealing with the stress of controlling the Queen dragon during this time.
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Post by jack on Mar 16, 2009 13:06:39 GMT -5
“Shoth, move your tail. I need that piece of metal.”
The Bronze rolled his eyes and begrudgingly lifted his tail, watching with disinterest as His snatched up the bar, quickly dunking it into a pool of melting metal. The man worked patiently away at his chore, waiting until the silver was hot enough before pouring it into the mold set to the side. Several glowing rings were formed and B’rak smirked, setting down the bucket of burning metal to the side as he waited for the metal to cool a bit before closing the mold and dunking it into a nearby trowel of water.
Mine, this is boring. I want to go elsewhere.
“You know I can’t let you.” The man replied as he lifted the mold out, prying it apart and weaseling out the unfinished rings, “You got us both into trouble, and made us look like idiots with me there. I know you’ll just cause more chaos without me.”
Shoth scoffed, but made no complaint, being well-aware that His spoke the truth. In a way, at least. Then you are almost done?
“Well…I can take a break in a minute. The metal will be cold enough to handle in a minute, and I can grind and polish anywhere.”
Good. Giving a pleased nod the dragon stood, stretching lazily before plopping down again, slinking a bit further into the furnace area so as to better watch Hs.
“Not to close, Shoth. You’re blocking the light.”
Hmph. Denied his spot he moved again, growling to himself as he got to his feet, only to pause and suddenly lift his head, eyes whirling wildly as he accidently took off a piece of the roof, B’rak yelping and dodging the bit of rubble.
“Shoth! You broke the roof, you wherrybrain! They’re going to make me fix that, you know.” Exasperated, the miner strode out of the furnace, the cool metal rings thrust into a pocket as he growled, “Just what I need. More trouble. You’re going to get us kicked out of the Weyr at this point..”
Hush, Mine.
B’rak paused at the light tone of his dragon, an ivory brow arching as he crossed his arms over his chest, staring up at the frozen beast.
That familiar, wicked look spread into his eyes and B’rak tensed, frowning as the dragon turned back to look at His, eyes whirling an unfamiliar color. The lovely rises, B’rakMine.
The miner’s eyes widened, “You’re going to try for her?”
No. The dragon strode forwards until he was safely away from the furnace’s roof, I’m going to catch her. And then he was off, lunging up into the air with powerful wingstrokes, his unmistakable bugle—so self-assured and loud it made B’rak wince—trumpeting into the air as he shot towards the Queen.
There she was, that lovely. He bugled again, a fiercer sound that dared anyone to challenge his right, and assuring the lovely that he would not only chase—he would win. He was fastest, he was strongest, he was Shoth, and nothing would stand in his way.
B’rak was on his dragon’s heels, running to see where the others were. He came up beside the Brownrider, breathing heavily from the jog. Although he and Shoth had been outside, the forge was on the opposite side of the Weyr, and while Shoth navigated his low-flight through the streets agilely and with incredible speed, it took a bit more for B’rak to keep up and not get lost. Now there was only to keep an eye on Shoth as he pursued, and hope he didn’t get himself killed in the process.
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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 17, 2009 11:11:28 GMT -5
Kalith was far from the only dragon in Dalibor to be entranced and seduced by the summer sun. All along the ledges and cliffs dragons lay out to bask languorously in the heat. Even though their numbers were still few, the bodies of Pern’s protectors transformed the stony fortress that was the Weyr into something greater. The rocks were a pallet that was graced with shades of every color, each for the same purpose yet so difference in essence. It was hard to believe that such a day could exist and repose everyone into such a calm when they were so yet unprepared and danger lurked ahead. There was often not a lot to do around the Weyr, despite the steady streaming increase of candidates and occasional transfer, because Fajra, in her capable and proud meticulosity, preferred to shoulder the majority of the load herself. As it had been observed, she did not mind, but idle riders were unused to such expansive free time and sat on the edge of potential mischief. The beautiful day, however, took the fight out of life and everyone reclined in their own particular way to enjoy it.
Daidoroth’s great form was easily visible from below. He lay on the lip of his and His’ own weyr, the sun reflecting magnificently off of his clean, dark hide. His jaw rested on the extreme edge of the protruding ledge, muzzle floating serenely in the heated air. The rest of the King’s body was stretched out over and around the rest of the lit space, inviting Rubkat’s rays to kiss every inch of his hide. His large bulk was solid, and yet his rider could see that he was relaxed and utterly at peace with the moment. Daidoroth knew that O’sho admired and sometimes envied dragons for their persistent ability to live in and only be concerned with the present moment. Humans, they both agreed, complicated things into ruin and constantly overlooked the now for the later. His rider in mind, Daidoroth reached out fondly with his thoughts to caress O’sho, who was sitting next to him on the ledge, their mere proximity and presence a luxurious comfort to one another.
In his stillness, O’sho smiled affectionately. Positioned comfortably beside his life mate, he was sitting in meditation, or rather just sitting, for he was thinking about nothing in particular. In this state he could appreciate every playful breeze, every ray of sun, every bird in the sky, and every noise in the air. He was effortlessly almost one with Daidoroth’s mind, having abandoned his own in favor of enjoying the day. His eyes remained open, knowing that the incalescence of the sun would lull him away from consciousness with little persuasion, but also to appraise what little went on in the way of brave attempts of activity during their heat wave. Occasionally a candidate or pair of them would scamper across the Bowl, their laughs and rapid conversation floating up to his ears. That’s right; he needed to meet with them all very soon. There were enough of them now that they were expected to be put to work.
Daidoroth, he noticed, had his eyes open as well, and admiringly focused below. O’sho didn’t need to crane his head and look to find out what. Kalith was stunning (more so than usual) as of late, her beautiful hide magnified and glowing with radiance. The Queen was selfish about her space, and only Fajra had been near her. O’sho had not seen the Weyrwoman since the Gather, but Daidoroth had bespoke Kalith up until her temper became hostile and warned him away. O’sho almost felt sorry for him; he would sit idly on the ledge and admire Kalith from afar, too respectful- and intelligent- to get close. He did not regard her with lust, an emotion that, outside of flight, he left to the younger dragons, but rather with the fascination and appreciation for great beauty that he had harbored from the start. The sincere admiration of the big Bronze was almost as palpable as the heat.
But something else crept suddenly into O’sho’s mind by way of Diadoroth’s. O’sho had expericed this enough before to be able to pick up even on the nuances of such a feeling. Breaking his seat of stillness, he leaned forward in time to see Kalith rousing herself slowly. She made a great display of stretching, displaying her glowing limbs for all eyes to see. And as with everything the Copper did, her movements commanded attention. Daido… O’sho bespoke calmly, turning to look now at His. The Bronze knew this feeling well too, having participated in many a flight before. He had not yet moved, but his body was no longer relaxed. He was tensed, his draconic instincts taking over and urging him to get to Kalith, to capture her and make her his own as fast as possible. But he stayed, crouched almost, with his eyes beginning to whirr ever faster as the Queen moved. He twitched forward and inch when she first lifted into the sky and began to blood her kills, but still waited. His concentration, his self-control was so strong that it was almost overwhelming to O’sho every time. The man knew that his bonded would wait, would painfully hold himself back so as not to hover nor crowd Kalith in her volatile state, but once she took to the sky for real- well, there was no stopping him.
And that moment inevitably came. As soon as Kalith launched herself into flight, her maw and claws still dripping lethally with blood from her sacrificial kills, Daidoroth was in the sky. O’sho only had time to see all the muscles tense below his great hide before the Bronze leapt without hesitation into the chase, creating a rush of wind behind him. Kalith’s bugle was like music to his ears, and he sought it like he needed it to survive. In response to her own show of voice, he opened his gaping mouth and let out a powerful, bone-shaking, rock-trembling roar that echoed off and around the Weyr like thunder. He would have his presence known, and those who also followed his Queen would know to whom they would pay defeat. He was sure. Daidoroth knew that Kalith not only demanded respect, but liked a show to be made over her. Never on a normal day had he been able to impress her with overt shows of jealousy to the other males or excessive flattery, only with his sincere compliments and company. And he knew that at the same time she was fickle in way- wanting the attention yet not wanting to feel owned. It didn’t matter now though- there was no dichotomy of desires in any beast in the sky during this day. Here she could see how he treasured her above all of her other suitors. Here he would allow his feeling to be magnified and painted across the sky. He was not a violent soul, and yet if the others came to close or attacked him he would not tolerate it. There were no need for words as of yet.
O’sho, back on the ledge, braced himself against the force of the small windstorm that Daidoroth created in his departure. Their minds were already one- they had been all day- but now he was soaring through the sky and asserting his infallible challenge. And yet, from turns of experience, O’sho could still keep control. He had somewhere to be now. Getting to his feet he hurried down the stone steps of his weyr and into the bowl. Even if he had not seen Fajra and moved magnetically towards her, he would have been drawn to her by some governing, fateful element that flights evoked. He grew close and then stopped, regarding her with semi-present eyes. He did not love her, for unrequited love was a painful and terrible thing. Their interactions up to this point had been marked by distance, for he had come to realize that they were very different people. And yet there was a mutual respect between them. Fajra may have disliked him passionately for his words, but an extreme feeling, good OR bad, was a feeling none the less. O’sho let his head tilt back up to the sky to follow the rapidly receding parade of dragons. This was Daidoroth’s chase now, and there was nothing that he could do. Giving himself over, he let his mind be fully present with his only true life mate.
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Post by 123notit on Mar 17, 2009 12:07:04 GMT -5
Odyth was no longer alone in the sky. Two other suitors had joined him. Two Bronzes. The brown knew that these were the ones to probably catch the Copper. But he was consumed with full-out lust. He would not be The roar he let out let all know that he would allow no one to defeat him. The lovely Kalith was his.
The large brown beat his wings quickly, locking his eyes onto Kalith. No matter what trick she tried, he would catch her. Though he was not the quickest dragon, he had powerful wings and had gotten in the air first. These Bronzes, and any other dragon who decided to join, would be no match.
U'ar hardly looked to the others that joined him in the Bowl. He was faintly aware of the out-of-breath miner, but he barely saw the man older than him. He was one with his dragon. He was soaring through the air, beating his powerful wings. The only thing he desired was to be one with another. Neither U'ar nor Odyth had felt this sort of thing since Sireneth and Mira. It was a good feeling, a normal feeling. There was no reason to be sad anymore. The greenrider wouldn't have wanted it.
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Admin
Administrator
brect[M:-2154]
Posts: 3,754
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Post by Admin on Mar 17, 2009 17:35:57 GMT -5
'Cause I'm looking at you through the glass,
Don't know how much time has passed,
All I know is that it feels like forever,
When no one ever tells you that forever,
Feels like home, sitting all alone inside your head.
A brown had been waiting in the brush that was heavy on the slopes on the outer side of the Weyr bowl. He'd been waiting several days, at different strategic points close to the Weyr, with his only company his rider, which was, of course, very good company. They had to move at night and had to be very careful. They weren't suppose to be here; they weren't supposed to be anywhere, actually, but they really weren't supposed to be here. However, His had said that this was important surveillance, so he'd been more than willing. He was usually more than willing to do anything his rider said, and do it well, which was why he'd put plenty of effort into making sure that the others in their group didn't know anything about this. His had said to do that this had to be covert and such stealthy things had to be handled properly.
The hours of watching had been monotonous, so D'ror noticed immediately when Abeneth tensed. The rebel brown raised his head to stare through the trees towards the sky above the Weyr. A small flash of copper-reflected light was all he saw, but he could feel it in the air anyway, sense what was happening. He'd tried for a Queen or two in his day, that loyal Sub-King had, and he was one of the largest of his color. He knew what was happening and the lust in him welled up . . . She bloods; he murmured to his rider, who smiled faintly to himself. Giving his lifemate a pat on the shoulder, he was off running. It was a long way to the Weyr still . . . And he really shouldn't be laughing that, for once in a long time, Abeneth wasn't asking where he was going.
One, two, three, four, one, two, three, four, he counted his steps as he ran, just letting himself feel the emotional turmoil that swirled, growing, in his dragon. He knew that he would be patient and wait; he had no fear that his loyal dragon would jeopardize this little affair. They were a good pair - D'ror the brains, Abeneth the brawns, though it wasn't like he couldn't hold his own physically, he simply couldn't compare to the sheer size and musculature of the brown. One, two, three, four, one two, three, four, he could feel the anticipation of his lifemate growing. He was slowly loosing breath as he raced onward, but he was slowly loosing his ability to even acknowledge that. The growing lust was easy to fall into; he saw no point in fighting it, so he merely accepted it. He had to reach Fajra. Whatever tole on his body that took didn't matter, so he ran and felt his mind crouching, ready to soar.
Abeneth crouched, waiting, waiting. It was natural instinct. He simply knew that she was blooding her kills, that she was rising but she wasn't in the air. He wanted to see her; he wanted to see the beauty that he had only seen once before properly and she hadn't been as magnificent as she was now. His rider was still there in his mind, more than ever in truth, but in the back now, and his orders were there too, ingrown into his being. Don't make a preemptive move; time it just right. Every moment of anticipation slowly made the lust in the solid brown rise, creeping closer and closer to the full on inferno it was heading for. It grew harder and harder to wait, even though it had only been a very short collection of minutes. Breaking the very stiff position he'd been holding, he began to shift his weight from side to side, anxious and anticipate.
Finally, he could feel she wasn't blooding anymore - the scent of fearful animals wasn't detectable anymore and he could see a flicker of movement at the Weyr. He crouched down, practically quivering with tension as he prepared himself to actually take flight, to actually chase her. His claws dug into the soft dirt under his feet, eyes swirling faster and faster as the sheer anticipation started to dig at him. But finally, there she was, a magnificent copper form rising above the lip of the bowl. A brown form, and then two bronze ones, flickered up after her, but he was airborne before that even registered in his mind. He rushed up through a small clump of trees, sending leaves and pine needles showering down, and then he snapped his wings opened. Down sweep, up sweep, down sweep, he soared after her, answering her call with a sweet, deep bugle of his own. He was confident, sure, moving with great rhythm and coordination. He could win! That was his goal.
D'ror couldn't actually see where he was running. It didn't effect his ability to just keep going; he did know what was around him, but he was with his dragon. The strain he felt wasn't in each of his steps; it was in every wingbeat. All he felt was the lust and the drive that his dragon felt, with a couple of thoughts about life and the universe. Thump, thump, their hearts beat together, one force, undivided. Huff, huff, they breathed together, carefully controlling every single one to work at their peak. There was a clear goal in sight for them - the rider ran to reach the Weyrwoman in her Weyr, and his dragon flew to catch her dragon, so that he could tumble from the sky with her, the winner, the Weyrleader of the Weyr.
How do you feel, that is the question,
But I forget you don't expect an easy answer,
When something like a soul becomes initialized,
And folded up like paper dolls and little notes,
You can't expect to bitter folks.
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Post by jack on Mar 19, 2009 10:32:09 GMT -5
Another Bronze joined the chase, but Shoth gave him little heed, a soft snarl in his direction and a sudden increase of speed--as if he would ever play second fiddle to a big pile of metallic mush--the only indication he'd even noticed the large creature appear. Sharp wings came in handy now, slicing through the air easily as he spiraled up, catching a sudden heatwave only to dart out of it--swiping his tail "accidentally" towards Daidoroth's maw, although he didn't dare touch the other male.
Not that he was scared or anything--he was just rather fond of his tail and knew what happened when you hit anything on its nose. It bit. Even His bit, although generally speaking that was just an annoying grinding of teeth that came seconds before metal--and occasionally pick-axes--started flying in Shoth's direction.
Shoth sped up a tiny bit more, his claws raking the air as though grabbing ahold of a cliff-face before taking off, but as he sailed eagerly after what would definitely be his Lovely, something new caught his eye. His eyes whirled dangerously at the sight of the second Brown, a Brown he didn't recognize in the least--not that he knew all of the dragons here. He instantly didn't like this one, though, his eyes were too centered on the Lovely, and too close within Shoth's visual range to be ignored.
Growling he shifted as though to draw closer to the newcomer but the tiny pull at his mind made him return to his normal flight-pattern, grumbling to himself about it.
Down below B'rak frowned, eyes following the Brown through Shoth's point of view, only to break away and stare from the ground. A nagging distaste in the pit of his stomach he turned his head, noting with even more distaste that there were no other riders. It would be expected for Daidoroth's rider not to be here--from the direction the Bronze had come, he was probably at the Weyrs..but the Brown had come from a completely different one.
Although he couldn't quite figure out why it put him on edge, the Bronzerider felt himself tense, brows furrowing unhappily. A point in the right direction echoed from Shoth's disorganized thoughts and with a glance towards U'ar--as if to see if the other rider had that same uncomfortable feeling--he turned completely and moved into a trot, following the very bond that drew Shoth to Kalith towards Fajra. Unease and wariness flew with the flight's urges, but it was Unease that took center stage today, a strange thing indeed when his dragon was in the air, but one he wasn't about to question.
Something was wrong, and he wasn't about to let it go unnoticed.
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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 20, 2009 9:56:02 GMT -5
Daidoroth flew with steady and strong wings. The flight had begun, but it was not yet in its high speed stages. Kalith would not allow herself to be caught so soon, so he knew that he need not strain himself to move in dangerously close just yet. His confidence and calm with the situation allowed him to largely ignore the other suitors with him in the sky. His attention was undivided- he and His were one in mind and spirit, if they could never be in body. As it had been since the day he had caught sight of her immaculate hide, Daidoroth’s eyes were fixed ahead, focused only on Kalith.
Though he did not normally dislike many other living creatures, the situation was extreme, and the actions of the other, smaller Bronze caused Daidoroth to take an immediate disliking to him. When they passed closely to each other, the opposing King dared to snarl in his direction. Daidoroth ignored this display, but when Shoth shot forward and lashed out with his tail, narrowly yet deliberately missing Daidoroth’s maw, the Bronze let out a violent snarl of warning, snapping at the air where the said offending appendage had been only just before. Had Shoth’s tail actually struck Daidoroth it would have surely been lost. Daidoroth did not flinch at this false alarm, though he did bow his head momentarily to protect his eyes. Swerving or starting was out of the question, no matter what. He would not lose time, he would not fall behind. He would not fight for the same reason. He would, however, protect himself, conserve his well-being, so that he could chase as aptly as possible. And so he glared at the impudent, puny, offending dragon before him and let his growl rumble dangerously in his throat. Shoth would get what he deserved.
But the sporadic tumult of life kept his attention from lingering on Shoth for long. A fourth suitor joined the race, but it was not a dragon that Daidoroth new. Strange, this Brown was not affiliated with Dalibor. This was allowed, of course, but no one there, especially including himself, approved. Kings of a Weyr were very protective of their Queens, and Abeneth’s outsider status immediately earned him hostility. Daidoroth’s growl deepened and he leaned into the wind to occupy the space that directly obscured the path Abeneth would have to take to get anywhere near Kalith. Daidoroth would not allow it. He would not allow anyone else, for that matter, to get close to her- or at least as close as he planned on getting.
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Post by 123notit on Mar 20, 2009 12:04:49 GMT -5
Another brown? Odyth and U'ar were new to the Weyr, but this strange dragon was unknown to them. And by the hostile reactions, he was unknown to everyone. Not a part of the Weyr. Odyth knew it was allowed and he knew that he was just recently added to the Weyr, but anger mixed in with the passion swirling in his eyes. This was his Weyr and Kalith would also be his. This unknown Brown would be no threat.
As Daidoroth moved into the other Brown's path, Odyth took this chance to glide. He needed to keep up his strength and since everyone else was preoccupied with the other Brown, he could rest for a moment. Then he could swoop in for the catch. He was sure he was one of the most experienced dragons around when it came to flights.
U'ar stood at the ground, as tense as his dragon at the sight of the strange dragon. He looked around for the sight of this dragon's rider, wondering if he actually was inside the Weyr.
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Admin
Administrator
brect[M:-2154]
Posts: 3,754
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Post by Admin on Mar 20, 2009 20:09:05 GMT -5
Don't make a bet if you can't write, the cheque, for me, for me.,
'Cause I can be bought, but you'll pay the cost,
If you can afford it.
Kalith heard roars and bugles from behind her, such confident answers to her call. Why were they all so sure that even one of them would catch her? They had yet to prove their worth to her. They had yet to prove that they could even last to the point where she might, perhaps, graciously allow one of them to catch her. She knew that she was worth it to chase; she was more than worth it. Ignoring them, she focused on leaving the Weyr behind, heading for just the horizon and letting it all fall away behind her. All she knew was that she was away from her home and free in the air, rising steadily higher as she went. There was no goal; there was no limit. She thrilled in the feelings she had - utter freedom, utter control, utter dominance. No one could match her, not today. She was the Queen, of her Weyr, of his continent, of these skies, of all those flying her behind her. Even her rider couldn't control her, not when she was in the sky. This was her moment, and she was going to do what she wanted. Everyone was fully expected to understand this, without any warning or any comment from her.
Noises from behind her disturbed her revelries in her power though. Turning her head every so slightly, she spared a glance back at her suitors. The two bronzes were squabbling. She knew who both of them, somewhere in her mind, or perhaps in her riders, but they hadn't earned her taking the added expensive of energy of thinking of their names. She didn't like the little bronze; he was the identifiable as the one who'd been so brash with his bugles. The other one was off a proper size; she liked him more. Whatever, if they wanted to fight for her, they could go right ahead, but it didn't seem like they were. Anyway, it seemed that her other suitor was a brown; she didn't feel like trying to think about who he was. She just supposed they would do . . . But, wait, there was one more suitor and the large bronze was moving to block his way to her. That didn't keep her from recognizing him, and who he was blazed in her mind. Abeneth; she hissed, snarling at him as her head jerked fully around to look at him. Her face was fearsome, blood on her mouth with her teeth bared . . .
Still standing out on the ledge of their weyr, Fajra stared off after where Kalith had disappeared with her set of chasers. Her dragon's realization that this would be her day to be in control made her scramble to try and find that influence she always had. Then she was just lost in the sea of lust and emotions. Those were the things she wasn't trained to handle. Nothing could have prepared her for this. Steps nearby made her whirl around, using it as a diversion to pull away from her dragon, and her eyes locked on O'sho. Her face held little similarity to the normal closed expression that it kept. Stress lined it and fear of this entire thing was plain, even over the lust and passion she was trying to hard to keep under control. The second was so hard for her to do; she had her own passion, about this Weyr, about doing what was right it. For once in a long while, she was a person, plain to everyone. She was scared; she was tired. She wasn't superwoman; she wasn't unshakable. And she hated that she was at that point, that she was faced with things she'd locked away a long time ago.
Then she heard her dragon speak a name she'd been thinking that she wouldn't have to deal with on top of this. She hadn't seen the brown, but she hadn't gotten a good glimpse at any of her dragon's suitors. She turned away as B'rak made an appearance, hiding her face that way. Closing her eyes, she just let herself go. She didn't know what she was doing no matter what she was doing. This wasn't who she was, or, maybe, it was, hidden by the life that she led, but she didn't seem like she had much of a choice in any of this. This was what a Weyrwoman did. There, through her dragon's eyes, she could see the stupid renegade dragon, daring to fly after them. They were a them, but she still got the distinct idea that she was just experiencing the overwhelming feelings that her dragon had with her. Either way, she was angry at this fool who shouldn't be anywhere on her continent, let alone flying after him. And anger was hardly the word to describe the rage that broiled up, a combined urge to protect her home and pride for who she deserved to have chasing her set alight by her burning lust . . .
Kalith turned around on a dime, body moving so that her neck, which had been curved to look behind her, was straight. Darting forward, she used the fact that the quartet of males was still moving forward to get to them before any of them could properly react. The large bronze was in her way now. She turned her body and cut to the side of him, moving around him so she could get at her target - the hulking brown. She roared her hatred of him and her defiance of those who dared to defy her wishes. And then she was on him, moving like a snake to strike out at him, recoil, and then strike again as she moved around him like lightning. Her claws ripped at wingsails, tearing through them to send ichor dripping hundred of feet to the ground. Her teeth gnashed at empty air except for the one time she caught his tail and gave it a sharp bite. It took only took a few moments for her to do the damage that she wanted, and the brown was falling, screaming out in pain, unable to fly after her anymore. But he didn't between. The Queen didn't care, now that he was taken care of, he faded from her mind.
Suddenly, she disliked being so close to her chasers. The easiest way to get away from them was to swerve sharply to the right of where she had been originally fly before her attack, so she did. Well, it seemed that those who flew for her had gotten a warning. They would be smart about themselves, or they would end up like that good-for-nothing brown. You had a price you could pay for chasing her if she felt she was owed it. For now, she would keep them, since she did enjoy the attentions of her suitors. Anger still broiled in her body though, mixed in amongst the lust after that point, but she was streaking across the sky again. Once again, she was steadily rising up as she moved forward as well, making up for the short distance she had recently dropped and than plenty more. Once again, she was free, nothing to hold her back. Once again, she held simple disdain towards all those behind her; they only wanted to hold her down, making her fall the long distance to the ground. Well, they never would! She was going to shine, shine, shine! And she did shine, her copper hide flashing in the light . . .
When Kalith roared and snarled at Abeneth, Fajra snarled too, baring her own teeth and hissing too the open air that stretched out in front of where she stood. But then she was attacking the brown and the Weyrwoman reeled out her connection, searching for real control. She didn't have the heart in her to restrain her blood-filled, lusting Queen from maiming the renegade dragon, but she wished that she thought that she could have if she'd had it. She wavered as her dragon left her victim behind, caught somewhere in a struggle with herself and her lifemate. Inside her, she felt the broiling emotions of the flight, but other things filtered up through it - sadness, grief, joy, love, confusion. She hardly knew that she was standing on a ledge anymore, or flying with males chasing after her either, lost in things she never thought about. Sneaking out on the sands to touch the eggs when she was little, her parents getting back together, the births of her brothers and her sister, Impressing Kalith, Afzal's hatching, all the beautiful faces she'd missed in her life, her fellow weyrlings, the other candidates she'd known, all her memories she'd didn't care to dwell on.
But I don't need your dollar bills,,
I just want something real,
'Cause nothing's free, except a lovin' me.
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Post by 123notit on Mar 21, 2009 19:44:39 GMT -5
Kalith changed her path. Odyth watched it and gently allowed an updraft to float him closer to the path. He watched as she soared past the Bronze. What was her intention? The other Brown? The renegade? Surely she wasn't to give up this easily for nay of the suitors. Odyth could see the fire in her eyes.
Her intentions were soon made clear as she tore into the Brown. Panic quickly overtook Odyth. He, too, was a Brown. Was she taking out all suitors she found unworthy, namely Sub-kings? Or was it just that one that she didn't like? He wasn't going to take his chances. He beat his wings and positioned himself so he'd be able to see any attack against him.
Luckily, he watched as Kalith shoot to the right and returned to her original path and mood. That was certainly close. He was unsure of what that Brown did to deserve such a horrendous attack, but Odyth was determined not to copy it. He did not call to her for a while. He would save his energy and fly far enough away from her to not bring her wrath onto him. The right time would come and he would catch up easily, he was sure. He would catch the lovely Queen and prove Browns as capable as the higher-ranking dragons.
He kept her in his sight, admiring her lovely hide. He couldn't help it, he crooned gently to her, vocally admiring her beauty. Indeed, she was stunning. He must catch her. He must. He did not proclaim his confidence at this moment, just his admiration of her. For, still, he was nervous of her wrath.
U'ar felt his dragons panic and panic gripped his own heart. A hand flew to his chest and he inhaled quickly. However, he soon let out that inhaled breath as the carnage was over. They were safe. They would, hopefully, not be torn to bits like the unknown Brown. And what was one less suitor? It just meant that they would win all the easier. He cast his eyes at the confused Fajra. Indeed, she too looked stunning, even in her confused and passionate state. A first flight was certainly something to take a toll on the rider. He remembered his Mira mentioning the feelings she experienced. But she was strong. U'ar knew she'd be able to handle it.
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Post by jack on Mar 22, 2009 12:23:10 GMT -5
Shoth seemed more amused than anything else at Daidoroth's snap at his tail and continued forwards, his eyes whirling with lust and determination. He would catch the lovely, no matter what big bronze brutes and browns had to say about the matter.
Up and up they went, the sky opening its arms to them, but with the arrival of that foolish new Brown, things certainly would change. The lovely wheeled and Shoth put on the breaks, gliding with curious--and furious, was she going to choose the Brown?!--eyes as Kalith dove down. Anger melted into intrigue and pride as she tore through the brown, his nostrils flaring as he let a bugle of approval ring loud.
Respect blossomed in the dragon's chest and he crooned out to her as she finished mauling the Brown, his eyes whirling ever faster as he quickly spiraled after her, even more eager to catch this lovely Queen. While the Brown hung back he surged forwards, snarling a warning at the more experienced dragon--lip curled back to show his teeth as his eyes bled red--before continuing on his flight. He would have no interference from unworthy princes!
As Shoth's mind erupted in possessive flashes of color and thoughtless lust, B'rak worked to tune him out, knowing full well that there were few things as influential as Shoth at full attention. The man swallowed, unknowingly drawn in by the Bronze to observe through appreciative eyes and he broke the contact with a sharp intake of breath, understanding with rapt clarity why the Weyrwoman suddenly snarled.
He moved forwards without fear, approaching the woman with a gentle bow, but doing no more as he moved to just stand in her presence, his hand stuffed in his pockets. He wasn't going to intrude, as much as Shoth's urges begged him to do, but he would remain nearby nonetheless, feeling much more secure with her in his sight.
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Post by 123notit on Mar 22, 2009 12:58:18 GMT -5
The snarl from the Bronze certainly caught Odyth off-guard. Who was he to snarl at him? He would be the victor in this, not the Bronze. This was the exact reason young dragons bothered him. They had no respect. This one already had pretended to attack the odler Bronze. He would not put up with it.
'No!' U'ar shouted into his brown's mind. U'ar was able to snap out of the togetherness just then to pull Odyth, who was fully intent on ramming Shoth, back. It was too early for such things, not to mention much too foolish. The Bronze was young, but also a Bronze, bigger and stronger than even the large brown. U'ar didn't want Odyth ending up like the renegade Brown, torn to pieces and falling to earth in shattered chunks.
Odyth reluctantly stopped his foward motion to ram the other. Instead, shooting into a spiral towards the Queen. He gave the offending Bronze a snarl of his own, for if the Bronze attacked him, he and His would have no problem attacking back. It was survival after all.
U'ar slowly let himself slip back into oneness with Odyth. He was glad and proud that he was able to keep control over his dragon. It had been a while since he had to do it. In the few flights they participated in after Sireneth, they were usually to apathetic to care to fight. During Sireneth, they never got in fights. Sireneth would allow no one else but Odyth to catch her. Any up-and-coming young dragon who thought he could change that was soon outdid by Odyth and soon realized he stood little chance. Really, to not have to control a dragon during this experience for so long could be dangerous. The dragons were powerful creatures but they bonded to humans for the sole purpose of keeping them in control.
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Admin
Administrator
brect[M:-2154]
Posts: 3,754
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Post by Admin on Mar 22, 2009 16:07:45 GMT -5
Where did I go wrong, I lost a friend,
Somewhere along in the bitterness,
And I would have stayed up with you all night,
Had I known how to save a life.
Abeneth crooned when she said his name, but he couldn't stop her attack, even as he saw her intentions through it all. He could feel her ripping through several of the sails on each of his wings and biting into the flesh on his tail. Even though he knew what was happening, he simply struggled to stay aloft as the damage took a toil on his ability to fly and blocked out the pain. He didn't dare even strike back out at her; she was so beautiful, and he couldn't think to mar that. Nor could he defy her right, as the Queen, to choose who would win. He had thought that he could win, and he still could! And then he was falling and she was flying away.
The pain laced through his body and he screamed, but he refused to leave, feeling his rider's presence there. He couldn't go for the sake of D'ror. Twisting his body, he right himself and spread his broken wings wide. It felt like they were being burned as the wind whipped against but he didn't close them. Finally, his descent was slowed and he was moving forward. Clinging to life and trying to block out the pain, he set himself a course towards where he knew there was a safe place he could stop and his rider could help him. He landed short it, and he didn't exactly land gracefully. He was still moving faster than was normal for a landing and all he did was crash through a set of trees. The branches did slow him to a speed where he fell gently to the ground but they tore at his injuries.
D'ror screamed with his dragon, feeling the same pain he felt. Gritting his teeth, he dragged himself back with his dragon from simply passing out. His destination changed. Still sprinting, he raced towards his dragon and then where his dragon intended to go. They had supplies they could get; he could save the brown's wings, save both of their lives. On his own arms, he could feel where the damage had been done. She'd missed his main sails almost entirely and enough of them were still intact. With canvas, they could be fixed. They had to be fixed. They couldn't survive if Abeneth couldn't fly, not as renegades; it was already difficult at times. The rider was suddenly in a state of desperation, eyes darting as he raced along in a disconcerting, wild, frenzied manner.
The distance closed between them, too slowly, or maybe just fast enough. Eyes half-closed as the pain dragged at his mind, Abeneth dragged himself, now useless wings and tail spread out around him, towards the large ravine that was just visible a few dozen yards in front of him. His would save him. He would survive, and be free to fly as he wished. That was what this was all about . . . His rider felt thorns rip at his skin, but those pricks were swallowed up by the overwhelming pain he already felt. It was too far away; he just kept running. He couldn't go as fast as even his gliding, injured dragon had gone; it would take too long to reach it, no, no!
Stoically silent, his dragon pulled himself down into the ravine, gingerly folding his wings against his back as best he could and moved his tail close to his body to protect it. He poked his head into a cave and sniffed at the small stack of supplies that was hidden in its depth. Alizadehth; he breathed, seeking out her mind. She couldn't come though; he didn't call out her. Kalith would hurt her if she came; she would expose their location. All he wanted was to know that she was somewhere out there and was safe. Patient, despite the pain, he waited for his rider . . . The world faded from him, and they faded in importance to the world, who knew so little of them and what they were.
Let him know that you know best,
Cause after all you do know best,
Try to slip past his defense,
Without granting innocence.
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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 23, 2009 20:42:22 GMT -5
It was rare that O’sho would miss a moment in which Fajra spared a glance for him, let alone one where normal defenses were let down, but on the ground during the flight he was unaware of that brief time when the Weyrwoman had her eyes locked on him. Just as she knew this was Kalith’s time and the Queen would do whatever she wished, O’sho knew that this battle belonged to his King. The difference, perhaps, was that Fajra could not control things; her dragon’s actions, that was, and lest of all her own emotions. O’sho could control Daidoroth if he needed to, and he had a firm grip on himself, but he would not interfere with something important that he only played a small part in as of yet. Had he known that Fajra looked to him- confused, tumultuous, maybe even scared- he would have offered her what small comfort he could. But touching the rider of a female in flight before her dragoness had chosen was an unwise move, no matter how much either person needed or craved the contact. It was for the better, then, that O’sho only stood nearby, his head raised to the sky with his gaze and his mind somewhere far away in the distance.
O’sho did, however, react to the action above him. For no apparent reason to those watching below, he flinched. In the sky, Daidoroth had little time to react when Kalith turned on him and the others sharply and headed right towards them. He backwinged quickly to avoid her path as she plunged like an arrow into their midst, but it was not necessary, for she too evaded an immediate collision, cutting to the side of him. Daidoroth knew better than to get in her way, as his quick reactions showed. While he was fast, or more so lucky, enough to avoid her wrath and claws, the offending renegade Brown was not. Daidoroth with a sick sense of satisfaction concocted by the strong feelings of flight as Kalith screamed and tore into Abeneth. He should have felt pity for they Brown, for they were comrades who harbored the very same feelings and goals, but drive and competition of Kings transformed Abeneth’s mauling into a small personal victory.
During the attack, all of the followers had moved in closer, not only drawn by the violence, but of course by the irresistible proximity of the Queen. And she didn’t like that. Her task done and Abeneth plummeting, broken, to the ground, Kalith turned sharply, like a cornered feline, and shot off in the direction from whence she had come. Letting out an excited and enticing bugle, Daidoroth turned and once again gave chase. Higher and higher, farther and farther, Kalith made up for time lost and more. Daidoroth was not yet tired, rather energized by the excitement of the example made before. There was blood in the air. Shoth and Odyth may have leapt after her quicker than he, but he quickly passed them again, reclaiming his place behind her as they climbed.
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Admin
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Post by Admin on Mar 23, 2009 23:11:09 GMT -5
In the night, I hear 'em talk,
The coldest story ever told,
Somewhere far along this road,
He lost his soul to a woman so heartless,
How could you be so heartless?
Oh, how could you be so heartless?
The little bronze crooned to her. Perhaps he had learned to respect her; perhaps she could maybe, just maybe, get to liking him, if he showed his worthiness. But then he was snarling at her other suitors, which only spurred the remaining brown to shoot forward after having hung back. The runt was starting squabbles with the others again. So petty, so confident, so sure . . . Kalith was distracted by a strong, enticing bugle behind her. The large bronze had surpassed the others, coming to the fore again, and she could see him better than the other then out of the corner of one of her eyes. However, she would not be enticed into another, and she spread her wings yet wider, throwing more air away from her with each stroke. Tiredness could not cut through her blood fueled lust and fury, so she flew onward, shooting for the light in the sky that flashed against her hide, striving to reach beyond even the bonds she had. They were not worthy! None of them were. One of them would just have to do, one, would, perhaps, be good enough. She was not a prize to be caught; she would pick her own winner!
And there was still that pesky little bronze. He thought he would win, and he made it known, simply saying that rather than complimenting her. He thought he knew which of her suitors was best for her, thought that he was better than the brown and the other bronze that flew for her. Why was he so much better than they? He was smaller, the smallest of her suitors. He had done nothing to show his prowess at anything, simply snapping and snarling at anyone who served to threaten his position. If he was truly the best, there would be no need for that, would there? If he was truly the best, he should simply be able to out fly the others, which he wasn't doing. The large bronze flew ahead of the others; the brown flew very well, bringing honor to him that had been taken away from him by the disgrace of the other of his color that had try to fly for her. The runt of a bronze was a nobody, offering nothing to her. Why would she twine necks with him? If she fell from the sky, he would not be able to catch her. She didn't like him, and there wasn't anything he could do to redeem himself anymore.
Once again, Kalith turned back towards her suitors. This time though, she did it much more gently, gracefully bending her body to curve around rather than whirling around on nothing. She dodged agilely around Daidoroth for the second time in her flight, but back winged after that, slowing herself as she came in front of Shoth. Very delicately, she crooned to him, as if she was going to pick him, as if she cared for him. In her mind, she scoffed at the idea even as she did it, as if that was ever how she would feel about him. Her eyes almost betrayed her, swirling fast and thick with purple and red for lust and anger, but one could think that it was just because she was flying. She hovered there for a moment, just out of reach of the bronze too who she sang so gently too, even though she knew she was right in the middle of all her suitors. She wanted to savor this moment. She wanted him to get the point. She wanted them all to get the point. Only those who were worthy, only those who could prove that they were worthy, were to try to catch her, were to fly for her. Others who dared had to learn their lesson.
Fajra saw B'rak approach her, saw him bow, but hardly responded, attention fixed with her dragon's now. Well, until she felt the copper's intentions anyway. She could stand for Abeneth being maimed by the lusting Queen; she didn't like the brown enough to care even a wink about him. But Shoth . . . Shoth was a part of their Weyr, not some renegade, and he was useful. Clamping onto her wandering self, she tried to order the Queen to stop, to keep on flying, trying to kept her back on her course with her urges to fly and fly far. But she was lost, and her dragon had already decided what she wanted to do, luring her undersized, bronze target in with her false actions. Perhaps she could help though. Yanking herself away from being too embroiled in what the copper was doing, her eyes sought out the bronze's rider. "B'rak . . ." she breathed out to him, turning to face him. One would simply think that she was seeking out the rider of the dragon her dragon had chosen. She was simply trying to warn him, fighting through her dragon's fury to do so, exhibiting her own pure strength of will.
Then Kalith attacked. At first, it still seemed as if she were just perhaps choosing the runt of a bronze. She flipped herself around onto her back, as if she was going to begin to fall, but then she lunged forward. Her claws tore at Shoth's wings and the softer hide on his belly and under his legs. It only took a moment or two, the amount of time she could just float there, suspended in that position by shear determination, for her to do the damage she wanted. She left him better off than Abeneth; he'd heal up well enough. She didn't give him any opportunity to lock his claws with hers, to twine there necks and force her to fall with him though. However, she did fall. Once she was done with him, she tucked her wings against her body and arched her back, and then she was rocketing towards the ground so far below them. The force of the air against her cleaned the ichor from her claws, and, suddenly, she was just beautiful again, shining once more. It was as if she hadn't just maimed another of suitors, and, to her, it was as simple as that. She'd forgotten about the little bronze; he no longer mattered.
She screamed her defiance to the remaining bronze and brown, pulling out of her diving by spreading her wings wide. She'd hardly fallen even much of the distance she'd risen, and she was forcing her body upwards again. Though she didn't think of it, a tinge of exhaustion pulled at her wings, but she only pushed herself towards the height she had been, wanting to go even higher that. The Weyr was farther away, in some thataway, and she wasn't sure which thataway it even lay; her flight grew longer with each stroke. It was the brown or the bronze; she knew she had to pick one of them, but she neglected to think too hard about it. She didn't want to be caught; she didn't want to fall lower than the even growing height was at again. She didn't want to trapped to close to those who flew for her again. No one could hold her down, not a handsome bronze, not a gorgeous brown, not a moron, not a fool, not even her rider! Who could hold down the Queen of the sky? Who could hold the one who shone red, and orange, and yellow? No one could take away her freedom, no one, not ever!
Once again, her dragon was defiant of the idea of ever being caught again. Fajra recoiled away from B'rak, pulling herself farther away from all of her suitors. She took a step away from them, facing them straight on now so she could watch through. Once again, she was utterly lost, without a purpose, drowning in her emotions and memories, caught up in the whirlwind that was her dragon. Fear and confusion flickered across her face. She hated this! Where was she? Was she in the sky, fighting against the wind and trying to out run those behind her for the rest of time itself? Was she in a weyr, trying to keep her eye on men filled with lust? Was everything just a dream and she was back at Bay? This wasn't her! None of it made sense! Like her dragon, she showed her defiance of it all, hissing softly to herself as she clamped her teeth together. The fear remained, as did the confusion. She was supposed to control Kalith. Why couldn't she? What did all these thoughts, so filled with feelings she didn't normally feel, mean? Why did his face keep flickering and flickering through her mind?
How could you be so cold,
As the winter wind when it breeze,
Just remember that you talkin' to me though,
You need to watch the way you talkin' to me,
I mean after all the things,
That we've been through.
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Post by jack on Mar 23, 2009 23:53:10 GMT -5
The larger Bronze soared past him and Shoth scoffed, eyes blazing red as he pumped his own wings, claws raking the sky as he charged up from behind, his pleased glide immediately replaced with the need to be in front. He would not fall behind!
Already his wings were burning, the speed and agility graced to them shortcutting the endurance he should have, but he had no intention of stopping. The lovely was so close...and then..she turned.
He immediately slowed his own pace, keeping his distance as he observed her with surprising thoughtfulness, nostrils flaring in distrust and the urge to go to her mixed together. Closer she sailed, and that voice. Red melted for violent and he let his wings glide towards her as well, his bugle echoing softly as he carefully approached, the sight of her claws ripping through wings all too clear in his mind.
B'rak's breathing was disturbed, his sight flickering from Shoth's to his own and his brows furrowed, fingers digging into his crossed arms. Stressed, he was slow to turn to Fajra, reacting with a surprised grunt when he heard her speak. A brow arched in notable questioning, before things clicked. Immediately he wheeled around towards the sky, "Shoth!!"
The dragon suddenly wheeled, the physical voice of his lifemate nothing in comparison to the booming voice in his mind. His distrust of the Queen multiplied like storm clouds with the sound of His's voice, louder than the soft-spoken man had ever called. Kalith rolled towards him and he screamed, eyes whirling a bloody red as he reared back to meet her, claws up in guard and neck arched, his wings folded tight against his body.
He dove to the side in a barrel-roll as her claws raked through his underside, deftly avoiding the swipes to his wings and kicking out against her as he fell. Any respect gained was dashed, nothing but fury and hatred burning in his gaze as he dropped, a rush of emotions flooding B'rak's mind. The man put a hand to his forehead, gritting his teeth as the dragon snapped his wings open just feet above the ground and glided, his enraged roar transmitted through mind and air loud enough to make the miner wince and dig his fingers into the window-sill he was leaning out of.
Relief--that his dragon was safe and his wings were fine--rushed through him and the white-haired boy swallowed, trembling despite himself. He could have lost him. B'rak turned and brushed past Fajra, the gratefulness he felt for her dwarfed by his lifemate's hatred of her dragon. Swallowing he forced himself to turn before leaving the room, giving a curt bow at the Weyrwoman and a barely audible "thank you" before rushing out of the room, a hand over his gut where the Queen's claws had dug deep.
Shoth would need to go to the infirmirary and quickly, before he bled to death in his fuming--and from the sound of it--his rampage around the bowl. But he was alive--and that's all B'rak needed to know.
ooc: And Shoth and B'rak are out~
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Post by 123notit on Mar 25, 2009 15:19:08 GMT -5
While Odyth and Shoth had their slight disagreement in the sky, Daidoroth pushed past them. No, that would not do. Odyth had to catch up. Just as he was about to spread his wings to full length and allow them to push him forward with all their might, the Queen turned back toward them once again.
Odyth watched as she passed the large bronze and went to the younger, cocky one. She sang so sweetly that sadness and longing swirled with the lust in the brown's eyes. Surely, she couldn't have chosen that one. She was so beautiful and sang so sweetly. No, it couldn't be true. Odyth watched carefully, wings still at the ready, pushing him forward slowly, while not getting him too close to the bronze and Queen.
Then it happened. Just like the other brown, though not nearly as bad. Odyth allowed himself to drift a little farther away to the side, fearing being the next. Though he wouldn't deny that the bronze probably deserved it, being so cocky and snarling at him, the Queen was violent. Violent and defiant. How long would they have to fly to catch her? She didn't seem to want to be caught, to continue on their great race.
Odyth glanced at the remaining Bronze. He was older like himself. They were both experienced with good riders. Either man would make a fine Weyrleader. Both were surely good dragons. But Odyth wouldn't let the Bronze win. He pushed his wings now, shooting forward. Soon, he was close to the Bronze, giving another sweet, complimentary call to Kalith.
The sun was shining so beautifully on her hide, her defiance made the lust withing grow more. She was independent and lovely. Though nothing like his Sireneth from the path, she was a new lustful inspiration for the Brown. He felt like a young dragon again. No, the Bronze couldn't catch her. Odyth must.
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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 26, 2009 10:56:08 GMT -5
Daidoroth ignored Shoth’s snappy ostentatiousness at again trying to reclaim the lead from the larger Bronze. He was over Shoth’s antics. All of his showing off he could ignore, but if he tried to touch him again Daidoroth would remove him from the sky as Kalith had done to Abeneth. Until then he was only a nuisance. His other, flight summoned emotions were far, far stronger than his annoyance with the competition.
Daidoroth was surprised and backwinged respectfully again when Kalith turned for a second time. This was different, though. Instead of turning sharply with malice in her eyes, she gently curved around and wove her way over to Shoth. Wordlessly. She came to a stop in front of Shoth and crooned to him delicately. What was this? All of the Queen’s body language was making it seem as though she had chosen Shoth. Through his confusion and protest, Daidoroth harbored a fair amount of doubt in the choice that seemed to be being made. He couldn’t say that he knew Kalith well, but from their conversations and all that he had observed, there was no way she would quit so early, let alone stop and offer herself to one of her suitors. Even if she had expended a lot of energy mauling Abeneth, she could not be spent already. Nevertheless, Daidoroth hovered nearby enviously.
His secretly harbored doubt, however, proved to be correct when, just as Kalith seemed really to be offering herself to Shoth, she attacked. She flipped herself over from where she had been floating, deceivingly submissive, before and lunged forward. Her teeth and claws ripped at all of Shoth’s vital spots, or whatever she could reach. As before, it was a terrible, violent affair as she tore into him. This second time, though, she did not attack with comparable destructive intent. It seemed as though she had tried to kill Abeneth, but this time it seemed she only wanted the offending Bronze out of the sky. If he died, well, that would just be a plus.
Daidoroth watched the attack solemnly and was not abashed when Shoth also dropped from sky. And as soon as he was out of sight, he was out of mind. Finished with her task, Kalith abruptly followed suit and let herself fall, rocketing towards the ground. Daidoroth immediately snapped his wings to his side and fell, his locked gaze on Kalith the only thing that controlled his potentially deadly plummet- a feat that only the dragons of Pern could achieve. The roar of the wind against his body and the fleeting thought that this fall could be the one lent great fervor to the (now only) Bronze’s chase. He could fly long, he could fly far, he was not even tired yet with all of these stops Kalith had made. Her dips, dives, and detours were nothing he hadn’t seen before. He was drawn to follow her motions, captivated by the unrivaled beauty of her glowing hide. That was something he hadn’t seen before, and he would pursue it to Rubkat and back.
There it was, that defiant scream, and Kalith had unfurled her wings and was aloft again, soaring higher. Daidoroth threw open his impressive wingspan and the wind caught him, carrying him on its shoulders towards his goal. Again he was right behind her. This time Odyth drew close, singing his compliments to the Queen. Daidoroth did not mind his propinquity as he had minded Shoth’s, though he still kept a small lead. Odyth was older and experienced like himself, and for that he gave him a certain amount of respect, even if his hide ranked lower. Compelled by Odyth and the swing of the flight, Daidoroth let his voice be heard for the first time since he had launched himself from his ledge. He crooned to Kalith sweetly, letting all his emotions be heard through his song.
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Admin
Administrator
brect[M:-2154]
Posts: 3,754
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Post by Admin on Mar 27, 2009 21:40:36 GMT -5
Forgetting all I'm lacking,
Completely incomplete,
I'll take your invitation,
You take all of me now.
Her two remaining suitors were . . . acceptable. They sang their pretty songs to her. The brown's was a complimentary call and the bronze's was a sweet croon. Out of the corner of her eye, she watched them, noting every motion that they made as she soared through the air with her effortless grace. Both of them wer experienced and flew after her well. The bronze held the lead, but the brown held his own; they seemed as if they'd be able to keep up with her. Both of them had earned the right to remain, over the fools who had since fallen to her, unable to keep up. That was how she viewed it - Shoth and Abeneth hadn't been able to keep up with her. Just because she had made a special, violent attempt to each to remove them from her flight made no difference; she'd been testing all of those who chased her with each of her dips and dives, twists and turns. The two that still flew after her, close behind at that, had passed her tests so far; they had been capable, and graciously allowed, to remain in the sky. They called to her, tried to tempt her with their pretty voices, showing her how much they adored her.
But why did any of that matter? She was Kalith. They admired her, but why shouldn't they? Perfectly aware of every fiber of her being, she saw her own beauty. It was only her opinion that matter, and she knew that she could compete with the best of the best in anything that mattered. Copper hide, sharp claws and teeth, long tail, long neck, long legs, slender body, strong wings, pure muscle, elegant, graceful, dangerous - she knew how she could be described. She knew there were words that some like that would not describe her - pretty, cute, soft, adorable, cuddly, sweet - but she didn't care about those. So, why did anything that her suitors do matter? She didn't need them! Never would she need them. It was only the lust, the power of the flight, that made her want one of them, but her true personality shone through all that. She refused to give it, to simply allow herself to be caught. She refused to allow herself to be swayed, to slow even as she considered the qualities of those who trailed behind her. Iron or bronze, brown or purple, it didn't matter to her! None of them matter to her at all!
Another defiant scream rent the air. Kalith was vocal and open about her feelings, bluntly informing the brown and the bronze who wished to catch her that she would not be caught! They weren't even worthy! Aggression still drove her with her lust, she tore to the side, spiraling across the sky in an effort to try to add more space between her and her suitors. She certainly was physically capable of giving anyone who was trying for her a long run for their money. She defined grace and elegance; she simply was something that gave off that aura of the unattainability with just the way that she moved and carried herself. Every movement came in a flash, decided a moment before it was made and done with utter efficiency and speed. Her build was long - built for such reflexes and agility. Her body showed off the muscle it was composed of - there was a reason she could take a brown out of the sky without batting a metaphorical eyelash. If one of them was going to catch her, if she so felt inclined, they were going to have to keep up with her! She would not twine necks with some lazy, weak little grub.
It was only a few minutes before she straightened her path though, cutting her acrobatic display and test short of what she had been thinking. Finally, her mounting exhaustion began to tug at her mind and threatened to cause her to slow. She forced herself onward, focusing all her energy on keeping her wings beating at their same quick and powerful pace that they had always kept. Her attacks on her suitors had tired her out; it required so much energy to yank herself around and do the damage necessary. Though they were intended to tax her suitors, all of her actions taxed her as well. There was nothing but her adrenaline and her one determination to keep her going. The energy that the blood she'd drunk earlier was gone and all other reserves she had were reaching there breaking points. Still, those two forces that she had remaining were something to be a reckoned with in themselves. Her firm belief that she wouldn't be caught turned into the firm belief that she would keep flying yet, that she wouldn't allow her suitors to close in on her any more.
She'd have to choose. She hated admitting that she wasn't going to be capable of going on forever, of reaching the stars and Rukbat and the end of the heavens themselves, or even going much longer. However, she contented herself enough, with her lust coming forward more again, that she would choose her winner. She weighed her choices, wanting to make the right one, pick the one that deserved her the most, for whatever reason. Sadly, upon proper thought, they seemed to both have plenty of worth to them. Perhaps the bronze? He was a proper King, the biggest of any of her suitors. In her mind, she could vaguely remember as someone she had known before this event. He'd only called to her twice since she had awoken, but they rang true. He was always there, always at the front. Perhaps the brown? He did not have a metallic hide, but it would be petty to judge him on just that. He flew strong and true, as his color should, and showed merit to her even beside the bronze. His calls were sweet and so complimentary. But perhaps the bronze? No, perhaps the brown? Or perhaps the bronze . . .
Yes, the bronze . . . You'll do, my dear Daidoroth. It was only the second time she'd spoke during the entire flight, and this time held no similarity to the first. The words were not hissed in disgust, intended as threatening. This time, the words were sweeter, clearer. They still held defiance and a touch of mocking, colored by lust and less pure emotions, but they rang with truth regardless. It was not fake, as her actions towards the runt bronze had been, but utterly real. They cut like daggers, as only something so decisive could, but rang on as well. She had made her choice . . . And then she was falling, truly falling. She tumbled from the sky, her wings were half tucked, exhaustion making them useless to her. Finally, she had her acceptance; finally, she had her peace. Her King would catch her; no one but her King could catch her. He'd flown for her, and he would do, because he was right for her, because, for a moment, she could think of him as perfect. All in a rush, she could remember his name, precious and close in her mind, and could remember who he was. Well, he was just her King now, regardless.
In a flash, confusion gave way for Fajra as her dragon made her choice. The emotions finally drowned her, sucking her into their depths, but, through them, she could suddenly realize where her control had gone, where it had hidden, clouded by her own lack of ability to understand any of this. She accepted where she was in everything. Even in the confusion of the uncontainable dragon lust she had now, she was so much more sure of herself and oriented in were she stood. Perhaps it was just because the strength of that one simple emotion filled up almost her entire mind, driving out other feelings and memories to some far off realm deep inside of her mind. With her own confusion gone, replaced with confusion caused by her dragon, she was the Weyrwoman who knew what to do again. Fear left; thoughts fled. There were only two things that filled up her mind, backed up by all the surging lust. The first of the tasks she accomplished quickly with a firm order to her dragon that only took her a moment to get properly into her mind - come back, bring your King back, come back to her, come back quickly!
Once the first task was done, the second one came forward. It wasn't an utterly concrete idea, but simply a strong, well defined instinct. It was her eyes that sought him out first. Everything else appeared a bit out of focus for her but she could see him clearly when they settled on him - O'sho, Kalith's King's rider. She took one step towards him, sort of lurching. Then her own mind asserted itself, because she was the sort of person who asserted herself. Filled with dragon lust, there wouldn't be any stopping the series of events that followed, but her own disposition shown through, just like it did with her dragon. Rising up to her full, impressive height, she closed the gap between them with one purposeful step. For a moment, she wavered. The fear and confusion flickered in her blue eyes. She had disliked O'sho . . . No, she didn't . . . But was that her or Kalith deciding that? She gave it up, her lips finding the bronzerider's. Her eyes closed; the strong emotions, besides the lust, she'd felt for a moment faded. As her dragon fell, she pressed herself against the new Weyrleader.
Letting go of all I've held onto,
I'm standing here until you make me move,
I'm hanging by a moment here with you,
I'm living for the only thing I know.
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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 31, 2009 12:08:41 GMT -5
Daidoroth continued to let his song unfold lovingly as they continued. His voice- deep, warm, roughly velvet, and inviting- swelled and serenaded Kalith as he soared after her, casting a large majestic shadow on the clouds that he surpassed. The sun was strong, though they had somehow left the physical heat far behind. Though his own hide shown handsomely, reflecting the metallic sheen that graced the hide of the great dragon Kings and Queens, he didn’t garner a flicker of interest next to his gorgeous copper Queen. His song expressed Kalith’s majesty- how Rubkat paled in comparison to her, how she was the real sun in the sky and her beauty could be surpassed by no living creature or thing on that or any planet.
But no, Kalith would not by swayed by or swoon to such things. Daidoroth let his song be lost in and dwindle to a hum as Kalith rent the air with a proud, defiant scream. Daiodorth closed his eyes and allowed her voice to reverberate through his body, never missing a beat. Opening them again, he saw he throw herself sideways and spiral across the sky, widening the distance between them. No, he did not like that. Try as she might to deny the urges she had, she could not, and the Bronze knew and did not deny his own. Tilting and tucking his own wings slightly, Daidoroth imitated her movements, knowing he was capable. He admired the grace with which she spun, as only a skilled and beautiful female could do, his own aerial acrobatics done with obvious strength and accuracy.
When Kalith pulled out of her graceful spirals, Daidoroth did the same, straightening out and following her as closely as he thought she would allow. The past display had been enthusing, but the first hint of fatigue tinged his wings. They had flown far, and all the while at a rapid pace. During the flight he had not noticed, but were he to look back now, he would realize that they were far away from Dalibor indeed. If he was beginning to tire then surely too was Kalith, for she had spent far more energy than he by removing her unworthy suitors from the sky. Of Odyth he was unaware and unconcerned, focused only on Kalith and specifically not on the nagging feeling of taxation in his limbs. Were they going slower now? It seemed as though both she and he were putting more effort into pumping their wings and staying aloft. How Daidoroth desired her! Had she not been so strong the object of his affections then he would have had to acknowledge that feeling that was admittedly in his wings, but he would tenaciously persist until the very end. He refused for it to be any other way.
All at once he heard Kalith’s voice in his mind. It was a tone he had never heard from her before. The words were true and sweet- perhaps the sweetest he had ever heard at that moment. They had not lost her ever present defiance and confidence, but they were not coy. They were said with decision. And as Kalith finally began to fall, Daidoroth surged forward powerfully with just as much decision. She did not have to fall far by herself. In a flash Daidoroth was by her side, his neck wrapping and entwining with hers and his big wings wrapped lovingly and protectively around her body. Even their tails were curled together as they fell as one. Daidoroth felt utterly whole, complete, and happy as he rocketed, care-free, towards the ground, pressed close to Kalith. The ground would grow closer and closer as they tumbled dangerously towards it, but he would not spread his wings and glide just above the terrain until they were in true peril of smashing into the earth.
O’sho was overcome by Daidoroth’s feelings as Kalith called out to him and he lunged forward to wrap himself in her so they could fall together. The rider took a blind step forward as Daidoroth leapt in the sky. It was done. With difficulty he brought himself back, his eyes refocusing slowly. He looked up searchingly, his heart set on finding only one person. He didn’t have to look far, for Fajra had faltered only as he had been looking up, and closed the gap between them with a strong, purposeful step just as his eyes found her. For a candlemark neither did anything, and O’sho stared down into her eyes with a visible pallet of emotions. She was so beautiful- the most alluring creature he had ever seen, especially in her confusion. It made her face soft, absent of its usual constructed cold and calm façade. She was always so strong, and getting to see her as thus was a privilege, one she hadn’t chosen and may hate him for.
But oh, O’sho did not care what would come later. He gently took her doubtful face in his big hand and her lips found his. At this contact all of his thoughts melted and he was large prey to Daidoroth’s emotions and the lust that was rampant in this flight. He finished her kissed her gently and then pressed his lips back on hers firmly, searching. His hand on her cheek slid to the back of her neck and his other arm wrapped around her back and pulled her against him. These emotions were too strong, their thoughts too needy for one another, for them to be in their present location. There were too many people. Exercising every amount of his remaining human sense of responsibility unswayed by the lust, he picked her up and carried her to her Weyr. When he was young and unable to control his emotions, especially with younger, like-minded queen riders, they had had to be guided to a Weyr, but he couldn’t imagine or allow anyone else to touch him right now. Their lips lost connection with the slight jostle, and he allowed his to wander up and down her throat and shoulders until they found their way and he lay her down gently on her bed and followed suite…
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