Sakoru
Drudge
THE FEARSOME FIERY BEAST
Posts: 11
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Post by Sakoru on Aug 8, 2011 20:16:31 GMT -5
Alatira wasn't sure how her firelizard had ended up so... not firelizard-y. They were supposed to be active, and playful, and energetic. Chubblet was none of the above. Unsure if he actually had muscles, his owner had on occasion dropped him from a height to see if he could fly. He could. The blue could use his wings... he just didn't unless he had to. Why was that? Why did he just lie there, all the time, and do nothing but chirp at her? Oh, and he demanded food and belly rubs, too. And oiling. Alatira could deal with all of those, but she still wondered how she had managed to end up with Pern's least nonfunctional firelizard.
"What's wrong with you?" the blackrider demanded rhetorically, poking her flit in the belly. He was lying on the rock in front of her, and she was sprawled on her belly to be at his level, staring at him. Chubblet, always helpful, chirped in annoyance at being poked, but didn't move. Alatira sighed. "I think you're broken," she informed him, and pulled herself into a sitting position, scooting closer to the blue. He trilled inquiringly, and the wingrider reached out to catch one of his wings between her fingers and extend it towards the sky. She let go, and it flopped back to his side, folding the way it had before. Alatira was pretty sure it had done that because of gravity and not because her flit had exerted any kind of effort towards that end.
Syrryth's chose a bad egg, Shiragath observed wisely. His rider glanced at him, and smiled wryly, idly rolling Chubblet over with one hand. The flit scolded her loudly, but the blackrider grabbed one of his hind legs and playfully shook it anyway, eliciting more complaints. "Serves you right. You don't even try to get away," she pointed out, and Chubblet glared at her. The effect was somewhat muted by his eyes -- she'd never seen them whirl in any shades but blue and green.
Shiragath snorted, and sprawled out lazily across the broad flattish space he had chosen for his sunbathing today. Most dragons liked to stretch out on the Rim, but he preferred to be close to his Alatira, even if she happened to have that silly flit with her. It wasn't that the black didn't like Chubblet -- it was just that there was no purpose to him. Maybe Syrryth's rider had given his egg to his human with the intent that the contents would be useful, but they definitely weren't. Chubblet existed. That was all he did. Oh, and he scolded people, and ate food -- but that was about it. At least Alatira appeared to enjoy bothering him; she playfully opened the flit's jaws (did he resist anything?) and then placed the blue tail in between them. The blue glared at her, but didn't do anything. It was pretty sad, really.
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Ruin
Wingrider
ruinct[M:-786]
We build the worlds we wouldn't mind living in
Posts: 1,137
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Post by Ruin on Aug 8, 2011 21:19:28 GMT -5
They had been watching. Oh yes they had. Their minds were like a flow of thoughts to one another with so much detail that they never had to spare a glance at anything save their target. Images flashed between them like synapsis firing in an overactive brain and they plotted: Oh yes they plotted. Once the two-legged had placed the Blue’s tail inside his own mouth they struck. In tandem they went between and then appeared again on either side of the large flit; their bodies off of the rock on which he lay by scant inches—wings fanned holding them aloft. Then they landed, and once they landed they enacted their great plan.
Together they rolled the large flitter off of the rock and across the dusty Bowl; once they had gained enough ground from the buxom Blue’s bonded they began rolling him back and forth between their forepaws, playing with him as if he were a ball while bombarding him with flashing Images. WHY WAS HE SO LARGE. WHY DID HE NOT FLY. WHAT WAS HE DOING. WHY WAS HE HERE. WAS HE AN INTRUDER. WHO DID HE WORK FOR. WHAT DID HE DO TO EAT. WHERE DID HE GO. WHO DID HE FLY. WHO WAS HIS TWO LEGGER. WHO WAS THAT LARGE BLACK COUSIN. ANSWER. ANSWER.
It was around this time that Sebol saw the two of them and with a grim set to his mouth he trotted across the remaining distance that had separated them; when he saw the Blackrider and assumed she must be the owner of the flit in question he found himself somewhat angry—internally at least. Again he would suffer the consequences of Xiro’el’s training of the twins; certainly this woman would be utterly flummoxed and then enraged, and the Black would join her, and then it would all go downhill—he’d probably end up stabbed on top of it. With a soft sigh he did his best to chase the two Blues off of their target and turned apologetic eyes on the woman. ”Sorry about that, they typically don’t—I’m Sebolaren, Sebol for short.”
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Sakoru
Drudge
THE FEARSOME FIERY BEAST
Posts: 11
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Post by Sakoru on Aug 8, 2011 22:16:44 GMT -5
Being abused by His wasn't fair! Chubblet glared at her indignantly, but didn't let go of his tail. Fine. She wanted him to hold his tail? He'd hold his tail! He wouldn't let go of it! Ever! Unfortunately, upon making this resolution the blue flit was abruptly attacked by two other blue flits, and he shrieked in alarm and indignation, clinging harder to his own tail. No! This wasn't fair! They should stop it! He didn't like being rolled around like a ball!
Squealing, Chubblet glared at his two tormentors as they rolled him back and forth between themselves. Their questions, firing into his brain, utterly baffled him; he hissed and fired images back: he didn't know what they were talking about, so they should shut up and go away! And he didn't want to be rolled back and forth! He was not a ball! Why didn't anyone understand that lately? He wanted to be pampered and loved on, not rolled in the dirt! His hide needed to be bathed and oiled now! What were they doing? Why were they so mean? Why were they even picking on him!?
When two flits abruptly appeared out of nowhere and kidnapped Chubblet, Alatira stared after them for a moment in amazement. That had never happened before. Once the proper horror had set in, however, the blackrider bounded to her feet and scrambled after them, shouting. "Hey! Leave him alone!" They did -- but only because of the gigantic man who was now approaching her, she was sure. Brows drawn together in consternation, the rider plucked her slightly defective flit up off the ground and cradled him close to her chest, easing his tail out from between his jaws before turning to the big man.
"They're yours?" Obviously. "Alatira. Of black Shiragath." She indicated the sunning dragon, who didn't appear to be in the least concerned by all the drama. Shiragath watched the man with cool blue eyes, and though he settled more comfortably he didn't take his gaze off Sebolaren. Used to this, Alatira offered her dragon a smile and then looked back to Sebol, holding her pet protectively against her chest. "I know Chubblet's kind of sad as firelizards go, but why'd they steal him? I mean... look at this." The blackrider adjusted Chubblet to lie in the crook of one arm, and flailed his back feet about with her other hand. He didn't move a muscle, and didn't even make noise for fear that the Horrible Bad Flits would come back. "He wasn't bothering them."
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Ruin
Wingrider
ruinct[M:-786]
We build the worlds we wouldn't mind living in
Posts: 1,137
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Post by Ruin on Aug 8, 2011 23:24:21 GMT -5
Easing his face into a smile, or as much of one as he could manage that didn’t completely hide his shame and genuine concern, he gave a nod to the daybathing Black and then his attention fell again on his Rider. ”Well met, Shiragath and Alatira; and one of them is—which may be part of the problem. They’re twins, and the darker of the two is bonded to my blood-brother: Who is Traderborn and has decided they must be trained in the ways of subterfuge and…apparently theft I honestly have no idea.” Falling into a baffled, awkward silence, he scratched at the back of his head; listening to her and eyeing the large Blue with appreciation, he was about to answer when the twins appeared as one—in tandem as usual—and landed on his shoulders. Or should he say shoulder. Avsiran had landed beside Sigard in a posture he’d not yet witnessed.
Feeling somewhat confused, and off-balanced, he squared himself more firmly and gave them both a glowering look. ”Well you two, you heard the Dragonrider; what have you to say for yourselves? Why did you harass this poor firelizard?” The twins, to their credit, did turn their swirling eyes on him, but their eyes held only confusion—mock confusion. Sebolaren well knew that firelizard memory was far and away better than that of dragons; they seemed to remember people like no other beasts, and even events: Because of this, his lips pursed into an angry line and he pressed them mentally, still they did not budge. With a sigh he offered up a lopsided shrug. ”I’ll have to ask Xiro’el what his game is; they won’t tell me—which is too peculiar to be anything but training.” Sigard did offer his bonded a slightly apologetic cheep, but the two Blues remained steadfast in their focus—which was Chubblet.
”I am sorry; although at least they didn’t take him off somewhere—they’ve learned to carry things far larger than normal because they work together. I wouldn’t be surprised if there were other things they’ve learned to do: All of which I’m sure the Cyanweyrling has had a hand in teaching them.” Hopefully this wouldn’t lead to a bridge burned from the flits overreaction—or games; at least Sebol had been nearby, and able to intercede before anything tragic happened. Thankfully the Black dragon didn’t appear too angry; Sebolaren wasn’t sure that the twins understood they could be eaten by larger creatures.
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Sakoru
Drudge
THE FEARSOME FIERY BEAST
Posts: 11
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Post by Sakoru on Aug 9, 2011 0:31:56 GMT -5
Shiragath was pleased to be acknowledged. He wasn't always -- some people didn't regard blacks as worthwhile, and some just had no respect for dragonkind. It didn't make the giant precisely good in his regard, but the black accepted that His was going to be speaking to him. That was fine, but he was going to supervise. Small for a dragon or not, he could still protect His if this person proved not to be trustworthy. Mind, he didn't want to have to. Violence was not fun. He did not like blood and pain and violence. They scared him.
"Not really well met, but it's nice to meet you," Alatira volunteered gamely, and raised a brow at the description of the man's blood-brother. "I always knew traders were nuts," she remarked dryly, and then glared at the two flits as they appeared, gathering Chubblet closer to her. "Tell him to stop training them in doing whatever they were doing! Chubblet didn't like it. I mean... he really doesn't do much to stick up for himself, but still!" What were the blues even doing, anyway? The darker one was huddled right up against the other, wedged so close that if not for the different shades of their hides Alatira wouldn't have been able to tell them apart. And he was trilling, apparently perfectly content with himself. Oh, the nerve of him! Of both of them!
Although not expecting much of an answer from the two horrible firelizards, the blackrider eyed them anyway. As expected, they apparently didn't say anything, and at the giant's words, Alatira frowned. "Whatever he's training them to do, it's not very nice. Attacking other flits is mean. Especially ones like Chubblet." Not that it would matter if her fat pet just got up and flew away or betweened to their weyr or something, but it was the principle of the matter! Besides, they were still staring at her blue! Chubblet was creeling nervously, staring back at them and huddling into the safety of his human's arms. They were bad! Mean bad horrible flits that shouldn't even be alive!
Picking up on her firelizard's thoughts, Alatira stroked the soft wings comfortingly, and hoisted the heavy flit, trying to adjust him so her arms wouldn't get tired. True, she was strong, but with the way he just lay there, Chubblet was dead weight. Even a flit his size could get really heavy after a while. "I wouldn't be surprised either. I hope they didn't hurt him." The blackrider frowned, and held her pet up in front of her, turning him back and forth. No injures were apparent -- just dirt smudged on his hide. He chirped uncertainly, and Alatira gathered him back to her chest, then unzipped her jacket, stuffed him inside, and adjusted her pet so his head was sticking out her collar. From there, Chubblet glowered at the two other blues, safe now that he was with his bonded. Bad flits! "Do they always attack people's pets?"
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Ruin
Wingrider
ruinct[M:-786]
We build the worlds we wouldn't mind living in
Posts: 1,137
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Post by Ruin on Aug 9, 2011 1:36:36 GMT -5
”Trust me, I’ve tried,” came the reply grimly; though he allowed her previous words to gloss over him: Hopefully this entire situation could be salvaged somehow—though as she continued to fawn over the plump firelizard his hope for that was beginning to dwindle: Oh the talking-to he’d have with his blood-brother. ”I’m not sure what he’s been doing when I’m busy, and no, I’ve never seen them attack another’s pet before this. Although I wouldn’t call it an attack either—I have seen them attack tunnelsnakes, and that usually ends with it torn in two and fairly mutilated. They seemed to be curious, and I suppose somewhat interrogative. “
Shrugging again he turned his eyes back on the twins who only rumbled quietly; with a mental nudge he convinced them that perhaps they should go off and find other things to do, or better yet return to Xiro’el and maul him instead. When they didn’t immediately leap from his shoulder and make themselves scarce he was temporarily concerned that they wouldn’t listen at all, but then they shivered into life and dropped from his shoulder with another reproachful chatter from them both: Blinking between and hopefully out of trouble. ”There; they shouldn’t be back to bother Chubblet.”
At least not now, hopefully not ever, but he was smarter than to make a promise he couldn’t keep. Eyes returning briefly to the Black he smiled, and gave the Dragonrider another measuring gaze. ”He’s a very powerful looking dragon; how is it to fly him? I’ve heard Blacks are the most agile.”
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Sakoru
Drudge
THE FEARSOME FIERY BEAST
Posts: 11
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Post by Sakoru on Aug 9, 2011 1:53:26 GMT -5
Sebol's answer did not reassure Alatira, and she frowned. "Well, at least he's not hurt," she allowed dubiously, and then paused, seeking her pet's mind and gently asking for his memories of the event. He creeled piteously, but sent her images of all the things the horrible mean bad flits had said to him. All the questions! The horrible questions! He hadn't even known what was going on and it had been horrible!
Soothing her flit mentally, the blackrider returned her gaze to the giant and offered a wry smile, less concerned for her flit now that she knew the two blues had only been interrogating him. Interrogating him in weird and terrifying fashion, but not trying to kill him. "They were asking him questions. All sorts of weird questions, by his reckoning. I'm not sure what they were; I can't make any of it out, really. He's a bit... hysterical." The unhappy cheep from her jacket collar affirmed this statement. Chubblet was not coming out! Not ever! He didn't want to deal with the horrible blues!
"Oh, good. He'll be happy to know that," Alatira responded lightly, and transferred the information to Chubblet. The fat blue trilled appreciatively, and snuggled deeper into his human's coat, apparently content now that he was no longer being harassed. It in fact took him just seconds to fall fast asleep, and the blackrider smiled, glad that that drama, at least, was over. And then the subject turned, happily, to Shiragath: the rider glanced to her dragon, and the look on her face softened. Grey-green eyes warmed significantly, and she smiled before returning her gaze to Sebolaren.
"He's a joy to fly. I haven't flown any of the other colours, of course, but he is very agile, especially compared to lots of the others in his wing. He can fly without a sound, too, if he wants to. All blacks can." Her tone implied that Shiragath was, of course, the best at it. And to her, why shouldn't he be? He was her bonded. Her dragon. "You're a... candidate?" She narrowed her eyes as if this would help her discern the man's status for sure. He wasn't wearing shoulder knots, but he also wasn't bustling to and fro as a drudge or lower caverns worker would have been. Therefore, there were a limited number of things he could be... and candidate was her best guess, since this was a Weyr.
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Ruin
Wingrider
ruinct[M:-786]
We build the worlds we wouldn't mind living in
Posts: 1,137
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Post by Ruin on Aug 9, 2011 2:08:10 GMT -5
”Without sound,” the words fell from his mouth tinged with awe as he looked the Black over with new appreciation; something so large flying without sound. Of course in terms of dragonkind the Blacks weren’t exactly large, but they were large compared to a runnerbeast, and those could only move without sound if the ground permitted: This was air how did air become soundless. ”I am quite impressed; he could sneak up on anything!” Briefly he wondered if they had, back during the assassinations and battles, and all the other traumatic Dalibor events he had heard only whispers of. Not exactly the best subject to follow the traumatizing experience of Chubblet with, however, so he avoided it entirely.
”I am a Candidate, for the dragons, and quite excited about Couineth’s clutch—or soon to be clutch I suppose. I stood for Callistath but I did not Impress: This time, however, I feel confident.” Which he did, but that was likely to change as the date came closer: Of course it wouldn’t be the desperate and unworthy foreboding it had been seasons ago, but certainly he would feel anxiety and nervousness, and there was always that quiet question in the back of his mind—what if? Shaking that one off, he offered the Blackrider another smile. ”When did you Impress, and was it your first time standing?”
Silly questions, he supposed, to be asking—especially after his firelizards had traumatized hers, but he was quick to recover generally, and he wasn’t at fault—Xiro’el was. He’d do his best to patch things up between himself and this Dragonrider, wouldn’t do to make enemies when Threadfall was coming. They’d need each other—everyone would; none of them had faced the threat before. None of them had even seen it. It was entirely new; much like the twins had been for Chubblet, and some of them would undoubtedly react similarly.
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