Post by lee on Dec 2, 2013 14:20:25 GMT -5
{desc=Weyrbrat Theatre}
ooc;; go, be merry! Pick a scene and play it, observe in the audience, fret backstage, whatever
This was stupid. Oshumer wrinkled his nose in unhappy distaste as someone—some adult, whose presence he only tolerated because she was wearing Harper blue—was poking at his costume, straightening the stumpy tail. Why'd he have to be a dumb old wher anyway? Everyone knew dragons were much cooler. Privately, Oosh acknowledged that some whers were pretty okay. Naanask and Disk were nice enough, and maybe—maybe he said, he wasn't committing to nothing—it would be nice someday to get a hug a from Yusk. Oosh fidgeted, and shifted out of reach of the hands trying to comb his already unkempt hair with a ferocious scowl that suggested if they came close again he just might bite them on principle. He didn't get many hugs, and sometimes they stank like old wine and spoilt milk or the funny smelly stuff his mom put in her hair, but sometimes...sometimes they were kind of nice, so he figured getting one from a wher would be okay. Maybe. (And who cared if not? Hugs were kind of stupid too anyway, he figured defensively.) But he had to keep up appearances, being the only dragon-lover in a straight up horde of wher fans.
But that still didn't mean he wanted to be a wher. Even if Tybalsk was kind of a cool one. Originally he'd been an iron, but after the Really Important Super Cool Hatching that Oosh hadn't been allowed to go to because his stupid mom had suddenly remembered he existed and left him in the care of a silly cavern girl who was afraid of hatchings and watched him like a wherry—then why did she live in a Weyr anyway? Some people were dumb—someone had hastily resewn the costume in bronze.
He'd still rather be a dragon.
Although—and Oosh wrinkled his nose with a semi-smothered giggle—Aydan definitely got the tail end of the runnerbeast, even if he did get to be a dragon, what with having to make herdbeast eyes at a girl and all. Oosh got to be all chomp and rawr and Romeoth, this shall not exercise the injuries / That Romeoth hast done Tybalsk; there four turn and rawr. (or something like that, Oosh hadn't really paid attention to learning lines he'd been much more focused on the fighting) and Romeoth had to go around comparing Akklyn's face to the moon. Her face wasn't really moon-like, in Oosh's opinion, so he didn't get it. It was probably mushy talk. All that mushy stuff. Mushy stuff never worked out. Oosh only had to look at his mum to know that. And did it work out here, either?
No.
Everybody died.
Which, Oosh thought privately, was kind of an awesome ending. Except Tybalsk died too. Which was lame. Oosh thought about it, having not given that much consideration prior to this moment, seconds before the second act started. No, he decided. Tybalsk was way too cool to die. Tybalsk wasn't going to die tonight.
A mischievous, wicked smile made its way from one corner of Oosh's lips to the other, but he quickly bit it back and lowered his lashes. The Harpers were way too quick to pick up on stuff like that and he didn't want them guessing what he was up to and tellin' him not to do it—Mum hadn't been paying much attention to him lately, and he was doing his best to make sure it stayed that way (even if thinking about it made his stomach kind of hurt) so she wouldn't remember to stuff him in the stupid creche for the next hatching, but by golly if a harper got back to her, she'd tan his hide and he'd have to deal with her drinking too much wine and screaming at him again and that...Oosh shoved it away with a stomp of his feet, as if the costume would muffle the sound in his head—nevermind it. He just didn't want to get into trouble before he actually got the chance to cause it.
ooc;; go, be merry! Pick a scene and play it, observe in the audience, fret backstage, whatever
