Nia
Sr. Weyrwoman
niact[M:-790]
Posts: 991
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Post by Nia on Apr 29, 2011 22:12:44 GMT -5
If home is where the heart is, Then my heart is lost at sea. And I, I have built my palace Where the sand and waters meet.
Opening her eyes, Avalle stared up at the ceiling; blinking a few times to shake the sleep from her. The skies were tinted red, the Rukbat hadn't even fully risen into the sky yet. She rubbed her eyes and rolled on to her side, staring at the empty darkness of her Weyr. Another day full of boredom and exhaustion. She'd been so tired, lately. Avalle was certain that was because of Callistath's upcoming flight, but she didn't remember feeling this tired in the last one. Maybe it had just been a while and she didn't remember. The brunette didn't exactly have the best memory. And lately she just didn't care to commit anything to memory. It was all so boring and she just didn't care!
But it wasn't exactly boredom, no. what she was feeling was probably more akin to apathy. Caring about anything was becoming more and more difficult for her. All she wanted to do was lay there, curled up in her furs, staring sideways at her glowing Gold dragon. The brunette Jr. Weyrwoman watched her dragon with narrowed eyes, just waiting for the Gold to open her eyes with the pink of lust swirling through them. Her next flight was long overdue, and Avalle was getting impatient. Just get it over with, already. She hated waiting. At least lately she hadn't bothered talking to anyone. It was a bother. People were starting to severly getting on her nerves, and people she used to get along with just weren't doing it anymore. It was time for a change.
And this flight was the perfect chance for that change.
Avalle rolled over, laying on her back and staring up at the ceiling of her weyr. Honestly, she wasn't worried. She'd been worried the first time, but now she was just bored with it. Worrying was stupid. What did she have to worry about? Callistath would fly, someone would catch. At this point, it didn't even matter who. Just someone, anyone to make some sort of stupid change. She put her hands over her eyes, willing herself not to think about certain topics. This was stupid. So, so stupid. She felt stupid just for thinking about it. I mean seriously, how stupid can you get?! The brunette moved her head to it's side, watching her sleeping gold dragon. Come on, Callistath. Any day now.
For being winter, the skies were actually fairly clear out. There were barely any clouds and the air was crisp. It wasn't warm, it definitely wasn't warm, but it was one of the better days. Avalle hated the cold. Winter was really the worst season and spring couldn't come fast enough. Cold was useless and stupid and boring. And stupid. Especially stupid. With an annoyed sigh at the thought of the cold weather, Avalle sat up, rubbing her hair in an attempt to fix the static created by the furs. She should probably actually get up, soon. It was early morning and the Rukbat had just barely risen in the sky. She had work to do today. Couldn't just lay in bed being apathetic all day. At least she had her work to distract her. With a yawn, she pushed the furs off herself.
Callistath's eyes snapped open. Good morni... oh, Avalle greeted her dragon only to stop halfway, noticing the sudden rush of emotions and the violent whirl in Callistath's eyes. Still somewhat half-asleep, Avalle pushed herself off her bed, standing shakily and trying to wake herself up. She needed all her self control, now. Since Callistath certainly didn't have any. The Gold stood slowly, unfurling her wings and taking off, stretching her wings to their full, impressive wingspan as she glided down to the herdbeasts. Stumbling over her feet, Avalle followed, still groggy and dazed by sleep but with a firm grasp of herself and her dragon. Mornings had never been her strong suit, unfortunately.
Callistath slammed into the first herdbeast, roaring violently as she tore the beast open.
BLOOD IT!
[/b] Avalle screamed, both in her mind and out loud, her vocal cords straining. Callistath gave an indignant roar. BLOOD THAT, RIGHT NOW! YOU'D BETTER SHARDING LISTEN TO ME, AND LISTEN TO ME NOW![/b] she continued, her voice raising in volume as she essentially rambled out curses at her dragon, trying to reign the gold down. Callistath seemed defiant, like she was about to tear into the herdbeast and eat it whole, but instead she drained it dry. She drained three more herdbeasts, tackling each of them down with increased force, roaring loudly, alerting the entire Weyr that it was her turn to fly, and her turn to own the skies. She snapped her wings open again elegantly, a display of just what a lady she was, even with blood smeared all over herself. Her suitors had better know just how to treat a lady. No rudeness was going to be allowed in her skies, today! Let them come! But if they dared to disrespect her she would make them regret it with every bone in their unrefined bodies. Open skies, freedom is beautiful Rain or shine, no matter where we go It'll be perfect cause it's so incredibly true. It'll be perfect cause it's so amazing with you.[/center][/blockquote][/size]
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Post by derek on Apr 30, 2011 9:02:13 GMT -5
S'bel and Maerath had settled in nicely to Weyr life at Dalibor. It was a lot different from Fort Weyr, but the bronzerider liked the difference. If you stuck with the same things for too long, they got to be boring. Dalibor was new and exciting, and he was meeting new people all the time! He had even met one of the Junior Weyrwomen the other day!
Leaning back in his chair (he was an early riser, so he could slip down to the Dining Hall and back with his hot klah and breakfast before the crowds came), S'bel stretched his arms, looking over at his dragon fondly. Maerath was dozing lightly, as was normal for him around this time. The dragon woke when S'bel did, but usually fell back asleep when he returned to the rooms.
Turning back to his breakfast, the man went back to thinking about life at Dalibor. He was a Wingsecond here, just as he had been back at Fort, so that was no different. It felt strange, almost surreal, to be under O'sho's command again. When they were younger (much younger, S'bel thought wryly to himself), O'sho had been Wingleader to his Wingsecond. The two had been friends for years before Dalibor came about and O'sho became Weyrleader while S'bel stayed on at Fort as a Wingsecond still.
He liked his position as Wingsecond, but it would be nice to have a promotion or something. After all, if you stuck with the same things too long, they got to be boring. S'bel had been a Wingsecond for years now, and it would be nice to have some sort of change. He just didn't know what kind. He had kind of expected to be a Wingleader here, since he had come as a favor for O'sho, but no. The iron-rider had gotten the position, and he was still a Wingsecond. He didn't mind-- honestly, he didn't --since he already knew the job, but still. Something new would be nice.
Taking a gulp from his klah, he sighed in contentment. That's what he was. Content. Not happy, not sad, just... content.
Mine. [/color] S'bel jumped, turning over his chair and shattering the mug of klah on the floor. Maerath was awake? Now? Why in Faranth's name would he be... oh. Well that made sense. Who was Rising, though? He had promised to chase and win that stupid green, but she wasn't due to rise! Not now, anyway! The only dragon he knew that was rising soon was... Callistath. The Gold. That, he decided, was why Maerath's eyes were swirling rapidly from purple to red and back again. The dragon moved, lumbering over to the edge of the weyr, where, with S'bel standing off to the side, they both had a view of the Gold Queen, hide brilliant in the cool morning sun, attacked herdbeast after herdbeast, draining them dry as her rider held her, not letting her eat, which would slow her flight. Instead, she tackled each herdbeast with a ferocity that would have been both shocking and terrifying, had S'bel not been a rider and not been exposed to Gold Queens before. Maerath opened his wings in preparation for taking off, and S'bel laid a hand on his hide. Be careful, his mind voice whispered. The bronze snorted, and lashed his tail. I am always careful. [/color] As the Gold blooded the last herdbeast, she roared loudly, probably waking half the Weyr, alerting them to her prescence and the fact that she was Rising in flight. Maerath inhaled deeply as she snapped her delicate wings open, and he too opened his wings all the way, with S'bel diving out of their range to avoid being smacked. The bronze bugled his advance and, claws digging into the stone of the weyr, pushed off. Gravity took hold, and he dropped, gliding for barely a second before his strong, powerful wings began to pump up and down, giving him the power of flight, which gave him the power to Chase, and the power to, quite possibly, win. Well, being Junior Weyrleader would certainly be a change, S'bel thought to himself. Stepping carefully over the shards of the broken klah mug, he padded out of his weyr, boots hardly making a sound as he descended stairs and crossed hallways until he was standing in the door-way of Avalle's personal weyr. The girl looked rather sleepy, he thought, but that would soon be gone. As soon as the Gold had more suitors, her rider would be filled with lust, just as S'bel could feel the feeling rising in his own body. Maerath bugled again, bronze body flashing through the air after the queen. Fair lady,[/color] He called to her, eyes swirling madly. Beautiful, golden Queen, you are magnificent, a lovely Golden lady.[/color][/size][/center][/blockquote]
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Post by theknightwhosaysni on Apr 30, 2011 11:07:24 GMT -5
You would have had to been oblivious to have missed the glow to Callistath's hide, and T'lar was anything but. Still, he didn't expect anything to be happening on this winter day, so like any sane person, he was asleep. T'lar had never been much of a morning guy, and was always one for sleeping whenever he could. Sleep was important. Sleep was always important, and it kept T'lar at the top of his ambitious game.
Oh, T'larMiiiiiiiiiine! [/i] Feeroneth sang out cheerily, lightly nudging His with his muzzle, You should wake uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuup![/i] The lavender colored dragon took on his favorite 'I have a good tidbit of gossip' tone. He did actually have something interesting to say, but it was going to have to wait until His was actually awake. It wasn't any fun to gossip about stuff when Yours wasn't listening, you know? "Mmmm..." Was Feeroneth's answer as T'lar tugged his furs up to cover his face, "Jussa few more minutes..." The purplerider slurred, burrowing under the furs, ignoring the occasional shock that he got from them. Feeroneth would have pouted if a dragon could. As it was, he huffed melodramatically and turned away, presenting His with his light purple tail. Not that His was paying any attention, but whatever. Feeroneth was going to sulk until His woke up and he could finally tell His the interesting tidbit of gossip that he found so entrancing. Obviously, His didn't want to hear it, but Fee would tell him anyways as soon as His got up. Miiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiine.[/i] Feeroneth whined pitifully, hoping for His to get up. "Whaaaaat...?" T'lar groaned, sitting up in bed. Did you hear, did you hear? Callistath is Rising! And I shall Chase, I think. She is very pretty in the morning light, and worthy of someone as lovely as meeee.[/i] Feeroneth chirped happily, sounding delightedly gossipy. Ooh, he loved an interesting tidbit of information! Like Callistath Rising, yep! And just like that, a roar split the air, seeming to shake the very foundation of the Weyr. You see, T'larMine? Isn't that an interesting bit of gossip?[/i] Feeroneth chirped happily, shaking himself out. His sulkiness had faded away in an instant, and the small purple looked quite delighted to have finally been allowed to announce his little bit of gossip to His. "Mm... Very interesting," T'lar muttered, still looking vaguely shell shocked. He definitely wasn't actually awake at the moment, and it took a long moment for what Fee was saying to actually sink in. Feeroneth was . . . trying to catch Callistath? "Wha--?" And T'lar snapped into wakefulness, fixing Feeroneth under his gaze. The purple wasn't going to try and Chase a green? This was going to have to go down in history! Feeroneth bugled happily, announcing himself loudly as he launched himself into the air. The pale purple beat his wings as he surged into the air. Callistath was already beginning to move, and another dragon was already chasing after her. Feeroneth hissed slightly at the sight of a bronze, annoyance darkening the red that swirled fiercely in his eyes. Callistath was beautiful, a lovely glowing shade of golden that called to him. She deserved someone as lovely as him, and not some ugly, unfashionable bronze. Feeroneth didn't like bronzes. He didn't know why, beyond the fact that they weren't half as fashionable as him. T'lar didn't move quickly enough. Despite his experience with the several greenflights that Feeroneth had participated in, this was completely different. The lust that Feeroneth felt was burning in his veins, surging into his mind and making it hard for T'lar to think straight. He knew unerringly where Avalle's weyr was, but it was hard to orient himself, to not stumble and fall as he hurriedly along. It felt like it took an eternity to reach Avalle's weyr, and when he reached it, T'lar leaned against the wall, using it to prop himself up as he stared at her. She was gorgeous. Everything that he had ever wanted wrapped up in a single, beautiful, package, T'lar decided with his last vestiges of true thought. His mind was fading, being dominated by Feeroneth. The purple's lust easily swamped T'lar's mind, drowning his thought processes until he was left with the idea that Avalle was beautiful and that he didn't like anyone who stood between them. Not very elaborate thought processes, for sure. Feeroneth's lust made thought very hard, and T'lar had never been one for working at things when other stuff came easily to him. Why should he try and think when he could just submit to the dragonlust and practically drool over the beauty that was Avalle? T'lar and Feeroneth were both very fixated on their prizes, completely united in their longing to win Avalle and Callistath. They wanted Callistath-Avalle. The beautiful goldpair deserved one (or two, really) as amazing as T'lar-Feeroneth.[/size][/blockquote]
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Post by kia on Apr 30, 2011 13:38:50 GMT -5
O`ris had heard the news from Rhyolith. Callistath was Rising finally. Rhyolith had been on the lookout since she had noticed the Gold glowing again. And when the Gold had left her weyr, Rhyolith knew it had to be time. So O`ris quickly left his papers, vowing to finish them later (even if he had to stay up a little later to do them), and ran down to Avalle`s weyr. It had been a bit since he had seen her due to the fact he had been re-made Wingsecond again. He was having to catch up on papers since the new promotion. But he was close to finishing. He was mostly caught up. But everyday more stuff would be added to the pile. But he had done all that he could for now. Now his focus was on Avalle and getting to her weyr. He loved her even if he did not say it often. But he hoped his actions would prove enough of his heart for her.
There were already suitors lined up at the door. And O`ris felt the jealousy of seeing them there. Avalle was not just someone to pursue. She was beautiful, amazing, and deserved much. And during Callistath first Flight, Avalle had held tight onto him and not wanted him to let go. And he hoped she still felt the same for him. Callistath was her Gold, and extension of herself, but Avalle was the one that O`ris loved. He cared for Callistath, regarded her as his Queen dragon, but it was Avalle he was always enamored by. Her beautiful brown hair, those eyes, her personality... it was a long list that he was citing as he walked slowly toward Avalle`s weyr. He eyed the other men, giving them scrutinizing looks, as he kept moving.
He came to her door. He had arrived at the beginning. But why would he miss any of this. He would be there for Avalle no matter what. He walked past the men and stood at the doorway, eyes looking and searching for that vision of glory. When he saw her, his features relaxed. Everything else melted away as he saw her there, already mentally done with telling Callistath to just blood the creature. He wanted to take Avalle in his arms and hold her, takie care of everything else for her so she could just mentally work with Callistath. But he would have to wait till she was okay with him touching her. So he stood there, a soft smile crept over his face, as he watched her. "Avalle," he whispered, speaking her name with reverence.
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Post by glee on May 4, 2011 13:42:09 GMT -5
C'tan woke up, a heavy feeling in his chest that made it hard for him to breathe. It was excitement? Callistath is flying. Majeth's stern voice woke him finally from his drowsiness and he sat upright, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. The Iron was incredibly tense, much different than he had been at the flight of that Green. Of course, this was his level, not some fun play but the opportunity to fulfill his duty as a king. And he wanted to win. "Hurry then.", he finally answered with a smile, "And don't embarass me." Majeth only snorted in response and took off immediately to go after the beautiful Queen rising from her blooded kill. Their hearts pounded in unison seeing her flawless golden hide gleam in the morning light. Such a rare and magnificent view! Majeth felt proud going after her.
C'tan went to Avalle's weyr quickly, driven by the flight lust embracing him. It was tough to retain his composure when Majeth was chasing a Queen because of the fierce determination he had. Usually C'tan kept fair control of himself and was able to distinguish his dragon's impressions from his own. Right now, as he saw the other men that already had entered the weyr, he felt the Iron's despise of them much like his own. He retreated himself to a corner, it was all he could do not spit out and tell them all to get lost or worse. He was stronger than them! More potent! Callistath would clutch the most eggs if she just chose him! That silly Purple was but a mouthful to him, he could break his neck like...! "Control your temper, be so kind.", he finally interrupted these thoughts, forcing some of his calm onto both of them again. "This is about flying, not fighting."
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RavenSong
Jr. Weyrleader
songct[M:-364]
Posts: 710
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Post by RavenSong on May 9, 2011 2:30:29 GMT -5
P'ryt woke earlier than usual, rubbing his eyes as he sat up. Hemetath was at their ledge, wings lifted slightly. P'ryt felt his Iron's will and desires before the query had fully formed in his mind. Callistath had risen, and Hemetath wished to Chase her and win.
Callistath flies. I'm chasing, the Iron said, deciding to voice what His already knew.
Go then, P'ryt said, I wish you the best.
I'm Hemetath, the Iron said simply. My best? Always given.
I know, love, P'ryt replied.
Hemetath leapt off the weyr ledge and took off, the light catching on his Iron hide. He gleamed in the early morning sun due to the care His showed him. Massive, powerful wings beat the air as he ascended the skies, pursuing Callistath. He remained absolutely silent as he streaked across the pale morning sky.
P'ryt hastily got dressed as Hemetath's mind bound more fully with his, as Hemetath's lust became his, as man and Iron became one. His booted feet hastily carried him to Avalle's weyr, where he gazed upon the rider of his dragon's intended. His breath caught in his throat as he realized just how beautiful Avalle was. Out in the air, Hemetath realized how beautiful Callistath was and crooned a greeting.
Callistath! Beautiful one! Greetings! the Iron called, settling into a position near the rear of the pack.
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Reky
Alphahandler
rekyct[M:-999]
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Posts: 1,554
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Post by Reky on May 13, 2011 8:31:54 GMT -5
There was, much to the distress of R'len's nerves, only a little over a Turn until the Interval ended and the Pass began. It was like some nasty Southern feline creeping up on him; it had one paw on his chest already and was pressing down, meaning to get all of its weight on him. He liked his job. He was good at his job. But when your job is, for the first time in the lives of every currently living person on Pern, actually to lead an entire wing to save the holders and crops below from death, it adds a whole other level to the burden. The wingleader had forced himself to do a lot of sleeping lately and to ease up on the perfectionism. He had actually been losing weight from stress.
And so R'len slept. His iron dragon, however, was awake and alert. Kaezeth was glad that His was sleeping, but he couldn't sleep himself. He was preoccupied. He didn't tend to wonder about too many things, but today, he wondered about that bloody sunrise sky and the glowing Queen who slept somewhere in her weyr. He remembered chasing her once before and losing. The repercussions involving Waroth, however, were only a dim memory which he ignored. He respected Waroth, but he did not care for her. He had given up on trying to apologize. The red let R'len near Nimara; that was all Kaezeth needed from her.
Then, suddenly, there was someone he needed more from. Callistath had burst from her weyr, gold hide shining like a beacon, crushing a herdbeast in one fell swoop. A shiver ran down Kaezeth's spine; he moved forward and clung to the edge of his weyr, hanging like a gargoyle. Just seeing her there, unfurling her wings with such grace, maw streaked with blood, lit a violent fire inside his chest. His eyes exploded red with lust. He raised his wings, ready, and then Callistath rose.
Kaezeth shoved off the weyrledge and rocketed after her. A primal scream came forth from him, raw and full of all the emotion he felt. It was a great deal of emotion. Instead of trying to make sense of it all, though, he simply accepted the overwhelming feeling and used it to spur himself onward. His aging wings were used to this. The vertical climb came second-nature. He almost didn't feel it at all.
R'len had shot up in bed. Shard it! His heart was pounding in his chest and his mind was swimming, but it only took a few moments for him to figure out what was going on. He saw a golden dragon in his vision, rather than seeing the wall of his bedroom like he should have. He blinked and returned to the ground world. Shards. It was Callistath. Kaezeth was chasing Callistath. Kaezeth had not bothered to ask permission to chase and had not waited around for encouragement, for their bond was strong and the rider had complete faith in the dragon, but R'len still worried. Immediately, he felt sick, remembering the last time this happened. Waroth had been so angry... but now, Waroth had no claim to Kaezeth. The worry now was what would happen if Kaezeth were to win. If, by some chance, the young gold picked the old brute, R'len would be the new junior weyrleader. He could do it. There was no doubt that he could, but... oh, shards, he shouldn't think about it right now. Stumbling in between flashes of his vision and Kaezeth's, the man made his way to Avalle's ground level weyr. There, he swayed on his feet, and became Kaezeth.
The iron roared again. A bronze, a purple, and two other irons followed with him, but his bugles were not for them. He had no desire to antagonize the other suitors; the only way to win was to push himself forward, and that was all he did. He did not bother Callistath with petty compliments; she had other things to focus on, and his trumpets spoke for him. He revered Callistath. She was not just some pretty young thing - she was a Queen, and that made all the difference.
So Kaezeth flew. He flew out of respect, out of duty, out of love and lust. He was a King to match a Queen. He had been born for this, and he would not give up. [/blockquote]
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Nia
Sr. Weyrwoman
niact[M:-790]
Posts: 991
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Post by Nia on May 13, 2011 16:58:04 GMT -5
Callistath waited, her wings flexing with the urge to fly far, far away from these suitors and their rude comments. She lashed her tail back and forth, waiting for just the right moment to take off into the sky. Their words metaphorically went in one of the Gold's ears and out the other. She didn't care for their frivolous comments. She just wanted them to stay quiet! That was how you respected a lady. No compliments that meant nothing, but silence. Or at least, that was all Callistath wanted now. She eyed her suitors, flexing her wings once, straight out, and leaping into the sky. She glided low to the ground for a moment, scattering the herdbeasts, before she angled herself upwards, flying straight into the blinding light of the morning Rukbat.
In her Weyr, Avalle was aware of the suitors Riders arrive, as well as O'ris. But she didn't look at him. Him being there felt off, like something was wrong. Change, she repeated in her mind, and wrung her hands together in a sort of worry. There were quite a few people in here. She was just distracted by Callistath. She breathed in and out a few times and then let her mind become one with Callistath's. It would all work out in the end. She knew it would, and she knew Callistath would make the right choice. She trusted her dragon. She didn't exactly trust a majority of the idiots in her weyr right now, but she'd trust the Gold to pick the best of them. The brunette closed her eyes, allowing her mind to merge fully with the Gold. Whatever. She'd figure it out later.
Continuing on, Callistath continued to fly as high as she could, angling herself upwards and not even glancing back to make sure the suitors were still following. She didn't care about them, all she cared about was getting higher and higher until she couldn't fly anymore. She eventually reached a satisfactory height and leveled herself out, only then even giving a slight, aloof glance back at her suitors, making sure they knew she was still watching. She didn't need to impress them. She was a lady, that should be good enough for them. It was their job to impress her! The Queen picked up her speed, moving from a lazy, relaxing glide into a fast dash through the sky. The Weyr was long behind them, and the Gold continued to pick up her speed.
After a moment of fast flying, Callistath let herself drop, speeding towards the ground. It was an angled drop, it wasn't a flat drop. Moments before the ground she widdened her wings, catching the air and moving back upwards in a graceful arch. She sped up again, allowing herself some graceful spins and twirls. Nothing too flashy, but just the Gold enjoying her freedom in the sky. An audience was nice, but not necessary. She just wanted to fly and twirl and move through the sky like the graceful lady she was, and show them exactly what they must do to win her affections. They needed grace and poise! If they didn't have it there was no way they were going to win her.
She continued on, sometimes flying higher, sometimes flying lower. The skies were all hers this morning, no one was going to tell her otherwise. [/size]
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Reky
Alphahandler
rekyct[M:-999]
SO PRO
Posts: 1,554
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Post by Reky on May 17, 2011 18:40:45 GMT -5
The upward angle was taxing. Even after doing it so many times before, chasing Waroth and Callistath previously and countless queens at High Reaches, Kaezeth was feeling its effects. His muscles, eventually, did not feel like a well-oiled machine. Instead of the euphoric numbness he had experience before, he suddenly felt like a being of flesh again. He gritted his teeth; there was no time for complaining. He may have slipped off his initial high, but he was still in this to win it. Dropping out or showing weakness was akin to the highest account of disrespect towards the beautiful gold. Without a sound save for his hard breath, Kaezeth pushed after her.
By the time she dropped downward, Kaezeth was feeling the slightest bit of pain in his shoulder muscles from the awkward angle. Leveling out was a great relief, especially coupled with the leisurely pace that Callistath took. It gave his wings a chance to gain a second wind, and gave his eyes time to gaze upon her. The graceful movements of her body enraptured him. He himself was not nearly as beautiful; his body was meant to be strong and solid. He was built to last, and as Callistath sped up, Kaezeth followed without a thought.
Then they dropped. The great iron went tense like an arrow, the only way to keep straight at such an incline. If he faltered, his wings would catch air without him being ready and the fine bones would snap. He knew his limits, and this allowed him to push himself as far as he needed to go without injury. He had plenty of reason to push. Reason to Chase.
Kaezeth loved Dalibor. He loved that R'len had found someone to care about here, he loved the change of seasons. Rarely did he find himself missing High Reaches; he thought little of it. Everything was about Dalibor. And whether it had been from his devotion to the weyr or simply the instinctive desire, Kaezeth found himself wanting Callistath more than anything. She was a Queen of Dalibor. With her, he could prove his worth and protect his Weyr. He was a King, after all, and Kings were meant to protect.
R'len was loaded with the same feeling of pride. He stood up straighter now, his legs finding a more solid strength to stand. In Avalle, he saw the same chance as Kaezeth did in Callistath. Deeper than the lust, he felt he could work with her. With Fajra and O'sho and Rayna. Kalith, Daidoroth, and Couineth. Patriotism swelled in his chest. Then, all at once, he remembered that this was a game. His dragon eyes saw Callistath arc upward. A game of chance.
Kaezeth's body was not a lady's. Callistath was the only lady here and the only lady in the entire Weyr. Her grace was unmatched, but the iron set his face in a determined line, jaw locked. He could at least try. His wings snapped open just in time, held in place by trained muscles, and he pushed himself upward. The movement did not seem effortless - instead, it was forcibly powerful. He could not mimic Callistath, and even if he could, he would not have. It would be a crime to attempt to mirror such beauty when it was impossible. He meant to impress her, yes, but not with something he could not do. He was an embodiment of strength. He was an iron, his muscles as strong as the metal they were named for. The beauty could be left to Callistath; the power of protection could be left to him.
Or, he thought briefly, to any of the other males chasing. To any of the three foreign Kings, to the purple. But Kaezeth's mind and body ached with lust. He wanted Callistath so much. He wanted to be the one to be chosen by such a fine lady, and the thought of another male winning was something he couldn't afford to dwell on, so he didn't. Instead, he dwelled on Callistath. He pushed after her and allowed her to entrance him with her grace. [/blockquote]
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Post by theknightwhosaysni on May 17, 2011 21:45:46 GMT -5
T'lar glanced towards the other Chasers for a moment, spurred into glancing away from Avalle for a moment by someone's arrival. Was it O'ris? Or R'len? Their names were misty memories in his mind and the features of the newest arrival blurred out of existence as T'lar turned back towards Avalle, shrugging. He couldn't chase for Avalle as Feeroneth Chased Callistath, but silent yearning was enough for T'lar. He truly did hope to win Avalle on that winter day and it wasn't tempered by ambition. Or maybe it was. T'lar couldn't tell, and it certainly was not the time for introspection, not with someone as radiant as Avalle just out of his reach.
The wall still supported T'lar as he slid down a bit under the heady rush of the lust that was accompanying his first Queenflight, but T'lar refused to let it stop him from gazing hungrily at Avalle, wanting her with every fiber of his being.
Meanwhile, Feeroneth was passive in his own way as he chased after Callistath. She flew straight up, surging into the blinding light of Rukbat's rays and Feeroneth chased after her. That was all he was good for: chasing. Until she chose him (and she would, wouldn't she? He was Feeroneth, and while he was admittedly small for a purple, he was the most fashionable dragon out there!), all Feeroneth could do was chase. He eyed the other suitors in passing as they followed Callistath. They were Irons and Bronzes, more powerful Kings than Feeroneth could ever be. But that didn't count for anything, did it? Because Feeroneth was amazing and he was fashionable and he was everything that Callistath needed, right?
Of course, being so insecure was foolish. He would never win if he questioned himself. Feeroneth could have been the dragon who simply pushed his thoughts away and chased, but Feeroneth had never done that in his memory and would never do that in his conceivable idea of the future - not that that meant much. Still, what he could do was focus every ounce of his thoughts on Callistath, on her beauty. She was the kind of beauty that he gossiped about, would gossip about once this Flight was over.
The flying upwards was making his wing muscles burn, a distant part of Feeroneth's mind thought, the part of his mind that was still allowed to recognize weakness. But he kept chasing, even though he was beginning to fall back and behind the other Kings, who were built to endure and to simply keep going. Feeroneth was going to do his best to keep going like the Kings were, to prove to Callistath that he was far more amazing than the foolish Kings who chased her. That didn't stop him from being grateful, though, when Callistath leveled out, and the purple managed a breathless croon when she glanced back at her suitors, taking full advantage of the slower pace that the Queen had taken after her flight had begun to level out.
When she picked up her pace, shooting forward into a dash across the skies, Feeroneth took a deep breath, filling his massive lungs with air before he shot forward, beating his wings laboriously to carry him along behind Callistath. He was lagging, slipping behind the other suitors, but Feeroneth refused to give up. Not yet! Not while she didn't recognize that he, Feeroneth, was the single most amazing dragon for her. Someone of her beauty deserved someone like him, someone fashionable, someone who could accentuate her beauty. She needed to recognize that before Feeroneth dared let her other suitors beat him!
When the drop came, Feeroneth was unprepared, noticing the golden queen fall from his line of vision with a startled snort, costing him precious seconds that he couldn't afford to lose before Feeroneth finally dove as well, gaze focused on the ground as he gauged when he would be forced to snap his wings open to avoid crashing into the earth. His wings snapped open earlier than Kaezeth's and Callistath's. Feeroneth wasn't much of a dare devil, and he intended to be careful with himself for this Flight at least. The ground looked like it would be painful if he hit it at this speed, and that was enough for Feeroneth's wings to snap open and slow his fall dramatically. It hurt his shoulder muscles to no end, but at least Feeroneth hadn't dashed himself to his death on the cold, hard ground.
The purple focused on Callistath again, however, the moment that she began to dip and twirl, and he watched her intently, almost forgetting to fly. Luckily for Feeroneth, his wings were still beating, following his instincts more than his conscious mind, as Feeroneth was completely focused on Callistath. All he wanted was her. She was beautiful, completely and utterly so. And he wanted her. Of course, he might have stood a better chance at impressing her if he wasn't far too tired to do anything beyond follow. So, like a dog, Feeroneth followed loyally after Callistath, desperately hoping that she would realize how amazing he was before he completely ran out of energy. Which was going to happen soon, at this rate. [/blockquote]
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Nia
Sr. Weyrwoman
niact[M:-790]
Posts: 991
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Post by Nia on May 19, 2011 0:01:28 GMT -5
It was a long flight. Longer than Callistath's last one. But she kept on, even as more and more of the suitors dropped out. That was fine. She wanted this to count. For Avalle, and for herself. Valleth hadn't flown? Fine. She was clearly too much of a lady for him to handle. She was going to make them work for this. If they wanted her, they'd keep trying. The dropouts didn't bother her in the slightest. If they couldn't keep up that was their loss. She kept flying, her speed dropping as Callistath herself grew exhausted. But she wasn't going to let this end that easily. Oh no, she still had some strength left in her. She knew her limits, and she certainly hadn't reached it yet.
She made a few sharp turns, and finally decided to turn back and watch the two suitors that had bothered to stay. While a majority of the dragons chasing her had barely deserved her attention, these two were different. They'd stayed. An Iron, and surprisingly, a young Purple had stayed. She watched them fly after her for a moment before turning back and speeding up, one last dash before she finally picked. She swayed in the air as her pace slowed. The gold knew she couldn't go much further, and she didn't want to kill her suitors. Now she just had to chose.
The Purple was young. Younger than her, although not really that much, not that it mattered. He was resilient for such a young dragon, and he wasn't even a King! Not that she particularly cared about Kings or not. Kings chased Queens, but so could sub-kings. Besides, he'd lasted longer than most of the Irons in her flight. So he had earned quite a bit of her respect for that. She was gliding through the skies now at an easier pace, hinting that she was slowing down. She hadn't quite made up her mind, but there wasn't much the two remaining suitors could do to affect her choice. Now it was all up to her.
The Iron was old. Young vs. old, then? Not that it mattered. For a dragon of his age he was doing very well. She'd noticed he hadn't attempted to imitate her, but rather acted on his own to show her he was capable of something as well. That was nice, actually. A very respectful approach rather than the "anything you can do, I can do better!" attempt that some Kings tried. Arrogant beasts. They weren't suitable for a lady like her.
Finally, after circling around for a bit, she'd made up her mind. She flipped over in a graceful arch, changing her direction and looping between the two remaining dragons. She circled around them for a bit, before giving a short, ladylike croon to the young Purple. He had flown well. Exceptionally well. But she had to pick one, and she hadn't picked him. Callistath entwined herself with Kaezeth, allowing him to support the two of them as they fell together.
Back in her Weyr, Avalle hesitated. She gave a quick, almost apologetic glance to O'ris before completely losing herself and rushing over to R'len. This was what she wanted, right?
Well, it didn't matter now. [/size]
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