Downpour (Open)

[Kila]

Autumn, 6th Turn, 11th Pass

It was raining. Still.
As it had yesterday. And the day before that.
And the day before that.

Sol lay sprawled across Eccolath's couch, encircled by her beautiful
Cyan dragon. Her lifemate's warmth and color were the only things
keeping her sane at this point. The past sevenday had been a blur. It
had started raining (however many days ago- she couldn't remember) and
had never stopped. At times it rained softly, playing quietly against
the wall of her weyr and lulling her to sleep. At other times it poured,
and the sound was so pervasive and deafening that there was no way to
escape it. It drowned out all other things and cut Sol off completely
from the world outside her weyr. She felt trapped. One day there had
been a brief storm of lightning, lasting only an hour or two, but even
the bright and furious flashes had been a warm welcome from the
monotonous black and gray. Blue was her favorite color and Sol had tried
to at least appreciate its stormy presence in the sky, but it was no
use. The repetitious monotony was stupefying.

But it was more than that. Winter is coming. Somehow summer was
already over and Autumn had begun its unavoidable march towards shorter
days and even colder nights. Sol hated the cold; she was a creature of
sunshine through and through. Each day that she was trapped inside was
another warm day wasted and another day farther away from summer. Rubkat
was up there, hidden by the clouds, but out of her reach.

I think I am going to die in here, she said feebly to Eccolath as
she stared up at the ceiling and listened to the rain assault the great
stone cliffs around her. Her thought was almost consumed by the sound.
She was being dramatic of course; she had left several times, at least
once a day, to go get food and once to take a bath out of boredom.
It's not so bad, Mine, said Eccolath, who
was bored but still positive. Lost inside her daydreams the Cyan could
entertain herself indefinitely. No, really, Sol groaned, rolling
over onto her stomach so that she lay face down on the stone. Her hair
covered her back and shoulders like a furry blanket, frizzy and askew
from the humidity. I need the sun. I can't live without it. She
was ready to hop on Eccolath and between to one of the
southern-most ring islands where the weather was always tropical. If she
did that though she was afraid she would never come back. She could not
take any more rain. Sol knew she was being uncharacteristically
melodramatic, but she was way past caring.

Eccolath stood and rolled her rider back over onto her back with her
snout. Is there no sunshine in your mind,
Mine? she chastised her. Sol did not even have the spirit to
roll her eyes. Alright then. Eccolath gave
her a firm headbutt that sent her rolling off the couch. "What the
shells, Eccolath!?" Sol exclaimed. She had hit the floor hard and it
had raised her from her stupor. Go do
something, Eccolath ordered her sagely, stretching out so that
she took up all the room on the couch. Sol huffed and made a show of
being wounded, but she knew it was good advice. Getting out of their
weyr for a while would help preserve her sanity for a little longer.

She wound up in the dining hall, wet but no worse for the wear. The
fires were burning cheerfully here and there were people milling about
even though it was between mealtimes. The drudges had put out steaming
pots of klah and even some snacks for the large amount of loiterers.
Better? Eccolath asked, already knowing the
answer. Yes, Sol admitted. And there are plenty of people here
who are not letting the weather get to them, so I'm in good company.
The smell of klah lured her over to the pots and she filled a mug gladly
before drifting over to one of the fires. It couldn't rain
forever.

[RhiaBlack]

N'tharon was bored. Terribly bored, horrendously bored, and not even the Seek and Find games with Acetone and Sintharith had proven something worthy of occupying his time. His hands were idle, which made working his craft almost hopeless. The Black firelizard had compelled him to eat; Acetone's appetite was voracious at times, and N'tharon didn't doubt that perhaps the Black was picking up an increase in chasing to compensate.

It would be his luck. Let alone explain both his restlessness and...other things.

The thoughts were crowded away by irritation to the back of his mind. Buried beneath patterns for new molds, designs for new pieces of jewelry to sell at coming Gathers, desires to get just a day or two away from the fires of his Forges in favor of the beach, before Winter buried everything in snow and ice.

He loathed the cold in some ways, loved it in others, but the latter for reasons that were a little harder to obtain during Threadfall. Such was life. He'd accepted that long before now, and it was another thought that try as he might, he just couldn't bury this one.

We will be more than warm enough in the Lower Caverns, if it is too cold in the weyr, MineOwn.
I know. Doesn't mean I want to sleep down there, now does it.
You have a bed, don't you?

N'tharon wanted to quip back something about it taking longer to warm with only one person in it, but it felt poor taste among so many around him. He wasn't particularly fond of crowded places, but there were reassurances to be had with a weyrmate. Not that he was inclined nor cared to look for one. He could feel Sintharith's thoughts push at him, the Dragon's learned sarcasm from His now words that Nel had to eat. Lots of salt. Might help with the taste.

Grumbling mutely to himself and partially to Sintharith, he migrated over to a pair of snacktrays, one of meatrolls, one of sweetrolls. Equal amounts of both were snagged, before he filled a mug with Klah and carted himself over to a bench to sit. Acetone didn't have the benefit of hiding - N'tharon's hair was pulled into a haphazard gather that couldn't even be called either a bun or a runnertail behind his head. It was high enough off the nape of his neck to let Acetone's lithe little foot-long form drape across it, and once His had settled down, the Black flit crawled from his attempt to mimic a scarf to settle on N'tharon's shoulder. Soon figuring out that the Blackrider wasn't going to hand things up to him, he slinked down N'tharon's massive black-sleeved bicep to settle onto the table beside His' plate.

Meatroll pieces were broken off, and handed to the Black as Nel's dark eyes canvassed the room. It stood to reason that the rain was probably responsible, too. A large part of him hoped nobody would come to chat, but the rest of him kind of hoped someone would. Anyone. Gender didn't matter. He just wanted someone to talk to, at this point, a conversation was ten times better than the constant drone of rain. He'd slept more the last sevenday than he had his entire life.

Sintharith pressed his thoughts with a 'maybe-' that was quickly cut off where it lingered, and N'tharon sipped his Klah as another piece of meatroll was offered to Acetone.

[Kila]

As was customary when Sol entered the Dining Hall, Lulz appeared
immediately and began to troll for food. The Pink appeared with a
labored pop and scrambled up Sol's arm to perch precariously on
her shoulder. "Right on time," Sol said with a small smile,
raising a hand to pet her firelizard. Lulz was a glutton and a pain, but
she had kept Sol company all week during the rain and made her laugh.
Lulz pulled away so she could examine her human's hand closely for food
and let out a disappointed cluck when she found nothing. "I don't
have any food," Sol told her, but she proceeded to scramble all
around her and check every fold and pocket.

"You'll tear my clothes, Lulz," she sighed, looping her fingers
around the handle of her mug and hoisting her pet into her arms. Hally,
her other flitter, could crawl about her easily. Where Lulz was fat and
clumbsy the Black was light and graceful. He hated crowds and loud
noises though, so she doubted her would be joining them. Her Pink
complained loudly, trying to escape Sol's hold and regain her feet, but
her human held her like a baby, fat stomach protruding into the air, and
she could not flip herself over to freedom. You wanted me to have
firelizards, she said to Eccolath, hoping that her lifemate could
see the fat, garbling creature she held. She does
make the strangest noises, the Cyan contributed, taking no
responsibility and sounding extremely amused.

From her upside-down vantage point Lulz spied food nearby. She stopped
her struggling and stared at the meatroll in N'tharon's hands while Sol
jousted mentally with Eccolath. She screeched when the man's own
firelizard ate it, but he had more. She could sense it. She waited in
practical paralysis for the food to reappear, a long string of drool
growing slowly from her partially opened jaws. When N'tharon finally
picked up the second roll what seemed like turns later, she gave a
mighty squirm and betweened from where she was stuck. Sol looked
up in surprise just in time to see Lulz blink back into existence on
N'tharon's chest. She screamed at both Acetone and his human before
snatching the meatroll from his fingers. "Lulz!" Sol cried in
horror. Putting down her klah on the nearest table, she rushed over to
pry the creature off of him.

Anticipating retaliation, Lulz gobbled down the food and then launched
herself off of his chest, barreling into Sol. "Oof." The Cyan
Rider caught her mid-air. "What is wrong with you?!" she demanded
of the happy butterball in her grasp. Lulz burbled with satisfaction,
unphased by the scolding. Sol gave an exasperated sigh and then walked
the rest of the way over to N'tharon, tucking Lulz under one arm. She
had seen him before and even thought she knew his name, but they had not
spoken explicitly before. Some first impression. "I am SO
sorry," she apologized, mortified (but not surprised) by her
flitter's behavior. "She didn't hurt you did she? She just can't
contain herself around food- sharding bottomless pit." Hopefully he
wouldn't be too upset. The ravenous Pink had gotten her into trouble
before and had come close to biting off fingers. Embarassed and
contrite, Sol waited beside him, dwarfed in comparison.

[RhiaBlack]

((I am laughing so hard XD))

There was sudden shock from the just-as-sudden appearance of the Pink, N'tharon's near-shouted "SHARDS!" as Acetone promptly fell off the table and scrambled under the chair with a shriek. It took him a moment to fully realize what the shells had just happened - but when he did, the Blackrider's laugh was loud and honest.

N'tharon didn't laugh often, and some would have said it was a shame. He had a deep-chested manner of it that was as rich as Klah, and his eyes lit up in humor as the Pink abruptly fled towards Hers. Acetone cheeped meekly from beneath Nel's chair, trilling pitifully in protest at being startled so abruptly. Stop laughing Mine! It's not funny! Oh ho ho, but N'tharon certainly thought it was!

The Black flitter cheeped again, and N'tharon slid a hand down under his chair with a lean. Acetone swatted at His' fingers, pouting resentfully, before N'tharon snapped his fingers and opened his palm. Acetone sighed, and scampered over to grab hold of His' wrist. N'tharon pulled his arm back up, as his Black scaled the length of his forearm, up his elbow, and up his bicep to sit on the Blackrider's shoulder and trill sharply at the Pink. That wasn't nice! That wasn't nice at all! N'tharon reached over and grabbed hold of Acetone's snout to silence the Black's retributive scolding, before he took a sip of his Klah and held another piece of meatroll between his fingers. Acetone wasted no time hopping down N'tharon's chest, and to the tabletop. The offered food was pilfered and devoured, and he peered up at His for more.

"She's quite all right. She didn't hurt me, just startled me a bit. Mine gets like that some days, too. That being said, I've got plenty here, if she wants more. Acetone has no problem sharing, much as he tries to say otherwise."

N'tharon cocked his head slightly towards the empty seat near him.

"Neither do I, most days. N'tharon of Black Sintharith. I think I've seen you before, but forgive me, I can't remember ever hearing your name."

Acetone grabbed a half of another meatroll, and shredded it properly into two quarters, before sticking his own to hold in his mouth. The other clasped between his paws, he slinked over towards Sol, and sat on his haunches to offer it up. To her or to Lulz, it wasn't certain, but either one was welcome to take it all the same.

"Rain driven you into socialization as well, then?"

Dark eyes ran across her frame, more for the sake of familiarizing himself with her - yes, he had certainly seen her before, simply hadn't gotten the chance to snag her name. This would do for conversation, for certain. Those same pools of black peered back towards her face, then to the Pink in her hold. By the First Egg, she certainly did enjoy food. It made N'tharon wonder, but he kept whatever commentary it might have coaxed firmly held behind his lips. Ones that curled in a small smirk all the same.

You might even enjoy yourself, MineOwn, who knows.
Don't you start.

[Kila]

N'tharon's burst of laughter startled Sol as much as Lulz had
startled him. It was a big-bellied laugh, one that came from the very
tips of his toes and filled his whole body. The laughter even touched
his eyes and crinkled his brow, marking it as genuine. Sol could not
help but smile herself, defenseless against the power of the sound. It
was pleasant to hear and made her take an immediate liking to the man
that her firelizard had just accosted. With the smile came a wave of
relief: he was not angry about Lulz.

"Thank Farnath," she said when he reported that he was uninjured.
She grabbed her hastily abandoned mug of klah and took the seat next to
his graciously. She deposited Lulz on the tabletop and caught the Pink's
maw between her forefingers before she could scurry off. Behave
yourself, she ordered sternly, making her pet look her in the eyes
as she said it. Lulz warbled piteously and struggled until Sol let her
free."She's incorrigible," Sol sighed as Lulz scurried over to
Acetone. She eyed the proffered piece of meatroll hungrily, and under
her human's strict observation took the morsel without biting off any
part of the generous Black.

"I could say the same of you. Funny how there are so many people in
the Weyr that you see but never talk to. I'm Sol, of Cyan Eccolath. And
you've already met Lulz." She flashed him a brilliant smile, this
one of her own accord. She was never short on those. "Nice to finally
meet you. It was the weather that brought me here actually,"
she said with a laugh that was almost bashful. "I was losing my mind
being cooped up in my weyr. I thrive off of sunshine, so this past
sevenday had been a little rough for me." It seemed silly to admit,
but she was sun-starved. "Rubkat is playing with my heart," she
joked. "You too then, I assume? I hope you've at least been passing
the time more productively than I have. Are you just a Rider or a
Crafter as well?" There were many such people in the Weyr and Sol
sometimes envied them. She had loathed her parents' crafts, so
dragonriding was her one and only specialty.

[RhiaBlack]

The sudden spook and the antics of the pair of Flits had put N'tharon in a remarkably better mood. Nevertheless, having a gorgeous woman to speak with - and a Rider as well - made it all the better. He had to admit, however, that it was the smile that sorted him proper. He couldn't help but return it. It was infectious.

He watched her handle Lulz with a measure of amusement. So he wasn't the only one to be stern with his Black. He noticed a lack of strictness as far as most Firelizards were concerned, at least with most of the Weyr. It seemed the little beasts got away with everything, and more than often Acetone had shown a marked display of indignant disapproval at His' firm demands that the Black be well-behaved. There were only a handful he had ever seen to have the same mentality as far as the smaller Dragonkin were concerned.

"He has his days, too. More often than not, I think he's chasing more and not telling me. He tends to be a handful when he turns arrogant. Shy, but when he's in the mood for it, he's a sharding pain in the tail." He muttered with a grumble, to which Acetone collectively ignored him. The Black was still pissed about being laughed at.

"I tend to lurk in the Lower Caverns, so most never see me. Between Threadfighting and my work down there, I'm a bit of a hermit. Come up for air every once in a while, but usually there's not that many people in here. The occasional Wherhandler, maybe a few late-candlemark or insomniac Riders, Drudges, all that."

He sipped his Klah, nudging the plate with remaining meat and sweetrolls between the pair of them. Acetone finished off his piece, and peered acutely up towards His. N'tharon nodded slightly, and Acetone retrieved another half a meatroll, which was split between himself and Lulz. Small bites, miss Pink. Big bites are not proper for a lady, now. Don't offend Yours with bad manners! Acetone knew what that grasp to the nose was for. He'd been on the receiving end of the same more times than he could count.

"Rain is nice and all, but seeing enough of it outside tends to make it happen inside, as well. I don't mind it, I'm inside a lot anyway, but it would be nice to get out and find some stones and such for my crafts before the weather gets too cold and it snows." He sighed, almost forlornly. "I'm a Journeyman Smith, so most of what isn't taken up by Threadfighting, Drills, and Patrols is spent working for the Weyr. I jewelrycraft, too, but less of that these days. Busier candlemarks with fixing things. People seem to think I apparently don't have enough to do around here, how often I get repair requests for things. Weyrbrats are horrible, I should hope to never have any. Though I'm sure I do somewhere or another, who knows."

Way to stick your foot in your mouth, Nel. He looked momentarily distracted; Sintharith voicing his disapproval, before N'tharon cleared his throat.

"I should probably stand corrected. There is nothing wrong with Weyrbrats, I'm just not overly comfortable around children period. Rather dangerous to have them around a Forge, and with the string of strange happenings around here, I don't like chancing anything. At the rate Sintharith chases everything, it's all I can do to make sure I don't end up a father. Do you have any crafts of your own?"

[Kila]

Sol put her elbows on the table and rested her chin in her
hands, watching Lulz and Acetone while she listened to N'tharon talk
about firelizards. "It's nice to know I'm not the only one with a
hand full. My other flitter Hally is so good that sometimes Lulz seems
extra bad just by comparison. Acetone doesn't seem arrogant at all
though." She unfolded a hand and reached out to rub the little Black
under his chin, cooing to him out of habit. He and Hally looked
remarkably similar. "Just startled right? I'd be scared by that mean
old Pink if I were your size too." She grinned, imagining how
horrific it would be if Lulz was human or dragon sized. Back in their
weyr Eccolath burst into laughter. "You must have trained him very
well then."

"A Smith?" she asked with interest. Smithing was a far less
popular craft than say Harping or Weaving. Consequentially, there
weren't as many Smiths floating around. She knew little about the craft
so she was eager to hear what he had to say on the subject. When he went
on further to specify jewelrycrafting Sol stopped playing with the
flitters and turned towards him. "Wow, is that very specialized? I've
never known anyone to make jewelry before, just sell it at Holds and
Gathers. And Dalibor has all the space and materials you need to do it?
That's amazing," she marveled, giving him her undivided attention.
"I wish I could just go pick something up and turn it into
something." While she admired jewelry she had little herself and
wore it only on special occasions. Her friend Rosasharn had loved it
though and would have been all over N'tharon had she known his
occupation. Obnoxious as she had been, Sol missed her. She would not
have been alone all week if Rosasharn was still around.

"Fixing things doesn't seem like it would be nearly as interesting as
creating them, but it's nice that you can do both. It's a good feeling
to know you have someone to rely on when things like that happen. Don't
worry," she said, raising a hand to stave off any assumptions, "I
won't start bringing my riding gear to you too when the rings
break." Her eyes sparkled with unsaid laughter. She was joking with
him. It felt good to be silly after being pent up and miserable for so
long. It came to her too easily at times and her friendliness was often
misconstrued as flirting.

She had to turn her attention back to the table when she felt Lulz poise
to strike. Acetone was willing to share a second piece of food and in
her excitement/ with Sol distracted Lulz was about to snatch it, and
maybe the Black's piece too. Sol grabbed her tail and pulled so that her
teeth snapped shut on air. "You won't get any if you act like
that," Sol scolded her. She took the piece from Acetone and gave it
to Lulz so that he would not have to face the peril of being the feeder.
She glanced back at N'tahron, rolled her eyes and shrugged.
"Incorrigible."

"I don't have any crafts or children," she continued gracefully.
N'tharon was safe there. "I'm a professional Rider, true and blue.
I've been at Dalibor since Kalith and Daidoroth's first clutch." Sol
had lived through all of Dalibor's traumatic history and was one of the
few people remaining who had seen the "string of strange happenings" in
person. It was not necessarily a good thing, but it was something that
distinguished her. "I was a little brat then too." Not young
enough to be a weyrbrat, but her teens seemed like ages ago. "I can't
argue that kids are a pain, and I certainly wouldn't want one in a
forge, but they're not all bad. I have three younger siblings so I guess
I'm used to them." Sol thought she might want one of her own one
day, but she left that unsaid. It wasn't as easy being a mom in a Weyr
as it was in a Hold. "So you're saying there are little N'tharon's
all over Pern? If you don't want them you'd better take care they don't
find you then. Dalibor is a pretty good place to hide. Are you a
transfer then?" From the way he was talking about flights and
weyrbrats she thought that he was.

[RhiaBlack]

N'tharon's lips pulled into a further smile at the mention of Sol's second Firelizard, as Acetone crooned pitifully at the woman with a lean into her scratching fingers. Someone was won over. N'tharon raised his brow at his Black, and sighed.

"Such a sharding suck up, that one. I try, there's times he still does his own thing no matter how much I press him otherwise. Seems to behave well enough, regardless. I know I can trust him on his own without having to constantly be there to make sure he stays out of things. We've a small copper ball we take turns hiding around the Weyr, two of them now. I suspect someone pilfered the other, or Sintharith hid it so well I haven't found it yet. He - Sintharith - says that it's to encourage me not to be an insufferable shut-in."

Acetone cheeped at Sol, before slinking his way around Lulz and coiling his lithe little form into a headnudge to the Pink's shoulder. Very much cat-like, he rubbed his head and shoulder against her affectionately. Hers was -nice-! So was she! He liked pleasant company, and even though Lulz had snapped at him, clearly it was for the sake of food. He curled his long little tail around himself, and sat proper down beside Lulz and Sol. N'tharon eyed him warningly, though nothing was said. Acetone looked indignant. Surely these wonderful ladies would not laugh at him for being frightened. His little tongue stuck out, and Nel chuckled with a shake of his head.

"Not always, I tend to have to go elsewhere sometimes to find specific types of Ore. Blessings of being a Rider, I suppose. I don't have to wait for it to ship here, I can simply go get it myself. Sintharith and Acetone help, as well - they find little amusing things outside and bring them to me. Gathers are rather useful, also. Lots of Miners selling the more precious metals, and with such a well-built forgeworks here, I have just about everything I need, to make just about anything. There were some molds I had brought in from across various places in Pern, models that were updated for things like feed troughs and framework for different things that was better suited for this Weyr. It seems to work out well enough, the old molds were suited for others a bit more, so I sent the bluepr...." He trailed off, and sighed. "I'm sorry. I ramble when it comes to that."

He tore another meatroll in two, washing it down with a mouthful of Klah before a napkin was used to politely wipe the grease from his hands and mouth.

"No, no, I don't mind if you do. That's what I'm here for, after all. I don't get many visitors down there, at any rate. It's warmer than anywhere else, of course, so that tends to be its own deterrent. Outside the Winter months, of course. All sorts of people gravitate there when it's snowing."

He looked moderately relieved that she didn't have children. Quite, in fact. There was no good thing in offending people, and while he might be a bit prickly and sarcastic, N'tharon wasn't in the market for making enemies. It was a team effort in this Weyr, and while he may not either make the effort to get to know everyone or get along with all of them, it was inherent that he do his best not to set himself against anybody. He'd had enough issues with that at Ista, after all.

Nel didn't see any way around it. He had to own up to it, she had probably already figured it out by now, at least. Part of it, anyway.

"I'm originally from Ista. Had several half-brothers and sisters, two of them were here with me for a time. Threadfall got them a few turns back, so it's just me, now. I've still two other half-siblings, both at...Fort, if I remember correctly. My father is a bit of a fly-by-night, we were all Weyrborn. M'alygos and Yiserah, they were from Ista with me, if I remember right. I'm much the same, lots of Flightlust. Sintharith chases anything he can catch, made me more than my share of enemies back home. We moved here after a few situations happened, was trying to forget some things. M'alygos and Yiserah followed me here, then they were hit with Thread and I moved back to Ista for a while. Made some enemies from envious people, moved back here because Sintharith said it would be a good idea. Seems to be working for now, I don't think I'll be leaving anymore. Dalibor just...fits. For everything. Smithing, Threadfighting, all of it. I go down to my Forges, I make my jewelry, and people tend to leave me to it. Thankfully, nobody's come looking for me."

He took another sip of Klah, and Acetone settled his forepaws under him as he laid down beside Sol's elbow. He cheeped up at Lulz, content to watch the Pink for now and listen in to the conversation His was having with this New Nice Lady.

"Your siblings, they're here also? Or are they at another Weyr, and your parents as well?"

[Kila]

"Sounds like an interesting game," she said of his copper
ball play. Eccolath would like the idea of it, though she doubted the
Cyan would have the attention span to continue playing for long.
"Dragons do have interesting ways of pushing their bondeds to do
things. You seem pretty friendly for an insufferable shut-in, though. I
never would have guessed it. Then again I was stark raving mad only an
hour ago. It's amazing what good company can do for you." Acetone
seemed to agree with that, seemingly smitten with his two new lady
friends. With no food in sight the wildness went out of Lulz. The fat
Pink flopped down onto the table and cooed when Acetone nuzzled her. She
bumped noses with him, her tongue lolling out and her eyes reflecting a
calm shade of blue. Thank Farnath.

Sol smiled when he stopped abruptly mid-explanation and apologized for
rambling. "No, it's fine. It's interesting. Molding specifics might
be a bit over my head, but it's neat to hear the details that go into
the Craft. Sounds like being bonded is a big help when it's not keeping
you from doing your work. I always wondered how being a Rider affected
your craft if you chose to continue practicing after impression. I've
seen it develop into some interesting things. When a Healer impresses
and becomes a dragon healer, for example. Or Tanners who impress and end
up specializing in riding gear and equipment. I even head that one of
the former Herders is trying to breed a runner that is specifically
suited living in the Weyr and being around dragons. Stuff like that. If
I had been a Crafter I like to think that I would have bent my skills to
be Weyr-specific too."

"I won't bother you by bringing my broken things," she promised
again, returning to their original topic. "But the forge does sound
like an interesting place. I'll have to gravitate down there to visit
once it gets cold out." Which probably wouldn't be long,
unfortunately. At least she had something to look forward to now.

Sol quieted when the conversation took an unexpected, somber change. She
had guessed correctly that he was a transfer, but there was no way she
could have contrived his past. To lose family to threadfall... she
couldn't imagine that. Perhaps that's why he claimed to be withdrawn.
She cast down her eyes and stroked Acetone when he settled next to her
elbow. She hadn't meant to pry; hopefully being prompted to talk about
his past wouldn't upset him. She was on a roll today. "I'm sorry for
your losses," Sol said softly. "But I'm glad that you've found a
good fit in Dalibor. It's not the safest or the happiest place, but it's
a good home."

The mention of her siblings brought a fond smile to her face. "None
of them are at a Weyr, actually. We were all hold bred, though that
seems a million turns ago for me. I was very close with the younger two.
I'd love to see them searched- they'd make excellent Riders." She
held back from saying any more since he had just told her how his own
siblings had met a tragic fate. She took a sip of klah and listened to
the rain continue to fall.

[RhiaBlack]

N'tharon sat back in his chair, propping his feet up on the underside of the table's supports as he laced his fingers across his chest and peered at her curiously.

"Sintharith's good for that. If I had my way, would never leave the Forges outside of Threadfighting, maybe when he chases."

She had caught him on an off-day. Rain annoyed him marginally, but in some respects the days were made as dark as his personality at times, and that alone had warranted a measure of reprieve from his sarcasm. He did his best to try and restrict it, especially after words had been directed towards him as far as how 'snide' he could come across as. The thought etched his features with a shadowed frown - or would have readily, had he not caught it quickly enough. He coupled it with a shrug, to mask it.

"He tries, most times. He was practically the only thing that broke me out of earlier slumps, so I have to say I'm grateful for him. There's many I knew at Ista who were envious that their Dragons weren't a specific color, or didn't have a specific personality, or some such foolish things, but I got precisely what I needed. I wouldn't trade him for anything else, and from what I see, the people I have spoken to here...they think much the same thing."

The diversion back to Forgework hinted a small smile at the corners of his lips, one arm lifting for him to rub at the back of his neck with his hand. Acetone leaned into Sol's scratches and pets, before he diverted and settled down to tuck himself in next to Lulz. He -liked- these two. Even if the Pink was a bit aggressive, but he could appreciate that. His was aggressive sometimes, too. He was used to it. It wasn't all bad. It certainly seemed Sol had her thumb on her Pink's demeanor, too, which spoke volumes to N'tharon. It intrigued him profusely, as well, but like many things that amused him, he kept it filed in the back of his mind.

"It's no bother at all," he adjusted his heels against the table's base, and peered curiously at Acetone and Lulz, before turning dark eyes back towards Sol. "Wouldn't mind it a bit. Matter of fact, would give you an excuse to come talk to me, no less. People around here like to rumor-mill. Not that I mind much of it, very seldom do I hear anything about me, so who knows. I imagine half of them have no idea who I am, beyond 'that Blackrider Smith'. Sintharith's been trying to push me out of the Lower Caverns and our weyr into the public eye, so to speak. He says it might be good for me, I told him cutting me loose into general population isn't good for anyone but the gossips."

His hand settled back to his chest, laced with his other, once he'd taken another mouthful of Klah.

"Don't be, they died doing what they loved to do. I should be so lucky. Lots of us, we should be so lucky. I'll see them again one day. Hurts to live the rest of my life without them, but if I spend all that time feeling sorry for myself, and for them, then it's no good for anyone. So Sin says. I've lost someone close to me enough that it doesn't really phase me much anymore." He peered around them, at the ceiling, the people within. "This place is good for me. Much better than Ista, too many memories there I'd like to forget. Things that happened, were said, that are better left alone. Maybe it's hiding, but it's easier to hide in the dark when nobody knows you're there, worse than when everyone knows you're there."

Perhaps the truth as to why he liked Dalibor much more than anywhere else. Nobody here forced him to tell them about himself. It was all easy, graceful conversation, and he could just as easily avoid it if he wanted to. Even chases where Sintharith had won, it was a night in someone else's weyr, a night of aggressive passions that ended when he picked up his clothes, swung aboard his Black, and vanished into the hollow in the Weyr Bowl's wall reserved for them, or into the Forges to burn off the remnants of his energy swinging metal on metal.

Something about her, though. Something about her wouldn't leave him alone, and he couldn't put his finger on it. He wasn't sure if it was physical, or something else, but there was something about her...

N'tharon took another sip of Klah.

"Have they ever come here to visit? I imagine it's probably harder to do now that there's Threadfall to contend with, but I imagine you must miss them quite a bit. That being said - you go visit them, I suppose?"

[Kila]

N'tharon was painting a picture of his past life as drab as the
day outside. His stories of Ista and the things he left unsaid between
the lines were heavy. "That's so stupid," Sol said with sudden
passion when he described the Ista weyrfolk's views on their dragons.
"Rank and color don't mean a thing. Personality is everything,
though I can't believe they would complain about that too. They
obviously don't know how blessed they are to have been chosen by a
dragon at all. I wouldn't trade Eccolath for the world- for a Queen or a
Green or anything. Sensing her sudden fit of disquiet, Hally
appeared to make sure that his human was okay. The little black appeared
on her shoulder and peeped at her with concern. Sol gave a bashful laugh
and stroked him reassuringly. "Sorry, I didn't mean to shout at you.
I get a little carried away when I hear about stuff like that. I guess
it's "dragonriding is my craft, love, and life" syndrome." With no
other training, weyrmate, and a lot of transferred friends, Eccolath
really was Sol's everything. She couldn't understand people who felt
anything but love for their lifemates.

Having made sure that Sol was alright, Hally glanced at Acetone and
N'tharon and disappeared promptly into Sol's golden tangle of curls.
Lulz laughed at him from where she lay lazily on the table with her new
Black friend. Acetone was much more fun than Hally. Sol flicked her tail
gently. "Don't be mean." Hally was her first pet and very dear to
her; she couldn't abide anyone picking on him. "I'll come visit you
in the forges," she offered when N'tharon confessed that he did not
get many visitors. As of recently she was acutely aware of how it felt
to be lonely, and the BlackRider sounded like he could use some friends.
He was a little gloomy, but that was perhaps because of the rain, and in
any case he seemed like a nice person. "To the red star with the
rumor mill," she declared, "I go where I want!"

And what would there be rumors about?
Eccolath wondered for her, grinning suggestively. Sol tried her best to
brush her off. N'tharon had talked a LOT about flights and chasing and
what came with them. Was that just because Sintharith and Acetone chose
to chase often or was it something more? She looked at him over her klah
curiously. Was it only flightlust that he was interested in?
Perhaps I will rise once the rain clears and leave
you two together, Eccolath teased. Sol snorted into her cup and
began to cough, face red as Rubkat by the time she was done. She was
acting like a right loon today. "Excuse me. Eccolath... made me
laugh." Hopefully the sun would come out soon and cure her of this
madness.

"I do visit my family, but not so often as I would like to. Nor they me." She
was grateful to return that that more straightforward conversation. She
could feel Eccolath's amusement in the back of her mind and cursed the
Cyan. They could never let each other be. "My sister is a newly
apprenticed Harper, so she's very busy, and my younger brother likes to
do his own thing. He hasn't gotten pegged into any of the traditional
crafts. My mother writes often but she is busy as well, and my other
brother works with my father, neither of whom I am overly anxious to
see. Not so much as the others. Who knows, maybe my little brother will
be searched yet." She shrugged. It didn't really matter what she
wanted- it was his life and he would live it how he liked. Outside the
rain turned to mist and the sky lightened promisingly. Tangled as she
was in conversation, Sol did not notice.

[RhiaBlack]

"I agree," Nel remarked in turn, lacing his fingers back across his chest as he shoved the half-empty plate forwards and away from himself. "Though honestly, half the ones I left behind there, they aren't worth the sharding shells it takes to lift off the ground. The people, not the Dragons, that is. I find it hard to hold a Dragon accountable for too much, they're bonded sure, but they're still separate and sentient entities all the same. I do my fair share of things Sintharith doesn't approve of, much the same as sometimes he does things I don't."

Like chasing four females in one sevenday. N'tharon almost scowled, and Sintharith snickered in their weyr. He might be shy when it came to bespeaking people, but other dragons? Not a chance.

You weren't disapproving when I won three of them.
We are running out of Weyrs to live at, Sintharith. I don't want to get forced out of this one because you can't be more selective in what and who you chase.
Could be worse, they could all have male riders...
That hasn't stopped you before.
Perhaps not, but I know you find more--
Enough.

N'tharon sighed, rubbing his temples. Sharding little...

"He's going to get me into trouble, that one. All the same, I don't understand why people are so selective and prejudiced against color or rank. We're all threadfighters, we're all protecting Pern. I wouldn't take anything else for Sintharith. He salvaged me through some pretty rough points. Saved my life more than a time or two, nobody else knows half of what I was like before he came around. Don't you mind, there's a difference between shouting and getting passionate, and I can more than tell the difference."

He chuckled, and Acetone peered up at the sudden appearance of the other Black. The little guy crooned up at Hally, cheeping in greeting. He certainly didn't mean the shy other Black any harm! He seemed nice, even though Acetone hadn't yet actually -met- him. He uncurled himself from around Lulz, and padded his way over towards Sol to peer up at the other Black peeping out from His' curls. N'tharon watched him like a hawk - once he was certain Acetone wasn't going to be rude about it, he turned his attention not towards her, but towards the rest of the room. Almost as if he couldn't look her in the eye, at least for a moment or two.

Eyes were windows to the soul, after all. And one of the easiest ways to read him. Some things, it was like painting the words in a one-hundred-eighty font and sticking it on the side of a one-story building. Try as he might, he struggled to hide them; pain was something he was familiar with, and he did his best to manage all the same. The attachment issues at the core of his being didn't seem all that willing to go away anytime soon, and though he struggled with them almost daily, that draw to feel some sort of connection with someone else on a level just short of what he felt with Sintharith nearly peeled his skin away to bones some nights.

He crushed the weakness of emotion down beneath the iron-hard exterior. Don't let her see you weak. She'll laugh at you like the rest of them.
No she won't, NelMine. She laughs at many things - I don't think you are one of them.
Shut up.

"My dear, people will talk regardless of what anyone else says. I suppose the biggest part of it is whether anyone chooses to play into the rumors or not. I have a reputation for being rather...indiscriminate when it comes to my more personal company, thanks to my Blacks - both of them. Something I'm trying to curtail. Sintharith...chased a few of the wrong ladies, it would seem, and I made some enemies in my methods, so...."

N'tharon gestured with a near-shrug. The truth of the matter was, he was ostensibly good at...intercepting things. People. A control freak in every sense of the word, especially when unhinged by Flightlust, he was frighteningly capable of a level of conniving that had seen three different women effectively 'stolen' from their not-so-much-weyrmate-as-chosen-lover. Two of them had been furious at him for their own personal weakness - at least, that's how he'd seen it - and had made good on retributive actions by starting some malicious rumors about him. Ones that had seen it nearly impossible for him to win any further Flights outside of those who had effectively chosen him in the first place.

It was a problem that he was not only trying to keep away from Dalibor as far as word spreading, but trying to curtail by only showing up to the weyrs of select women whose bondeds his Black chased down.

One of the hardest things he had ever done, was learning how to speak to a woman with no intention of ending up in her weyr. Not something he particularly enjoyed doing, but there stood to be some respect earned for cutting back on his womanizing mannerisms. Sintharith wasn't helping - he knew what made His happiest, and was loathe to discourage him from doing just that. Acetone, thankfully, was far more understanding. The smallest of his Blacks had all but stopped chasing - perhaps one per month, if not less.

Of course, admitting that to anyone he was talking to was on the same level as telling Avalle he'd committed some sort of heinous crime. He hadn't, but the difficulty was still there. Let alone telling another woman that much.

"If you wish to run the risk, I would be glad to show you where I work, what I do. Keep company of a slightly - but not much more - private variety. I've two somewhat-apprentices, a Weyrbrat whose sister is a Weyrling here, who tends to gravitate towards my work. She enjoys pretty things, and I make many of them. The other is a Candidate here, he's interested in Smithcraft, so I promised him I'd allow him to help out so long as he's not neglecting his lessons or chores."

Her laugh softened the otherwise hard expression he wore; it was such an honest sound. Guilt stabbed at his thoughts, and Sintharith soothed him without words. He wasn't necessarily a cruel or bad man - simply prone to a side of his personality that struggled to make up for what he had lost so long ago. It made him ruthless, and he wasn't sure if he wanted to hit that level with her. She was so much better than that. So much better than him, and the realization dragged him under the surface of his own self-loathing. She's too good for you.

His jaw tightened through the smile that pulled at his lips.

"Strange that it seems Searchdragons always find those who seem as if they have no direction, as well as those who presume they have already found theirs. I thought I was destined to be a Smith, and nothing more, then bam. Searched, taken to Ista, next thing I know I'm a Blackweyrling. Life is funny sometimes. Perhaps your brother will end up here, maybe even your sister at that. Dragons don't seem to care how busy we are."

Sintharith grumped at him, and it made Nel chuckle.

"If both were to end up here, what color do you think they'd Impress? I can't say 'if at all', Dalibor seems to have a pretty fantastic reputation for Impressing Candidates, and not leaving anyone Standing."

[Kila]

Sol nodded in silent gratitude when N'tharon sympathized with
her passionate outburst. If he had not been able to tell she was not
just shouting then it would just be another thing to add to the rotten
first impression she was surely making. They seemed to be very much on
the same page about dragons and their bondeds and their worth though,
which appealed to her greatly. "Don't think a minute about the people
you left behind," she said softly. "You've already said it
yourself- they aren't worth a thing. It's not like that here."
Dalibor was built of underdogs, so with only a few notable exceptions
everyone was very accepting and unprejudiced.

Seeing Acetone looking, Sol gently pulled Hally from his hiding spot and
held him in her arms. She stroked her precious Black as N'tharon talked
on about the rumor mill. She kept her eyes down on Hally almost shyly,
her cheeks slightly red; It seemed that her and Eccolath's thoughts had
been pretty transparent. Embarassing. But he told her about his personal
life anyway, unabashed. Sol was certainly not shy about sex or
flightlust, having been a Rider for so long, so his admission of being
"indiscriminate" because of the rigor of his Blacks was nothing
shocking. "Some people don't understand it," she offered
helpfully. "Even if it is natural, people still love to talk about
it." Especially when it was in excess, which made N'tharon a prime
target.

It nagged at her though- knowing that he was indiscriminate in his
personal company and had a strong reputation for it. It was easy to play
the field without a hint or interest in loyalty and cover it up with
chases and lust. People did it though, and if that was what they were
interested in Sol could not blame them. It just meant that she
had to be careful. She wore her heart on her sleeve at times, but she
had been hurt before and knew to be cautious. It had been so nice
talking to N'tharon after her lonely week and he seemed a kind person,
but she resolved to keep he heart guarded before anything had the chance
to develop. "I will come down and visit," she promised, not
letting any of her precautions stand in the way of pursuing him as a
friend. "I think I'll run the risk," she said, giving a playful
wink.

She had begun to ponder what sort of dragons her siblings might impress
when Eccolath cut in. Listen, she
instructed, and Sol did. I don't hear anything, she said after a
while, which provoked amusement in the Cyan.
Exactly. Eccolath flashed her an image of a
weak ray of sun. "Oh!" Sol exclaimed, jumping up. Hally clung to
her front fearfully and Lulz looked up at her mild curiosity. "It
stopped raining!" she said, beaming at N'tharon. A little kid at
Christmas could not have been more excited. "I have to go," she
said, scooping up Lulz unceremoniously. "I mean to go outside. And
recharge. The sun." She laughed at herself. "See? I'm a right
mess without it. I hope I wasn't dreadful company," she said, making
a face. "It was nice to sit and talk with you though. Thanks for
letting us stick around. I'll see you soon. Once it gets cold I will
gravitate your way." With a final smile she bounded out of the Hall
to meet Eccolath in the puddles. Her Cyan had done well to send her to
the kitchens.

[RhiaBlack]

N'tharon's eyes settled on the Black in her arms, and he looked mildly amused. Acetone was doing his best to try and convince Hally he wasn't something to be afraid of. He hopped around Lulz, crooning at the other little Black cheerfully, before slithering across Lulz' back and chirping. Didn't he want to come play with them? They weren't mean, he promised!

"I try to think much like that," Nel finally admitted. "That what they say doesn't matter, that it was envy or some other foolish sense of self that made them start such vicious words against my behalf, but the truth of it is that they had more pull there than I did, and people used reputation to make their minds up long before they ever spoke to me."

To tell her the truth, or not. N'tharon chewed on the inside of his lip, swept her with a silent promise to himself. She had probably already decided not to pursue him, but that was all right. Nel had to talk himself into this whole 'not-always-after-something' mentality, after all. She was certainly more obtainable than Avalle, Sintharith reasoned in his mind. A Gold was a bit far out of his league, and he didn't think any Golds he had known of were the sort that -didn't- settle down with a particular other half.

The affirmation that she would come down to speak with him when it got cold did manage to affirm a small smile to his features.

"I look forward to it. It has to be a day when it's gray and dreary out - I won't have you skipping out on sunshine and such for the sake of my account."

She was pretty. Smart, pretty, honest from what he could tell. Truthful. Damn near carefree, it seemed like. Not something he wanted to hurt, and most of those who had some sort of normalcy to their attachments were most certainly hurt by him leaving the morning after. He steeled himself. He couldn't do that to her, he -wouldn't- do that to her.

He broke into laughter when she jumped up, and Acetone fell over Lulz skittering backwards. Scampering for His, Acetone bailed off the side of the table and into N'tharon's arms, scrambling up to hide between his forearms and his chest. He peeped out with a chirp, and Nel laid a hand across his little wings with a deep-seated chuckle.

"Enjoy your time out, then. With any luck, it will be a welcome reprieve from the dark, won't it? Give my regards to your Cyan. I should probably head down to the Caverns, I suspect that it's a prime time to finish some work I have left over. Good day, Miss Sol."

With that, he pulled himself away from the wall, and hoisted to his feet. Acetone climbed up his bicep, slithering around his shoulders as N'tharon carried himself towards the lower caverns. He could feel his smithing hammer in his hands already.

Perhaps, MineOwn?
No. If she moves first, maybe. I am through pursuing.
Kings are not the sort to allow themselves to be chased, MineLove.
They will hear me roar in other ways, Sintharith. I do not always need to shake my mane to make myself known.
There are some who are afraid of the dark.
Then when they wish to conquer their fear, they know where to find me. For now, we wait. It is the respectable thing to do, and it will not net me enemies here.