| Suyinth's Mating Flight Saturday, August 12, 2001 The World of Pern(tm) copyright (c) 1967 by Anne McCaffrey. The Dragonriders of Pern(r) is a registered copyright. Log courtesy of Siani POV from both Siani and Suyinth ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Living Cavern (#400) Flawlessly carved archways highlight the uniform walls that extend upwards into the cavern's near total darkness above. The night hearth abides beside the largest egress, while along the northern span a handcarved staircase ascends into the kitchens. To the east a dais supports the long Weyrleaders' table; smaller table-boards align the walls nearby. The heart of the room is distinguished by gray flagstone flooring, whose skillfully interlocking slabs have been worn level by the passage of countless bootheels through the ages. You see Cadhla, Wing Assignment Board, Twyll, Goober, Lursa, Scrumptious Buffet Table, and Rollick here. Obvious exits: Bowl Lower Caverns Tunnel Kitchen Game Room R'kan comes in from the bowl. Siani is nothing more than a small person curled tightly in a large chair, mumbling erratically about things that aren't really glowing. Nope, nope.. She didn't see anything, nope. No glowing dragons on her doorstep. R'kan has had his fill of the glowing dragon thing: no more flights, or golds, or... /girls/. A creeling Aoshi gets his attention, and the man shoves a meatroll into the baby 'lizard's mouth, the rings beneath his eyes accentuated with an upwards roll and a tired sigh. The mumbling doesn't get his attention, yet--he's a bit too concerned with himself to wonder about insane Sr. Weyrwomen. Same old, same old. In her haze of denial, Siani does manage to spy R'kan upon his entrance. She asks, plaintively, "Did you see her? She's not glowing right? It's really too soon and I don't care what she says about it." R'kan blinks, and two of his registered words queuing a sprint for safety ('glowing' and 'she') blip on. He takes a step back. "No. I didn't see her. But if I did, I'd tell you that she's not glowing, and that it's really too soon." When all else fails, mimic the other person. "I don't care what she says about it either," he adds helpfully, retreating back another step. Granted, he still doesn't know what Siani's talking about. Maybe she's, um, worried about phosphorescent paint on Suyinth. That's gotta be it. V'zan comes in from the bowl. A sweaty, tired V'zan trudges into the cavern, leaving a trail of dirt behind him. Before even acknowledging the presence of anyone else, he immediately heads over to a sidetable where he grabs a loose rag and begins toweling off his face, neck and hands. Only then does he flash a weary smile towards the other riders in the chamber. V'len comes in from the bowl. Siani sighs happily at R'kan, obviously extremely pleased at something he's said. "Yes, that is it exactly! I'm so glad someone /finally/ agrees with me. I told Suyinth she couldn't be proddy and I simply will not allow it whatsoever!" the diminutive Weyrwoman exclaims, raising her arm into the air and pointing at the ceiling to emphasize her point. V'zan has turned his back to the rest of the room after his brief greeting, focused now on pouring himself a large glass of ice cold juice. Thus missing Siani's comment, he obliviously strides towards the Weyrwoman and her accompaniment, dragging a stool closer upon which to relax and eavesdrop. V'len wanders in, looking a bit confused. Not that that's abnormal - the bronzerider is nearly perpetually confused... but he at least thinks he knows what's going on. This time, even he isn't quite sure. At the word 'proddy' however... he goes a bit pale for a moment. So this is why Yevgeth insisted that he needed to check on the lighting in the weyrbowl... from the bottom? It sounded a bit weak. But Siani's insistance molifies him a bit. "Oh, don't allow it. You need to exercise some discipline, you know. That's what I do. Strength of character. It's respected. That's what I've found, anyway." >> [Sun] Suyinth stretches lazily across the landscape of the male minds laid out before her, tickling with a breath of peach vibrancy. Despite the recent news to the contrary, she is indeed glowing brightly, letting the orangey gold of her hide pulse through the mental channel. << T'irnan comes in from the bowl. >> [Sun] Noswaith's dark tendrils of thought insinuate themselves into the minds of his fellow dragons, leaving behind a sooty aftertaste as the bronze worldlessly stakes his claim upon Suyinth and warns others away from his possession. << "Yeah! You show that gold who's boss," R'kan exclaims, not knowing for sure exactly who is boss, so long as whoever it is doesn't fly when he's anywhere nearby. A glance at V'zan, who is, more than likely, clueless as always, and he runs a finger lengthwise over pale neck, blue eyes bulging to emphasize his point: abandon all hope, ye who enter here. At the word 'proddy', R'kan was about ready to follow his own advice and run far, far away, but he--at least, the Maraith half of 'he'--refuses to work his feet. V'zan is indeed clueless as usual, his thoughts still dwelling on the flower garden which he has only recently departed from. Idly scraping dirts from 'neath his fingernails, he slowly draws his attention towards the conversation at hand, seeking to ascertain the current topic. "Trouble with Suyinth again, Sia?" T'irnan makes his way into the cavern, in out of the summer's long eve. Draped across one shoulder is a length of hide, dyed a deep green. There seems to be a subtle color variation in the hide, though, and it's this phenomenon that brings him across the continent to have a few words with the Fortian Weyrtanner. The curious mix of emotions in the air halts him before he's come more than a few feet into the cavern, with a bow to Fort's Weyrwoman as his bornze regales him with the delightful news of the proddy queen. >> [Sun] Maraith comfortably fans his thoughts out in a riffle of brazen ginger scent, carelessly making his presence known with a beacon of brilliant orange, copper-streaked and ready for ought. Heed Noswaith? Surely he doesn't need to--his vouch for dominant masculinity is strength in color and scent, and with enough of that mental flexing, Suyinth will come to him. Or so he thinks. << V'len is in full agreement with R'kan. "I, for one, have no intention of being slave to the hormonal whims of a dragon." He's trying the best he can to calmly pour himself a mug of klah, but his hands are shaking for some unexplained reason. Sweetner is splashed liberally around the mug, some actually making its' way in... and he proceeds to exuberantly stir. V'len is nearly always clueless, so he's in good company here today. No one's letting on at all. "I say, just tell her what your needs are and let her adapt. It's the way to handle a dragon." Ahem. "If there's something wrong, that is..." V'zan briefly raises his glass in greeting to the rider from Xanadu before peering at Siani quizzically. "There's always /something/ wrong with Suyinth." The Weyrleader surreptitiously scoots his stool away from V'len. "Look's like Suyinth's not the only one with a problem, either..." R'kan is fine. Siani is fine. Suyinth is fine. The bronzerider is very willing to accept these three facts as given and change the subject to whatever Siani wants, and he's guessing that it's something pretty and having nothing to do with flights, or dragons, or glowing. "So, how bout that M'edi," he begins. "Sheesh, is Ocreth giving him trouble or what." Yes, a nice, boring topic. Wounded glares go to both V'len and V'zan, throat clearing with that classic don't-antagonize-the-Weyrwoman tone. Shhh! >> [Sun] Chandioth rests from his flight up from the South, his own cinnamon-hoared scent of masculinity ebbing and flowing along the draconic link as he tastes, tests these draconic currents, so different from those of his home weyr. << >> [Sun] There's a sense of movement beyond the psychic scope as Suyinth gathers herself upon the physical ledge where she resides. Brushing across each of your minds, she tickles with promised delight. <<Come... I hunger. It is time to feast.>> << >> [Sun] Yevgeth sends brassy undertones around his rumbling voice as he lifts his finely chisled head. <<Lovely evening for a romantic little flight, no?>> Subtle? Not really... the thoughts hold a undercurrent of possession. Masculinity? Those others think they can compete? << Suyinth> Feeding Grounds Suyinth> Nestled in the southwestern curve is an area closed in on three sides by fence and hardwood planks and by the lake and beach on the fourth. Dragons soaring overhead frequently terrorize the stock with their hungry dives and bloody feedings. The smell can be unpleasant, especially during high winds, although the current batch of Candidates and weyrlings clean the pens every few days, much to their chagrin. Suyinth> The nights are growing noticeably shorter as the promise of summer hangs around the corner. Spring has yet to complete its cycle of rebirth though, as the nightly light showers and quickly growing vegetation attest. Suyinth> You see Squirt here. Suyinth> Obvious exits: Suyinth> Central Bowl Lake Shore Weyrling Area Flight Exit Siani groans suddenly, burying her face in the crook of her arm, tighting the ball of her body in the chair she's curled against. "No... no.." she chants, obviously displeased with the state of something beyond the reaches of caverns. "Sharding dragon, you cannot do this to me so soon again! And simply out of jealousy for Tanrhith's clutch!" Only when his lifemate heads toward the feeding grounds does realization finally dawn upon V'zan. "Oh shards, not this again...." He sounds almost resigned, a far cry from his usual attempts at denial and avoidance. Glaring resentfulyl at Siani, he queries, "Couldn't you have left me time to at least take a bath first?" Suyinth> Chandioth sweeps into the Fortian feeding grounds after he makes a quick zip out over a meadow filled with late summer flowers. As he wings back after the queen, he opens all four talons, and a shower of blossoms rains onto the ground, surrounding her in petal's kuxury. After this romantic gesture, he bores into the captive 'beasts, bearing a sturdy bullock to the ground, snapping it's back with the force of the landing. Suyinth> Noswaith settles down gently, watching with undisguised amusemement as the herdbeass scatter at the approach of so many dragon. He then contemptuously dismisses the other males before slipping closer to Suyinth, intent on keeping her within easy reach. R'kan cringes, eyes squinting full down at the mention of Tanrhith and clutch. "Jealousy?" he asks quietly, the coughs at V'zan, sticking his tongue out as a gesture of the most mature retort he can think of to defend Siani's... well, her lack of interest in proddiness. "Hey, wasn't her fault. I don't think she has much of a choice when it comes down to something that much bigger than her." R'kan certainly isn't picking a fight with Suyinth any time soon. Suyinth> Suyinth chooses her first course, quickly skewering the plump beast upon sharp talons as she feasts upon the gush of life that rises and falls from the unfortunate animal. A curl of a rumble bubbles up from her swallowing throat - a sound of contentment or of challenge? The klah is actually splashing a bit, as V'len sets it down undrunk. "Control her," he commands, but his voice comes out more as a squeak... a plea. Obviously controlling Yevgeth is well beyond him at this point. "I'm not really ...prepared to deal with this situation myself, at this particular moment." He flashes a sympathetic glance towards V'zan. "And I really am not too pleased about being pulled into something on account of the petty emotions of battling females... draconic or otherwise." He's working hard at being endearing too. T'irnan barely has time to stagger to a seat on an empty wooden bench before lavender-tinged thoughts invade his mind. Knowing that the only way to deal with this is to relax and go with the flow, he nevertheless feels quite out of his baliwick. All he wanted to do wad see why his leather had developed the flaw that ruined the coloring; never had he expected that his arrival would so coincide with the rising of Fort's Senior queen! Some niggling thought enters his mind, and he rises to go and get a cup of something cool, bowing once again as he passes Fort's Weyrleader and the rest of the group surrounding Siani. Water. Must. Have. Water. Suyinth> Noswaith follows the lead of his queen, casually lashing out at a passing meal, leaving bloody furrows in its flank. Rather than immediately finishing the creature off, however, the malicious bronze instead spreads his wings wide, using them as a sort of net to corral the wounded beast, seemingly taking great pleasure from the animal's frantic, wounded cries. After thusly playing with his food for a short while, Noswaith finally leans in to tear off the head and greedily suck upon the font of lifeblood spurting from the beast's jaggedly severed neck. Siani lifts her face to stare at those before her and, in particular, V'len. "Control her?" she rasps increduously of the younger bronze rider. Anger flares in the grey-green eyes and she draws herself upwards from the chair, slender hands balled into fists at her sides. "You forget yourself, V'len. I've been controlling Suyinth long before you had dreams of flying on Yevgeth's back. You well know I cannot stop her once she bloods." Suyinth> Yevgeth slides down from the sky, angling first this way and then that to let the sun glint from his spectacular hide. Fabio of the skies... that's what he's been called... and he's fully aware of the heartbreakingly lovely picture he makes as he swoops in for his first kill. It's accomplished with precision... a capable, no-nonsense capture with a clean kill... no overdosing of blood and gore for him. It ruins the look, you see. Blood is drunk no less greedily though, all the while, a low rumble in his throat warning the other males not to set their minds on that which is so obviously his... the lovely queen. Suyinth> Maraith barrels his way, puppy-like towards the herdbeasts, inhibitions few as he pounces upon a herdbeast and slurps with abandon, making a sanguine mess of innards and fur. Passionlessly, he takes one life, then again, screams of pain falling on deaf teeth and claws, enthusiastic only about the death, the bold red of fluid life, rolling down his throat and percolating into the ground below. Suyinth> Chandioth doesn't toy with his food, nono, not for him, that. Terror adds a tang to the meat that isn't what the liquid-golden bronze is seeking. Flexing his neck, he fastens his draconic lips to the throat of his prey, draining the lifefluid before he turns, swift as thought, and fells a second. Brassy talons clench the dirt, their fire-red tips now stained ocher. V'zan finishes off the remainder of his juice with a quick swallow before idly tossing the glass aside, ignoring the crash as it shatters upon impact with the floor. "It's too late to worry about it now, V'len. Might as well just relax and ride the tide of your dragon's emotions." His tone is rather weary and bedraggled; V'zan is obviously not looking forward to this experience, either, but he's just too tired to put up a fight this time. Suyinth> With a sudden bugle of impending doom, Suyinth casts away the empty husk before her and leaps upon another beast attempting to flee the horrors unfolding before him. Another juicy tidbit served up for Suyinth's pleasure as she clamps her muzzle around his quivering throat and begins to slurp the delicious offering. No romance heroine is she at this momment. Merely a killing dragon of need. Crossing the cavern with a glass in his hand, Tirnan's suddenly struck with a sense of the ridiculous: here he is, 40-something Turns old, and he's as nervous as a weyrling at his first flight! Chuckling releases tension stored in the bronzerider's muscles, and it's a picture that's in complete difference to the strained attitude from before. Only a tightening around sea-green eyes betrays his nervousness as he settles to a seat next to the group.. not close enough for his presence to be deemed an intrusion; yet not so far away that his intentions aren't obvious. R'kan squeaks and, like the brave man he is, takes a step backwards, toppling a chair and looking very much surprised at the sudden outburst, eyes locked hard on Siani and emphatically holding his tongue. A glance at V'zan, T'irnan, and V'len, and a leviathan of indiscernible emotion floats over his face, first weary, then excited, then... nothing. Blonde hair is pulled over a shoulder and toyed with, nervous fingers twining it into a thick braid, then diplomatically, he says, "Maybe we should all just calm down?" V'len blinks, then gulps. It seems control /is/ rather out of the question. "Um, right..." he answers weakly to both the werywoman and V'zan. And it's too late to run, isn't it? "I was just hoping that we might be able to work this out other ways?" A way that would not involve V'len, hopefully. Ah, but it's too late for that, now. "Not that I'm worried or anything... no, not me." He straightens, pasting a ridiculous approximation of posied suaveness on his face with an exaggerated pose, leaning against the mantel. All he needs is a smoking jacket. "Not like this isn't anything I've experienced before, you know." Slight cough. Suyinth> Noswaith garners dark energy not just from the blood of the herdbeasts, but also from their agony and terror. His next kill is thus equally brutal, as a young specimen is pinned to the ground beneath one massive claw. Savoring the fearful bleating, Noswaith almost gently runs a single talon along the animal's underbelly, eviscerating it with near surgical precision. Draconic tongue then lovingly licks at the steaming entrails before plunging into the gaping wound to crush the weakly struggling beast's heart. Suyinth> Chandioth fells a third with his graceful economy of motion, the lower angle of Rukbat as it slips into the eventide catching on the champagne-bubbles across his massive chest. Wide wings slip from their tight-held position on his back: unfurling, their candlesmoke patterns change in subtle ways. He cants his rounded, regal head to the side, admiring the play on the hide of golden Suyinth, and a warm, mellow croon emanates from his throat. Ahhhhh, how wonderful you are in the sunlight, his very actions proclaim. Siani croaks suddenly, as if remembering some long-forgotten train of thought, "Oh, welcome to Fort Weyr.." This said to T'irnan. "I'm Siani and I'm afraid your timing is either very good or very bad, depending on your view of things." Suyinth> The bloodless body of the herdbeast is tossed aside as Yevgeth raises his head from the carcass. Almost casually, he reaches for his next prey, a young female with terror-stricken white-rimmed eyes. Again, the kill is merciful. Royalty is thus, you see... and his royal manner befits that of a queen. Blood is licked greedily, the warning rumbling in his throat again as the other males continue their bloody frenzy around him. Pausing in his meal, he croons gently, reassuringly to the golden one... the lovely one. <<Soon, my dear... >> V'zan merely remains perched upon his stool, a cold smile slowly spreading across his features as the taste of blood begins to wash away the rider's sanity, leaving bestial instincts in its wake. "Hush, V'len. You are beginning to annoy me." His words may be directed towards the bronzerider, but his gaze is carefully focused upon Siani. "And now is definitely not a time to annoy me." V'zan then takes a shuddering breath, beginning to quiver slightly as weariness is gradually replaced by draconic invigoration... and draconic need. Suyinth> Maraith absorbs strength from blood and ego, pushing his entirety into muscles, flexing and shimmering the hide above. He is far from the sadist that Noswaith is; power, charisma, they are his essence, and gargantuan bronze dragon, blood and mud splattered, body pulsing with ichor, is what is existing, breathing, fighting for the energy that will catch Suyinth in the air--something no wooing words on land can do. Knowing it's a bad time, work calls as Ashelyn enters the great cavern, making herself small against one of the walls. She knew she had left that stupid hide here somewhere. Oh, what a time to have to have to be here! T'irnan turns towards the Weyrwoman of Fort, and the smile that crosses his face is more wolfish leer than the polite grin turned upon the group as he made his way towards them. "Well met, Siani of Fort, rider of golden Suyinth. And I'd have to say.. my timing seems.. impeccable, as always." The glass of water is raised to his lips, hiding the thin mustache as well as the tongue that creeps out, unbeknown, to moisten parted lips before the cooling liquid passes them. Suyinth> Suyinth eagerly claims her third, offering mercy to the terrified beast with a quick ending of life that she then sets about savouring with undisguised relish. A sound, not unlike the feline's purr, vibrates her throat with its deep, pleasured tones. Once every bit is draw away from the unmoving body at her feet, she rises up to full height and, with something akin to daintiness, begins to clear away all traces of the bloody ravishment from her hide and talon tips. V'len is used to being annoying. It's kind of his mission in life. Still, V'zan's words bring him up short as he follows his eyes to Siani. Yes... one would not be wanting to annoy her now, would we? Yevgeth's energy seems to be pulsing through him, and he re-adjusts his debonair stance by the mantel, running his fingers through his hair to give him that careless, devil-may care look. It doens't go well with his shaking, though. "T'irnan and Chandioth of Xanadu Weyr," Siani says back to the unfamiliar bronzerider, managing a weak and almost embarrassed smile. A prickle of gooseflesh causes her to rub along her arms, a slight shiver rippling over her spine. "I think... it's almost time," is whispered. Suyinth> Chandioth lowers his body to the ground, whirling lavender eyes never leaving the gleaming form of the queen. He rumbles quiet approval of her cleaning while firetipped talons clench and relaese, clench and release, churning the ground of the feeding pens beneath his bulk. The muscles in his copper-streaked haunches bulge and firm as ichor heats and the great bronze prepares himself to launch after the queen as soon as she should indicate her willingness to do so. Suyinth> Yevgeth is ready for yet another, his control slipping as his next prey is dispatched a little more greedily, his muzzle stained by the lifeblood. Even a king has needs - in fact, rather pressing ones. Whirring eyes don't leave the queen, his great tail whipping back and forth as he feeds, leaving a huge sweep in the sand behind him. The bleating of the herdbeasts in the pen isn't a distraction... the rumbling and feeding of the other males has fading into oblivion. It's only the golden queen.. and the magnificent Yevgeth is here to serve her. Suyinth> Noswaith stretches langorously to swipe at a venerable herdbeast, brutally tearing off both hindlegs before leaning back and watching with demnted amusement as the seriously wounded creature attempts to drag itself along the ground away from him, leaving a trail of crimson ichor behind like a trail of gruesome breadcrumbs. Rather than ending the animal's misery, however, Noswaith instead turns his back upon it, leaving it to slowly bleed to death on its own. The time for blood has passed; now it is time for the chase. Suyinth> Maraith rolls his shoulders back, a tremble going through his body as wings, then back haunches, then down to tailtip quivers with a collective spasm, impatient muscles burning with fuel, and nothing to do with himself save watching the queen proon. It seems a waste, really, and he voices this opinion with his first true emotion at the moment: a bold leonine roar, a depth in his throat radiating masculinity and pride--time to kill, time to move, time to fly! Suyinth> Suyinth seems satisfied with herself, outstretching her wings to show the golden dapple beneath the slowly ending daylight. A soft little warble greets the suitors before her and she rises upwards on her haunches, suddenly leaving the ground behind with that tiny little warble beckoning... <<Come play?>> Suyinth> High Above the Central Bowl Suyinth> The winds here pound, ever flowing, carrying limited amounts of oxygen that works to steal away what breath is left from the spectacular view. Though the sight here is not as grand as the one higher up, it is nonetheless a vision to behold. Sapphire gleams upward from the lake's rippling waters, the jewel of the Weyr. Light reflects, adding to the aquatic glitter: in daylight, the sun's rays glint, while night brings pale moons to cast their luminous glow on the waters beneath. Suyinth> The nights are growing noticeably shorter as the promise of summer hangs around the corner. Spring has yet to complete its cycle of rebirth though, as the nightly light showers and quickly growing vegetation attest. Suyinth> Obvious exits: Suyinth> Northeastern Curve Eastern Curve Southwestern Curve Western Curve Upwards Northern Curve Lake "Aye" T'irnan affirms, "of Xanadu. Weyrtanner. I was here to see your tanner about a hide that had gone wrong." And if it's something that the tanner can't fix, the problem must be vexing indeed. He slips into silence then, as the whirling emotions of his lifemate demand more and more of his attention. Somewhow, he finds himself rising, flinging the heavy wherhide from his shoulder. His fingers tighten on the waterglass, which cracks under the pressure exerted from the thick, strong fingers. Suyinth> Chandioth shoots with uncanny speed away from the feeding grounds far below. Suyinth> Maraith shoots with uncanny speed away from the feeding grounds far below. Suyinth> Noswaith shoots with uncanny speed away from the feeding grounds far below. Ashelyn nervously walks around the cavern, trying to be quiet and careful, only to result in knocking a glass over, it shattering on the hard stones of the cavern floor. She freezes, feeling as though she's committed some kind of great travesty. Suyinth> Yevgeth shoots with uncanny speed away from the feeding grounds far below. Siani's eyes glaze for a fractin of a second and then she smile again, this time the expression one of growing, languid pleasure. "I suppose then, T'irnan, that will have to wait." To the others she sweeps an arm toward the bowl's entrance, "Shall we gentlemen?" >> [Sun] Noswaith's dark amusement reaches out to embrace both the queen and the competition. << We are more than ready to play, but you may not like the game we decide upon. >> His voice then fades, leaving behind the faint sound of screams and whimpers. << R'kan looks pleasantly innocent, milking away tension into his generic, relaxed face, pink-lipped smile and all. The bronzer feels calm enough now to a) not pounce upon Siani and drag her back to his lair, and b) wave happily to Ashelyn. Still, an uneasy look tells the girl to stay back, and Siani's cue is nodded at. "I suppose we shall," he murmurs, turning on his heel and heading towards the exit. V'zan cracks his knuckles before leaping from the stool and decisively striding toward's the cavern's exit. "Don't bother following, gentlemen. You are extremely outclassed." V'len clears his throat. He's not feeling particularly gentlemanly at the moment, but he can play the part. Kind of. "Well, yes, weyrwoman, m'lady, dear..." he stammers, breaking that carefully orchestrated pose. >> [Sun] The greed of her feast is forgotten, replaced with a giddy, playful nature as she skips back and forth, circling each of you with feather-like tendrils that wiggle and beckon, like a teasing child. <<Come and play with me, please?>> << T'irnan nods, acknowledging that comment, and he sets the cracked glass down down on the table with enough force to deepen the crack and render it useless. Ignoring the comments, he falls into line behind the others, to follow them to whatever fate awaits them. Weyrwoman's Weyr Footfalls echo like the pounding of a message drum, and the flutter of ever-present bat wings above reproduce to a multitude of haunting 'sounds'. The weyr's cavern is vast; glows' light never quite able to reach each nook and cranny of the vaulted ceiling. Though now inhabited by Siani's own possessions, something remains of the former occupant: a wooden loom offers a half-finished vision of a 'tapestry' in the making. Other furnishings are sparse, consisting of oversized pillows scattered over the stone floor and a small table with a couple of chairs. The rest of the cavern is dominated by the massive couch at its very center, its wallow filled full of sweet rushes and soft furs. Screens shelter a portion of the weyr, fashioning a makeshift alcove that offers some modicum of privacy. A wall partitions the chamber in the back, leading to the bath. In the far right corner hides a 'trapdoor', its polished copper handles gleaming in the light of the glows. You see Saro here. Obvious exits: Ledge Bath Council Room Alcove V'zan has arrived. R'kan has arrived. T'irnan has arrived. Suyinth> Yevgeth cants his wings to catch the gleam from setting Rubkat, the glow lighting his hide momentarily like a beacon to those who might be watching below. Play? It's more than play now... and he scoops the air in his wingsails, his powerful form darting forward. He's eager, and ready. Tag? She's most certainly 'it' in his eyes. V'len has arrived. Suyinth> Suyinth twirls about in the sky for a moment, bringing her sun-dappled wings in against the plumpness of her belly as she rolls about in the air, thrilling her exhilaration at the feeling of freedom and fun. Away, away... into the summer sky that still holds so much promise of things to come. It's early yet, in her mind. She doesn't have to return anytime soon and she has much to see, much to do. Follow her, if you so wish, into the warm air that swirls about the Fortian landscape below. >> [Sun] Maraith's mind is mercury, swirling dull and maleficent with an undertone of raw garlic and, even deeper, the metallic scent of steel and blood. <<Play to win, boys,>> he says, <<and beware the beast that is me.>> << Suyinth> With a gathering of intent, the water-washed gold and fiery copper-streaked haunches of Chandioth send the bronze up and away, arrowing after the amber gold. Grey-streaked wings stroke leisurely against the air, and he indulges in a bit of most un-bronzelike aerobatics by peeling off into a tight, spiraling barrel roll, testing the paly of his muscles, the pull of this ofreign air against his 'sails. Play? Aye, and aye again, the bronze affirms. Catch as catch can, and he flips into a ring-o-levio, pulling himself into the flightline, well-placed in the middle of the pack. Siani paces about the expansive cavern, plucking a pillow from the floor and inspecting it curiously. Then, without warning, she launches it into the air toward R'kan. A wide, child-like smile splits her face, eyes gleaming with growing mischief. Still more pillows are snatched up and, in turn, sent flying at V'len, V'zan and T'irnan. How well is her aim? Suyinth> This is a game that Noswaith knows all too well, a game at which he considers himself a master. The time has now come to prove the truth to this boast, as shadow-tinged wingsails spread wide to carry the infernal bronze aloft in pursuit of his gilded pleasure slave, aerial artistry accentuated by the whip-like lashings of his tail, which hint at the reception Suyinth will receive when finally she is caught and tamed by her lord. Relentlessly he shall pursue and conquer; resistance is futile. Suyinth> Yevgeth will play too, but a different game. This romancer of the skies is playing at the game of love. <<No need to run, my darling...>> he croons, tendrils of amber reaching out towards her. There's strength in his movements - he's all bronze, this boy, but he's tender, too... the heart of a romantic. Reassurance, admiration, all this flows from him as he sets out towards the queen. Those others don't deserve her... they want to conquer. He...he wants to cherish. Suyinth> Maraith is no trickster, but plays harlequin to the fleeing amorata, wings set apumping and eyes steeled forward, onward: there is no other direction but the earthy gold. Muscles pump with secure inefficiency, headstrong and certain that energy is not something he will lack. His flight is hardly a dance, his thoughts not the traipsing, waltzing symphony of lovers' chase, but somewhere in that brutish body is a pixie trill, and Maraith flies ever for Suyinth. V'zan strikes swiftly, almost thoughtlessly snatches the pillow from the air. Favoring Siani with a feral smile, he takes careful hold of the pillow and violently rends it in twain before casting it aside. The bronzerider then prowls further into the weyr, trailing snow-white feathers in his wake. R'kan's focused mind and eyes are latched to Siani, watching her as she moves, pacing, pausing. In fact, his concentration is so deep, that eyes cross as the fluffy projectile flies at him, smacking him in the face and eliciting and muffled, "Oomph!" Not enough to propell him backwards, but his metaphorical feathers are ruffled even more than V'zan's ex-pillow. Pillow? Oh, V'len might be needing this..."Thank you, m'dear," he stammers, the pillow that landed soundly on his chest caught and clutched there. A gift from her? Not to be destroyed and discarded by him, that's for sure. "All that you care to give me, I will accept gratefully," he murmurs his eyes soft as he slides towards her. "I will take it and hold it close and dear." A flicker of his eyes to the floating feathers... not like some, no... Humor twinkling in his eyes, T'irnan sets himself, waiting for the launch of a pillow in his direction. This relaxed, playful atmosphere during a flight is a welcome change from the tension-filled greenflight he was last in. Thoughts not entirely proper float around his mind, and he struggles mightily to force them back, behind that lavender fog-wall that's billowing in, ever at the ready to engulf is thoughts. Only instinct pastes him to the wall for V'zan's passing, only instinct forces his head away and to the side, baring his throat, whole demeanor that of the subordinate. Yet those green eyes never leave Siani's form, and as V'zan-storm passes, he's drawn inexorably closer to the weyrwoman, circling her as a moth circles the flame. Suyinth> Zig-zagging around the open sky plane, Suyinth seems without a care in the world and even without a course of flight as she traipses all about - first here... then there - oft flying too close to each of the pursuers, even letting her tail tip give a quick whap on whomever she draws closest too. It's her game and her rules and despite the carefree and tangled jumble that punctuates her flying, she does seem to have a strangely plotted plan. Siani actually sticks her tongue at at V'zan, announcing, "You're always no fun V'zan. Lighten up..." She ducks behind a chair when the pillow hits R'kan square in the face, chuckling with girlish delight. Peeping through the slats of said chair, she winks at V'len even as she grabs for another round of pillows to send flying across the room, aiming one especially for the wallflower that is T'irnan. Suyinth> Chandioth darts back and forth across the line of suitors, ring around the rosie. Passing a faltering brown, he eeeels his way into a closer position. Unsure of the thermals in these parts, he flies conservatively, holding a reserve against that final, flat-out sprint at the end. The thap of tailtip against his champagne-bubbled chest excites him, entices him, delights him and he croons his admiration to the queen. The King of Romance Bronze pays court to the darkly amber damsel. >> [Sun] Suyinth is all mirth and glee as she sails about the air in her odd patterns, flinging herself to and fro, in and out of the psyches that surround her. Touching, tickling, teasing. So often she would flee from this moment, searching for escape and for freedom but now, something within has changed and freedom has become this very moment. << T'irnan reaches out, snags the pillow headed his way, and uses it's catching to move ever-closer. Under the guise of a few footsteps, he flings the pillow out sidearm, sending it whirling back in the direction from whence it came. It won't strike with a great deal of force, though, since most of its impetus is faded with the whirling flight. Suyinth> Suyinth must obviously be punished for her inappropriate behavior. Striking her master with her tail? What gall and foolishness! Noswaith's steady wingbeats keep him close to the frolicking queen, biding his time and taking note of her lack of proper submissiveness. It has surely been too long since she has been taken in hand and taught to respect and revere her lord, but this bronze is confident that soon he shall rectify this situation and teach Suyinth her place of subservience. Suyinth> Maraith carefully pulls between these competitors, hardly weaving and whirling, but at least making certain that no one's in his way as he barrels his way towards Suyinth, his columbine. A smack lands on his muzzle and his whimper is awkward from a throat of brazen depth, unused to games and plays and cajoling a lover from the air. Sienna temptress' ruses only draws him closer, foresight little enough that he cannot predict the next move: his pieces are placed on a blunt offensive, and doesn't see the golden queen dodging and ducking from a weak-minded pawn. Suyinth> Yevgeth cups the air with his great sails, pulsing forward to offer his obviously needed protection. The lady seems perhaps a bit erratic? Confused? Doesn't she know who it is she is meant for? Protection is obviously needed... and her protection is here. Desire courses through his veins with almost an almost painful pleasure, and as she darts closer to him, he cranes his neck out in an aching need to protect her from those ... others. Those ones who don't see her for the dragon she is... for those ones only wanting to claim her for the pleasure of the moment. The movement breaks his rhythm and he drops back momentarily, but that will be rectified. He is here. She need not fear. >> [Sun] Chandioth is mostly silent, reveling in the flight and the antics of Suyinth. The cinnamon-scent intensifies, though, and underneath it is his unspoken invitation for her to select a mate. << V'zan takes hold of the next fluffly projectile, this time methodically opening it at the seams to expel its contents. Muscles strain as he then begins to carefully tear the pillow's fabric into strips, tying one to the next until a crude rope has been fashioned. "My thanks, Siani. This will certainly come in handy once Noswaith succeeds in capturing your lifemate." R'kan turns to look at V'zan, finally connecting the shredded pillow halves with the feathers flying about. As he does, the second barrage of pillows catches him in the side of the head, but thankfully caught out of the air with a bit more finesse than the first. A girlish giggle that is so trademark of him erupts out, and he lobs one of Siani's missiles back behind the chair--underhand, of course. It's all fun and games until someone loses an eye (though how he'd do that with a pillow R'kan will never guess.) >> [Sun] With cold dispassion and an air of command, Noswaith seeks to command Suyinth. << Cease this useless frivolity and bend wing and knee to your master. You must know that these others are not worthy to possess you, so come to me and take your proper place at my feet. >> << V'len is gifted with yet another pillow? A ridiculously grateful grin crosses his features. "My dear lady. I am honored to receive this token. Rather, these tokens." Pillows are cradled possessively in his arms as he slides even closer to her chair. "Exquisite taste, too. Lovely colors... ah, but not nearly as lovely as you." His eyes register a shocked expression as V'zan starts to build... a rope? He gallantly positions himself between V'zan and the weyrwoman, clearly nervous, but his duty is just as clear. And R'kan is throwing away these tokens? "Does no one appreciate you as I do, Siani?" His voice is shocked, saddened. The tragedy of love and lust. So very sad. Suyinth> Suyinth flings herself downward in sudden, wild dive, calling out a echoing bugle to those following. Dare to follow? Dare to try? Down and down she falls, twirling and rolling again in mid-air, feeling the joy of the currents as they caress her hide, as they call her name. They too want to play in the summer dusk. Tail lashes back and forth in frantic, happy movements and even her taloned toes flex as if touching the cool smoothness of invisible grass. And then.. barely seen... the flicker of tongue. Perhaps tasting unseen lemonade? Siani giggles as she scurries from her pseudo hiding place, catching the force of thrown pillows on her backside as she scuttles to another corner, looking for other projectiles. She seems to almost skip about the large weyr, eyeing V'len for a moment and announcing to him, "You're silly." Ah.. the joys of dragon mating flights. One never knows what one will find buried deep in the back recesses of the mind. >> [Sun] Yevgeth sends out gentle tendrils towards the playful queen. <<You take them so lightly, my dear... but I do not. Worthiness is more in action that being - and while my being is certainly incredible,>> here, he pauses to flash a rather spectacular draconic pose, glinting Rubkat off his hide, <<my actions will prove me. Believe!>> << Suyinth> Noswaith collapses his own wings to his sides with an audible snap, mimicking the groundward spiral. Perhaps the gold's enthusiasm can be contained and channeled... Such playfulness can have its uses, if the gold is appropriately controlled and focused upon pleasing her possessor. Wind whistles past the bronze's flame-brushed hide as talons stretch forth, reaching for the as-yet-unattainable object d'amour, the forbidden fruit, the dark desire that is Suyinth. Suyinth> Chandioth hears her call, her challenge, and though it's not something he's indulged in before, he tucks his wings tightly to his back and follows her, drunk on her splendor. He tightens his spiral, and does a creditable job, for a bronze, of aerobatics; dodging Suyinth's pursuers and working himself ever closer. He, too, revels in the summery air, in the passage of wind along his frame which serves to cool the ichor to a bearable level. Does Siani not see the seriousness of her situation? The precarious nature of the slippery slope she's decending? V'len is here to help! She might see him as silly now, ah, but later? She probably will, too, actually.... T'irnan watches, vulpine grin deepening as Siani takes the bombardment of pillows right on the rear. He can't help the tongue that slides out to moisten his lips, nor can he help the way his body raises itself to resume the stalking of her on the balls of his feet. One hand rides to pull the rounded collar away from his throat and the seam pf the tunic parts with a smooth ripping sound, leaving the collar in his hand. He stares at it, uncomprehending, before letting the claret cloth flutter to the floor of the weyr. Suyinth> Yevgeth is ready. He's daring, dashing and maybe even foolhardy in love. Narrowing his eyes against the rush of wind, he dares it all in dive of complete abandonment for his love. Like a glistening bullet he streaks after her, only stretching out the slightest of wingtips for control in his downward dive. At the last possible moment he pulls up, the drive to possess beating even stronger in each movement. An earsplitting bugle cries out in near desperation. Why does she flee from that which will nourish her? V'zan ignores the continuance of the pillowfight as he heads purposefully toward the loom, rope held loosely in one hand. Ignoring the unfinished tapestry, he instead grips the frame of the loom itself, rattling it to test its sturdiness. "This should do," he mentions to no one in particular, as he begins to tie his makeshift rope to the corners of the frame, smiling to himself all the while. R'kan has disconnected. (Bad net gremlins kidnapped R'kan!) V'len is rather concerned here. These other two... they're really into rending, aren't they? If they do that with fine fabrics, just think what will happen to the lovely weyrwoman in their hands! And the shameful use of a loom? Why that was never covered in any apprentice weaver classes he attended! "Don't worry, m'dear," he breaths softly as he unconciously unfastens his flight jacket, shrugging it off so it lands with a soft thud behind him. "You'll be safe." His eyes flicker again to V'zan and his loom contraption and he gulps, then reaches his hand towards her, stopping a respectful distance away. Siani laughs, letting her voice echo off the stone walls and high ceiling. Her amusement at all is plainly obvious as she dances about the weyr, clutching handfuls of the sarong skirt and kicking out her legs to a rhythm only she seems to hear being played. Releasing the skirt, she opens her arms wide, leans her head back and begins to spin in circles at a dizzying speed. V'zan tugs on the bindings one last time to assure himself that they'll hold, then swivels to face towards V'len. "Mayhaps it's not just Siani who needs protecting, V'len." He runs his tongue along his upper lip before smiling coldly. "I'm sure I could fashion a second rope from another of these pillows." Suyinth> Suyinth tugs herself out of the dive just as the foliage below becomes sharp and clear. Wingsails unfurl, catching gulps of air that propel her upwards, the rest of her body swinging back and forth as she lets herself be carried away, floating toward the gathering of bronzes behind her. She's cradled now, upon the breath of the wind, no longer interested in the game of tag. Now she wants to real playmate to join her. And so.. she waits to see who will join the dance. T'irnan allows himself to be drawn in even closer. The subtle currents in the Weyrwoman's quarters puzzle him. Siani seems to need no protection, no admiration, but he veers around V'zan's mad posturings with the rope nonetheless. Instead, drawing a ragged breath, he whispers "So loverly, m'dear." He reaches out with one hand extended in inviataion. "So very lovely indeed." His green eyes darken and he withdraws a half-step. Suyinth> Chandioth is ready. NOW. He calls on the power in his great body, smoke-streaked bronze wings belling outward, catching and holding the air currents. His jaw drops to drink in the intoxicating scent and taste of gold Suyinth on the wind, and he pushes his way to the front of the pack with the other bronzes, the browns left behind for the nonce. He's ready to play, aye, he is, and he crooks his tail in invitation for the gold to join him in a merry game of love. V'len eyes V'zan, sizing up his bulk against V'len's... unbulk. Still, all these un-understood emotions roil within him, and he stands straighter yet, gulping visibly as he answers, not to V'zan, but to the weyrwoman. "Escape. Be cherished. Be appreciated." He casts his eye again towards the loom and adds ominously, "Not treated like warp and weft. Instead, be gently fashioned into a tapestry of love." So he's corny. He's new at this. He adds a lovesick grin at the end of his pronouncement, his hand still extended. Suyinth> Noswaith can cradle the golden queen far better than any errant breeze. Strong limbs and smooth wingsails all endeavor to strive toward's Suyinth's willing flesh; gladly will he be her dancing partner, provided that he leads the waltz noir. Possessor and possessed: the two shall share a bond deeper than that of passion or love, for only in the exchange of power can true unity be shared. By giving herself freely unto him, Suyinth will rise far beyond any mere pleasures that these other wayward beasts could ever hope to offer her. Submit to his will, welcome his painfully exquisite embrace, and explore a new world of dark temptations. Come to your master, Suyinth; take your rightful place and accept both your punishment and your reward. Suyinth> Yevgeth scoops the wind with his purple tinged wingsails, propelling him closer to the golden one before him. Neck cranes and gentle croonings attempt to woo her as his tail snakes out, reaching to entangle himself with her. He can be a prince, a protector, a safety. Reject him and reject that which is pure and honorable. It's a choice now - between the dark and the light and all shades in between - but the shining hide of Yevgeth is the lightest of all the lights, offering himself in chivalrous submission to the queen before him. Suyinth> Suyinth dances into the protective light of Yevgeth, selecting him as her playmate of this lazy, summer eve. She's tempted by this idea of protection and chivalry. A bronze dragon of good looks, but surely also, he knows how to have fun and play and be silly. If not, she will teach him a thing or two. For now there are more important games to play as golden neck entwines with his, tails twirling as the pair descends together. Suyinth> Chandioth turns on a wingtip and slowly twines downward towards the bowl. Siani spends round and round in circles, erratically moving across the weyr to stop suddenly in front of V'len, falling into a dizzy heap on the floor before her. Her smile is crooked as she holds out her hands to him. "You are still silly," she informs. T'irnan vacates the weyr proper, steps echoing off the stone. V'zan's hands ball up into fists as Noswaith fails in his attempts to claim the queen. "Congratulations, V'len," he snarls through clenched teeth. "Feel free to use the ropes; it seems I won't have need of them currently." Without a further word or backward glance, he stalks off. R'kan has connected. Suyinth> Noswaith growls in muted rage and disappointment at being denied his rightful property, before turning aside and heading off to sulk and nurse his ego. V'len will be a fool for love. Hey, he's a fool anyway. It might as well be for a purpose. With that ridiculous grin, he reaches out to claim the weyrwoman, daring a challenging look to the departing others before turning to the woman before him. V'zan vacates the weyr proper, steps echoing off the stone. R'kan vacates the weyr proper, steps echoing off the stone. Siani rises unsteadily (and still a bit dizzily) to her feet, stepping into V'len's arms. To be claimed and cherished for this moment by the bronzerider. Her silly, sideways smile softens into something sweeter, more feminine as the shared dragon emotions wash over her. [Log Ends] Back to Fort Weyr Logs |