| Conversation with M'er |
| 06/01/2002 Logfile from Harpers-Tale M'er A slightly chubby face has been exchanged for a more boldly defined jaw line, thinner lips, and even a larger hawk-like nose. Set by this rather pale face are two large orbs, both a brilliant azure in hue. Long lashes shadow protectively over, and rather bushy eyebrows are arched above. A final height has finally been reached, somewhere around a tall stance of six-foot-4-inches. Long limbs, long legs; he can be described as nothing more than gangling and awkward. Yet, the ever-present childishness reeks its infernal presense around him, always. Another change calls for another attire, yet again. Orange and black; his weyrling uniform is shown proudly, the colors of the Weyr. A simple orange tunic, a bit soiled in places, due to themany tasks of a day for his lifemate. His pants are as all other ones were: patched with dirt. No, he isn't the best at caring for his clothes. Boots are present, as well, cumbersome and adding awkwardness to his already gangling features. Jua is upon whatever free limb she can find on M'er, her eyes whirling with content and playful azure. A simple knot -- though it is different from the stark white of the Candidate's knot. This knot is one of the Weyrling's; a simple loop consisting of orange and black. He is awake and looks alert. Carrying: Jua M'er is 18 Turns and 27 days old. Suith Silvery sprays shimmer up and down her form as webbing ripples that flash and wane only to swirl and eddy restlessly in the grip of a marine's stormy green. Siren's beguiling allure exists in the bathyl depths that darken her belly's curve, rich and fathomless to submerge her slim tail. Warm, turquoise oceans inundate her svelte form, drenching sails and spars before cascading with liquid grace over the low swell of her muscles, then to plash against the thalassic wave of her ridges. Sunset's gleam turns the shore's sand to gold along the bridge of her aquiline head, kissed with the horizon's rosy blush, and left to the wiles of sea's encroaching tide. A well-oiled pair of riding straps are fastened to Suith's neck. Suith is 6 months and 4 days old. She is 20 feet (6m) long, with a wingspan of 33 feet (11m). Suith seems to be listening. Kazra Kazra stands tall at her final height of 5'8. Brown hair sweeps back off her face, but there is a new addition to it. Twined among the brown strads are quite a few colourful ribbons, white, red, blue, green and purple. Falling neatly down her back, they reach to her shoulders, giving Kazra's hair a new, colourful look. A small band of leather holds the ribbons and the hair back out of her sparkling blue eyes. Long legs taper upwards to a thin waist, broadening out only slightly to her upper body. Arms are slender and well formed, often gesticulating a point. Kazra has changed her outfit along with her name, now sporting a vivid orange short sleeved top and a pair of black trousers. Her feet are covered with ankle length black boots that look rather worn, though sometimes Kazra kicks them off to wander around barefooted. Peeping out from Kazra's hair is Pyxis. Kazra wears the orange and black knot of an Ista Weyr Weyrlings, with a thin ribbon of brown trailing through it to indicate her lifemate. She is awake and looks alert. Carrying: Pyxis You notice Kazra looking at you. Kazra is 24 Turns and 20 days old. Xylyth Rich shades of soil encompass this brown's towering and imposing form completely, intermingling to form fresh shades and fathoms of earthiness where they fuse. Pale coffee tones spill over an angular muzzle and face seemingly carved from the earth, so fine is their detail, before giving way to muddy colourings that diffuse over well built shoulders and stomach, sleek muscle visible beneath silky hide, finally darkening to almost midnight shades at sweeping wings. Woven into these depths of night, as if by unseen magic, tendrils of deepest aubergine thread their way across the tautly spread membrane, surfacing to form cryptic symbols of colour then disappearing from view once more in a ritualistic dance of hide and seek. Continuing the rhythmic flow of colours, cinnamon and chocolate mix and intermingle over powerful back legs, while hints of gold seep into the shade of a perfectly formed tail. Xylyth's first set of straps are at first apperance, simple well oiled leather, fitting in all the right places. But on closer inspection, Kazra looks to have gone strange with a needle, and purple designs twist and turn in mystical and random patterns. Running down the centre of each strap, above the purple stitching are three thin threads of black, blue and orange, almost invisible against the brown leather unless you look closely. Looks like Kazra's sewing skills are improving. Xylyth is 6 months and 5 days old. He is 33 feet (11m) long, with a wingspan of 55 feet (18m). Xylyth senses Kazra looking at him. Xylyth seems to be listening. Northeastern Bowl The northeastern arc of the Weyr Bowl seems somewhat isolated from the rest of the weyr - with necessity, for this is the training grounds for young riders and dragons, the Weyrlings. The main entrance to the weyrling barracks is just north of here, and the ground there is well-trampled and firm, as if many feet, both human and dragon, have wandered over it dozens of times a day. Further up in the northwest corner of the bowl is the waterfall, tumbling out of the Weyr face several dragonlengths above, misting the area in a rainbow glow. On the south side of the bowl lie the ashpits and firestone supplies for the entire Weyr. It is a spring before dawn. Gliding about are Bubbly, Overture, Typhoon, and Astet. Green Misumith, blue Lazeth, blue Riyth, bronze Bydelth, brown Xylyth, and green Suith are here. You see Flamer Charging Unit here. M'er is here. Obvious exits: Barracks Pool Path Central Bowl Kazra is sprawled out over the ground beside Xylyth's tail, her head resting on the tail in question. Xylyth is intently watching something that apparently only he can see, but the exit of M'er and Suith is noted, and Xylyth rumbles a greeting to his clutchsib. Kaz raises her head form her prone position. "Good day to you Weyrling M'er." she says with a salute. See, she's being a good weyrling, even though she's partially comatose. Formalitiess over, she grins. "And how are you and Suith today?" Xylyth thinks to you, << I bespoke Suith with: Xylyth stirs, fronds of green reaching out in greeting with the scent of the forest trailing in thin strands about his words. <<Morning.>> is said in a soft tone, the word languid and drawn out. >> M'er is a good Weyrling, too. A salute -- informal, but none the less a salute -- is given to Kazra and Xylyth. A smile takes to his lips, and he nods jovially. "Good day, indeed. And, I'm fine. Suith is freshly oiled, and she doesn't want to eat. Says it'll make her fat." With a sigh, the greenling prods an all too obvious lump, where her ribs show through the tuquoise skin. "Silly girl." Xylyth senses Suith answers with her own style: a stream's gentle waves run through your head as she greets , << Morning to you, too! >> A pause, where waves seem to recede, softly lapping a beach in your mind you hadn't known about. A far off storm can be seem coming, though it's far enough away to batten down the hatches. << M'er says I'm too skinny! How wrong is that? I'll get fat if I eat /too/ much. >> And then, blues and teals recede completely, leaving you back to your own colors. Kazra decides that sitting up might be a good idea and props herself up against Xylyth's tail. "Glad to hear that you're both well." she says, before peering at the green. "Fat? I shouldn't think so. Once we start to fly, then the weight'll drop off, not that she has much on her." And Kaz isn't trying to be critical, just objective. "Not meaning that nastily or anything." she adds, just to make herself clear. She decides that it might be better to change the subject. "Been mounted yet?" Xylyth senses M'er looking at him. Xylyth thinks to you, << I bespoke Suith with: Xylyth answers with a malachite sweep of of consternation, and the trickle of a stream becomes more audible <<You? Fat? No. A vision in green you are my lovely.>> And who's been listening to other conversations then? <<Neither too thin, or to fat.>> And slowly the stream returns to quiesense again. >> Suith gives one of those charming smiles -- Kazra comfused her, no doubt, but she'll go with how she said about the green ebing skinny. And how to drop those nasty danglish pounds. "Don't tell her how to lose weight -- I don't want her to become a skeleton." A chuckle as the green cranes her neck over to nudge the boy. "And... eh once. Suith is bony. But, I guess, that's what straps help." A smiles. "I can't wait until we actually get to mound for flight. I have the perfect color for straps." Redocating, already? Xylyth senses Suith pushes a brook's laughter through your mind, turquoise and blue enveloping your mind again. << Why thank you, dear Xylyth. You should knock some sense into mine. Honestly, he's trying to fatten me up! >> Suddenly, it's changed. A warm bath, calming and serene. << But, on another note. How have you been, dear sibling? >> "And to think before I came here I couldn't sew that well." Kazra says, slightly in memories, mostly as a comment. "Now its mostly all that we seem to do. There was the robes, and now the straps." What colour?" she then asks, switching back and forth through the conversation. Xylyth briefly turns his head to examine the Kazra draped across his tail, before he turns to look at M'er. Valanth ambles lanquidly out of the barracks. Xylyth thinks to you, << I bespoke Suith with: Xylyth agrees with viridian, spirals of brown mingling their way in as well. <<We have been good>> is the reply. <<And yourself?>> >> M'er has disconnected. M'er tries with zeal to stay awake, but can't do it. Watch out. He snores! [Monitor] M'er has disconnected at Sun Jan 6 11:27:08 2002 CST Valanth Rushes of pure azure stream calmly from elongated tail to petite muzzle, rippling delicately among the bumps and ridges that line the journey from this blue's neck, down along his back to the tip of his tail. Peace and serenity joyride until the frothy foams give way to the deep and chilling river rapids that form the aqua of his body as a whole. Swirling spheres mar each of his flanks, whirlpools warping his colours to new depths of tone, lilac laced into watery blues. But as the current softens back along his wings after the fierce excursion through the gauntlet, the tint lessens almost to a near film of ice, clear as the sky above and calm as a summer's day. Pure bright startling white glares cheerfully against the azure ripples of this young dragons neck. Each carefully placed stitch is alternated from light blue to dark blue mind you only you'll notice if looking closely for it almost blends with the dragons hide marring the lines between straps and body. Securely fastened into the light silverish blue buckles the straps are fitted snugly. Valanth is 6 months and 5 days old. He is 25 feet (8m) long, with a wingspan of 41 feet (13m). Valanth seems to be listening. **disconnected here as no-one was posing and I needed to find food** |