Rouxy
Cerulean Weyr Staff
Rouxy of the Jungle
Posts: 345
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Post by Rouxy on Nov 15, 2010 10:05:06 GMT -5
Ha hah! He was on time, for once! A late lunch had caught him in the Main Hall when the call to gather came up, and Zan couldn't help the smug sense of satisfaction that filled him as he sauntered up the single set of stairs to the candidate’s quarters. It all left in a rush though as he passed a pile of rubble, leftovers from where one of the tunnels had collapsed under the onslaught. There was a mood-breaking thought. The attack had left so many wounded, and several dead. The ex-dolphineer had needed to make several trips -out- of the Hall and sands while the cleanup took place, just to breath air not tainted with the acrid smell of blood and death. He’d kept down his stomach, he was proud to say, even when shoveling the bloodied sand from the hatching grounds to replace it with clean beach sand.
Quickly changing into his candidate robes when he reached his shared quarters, he found Angel asleep in her favorite box of shiny objects, things he’d found for her to keep her occupied for brief periods of time, from shells, ribbons and beads to colorful rocks and small pieces of inexpensive jewelry. She always enjoyed rummaging through every single piece to see if he’d dropped in anything new for her, and even her wildly active and incredibly short attention span could be captured by the treasure box for a while as she dug through the trinkets. Deciding she was best left alone, for she would certainly follow him if he woke her, Zan very carefully placed a glass bead of a wonderful bright blue color right next to her nose where she’d see it when she woke. She was his bright spark, and nothing could make him upset for long when she was around, as he was hopelessly in love with the delightful little green and probably was spoiling her to an awful degree.
Happier at least to a degree, the candidate made it to the sands, glad to see that there was no evidence of the attack on the sands other than the noted absence of the Weyrwoman. He’d attempted to make up to the Weyr and the late Weyrwoman for his lapse in good judgment by throwing himself bodily into the cleanup and promising himself to his now acknowledged home. He wouldn’t ever allow indecision and weakness to make him pause again.
If anything good had come of the attack, it was a newfound friend in the person of Keiko, the girl who’d moved him to act. Adorable, flouncy little girl that she was, Zan couldn’t help but adore her. It was something similar to what he found absolutely charming in Angel, a propensity for mischief and different-ness overlaid with abounding energy. She’d practically clung to him since then, and he’d welcomed the unexpected attention, surprising even himself. He typically wasn’t for clingy females (or males for that matter) but it was more of a … little sister thing, and despite never actually having a little sister, he couldn’t bring himself to dislike it.
Waving to the girl even as she noticed him, he beamed a grin at her, then focused on the eggs that were beginning to move. A bronze popped out first, and he was suddenly excited, as he hadn’t been since his first hatching! It impressed, and then dragons began popping out all over the place! A startlingly dark brown, a minty green and more, all impressing without incident until the horrible mutant hatched from the largest egg on the sands. He found himself abruptly in its charging path, slammed solidly across the chest by a wing and staggering back as it passed in a flurry of mismatched limbs. It was only after it had betweened that he felt the sting of a cut on his cheek. Ouch. Holding a hand to his lungs, which ached with each breath now, he stepped back up to the line and continued waiting, now ready to move should another hatchling come charging his way. Seems he’d forgotten the most important thing about hatchings, that one should always be on their toes. He’d learned the lessons for the second time and wouldn’t let it be done again.
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Rouxy
Cerulean Weyr Staff
Rouxy of the Jungle
Posts: 345
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Post by Rouxy on Nov 11, 2010 7:08:47 GMT -5
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Rouxy
Cerulean Weyr Staff
Rouxy of the Jungle
Posts: 345
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Post by Rouxy on Nov 11, 2010 6:54:42 GMT -5
ALCOHOLIC CAKE!!!!!!!!!! RAWR!!! It has KRAKEN!!!! Release the Caken!!!!!
... I'm sorry, it was too good to let go of XD I was all a-giggle
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Rouxy
Cerulean Weyr Staff
Rouxy of the Jungle
Posts: 345
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Post by Rouxy on Nov 4, 2010 9:01:29 GMT -5
Glad he'd been accepted so readily, he had just reached the clutch to touch the eggs when the alarms began rising over the Weyr. Shardit, what was happening? First that clutchmother of Angel arrives to chatter in Trith's face -something Zan was certain he'd never do to the proddy gold- and then another dragon shouting about other dragons and suddenly a lot of dragons swept over the cliff from the ocean, cutting through Cerulean dragons like they were chaff. Horrified, the ex-dolphineer watched as dragons went between as their riders were crushed by the falling bulks of their comrades. It was madness!
Then the enemy -and that's how he'd think of them always now- dropped people to the sands and suddenly the candidates were in the thick of it. He saw some rush forward while others rushed back. Torn between a very real desire to stay alive, and an unbidden surge of loyalty that wasn't there before, Zan moved back a bit until he was within the clutch itself. This wasn't his fight. He was here only because of his brother. It wasn't his home... he couldn't be expected to defend it to the death like some of the others. But then he saw one of the other candidates, a cute girl hiding as he was among the clutch. Keiko, he remembered. She suddenly launched herself at one of the attackers, that small scrap of a girl, and Zan felt ashamed for one of the first times in his life. Ashamed that the much smaller girl could eventually bring herself to fight when he, no weakling and a man at that, lacked the courage to do the same. A heavy scowl came to his features, and his hand found the dagger at his hip, a gift from a father who thought his current occupation a worthless waste of time.
He was suddenly on his feet, his eyes on Keiko, and Angel, the beautiful little darling, appeared out of nowhere to join the battle at his side, calling in flitters with a sharp command to protect Hers. She curled around his neck, and placed her eyes on his back as if they'd rehearsed it. Drawing the dagger, he raced into the fray trailing a line of firelizards drawn in by the bitter sweet chattering of the green on his shoulder. A sudden urge to protect filled him as he saw another attacker going for the small girl, and he launched forward with a roar, his dagger flashing as he caught the downwards swing of the enemy sword a glancing blow off the side of his hilt, effectively turning the blow which would have harmed her. He followed the wild-eyed man's swing with one of his own, darting low and slicing deep with a lightning quick swipe. The man hardly seemed to notice the blood dashing to the sands as he continued the attack, the air around him wild with flitters trying to get at him.
*****
Dackt sidestepped a blow with ease, his face all a-scowl. What in Faranth's name had happened to the peaceful Weyr he'd tried to join? He'd seen runner stations with less movement and chaos. The attacker before him faltered back, the blow with the butt end of his whip falling wide as the smaller youth used the opportunity to step inside his defense and quickly snag the attacker's arm, pivoting on his heel as he threw the man bodily against the ground, the resounding cracking noise a clear indicator that he was unlikely to get up again.
Snagging the whip, Dackt swore aloud and colorfully yet again that he didn't have his weapons with him other than two throwing knives. He'd gotten used to being able to handle whatever situation arose without needing more. Little scuffles and the like. This was no scuffle, it was all out war. The man at his feet actually tried to get up and Dackt quickly reached for his head, jerking fiercely with an audible snap as he broke the neck.
Taking a note from his previous attacker, Dackt swung the unfamiliar weapon butt-end first and clubbed two nearby men with enough force to momentarily stun them. His smaller size wasn't an advantage in this fight, where dragging an opponent down would work best, but he made do as he launched for the back of one, the hidden compartment in his larger knife open and a silvery wire drawn taught between the knife handle and a smaller piece. He quickly tightened the garrote wire around the man's neck, cutting off his air and crushing his windpipe with almost cruel efficiency.
*****
Gareth was beyond enraged. He eyes were red pools of hate as he roared at the male forcing the queen to the sands. Rising to his hind feet to dispatch the brown who thought to get in his way, a bronze flash did the favor for him as the brown did so ungainly a thing as tumble end over end away from the clutch and nearly to the cliff edge. Seeing the way clear, the bronze leapt forward, his intentions clear.
K'roi was on the sands as the first attackers swarmed forward, weaponless. He was no fighter, but by Faranth, he would show these fiends that they wouldn't get what they wanted without a fight! He saw Samhara to his side, disarming an attacker and claiming his sword for her own. He gave her a victorious shout and then focused on the closest attacker, a man with a viciously spiked club. Dodging the first wild swing, he came in low and shot an uppercut to the man's jaw, his attention on getting the club for his own use. Another solid punch, and he was able to wrench the club out of his hand and finish the job with it. Hefting it experimentally, he was caught by surprise from behind as a line of pain blossomed over his left shoulder, another club catching him on the collar. Dropping to his knees from the sudden intense pain, he swung wildly behind him with his own club and caught his assailant at the knees, effectively halting any further attack as the man's leg shattered.
Sakki appeared from between, screaming her rage at any who would -dare- injure Hers! She launched herself at the face of the man who'd already gone down, adding her claw marks to his injuries and calling more flitters to her aid. Out of the corner of his eye, K'roi caught sight of Tess catching a club along her side, and Samhara taking a stab wound, and suddenly he was back at Silver Cove, watching Ruvna die as she fell from their weyrledge. Giving a strangled cry, he struggled to his feet and launched at the nearest, Tess, only to find that she'd dispatched her attacker before he reached her and had started dragging a candidate away from the fighting. Good, she'd be safer there, if safe weren't such a relative term at the moment. His left arm hung limp and caused pain with every move -dislocated maybe- he thought in a distracted way, and Gareth's sudden cry made him pause. The agony through their bond was magnified as the bronze attacking Trith turned his attention on Gareth, who jolted to the side like something heavy had impacted into his ribs.
Panting, K'roi could only send a warning as the other bronze took aim with his claws, and was just as suddenly flung back in a mess of wings and tail like a toy as something unseen landed him a blow. Whirling to find this new source of assistance, a familiar blue form crouched by the edge of the sands away from the fighting, his normally placid eyes whirling with red. Jaxith, sent by his rider and heavily against leaving him, was exerting his telekinetic skill -for- Cerulean in a way he never had before. The bronze wanted to abuse his abilities, then two could play that game. However, it was all the blue could do to keep the bronze back, and the slightest distraction would cause his concentration to break.
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Rouxy
Cerulean Weyr Staff
Rouxy of the Jungle
Posts: 345
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Post by Rouxy on Oct 30, 2010 6:21:04 GMT -5
It was a long night of healing that had S'lain tucked into bed mid-day, sound asleep. Even a couple of days after, the attack had left everyone shaken and not a small number injured. Thankfully, they'd finally finished sewing up the last person, but it had been a grueling three days. Now, apprentice healers and assistants were taking over watching the injured while the main healers were taking a well needed rest. They were still on call of course, but that was the life of a healer. The bluerider had spent nearly the whole night patching a dragon wing in the tiny stitches that would encourage the skin to grow back together without damaging the green's ability to fly. Jaxith was there throughout it all of course, but a dragon's endurance for the kinds of things the blue did to help with healing was much greater than that of a mere human.
Even then, the big blue lay sunning on his ledge, relaxing as he drifted into the soothing feelings he received from His while sleeping. He was soul weary, if not bone weary, and the toll the days had taken from His was transferring itself over through their bond. The evil of the attack had impressed itself on all the dragons of the Weyr it seemed. Suddenly he perked his great head up, whirling eyes focused on the horizon. A female. A green, fresh as the morning on her first Flight sent her call across the land to bring her males in. Turning a look on his sleeping rider, the blue decided it might be good for both of them if he chased this young beauty, if for no other reason than it was a diversion, and a lovely one at that. Who knew what might happen to make His a little more happy.
Stretching his long form, Jaxith swept both wings wide as he made ready to jump, while he felt the stirrings of wakefulness in his rider's mind. Leaping from the ledge without another thought, he strengthened the bond until His would know exactly what was happening. Jaxi... you're chasing? Now? Yes, I chase. Maybe you should find someone to curl up with. An image of a certain long haired healer was passed along the link, and S'lain sat up abruptly in bed, his mouth wide at the blue's implication. "You conniving little sneak! You're doing this to hook me up!?" Despite being said outloud, the blue had heard, and smug satisfaction leaked back through their bond. Cursing all meddling dragons back to the first egg, the dragonhealer couldn't decide if he wanted to lock his door, or head to the flight rooms. A glance across the room, however, told him that Jaxith had -already- locked his door before leaving. Smug arse of a blue. Fine, he'd just wait it out. He was -certainly- not going to go looking for a flight moth. Or anyone else.
Jaxith soared over the landscape, voicing his own joining of the Flight with a bugle, but otherwise silent as the others were not. He was content to show his mettle in the Flight rather than with flashy phrases. He did send supreme appreciation for the lovely Dalisth like a brush against her mind. Catching some of the upwards winds off the sea, he began spiraling beneath her, following her movement like a shadow a hundred feet further down.
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Rouxy
Cerulean Weyr Staff
Rouxy of the Jungle
Posts: 345
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Post by Rouxy on Oct 29, 2010 8:41:12 GMT -5
He was only a little late, but shardit all, running all the way from the docks took forever! Maybe he would benefit from choosing a profession that had him working nearer to the hatching sands until the clutch was impressed and done. If nothing else, it would keep him from appearing wet and bedraggled whenever he wanted to go somewhere fast. He'd just barely thrown on the white robes over his salt-marked body before dashing on, his wet pants underneath and moist sandals getting even wetter as he dripped onto them.
Zanalorin took his place as the last Candidate bowed, and added his own flourished bow to the line, his eyes averted from the huge golden form. "Lady Trith, mistress Weyrwoman, please forgive my arrival, but I would be happy and glad if given the chance to touch your precious eggs." He would ignore the tiniest part of himself that saw those eggs as an ill omen. They were eggs, and they held dragons. That was all he should care about, and all he'd show to the younglings and their great mother.
Rising from the bow, he waited to be acknowledged whether for good or bad, and was suddenly relieved when yet another candidate appeared later than he. An older candidate than even him, if Zan was any judge of male aging. That probably put him at the end of the age bracket for impression, and he felt a small pang of sympathy for the other latecomer. Probably his last stand then. Well, good luck to them all, right?
*****
Blast that V'taph, shard and blast him! Snarling did no good, but it made him feel better. He'd never met a man so utterly intent on having his way. The unfortunate thing, was that 'his way' meant Dackt was forced to do everything a real candidate did. He was certain the brownrider got some kind of perverse satisfaction out of seeing him squirm through chores and attend things like the touching. Punishment for getting caught, he was sure. Well soon as things settled and the clutch was over he'd give up the charade and move on to different things. Provided he was allowed to!
He'd been -this- close to missing the Touching, but like a fool, he'd waited in the -candidate quarters- where he could be easily found by his tormentor. He could just remember the imagined or not sense of glee he got from the rider when he'd been dragged down the halls, up stairs, and practically shoved out the door nearest the hatching sands. Turning to flee, V'taph had stopped him with a statement. "If you run, the big ones might eat you for disrespect. You heard the bronze." Then had grinned (rather maliciously in his opinion) and turned to walk back inside without another word.
Now, slowly turning to the gathered crowd of dragons, candidates and other people, Dackt allowed himself another brief scowl before tucking his annoyance away behind a grin, altering his appearance to one of welcome and enjoyment. Having never attended a candidate class in all his training days, he followed behind a much taller youth, and mimicked what he did. Requesting permission, eh? He could do that. Sketching a bow to the queen, the long-haired youth tried to pull out something eloquent on the fly.
"Sorry for getting here a little late. Can I ..caress your eggs?" Yeah, smooth. They'd never suspect he was anything but an idiot. He could have slapped himself with how ridiculous he'd sounded just then. "Please, great queen." He added for good measure. Better, but still awkward. Well, maybe they'd chock it up to his nerves and youth and the fact that he arrived late.
*****
Gareth watched from a greater distance than he really wanted to, perched near the back end of the queen's couch. He had to remind himself that he wasn't the father of the clutch, and that he was only given the courtesy of being as close as he was to Trith by virtue of being with her through the last clutching. Which hadn't been his either. It seemed fate was conspiring against him insofar as fathering clutches was concerned. A depressing thought for the bronze, who loved all his children.
His rider perched near the Weyrwoman, his arms lightly crossed as he watched the proceedings. K'roi felt the bronze's saddened mood, and its transference to him made him a little more dour on a day when he should have been happy. But he'd felt too much of Gareth's rage and utter sadness at what had happened to Trith during her Flight, and the big bronze still felt partially responsible for the fact that he'd been unable to do anything. No amount of coaxing or soothing would ease him until he worked himself through it, and now, simply being near the queen who was clearly on the mend was doing more for him than anything.
K'roi tried to not react as Tess suddenly made an appearance, dragging a candidate of all things onto the sands. Curious about the boy, but far more interested in the healer, he kept his face and stance carefully neutral so he wouldn't betray other emotions. After the grief of the Flight had ended, a more subtle type of remorse had filled him at what might have happened between them. Unsure as to which of them had been avoiding the other, or if it was just Weyr business that had kept him out of the infirmary, the bronzerider felt in himself a tiny sense of being flustered. Bah, he wasn't some teenager to stumble over words or emotions. This was supposed to be old hat to a rider of his age.
Smiling when she got closer, he loosened his arms and let them drop to his sides. "Morning Tess. Touching seems to be proceeding well." Yeah, keep them on easy, comfortable talking ground. Then neither of them would have the opportunity to feel embarrassed if something deeper came up in conversation accidentally.
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Rouxy
Cerulean Weyr Staff
Rouxy of the Jungle
Posts: 345
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Post by Rouxy on Oct 28, 2010 17:18:04 GMT -5
Woooow, I really like, Thorne! I may have to borrow some of your editing themes. :3
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Rouxy
Cerulean Weyr Staff
Rouxy of the Jungle
Posts: 345
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Post by Rouxy on Oct 27, 2010 20:56:43 GMT -5
Why is my name in bold? I said nothing about the images
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Rouxy
Cerulean Weyr Staff
Rouxy of the Jungle
Posts: 345
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Post by Rouxy on Oct 23, 2010 21:58:01 GMT -5
THE END!!!!!
(for now) Dun dun DUUUUUUUN!
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Rouxy
Cerulean Weyr Staff
Rouxy of the Jungle
Posts: 345
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Post by Rouxy on Oct 23, 2010 20:15:51 GMT -5
Well, he can't help it that he's so darn good lookin
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Rouxy
Cerulean Weyr Staff
Rouxy of the Jungle
Posts: 345
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Post by Rouxy on Oct 23, 2010 20:12:40 GMT -5
Whaaaat? Poor K'roi, set upon on all sides!!!
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Rouxy
Cerulean Weyr Staff
Rouxy of the Jungle
Posts: 345
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Post by Rouxy on Oct 23, 2010 20:07:40 GMT -5
Hey! He was a little caught up in the horror of the situation! I can't help it that he doesn't want to be weyrleader anymore. It's his decision
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Rouxy
Cerulean Weyr Staff
Rouxy of the Jungle
Posts: 345
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Post by Rouxy on Oct 23, 2010 20:01:39 GMT -5
It's all Kira's fault!!
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Rouxy
Cerulean Weyr Staff
Rouxy of the Jungle
Posts: 345
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Post by Rouxy on Oct 23, 2010 19:54:45 GMT -5
Maybe. >>
Tess has the equivalent in female terms though >3
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Rouxy
Cerulean Weyr Staff
Rouxy of the Jungle
Posts: 345
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Post by Rouxy on Oct 23, 2010 19:47:11 GMT -5
Gasp! He did nooot! >> You're bad Kira! XD
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