Gossip Girl


Alara.jpg T'ryn.jpg L'han.jpg J'cobi.jpg

Also Starring (NPC & Player): F'lan & Bronze Bruleth (Rocio), Z'kaz & Brown Nalinoth (Ciara) D'lin & Bronze Ergith (L'han)

Date: July 03, 2010
Location: Feeding Pens / Ground Weyr
Synopsis: The Senior Flight. Fight, gossip, flight.
Rating: PG Language and Sexual themes.
Logger: Alara

It's a warm summer evening, and the sky is full of strange stars. At least that's what Alara thinks as she sits out on her ledge. Rauzath silently makes her way to the feeding pens, and Alara pulls her knees up to her chest as she gazes up to the sky. At this point in her life, she's just glad to have the process begin. "Mmm-hmm…" She responds audibly to her gold, lowering her gaze to watch her sparkling hide soar over across the bowl to the pens.

It is really a very nice evening, especially for a certain greenrider and dragon as the latter sits dismantling her kill for the evening near the pens. I say dismantling yes because she is methodically picking her kill apart and discarding anything she doesn't want to the side. L'han watches her from nearby with amusement as he calls, "Stop playing with your food dear and finish up would you?" The greenrider chuckles as she continues on like so and he turns to look up into the sky, only to spot the gold heading his way. "Oh shell." The dragon looks up at her rider's surprise as she quickly picks up her kill and pads to a safe distance away from the pens. L'han runs to join her… just in case.

Bruleth has been watching. Newly arrived at the Weyr, he's been cognizant of the pheromones wafting from the golds, both, and his affable attention for Rauzath has come in the forms of politely-vacated positions of sunning, of a killed herdbeast surrendered with lowered head and delighted gaze. The other gold was the beneficiary of a small army of hide-scrubbers, when she came to bathe at the same time that Bruleth did. Here and now, however, the beast does not share. Not with the other bronzes. And what had previously been glittering blue, slowly spinning eyes, has become sordid red, hollow with purples as he sets to his own purpose - to catch and kill and blood.

J'cobi stands with his arms folded across his chest, hands clasping his side with white-knuckled intensity. He watches the sizable bronze, Erikath, with the expression of someone who has seen this before - and does not like it. He's not so much disgusted as irritated, pacing back and forth from time to time as Erikath drinks deeply from the mutilated jugular of a fallen herdbeast. The bronzerider never takes his eyes off the dragon, staring intensely.

Nalinoth has been waiting, watching, a silent observer of both glowing golds. Patience pays off, finally, and when Rauzath is the one to make her way to the feeding pens, the male is ready. Unfurling large wings, the well-sized brown doesn't so much jump as fall off his ledge, gliding down from its position midway up the bowl's side and coming to an abrupt stop in the pens. His forward momentum is put to use tackling a herdbeast that's already getting nervous from the glowing gold's proximity, all but flattening it. His dark red eyes focus on her as he ducks to drink from the animal beneath his claws. Where Z'kaz is is yet to be seen.

"I'm moving. moving.." muttered out from the rider currently taking the stairs at a disjointed pace. This part was always the hardest, that keen waiting right before the moment. Still T'ryn is making his way up to the ledge, though there is no quick drop off of the brown.
Ockath, himself remains in the feeding pens. His dark eyes flicking up as as he stops from his kill. Of course there is no meat that's been broken-just the good font of blood, which he's been drinking from. A rake of tongue over teeth, before he is drinking down- quicker perhaps? The brown has a jump on the ball- and as he bloods, those dark eyes take on that darker hue. Hurry it up seems to be on order for both.

Erigth, a small sized bronze, drops from his ledge down to the pens where he lands amongst the beasts once he spotted the gold on her way. It was getting to be about that time and he snares one of the scared herdbeasts and snaps it's neck, drinking deep from the font of blood offered by the dying animal. D'lin, the rider, makes his way on towards where Alara would likely be muttering, "Getting us up at this hour, you'd better catch her, my friend."

Rauzath begins to blood her kill, fairly burying her muzzle in the thick, red liquid. It splatters everywhere, including just over the fence, and on to the bronzerider gazing stoically across it. She lifts her gaze, bugling loudly at the males. « Oi, you losers, keep away! » Her mental tones contain the hisses of angry felines, and the galloping sounds of the runners in the caverns nearby. Keep away. Stay far, far away. She lowers her head, draining it dry, pulling only slightly toward the meat before she rumbles in discontent and attacks another beast.
Alara, sitting on the ledge and rocking back and forth, notices T'ryn coming up the stairs. "Ther. Hi." She gives a small smile, and then gazes back out. "Just the blood, luv. Just the blood."

Erikath bows his head in the direction of Rauzath, flattening himself a little towards the ground with every sign of reverence to her. « Of course, » he says, head bowed as the sounds of trumpets warming up accompany his mind voice, « As you wish. » All the same, the dragon continues to drink down the blood with gusto.

J'cobi turns his head slightly as he's splashed with blood, although he does not flinch nor recoil in horror. He instead lifts a hand to wipe a particularly viscous deposit from his eyes and continues to watch the display in silence.

Escaeth and her rider watch from the sidelines as the herd pens become a massacre as dragon after dragon drop in to get their fill of blood. The dragon drops her kill to watch silently before she dips her head to nudge her rider. "Yes yes, I may be slightly disappointed girl that I'll never get to be Weyrleader, but I'm still happy with you. Never worry." He rubs her snout as it's close by as they just return to silently watching Rauzath and company get their blood, but Escaeth has some words for the gold. « Fly well, queen. They should thoroughly work to be the first in this place. »

"Hey, La." comes T'ryn's response as he comes and pops a squat. Not entirely sitting, but rather staying there crouched by. One hand coming up to itch just under his eye, rubbing along the smooth black lines there. And eyes move to intently watch his friend of several Turns. And hands begin to fidget. Waiting is the hardest part.
Ockath seems to pay no mind as he drains his beast, and already he is stirring. Talons scraping along as the hisses come from the gold and pulse along the line. « Hrpmh..» grunted along mentally as wings unfurl. his own voice has that rumble of rocks shifting and falling-the sound of the earth moving and waking up. At the sound of the next beast to be blooded, he shifts. He could blood another, though he's started early. No. He'll wait and spring.

The newest bronze to the Weyr infuses dusty lilac into weather-worn words, « Does not work that way, dear Queen. » A sensation of the sonic aftershock of distant thunder, without any particular noise, accompanies the mind-thought. Bruleth tilts his regard over the other bronzes, and for a moment, the green on the sidelines. He'll flare up and slash out burnt pinions to clear space for himself, before he'll round his study back on the gold.

Lost. F'lan is /lost/ and evidently too many turns as a watchrider on the edge of Boll has made the man a bit soft. Bruleth's rider jaunts along, over in the wrong bowl, looking for where the goldrider's ledge might be. "Be handy, you oaf, if you'd just /ask/!" That's hollared in the direction of the feeding pens as the bronzerider begins a systematic search. "It'd be /just/ bloody like you to win a stupid flight and not tell me where the woman is!"

Nalinoth finishes draining his beast and shifts to take down a second, again watching Rauzath while he drinks. He doesn't respond to the gold's words, simply closing his wings against his back so that he looks slightly smaller. Z'kaz appears from the far end of the bowl and trots over at speed, sweat on his pale brow. "Why've you gotta chase now?" The short young man mumbles as he makes his way to the pens, grimacing at the sight of Rauzath making a mess.

Erigth finishes draining his beast and sets upon another, licking the blood from it with gusto, but his eyes are kept firmly locked on Rauzath, waiting for the tell tale of her wings that she's getting ready to fly. At her words the bronze simply replies, « I would never disturb your space, my lady. » D'lin reaches Alara's ledge, she getting a nod from the bronzerider as he finds an appropriate wall to lean against, T'ryn getting a nod himself until he sweeps his gaze back to the pens.

J'cobi shoots Erikath one last black look before turning around and making his way towards Alara. As he moves in that direction, doing some practiced climbing as he goes, he pauses to shake his head and let a few droplets of blood fly free. Watch out, ladies. Upon reaching the ledge, he slings himself up and begins once more to pace in silence. All the while, Erikath continues to blood the herdbeast while casting a careful eye towards Rauzath over and over and over and over and …

While Rauzath drains her last kill, the hisses get louder, adding the sounds from the tunnelsnakes. The green nearby gets a rumbling screech, complete with the insult. « Oh! Yer that pair that hates the dark of between. Scared of the depths, huh, girlie? » Unfortunately, it's not a personal message. Alara, sitting on the ledge of the ground weyr nearby, shrinks a little more in on herself. "That's enough, now luv. There you go. You know you want to. The sky calls." She smiles, giving her bonded the permission. Rauzath takes the permission, and takes to the skies with a vengeance, calling out, bugling her challenge Weyr-wide.

The insult given the green is brushed off with a mental snort, even as the gold takes flight. However L'han is not amused, "You encouraged her and she insulted you?" He shakes his head and says, "This Weyr will be crazy for sure." He glances over to Alara's ledge and looks back to Escaeth, "Gonna finish that meal then?" The green drops her head to the carcass and resumes her meal as her rider watches skyward for the results.

Mountain tides of distant avalanche, subsonic echos of pressure within cascading motion of wings and snapping tendon and muscle; Bruleth flings his sole beast into another bronze's way before launching into the sky. The immediate burst of action steals from his voice. Bruleth is some distance out of the swirling dust of the feeding pens before his roar answers the gold's.

"This is /it/. I am /so/ going to wake you up every flippin' middle of the night — /WHERE/ is her weyr?" F'lan huffs his way along the periphery of the bowl, though he does stop and try to stare and see if there's any obvious herd of people going in any obvious direction. Nope. Back to Seek and Ye May Find. F'lan's method of playing involves calling into question the very heritage of his dragon, and the relatedness of the big bronze to whers and tunnelsnakes.

That was the call, the sound of gates opening that Ockath has been waiting for. Legs crouched down spring up, as the brown blasts up into the sky to give chase. Sometimes poised and ready does pay off. Specially when you have the suaveness of a headstone. Wings snap as the brown's own call comes back like pans clattering around on the ground. And so the chase is on let slip the hounds…err..dragons of lust?

T'ryn remains crouched, as hands clap. "There they go.." muttered along. Well old Boy, good to see if you can go another round. Two? That would be luck. And so hands still as rider comes engrossed, or for T'ryn stops fidgeting.

The big brown is behind in taking off - getting off the ground takes a little longer when your wingspan's so broad compared to your size. But Nalinoth is off, and only now does he make sound: his bugle is an answer to Rauzath's challenge. He will chase her! Determination is in every beat of his wings. Z'kaz trails after J'cobi, still muttering under his breath, though he gives Alara a longing look when he's finally on her ledge.

Erigth gives his own bugle of challenge as soon as the gold leaves the ground and even through the dust as multiple dragons leave the ground at what seems to be the same time, he can still see her! The one he wants! Any brown or bronze that gets in his path as he hurtles skyward gets the talons as the dragon growls to get to his beloved Rauzath. D'lin just closes his eyes as he says, "Want her, she's mine." Clearly he's gone bye bye till this is all over. His dragon is the one in the driver's seat.

Erikath viciously and bodily knocks the herdbeast out of his way as it is tossed towards him, refusing to let that little setback mark the end of his place in the competition. He immediately takes flight, wings beating the air with almost deafening loudness, and soars upwards after Rauzath. As he flies, his mind voice calls with the accompaniment of strings and a triumphant fanfare, « Do not run too far, my dear! Do you not understand that this is destiny? »

On the ledge, J'cobi continues to fume. He isn't in the happy, dance-y mood that others may be enjoying. In truth, he looks like he's trying desperately to avoid hauling off with the fists of fury. He lunges at nothing once or twice, head bobbing and weaving slightly as though dodging imaginary punches.

A snort in the air as Ockath keeps his pace, racing along with the others, as he moves to muscle up for rank. « I'll be sure that you sing in your sleep too once I getchya. » Rumbled along the line like a shifting of the crust. He continues trailing. If he has his mettle, he'll catch. But, that is a big if.
"The pan.." muttered almost out without even thinking, as he rises up. Lost in the moment-quite. Enough that T'ryn has yet to even attain that J'cobi has come shadow boxing over. No, the former trader is quite focused on his boy in flight, and seeing if he can get a grab. "Ha. Sing-" a grin as eyes don't even hold one view or the other in. He's lost, lost lost.

Escaeth watches from her kill and then as though switching tack of though, just wolfs down what's left. L'han seems to get the idea because he clambers up her forehead and onto her back as she stretches her wings and then with a beat soars over to Alara's ledge. Once they get close, the greenrider slides to one side of his partner and then off her and onto the ledge as she tucks in her wings to fly off to their ledge. L'han takes in those present and grins at the nearly lost expression on Alara and he comments before turning his eyes skyward once more, "She's a feisty one isn't she?"

Simpering nitwits. Bruleth missed Erikath this time, but there's a slap of a tail in the other's direction, before /She/ speaks his name. And…F'lan's? « Eats like a queen. » This rumbled, admitted, though the lilac scent oxygenates to almost an ozone odor. Frail sunlight, filtered through the overcast skies, mutes the metal of his hide, so that earthen tones of sepia and cinnamon dominate. Erigith's shot at him, with claws, earns a retaliatory snap of narrowed muzzle.

Indeed, eating like a queen is really taking its toll. F'lan huffs along, having to stop and put his hands on his knees to catch his breath. "I'm disowning you. And wait—! What are you saying about me? This is a damn mating flight, you jerk. Shut up and fly!" Mutter mutter talking about what I eat mutter mutter stupid dragon mutter mutter, wanted blue anyway.

Z'kaz is finding it harder and harder to keep /his/ mind separate from /Nalinoth's/ mind. He barely focuses on what the other riders are saying, but L'han's more sober words do cause him to turn a barely-seeing gaze on the green rider. The brown rider's pupils are dilated, an eerie effect in his almost white face. "Mmmm?" Nalinoth is on a straight course after Rauzath, glad at least that she is not trying fancy flying. He's around the middle of the pack now, his pace steady to keep him in the flight. Finally, he bespeaks the gold. « My beauty…you fly so well. Like a true queen. »

Erigth beats his powerful wings, trying to find a current, a path, some way to get to his intended. « My lovely queen! Have you no words for me? Your sweet voice calls me so! » The snap from Bruleth however draws a hiss from the bronze as he tries to bump into the other dragon to knock him away from the queen. D'lin has no words for the greenrider L'han as his thoughts aren't even there.

Erikath soars onwards and upwards, calling out to the Queen amidst the sound of orchestral overture. He makes no effort to evade the vicious scrum of dragons chasing her, yet he's more focused on Rauzath than knocking others out of the running. « Enough of the games, » he croons to her, « I am catching up with yo-oo-oou~. »

J'cobi, meanwhile, is far from the Don Juan that Erikath is. As T'ryn stands up in front of him, he snaps and finally loses that element of self-control. He pulls back his fist and lets a haymaker fly at the other rider's jaw from the side, already ducking to one side should it land.

L'han stares at the riders, especially Z'kaz as he seems to be the only mildly coherent one, but when J'cobi lets loose the punch, it startles the greenrider as he watches J'cobi, but should T'ryn fall down or not react to the punch in any fashion, he'll move in to restrain J'cobi. His dragon's gotta be taking up a lot of his attention. How hard could stopping him from hurting others be?

Ockath apparently has pushed his way further up, coming closer towards Erikath, only to snap at the bronze, as if he could jerk him out of the running. After all there is a queen to be catching and well..dragon making to be had.
Snap and T'ryn's head jerks to the side violently as that Haymaker catches him completely off guard and in his gourd. A snort and spit as blood wells up in his mouth, and there's one lash out of his fist back. Ornery as his brown, the rider sends a punch back as he stumbles back to where he was standing. His next swing is more or less aimed low, for J'cobi's gut. Well-this should be an interesting night.

Pragmatic and steady as the cinder-cones that dot the Southern continent, Bruleth is taken by some surprise at the other dragon's bump, and he veers, sloe-cast pinions arching for air, for balance. He twists his own momentum, with great effort, to now try to actively tangle his attacker's flight, with a roar. But, he can also multitask: « Never in the history of Pern, has a queen gotten away. But if it might be /this/ oaf who'd catch you Think again. »

F'lan, by some stroke of blind luck, finally finds the right set of stairs, or perhaps some watching rider took pity on the bronzer, and has finally pointed him into the right direction. Regardless, and he probably couldn't say which was the situation, he begins up the stairs. Doing great, until he shares the concussion of Erigith's hit on Bruleth. F'lan, finally allowing the strength of the mindlink to take him into the rosy glow of full lust, gets vamped out of the experience by the rude ground coming up to bodyslam his portly frame. Padding keeps anything from breaking, and he has to lay there for a few moments to try to get oriented again. Up. No. Up the stairs. And into the brawl.

Nalinoth is starting to strain a little now, trying to outpace the bronzes and move towards the front of the chasers. He's big but…can he keep up for long enough? Rauzath's taunt has no effect on him save to make him beat his wings harder, eager to prove her wrong and make a catch of her. It's Z'kaz, down way below, who reacts with a growl, but fortunately he doesn't throw himself into the fight that's now starting up. The short, wiry rider backs up, turning his big dark eyes away from L'han and onto Alara. "How did /you/ know…" he mutters under his breath, quietly.

Eright continues to try to fly to his queen, when Bruleth tangles him up in flight, dropping him to the very back of the pack. When the bronze becomes aware of this, he lets out a roar of disappointment and anger and gives up the ghost, dropping out of contention and back to the Weyr. D'lin shakes his head in disappointment and he gets up and starts to haul his butt down from the ledge, whispering soothing words to his partner. "There is still another queen, don't worry my friend."

« Mind yourself! » Erikath chastises Ockath for the moment, his mind voice shifting from soaring strings to the sounds of a pipe organ. But once he's gained a few more yards, he calls out to Rauzath once more, « Maybe so! But we shall see about that in a few days, shall we not? »

Meanwhile, back at the Ledge of Alara, the brawl continues. As T'ryn jabs J'cobi in the stomach, the bronzerider doubles over slightly and coughs. But he's not out of it yet, grabbing onto his fellow rider's tunic so he can lift his knee swiftly into his chest.

"Shardin-shellin-" Alara screams, standing up suddenly, whacking some poor sod in the head with her own. "Cut that out!" As Rauzath dips lower, she tires, and slows in the air. « You lot are all complete… » She realizes the jig is up and cuts out the insults. Now is not for talking. Now is for choosing.

L'han realizes this is about to get out of hand, especially with a queen about to choose and once the Weyrwoman-to-be gives her order, he bodily steps in, taking hold of both riders tunics to try and force them apart. "Enough! When the Weyrwoman says end it, that means end it!" He tries to keep himself between both riders, at least till this is over. He glances back to Alara, waiting on the end of the flight.

Knee meet chest. Which catches a wheeze as his hands were in the midst of coming down towards J'cobi in one of those axe handle type hits. By the Egg a knee into your broad chest hurts, or so T'ryn is thinking in the middle of all this stuff. Well at least those no cursing-or audible cursing. it's most;y shock and air sucking.

Nalinoth tries for one last burst of energy when he sees Rauzath dip lower still, slow down, stop throwing out insults. Can he reach her before one of the bronzes and make her /his/? He's certainly prepared to give it a good go, slipping into a spot near Erikath. The brown's neck is stretched out to his fullest, and his now-aching wings are spread wide to try and give him an edge. So /close/! Z'kaz has backed up so far he's against the outside wall of Alara's weyr, staring at the fighting riders and intervening folk, but without really seeing. He's one with Nalinoth right now, with the dragon's emotions at their peak.

« Ah! The chase nears the end! Soon, you shall see what I meant by the whole destiny thing. » Erikath beats his wings a couple more times to take to the air above the tiring Rauzath, spinning about to get a bead on her for the moment.

J'cobi is dragged out of the fight for a moment, but he's got other things in mind so he reaches to try and throw L'han to one side and get to Alara. Enough fighting, now he's channeling Erikath.

It was an altruistic sacrifice, in Bruleth's mind-view. His chances at the gold lost, but for the good of the Weyr, so were that other dragon's. He'll wobble back into a fair beat, a steady cadence, but he's experienced enough to know that the knot of bronze and brown hide, so close onto the gold, excludes him. Like his opponent, the big bronze veers away, sliding from the competition as it ends.

Below, just as he's about to stumble into the fray, poor F'lan is set off balance again, so he merely sags, with shoulder against the wall, trying to catch his breath. Someday, maybe, he can tell stories about his being there. By then, memory will have filled in much better detail, no doubt.

Rauzath backs up, or slows enough, and raises up to reach, using that last little bit of energy, and bumps purposefully into the first male body she comes into contact with. For good or for ill, the frame belongs to Erikath. She twines her neck around his own, letting him guide her down to the ground to complete the coupling.

On the ground, Alara pushes L'han out of the way, grabs J'cobi by the tunic, and forces their lips together tightly for a long moment. She releases him long enough to hiss to L'han. "Get these sharding idiots off my ledge!!" Whether it's actually her weyr or not — it really doesn't matter. It's hers tonight. She drags him into the weyr, and disappears from sight.

L'han nods to Alara and releases J'cobi once she gives her orders and as they disappear, he waves the others away and off the ledge. "You all heard, away with you all and anyone that throws another punch gets to spend the night tied up in the bowl." Escaeth comes flying to the ledge now the flight is over, looking at her rider to give him a lift.

While Nalinoth falls away in mute disappointment above, Z'kaz flees the ledge, more than eager to get the hell out of there. Likely there's going to be a lot of wine in his immediate future.

A curse from both man and dragon is enough right there. Still it is the way of things, so without much ado, and the sharding fight over all T'ryn has to do now is go wipe his mouth. wheeze a bit. There's no need for the greenrider to help him. The brownrider just grunts and is spitting as he goes to shove off towards the stairs. "No I am not going off to sing to my shellin' pan." he audibly responds back to his dragon.

A roll of his shoulders as T'ryn goes marching off Most likely down to the lower Caverns find some craftsman's daughter or such to work his frustrations out…Or he'll sing to his pan. It is entirely possible.
As for Ockath? He's off to collect himself and bend a tail. All that flying and snapping loosened something up.

L'han nods as the ledge is clear and he glances in the direction of the interior rooms, but obviously not taking a peek. Those two likely are the new leaders now and he smiles, "Have a good night, Weyrwoman and Weyrleader. I'll keep an eye on things for tonight." He feels like saying it even if neither of them can hear him now. L'han looks at his dragon and smiles, "Feel like flying tonight?" Escaeth just turns to offer her back to L'han and he climbs up. With a flap of her wings, they drop out into the bowl and Escaeth lets out a bugle of celebration at the successful rising before the green flies out of sight.

Excellent Flight! Thank you for all who turned out and NPC'ed for us!

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