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Second Pass Weyr - AU Canon Pern

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Topics - R'nya

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1
Fort Weyr / Spring Showers [Rhaedalyn]
« on: 16 Nov 2016 at 11:43 PM »
R’nya’s day had not been going well. First, he’d woken with a pounding headache and no immediate explanation as to where it had come from; it just was. As he was dressing, he realised that the way it ached indicated he was apparently allergic to something flowering which of course would have to be the vase of pretty flowers Rhaedalyn had picked for him the day previous. Fantastic. He could hardly throw the flowers out – wouldn’t even consider it and the insult it would be to Rhaedalyn – which meant he would be suffering headaches for the next several days. Even more wonderful.

As he was making his way across the weyr to greet Xyreith, he tripped on a small wooden doll that one of the girls had clearly left on the floor and he hadn’t managed to pick up, stumbled several steps, and proceeded to kick the corner of a wall as he passed, startling him with the sudden pain enough for R’nya to curse loudly, hopping into Xyreith’s side of the weyr and collapsing against his bronze dragon, grumbling and cursing to himself under his breath while the great beast tried not to laugh at his misfortune; bastard.

Breakfast had R’nya spilling klah on himself when he was bumped into by an antsy green, the proddy young man giving R’nya a nasty look for being in his way before he realised he was sassing out the Weyrleader, who gave him duties of cleaning the privies. Most of the other riders took that as an indication to steer clear of the Weyrleader and his bad mood.

Unfortunately, not everyone got the message.

On his way down to his office after changing his shirt, R’nya instead found himself occupied with a pair of younger blueriders, who had apparently gotten into a scuffle over something or another of such unimportance in the scheme of things that neither man could remember what had sparked the argume0nt. The only thing they recalled was how angry they were at each other, and that anger was still sparking even as R’nya paced irritably between them. When neither of them were prepared to own up to starting the argument, R’nya sent them both off to clean privies, each on different levels of the Weyr.

Slamming his office door, R’nya was more than prepared to spend the next several hours alone; unfortunately those several hours were used up by various individuals of the Weyr coming in and demanding his Leadership SkillsTM; including, but not limited to, things that were not under R’nya’s umbrella of required tasks. Some he sent off to bother Rhaedalyn, while others he shuffled off to go and find D’hys. Some he actually managed to make cry.

Sir? Xyreith’s interruption caused R’nya to growl out loud, startling the young man who was just leaving his office into scuttling out even faster. Sir!

“Not now, Xyreith!” R’nya snarled, slamming some paperwork into a draw for later perusal – it was nothing overly important to anyone but the damned Headwoman anyway – before running his hands through his hair, which was rather static-y from such a disastrous day. He was about ready to start bashing his head against the hard wood of his desk. As if to remind him of his headache, his head throbbed at the temples, and R’nya groaned in distraught exhaustion.

Sir! Xyreith’s voice was a husky growl, and R’nya straightened in his chair, eyes widening as the implications of what Xyreith was saying finally hit home. Dissi!

Without waiting for further comments from his dragon, R’nya flew out of his chair, and across his office. He flung the door open and quite literally barged through what looked like D’hys holding a Weyrling by the upper arm (R’nya didn’t bother to stop and take note, though the distinct sound of laughter followed him) and down the hall, communicating with his dragon just enough to know that Rhaedlayn was in her own weyr, and given the time of day, R’nya was quite sure the girls would be in crèche.

To say the bronzerider barged in would be rather an understatement. He shoved his way through the few fellow bronzeriders who were making an attempt at capturing Aradissicath (one of them definitely would be sporting a black eye, later) but R’nya paid them no heed as he followed his dragon to victory and claimed Rhaedalyn as his own, slamming her weyr door in the face of the other riders.

+ ~ + ~ +

R’nya came back to his own lazily, unwilling to give up the warm comfort that he was currently at home in; his arms were wrapped gently around Rhaedalyn as he held her close to his own body, her long hair seeming to be everywhere. R’nya wasn’t worried, though, as he leaned forward to kiss her lightly on the cheek, weaving his fingers between Rhaedalyn’s own and holding her hand gently. Considering how the day had lead up to that moment, R’nya was rather shocked Xyreith had won Aradissicath (Your faith in me is astounding, Sir), and he half expected the current circumstances to blow up into an argument (though he couldn’t think of anything they would argue about).

Smiling slightly, R’nya snuggled closer to Rhaedalyn.

2
Ista Weyr / Checking Up, Checking In [Ameris]
« on: 24 Oct 2016 at 09:07 PM »
Appearing out of between and into the bright spring sunshine, Xyreith bellowed a greeting to the watch dragon, pausing in flight to exchange further greetings when the beast questioned the appearance of a Weyrleader and his beast. Once the green and rider were assured that it was pleasure they were there for, Xyreith tilted his body and angled lazily for the Weyr lake, having been informed during their conversation that that was where he could find his quarry.

Atop his neck, R’nya sat through the dragon’s greeting silently, one hand pressed to Xyreith’s neck and his lips pursed in a line as he looked about with a vague sense of curiosity. He’d never been to the Weyr in question, and he and Xyreith had had to ask around to get a solid image of the Weyr’s landmarks so they could travel between safely. It was something he was going to add to the Wing practices when he returned; it simply wasn’t good not to have everyone knowing each of the various Weyr’s landmarks.

Is that them?
Looks to be, the bronze dragon returned mildly, angling towards the gold and her rider who appeared to be relaxing by the lake. Xyreith rumbled a greeting to Mizeath as he landed a polite distance away, landing tidily. R’nya waited until the bronze had tucked his wings back against his sides before unbuckling himself and sliding gracefully from his neck.

“Ameris!” The cheerful tone of R’nya’s voice broke the silence after the beat of Xyreith’s wings, and the bronzerider strode forward towards the young woman he’d shepherded back at Katila Weyr. He hadn’t seen her since they’d all gone their separate ways, but that didn’t mean she hadn’t been on his mind at least occasionally. “How have you been, my dear?”


@Jenn

3
Fort Weyr / Another Win [Rhaedalyn]
« on: 03 Jan 2016 at 11:09 PM »
The day had begun with R’nya sitting in the large, far too spacious office that had come with being Weyrleader of Fort. R’nya was not comfortable with the new knots now present on his shoulder, but he was also reluctantly agreeable to the fact that there really wasn’t a lot of choice when it came to dishing out Weyrleadership to the assorted weyrs. They were all so young, and inexperienced. R’nya hadn’t even wanted to be a Wingleader, and now he was a Weyrleader! The bronzerider released a long suffering sigh and rubbed his temples.

He’d been more than a little surprised when a sudden warm wave of lust washed over him, trickling down his spine and making his toes tingle. It took a moment before he realised what the cause was, and then he was standing up so fast he sent his chair skittering behind him, where it toppled over with a loud crack against the bare stone floor – he had yet to find the time to get a rug brought in and the cold walls were also tapestry free.

Xy? Is it Dissi?

Of course, Xyreith responded with a low growling hum, the bronze leaping from the ledge of their weyr to close in on Aradissicath, watching steadily as the gold blooded her kills for what seemed like forever. R’nya half ran and half stumbled out of his Weyr, bumping into a greenrider a few lengths down the hall and he grabbed the man by the upper arm.

“Where is she?” His voice was husky with lust, and the startled man was quick to inform his Weyrleader where Rhaedalyn could be found, giving the man a slap on the shoulder as he sent him off. R’nya was too concerned with finding Rhaedalyn to worry about what type of gossip the man would be spreading about the Weyrleader being ditched by his dragon to find a goldrider on his own.

Xyreith’s answering bellow to Aradissicath’s challenge echoed through the skies and in R’nya’s mind as the man elbowed another bronzerider and slipped into Rhaedalyn’s rooms, hazy blue eyes quickly settling on the startled looking woman. She always seemed to be caught by surprise when her dragon flew, R’nya thought vaguely, forgetting his own surprise at the sudden lust he’d felt moments previously.

~ - ~ - ~ - ~

R’nya came to with the slow laziness of someone who was comfortable and relaxed.  There was a warm, feminine body curled against his side and though his right arm was dead from where the woman was laying on it, the pins and needles were not yet so bad as to cause enough discomfort for R’nya to wake her. The long, curly hair confirmed his companion was Rhaedalyn, even if R’nya hadn’t been sure of that fact from the subtle sweetness of her scent and the lingering lust he could still feel from dragon flights.

The bronzerider sighed softly, pleasantly comfortable, while the fingers of his left hand brushed gently against Rhaedalyn’s waist where he could reach without twisting his arm too much. She had such lovely soft skin! Shifting his head carefully, R’nya puffed a stray curly strand out of his face before dropping a light kiss on Rhaedalyn’s head, content to wait for the goldrider to wake up, he dozed off.

Another suitably challenging flight. Xyreith congratulated Aradissicath, though his cocky tone indicated it was obviously much more challenging for everyone else than it had ever been for himself. He ruined the effect somewhat by licking Aradissicath’s cheek affectionately.

4
Katilan Gather Grounds / Between Here and There [Rhaedalyn]
« on: 13 Feb 2015 at 06:59 AM »
R’nya watched as Volfetti walked away, Benden at her heels and little Alyren in her arms. It had been a month (he could probably have stated to the minute) since Alyren had been born, and the bronzerider didn’t really want to wait any longer before teaching Rhaedalyn and Aradissicath how to travel between. This was especially since they had no idea when the dear gold dragon would fly again, and successfully render them unable to learn for another several months. Rhaedalyn appeared excited, and anxious, but he wasn’t sure how much of the latter was attributed to Alyren being taken away, and how much was because of the prospect of traveling between without company, and finally being free like a true rider was supposed to be.

Turning towards Rhaedaly, R’nya offered her a ghost of a half-smile. While all of the girls had been trained in the theory of travelling between, R’nya had only managed to get a few of them through the practical execution, leaving just Rhaedalyn – who was then pregnant – and Ameris – since Mizeath was sand bound – to pass the last test. Since the birth of Alyren, R’nya had refreshed Rhaedalyn on the ups and downs of travelling between and finally assigned a day for that theory to be put to the test. “Are you ready?” Pale, sparkling eyes did not really expect an answer; the girl’s firelizards were fluttering around excitedly enough to more than speak on her behalf.

Walking over to Aradissicath, with Xyreith wandering along behind him, R’nya began a thorough examination of her riding gear, tugging on the buckles and running approving but examining eyes over the leather as finders poked and prodded at those areas that looked even mildly discoloured. Those simply proved to be the nature of the leather and the type of oil Rhaedalyn had been using to soften and keep the straps supple. The bronzerider finally stopped and nodded approvingly at his companion when he returned to Aradissicath’s shoulder, giving the gold and approving pat. “They are well made and cared for; you should be proud.” A moment was given for Rhaedalyn to bask in her praise, before he continued. “Mount up, my dear.”

Turning away to fix Xyreith’s straps, R’nya gave Rhaedalyn an impression of privacy to mount, assuming the nervous girl would probably stumble or get flustered if he stood around watching her. Xyreith, deciding to be naughty, danced around and fidgeted as R’nya tried to do a last minute check of his straps, earning himself several half-hearted slaps and some mumbled insults from his rider.

Growing tired with Xyreith’s fidgeting and teasing mood, R’nya turned back to Rhaedalyn to see her atop her dragon, fully decked out in her riding gear and all buckled in. The bronzerider stood for a moment to admire the picture, Xyreith rumbling his approval of the pair over his shoulder. Stepping forward, R’nya approached the pair and nodded his thanks to Aradissicath as she lowered herself so that he could check that Rhaedalyn was properly strapped in and ready to go. When he was sure all was set, R’nya gave the goldrider’s knee a gentle squeeze. “Let’s get this party started!” Tossing her a cheerful wink, R’nya flashed a smile before composing himself and marching his way over to Xyreith as if he’d never done anything out of the ordinary in his entire life.

Mounting up, R’nya caught Rhaedalyn’s eye, and signalled that they should both lift off to appropriate altitude for their lesson to begin.

5
The Lake Edge / Tell Me A Story [Rhaedalyn]
« on: 26 Jul 2014 at 12:52 PM »
R’nya watched Rhaedalyn fret with wordless amusement.

The bronzerider was sprawled casually on the grass a dragonlenth or two from the edge of the water, an eyebrow arched neatly above one eye and his lips twisted into a half smile as the goldrider let herself get carried away by her own anxiety at missing the Hatching. It was Aradissicath’s fault they were all still on the lakes edge, of course, but R’nya was much too smart to make quips, and Xyreith was amusing himself by annoying the gold in his usual manner, by poking and biting her and pretending otherwise when she looked at him. Xyreith was clearly having fun, though; by the way his tail tip was twitching and the bright colours that were swirling through his eyes.

Dressed in nothing more than a pair of low slung shorts that had definitely seen better days, R’nya was still dripping wet from the rather exuberant bathing Xyreith had demanded. The Wingleader was usually prone to springing surprises on his Wing, and telling them that today would be Bath Day, and that they’d have the assistance of sixty-odd Candidates to bath and oil their dragons. Naturally, what R’nya had planned to be a casual ‘training’ session had turned into into a typical excuse to celebrate and have a good time, with almost the entire remaining population turning out to drink, eat and bathe dragons. With the Hatching so close, the Candidates had been excluded from alcohol, but no one else had truly held back, and amusingly, R’nya had been among the casual drinkers.

That could, in part, have been because of Katila actually having quality alcohol imported from the North, too. It also did not hurt that the bronzerider had reacquired a taste for liquor with his increasing trips to a particular tavern in Telgar; R’nya was not really one to listen to gossip, otherwise he probably would have been slightly more scandalised by what was being whispered about him, and the young woman he had occasionally been seen with. On the other hand, he likely would also have found it amusing, notably since he was rather tipsy at the present moment. Much like he currently found Rhaedalyn’s pacing far more amusing than annoying and he continued to watch her, his smile growing into a subtle smirk.

“Rhaedalyn,” There was the tiniest sing-song lilt to his words, and R’nya shifted to rest his weight on one elbow and patted the ground beside him with his free hand, raising both eyebrows at the girl. “Come; sit!” leaning back again, R’nya wiped wet hair off his face and watched his companion quietly for a few moment, clearly considering, before his subtle smirk grew much more pronounced. “Tell me one of your stories.” He wasn’t sure if he was really meant to know about those; Xyreith had mentioned them a long time ago, when Aradissicath was much more the babbling Hatchling, and R’nya had kept the information quietly aside until it could be most useful.

Like now, while he was half-drunk, mostly naked, and smirking up at the goldrider from where he was sprawled in the grass and midday sunshine.

6
Character Diaries / The Inner Ren
« on: 20 Jul 2014 at 09:31 AM »

7
Western Forests / Gossip, Rumours and Bad Days [Ameris]
« on: 13 Apr 2014 at 02:57 PM »
R’nya was not having a particularly good day… Scratch that, he was not having a very good week. Xyreith’s attempt – and consequential failure – to fly Mizeath had been a mere irritation, really. R’nya did not particularly enjoy Flights to start with, and he particularly disliked when his dragon failed to capture the prize. He especially found such situations distasteful when he had no reason to lose, except that the great bronze lump was thinking too much about the gold dragon back on the ground, to concentrate properly on the one in the air. The follow up events that occurred between himself and the brownrider K’tir were un-noteworthy and something R’nya would have been content to forget about as most folk did with post-flight hook-ups.

Unfortunately, it had quickly become apparent that Rhaedalyn got a hold of the event and had gotten it into her pretty little head that R’nya fancied the brownrider. The bastard in return, seemed quite happy to go along with Rhaedalyn’s assumptions, all the while spitting out some crack dust about R’nya being a rough bedmate. R’nya would have been content to leave both of those alone; to simply ignore them. But apparently someone had taken to whispering to the goldriders, and the gold candidates, and now any that didn’t think he was into men was convinced he was a bastard behind closed doors.

R’nya was growing incredibly short tempered with the wide eyed and sideways looks he was getting, and incredibly incapable of getting any of the girls to stop, without somehow managing to back up the dirty gossip they’d been listening to. R’nya pinched the bridge of his nose as he walked with measured pace down a fairly well-trodden path in the forest. K’tir was lucky he was half a globe away more often than not, or R’nya was quite sure he would have set everyone’s beliefs straight by breaking the man’s jaw for his filthy gossiping. Worse than the worse greenrider, he was, spilling such filth. R’nya had never hit a woman in his life, and certainly not in flightlust!

His hand dropped from his face, fingers curling roughly into dual fists and he scowled at the open air and grumbled out a frustrated growl. It was followed by a deep breath, and he relaxed his hands, lifting them to push his fingers back through his hair. There were so many thing wrong with the entire situation, and he was frustrated almost beyond his own strict control by it. It was a glaring, vibrant reminder of why he had spent most of the time at Katila hiding among the shadows. Sighing, R’nya brushed his fingers lightly over the top of a full bush, pausing as he spotted a few late – or were they early? – berries.

Picking them, he nibbled on a couple, secure in the knowledge that they were edible and not poisonous, and followed the trail that lead off the main track towards where more of the bushes were located. He had made it halfway towards the centre when he spotted Ameris, and the bronzerider paused in a particularly comical (notably so, for himself) manner and searched the girl’s face with clearly anxious blue eyes. R’nya had been going out of his way to avoid Ameris; originally it had been unintended, but as the nasty rumours began to spread, he had chosen to avoid being stared at by her, like many of the others had.

He wasn’t sure he could handle her looking at him, like she did her father.


@Jenn - for Ameris

8
Personal Huts / Reality Bites [Rhaedalyn]
« on: 06 Sep 2013 at 01:39 PM »
Her shriek of defiance had no affect on him, Xyreith's bronze body twining elegantly around her own, grip sure and firm; no one was going to undo their pairing as he angled their wings, both experience and instinct guiding him as he lead them into a softly angled drop. There was no need to drop like stones as when one tangled with a green. Only the longest of flights would be worthy of a pairing such as theirs! On the ground, the bronzerider swept up Rhaedalyn easily, ignoring the others as the room emptied and he gently deposited the girl on her bed.

*~*~*

The familiar aches of a flight won warred with the knowledge that Xyreith had flown not that long ago, and so to fly and win again was vastly out of character for the creature. The soft, warm emotions coming off the beast were even more obscure and R'nya wasn't sure he wanted to ponder the implications behind them. There was, as always, a level of smug satisfaction, but that was the only reassurance - if it could so be called. All that meant was that Xyreith had, indeed, won. R'nya lifted a hand lazily and rubbed at his face, wondering which greenriding slut he'd wound up with now. Why Xyreith would choose to fly again so soon, he had no idea and stormy grey-blue eyes opened reluctantly.

There was absolutely nothing about the roof that told him whose bed he was in. The steady breathing beside him informed him that his partner had fallen asleep, rather than actively regain consciousness post flight. That, too, told him nothing and a gentle prod at Xyreith found him very much both content and asleep himself. R'nya blinked in surprise, that tidbit finally winning over his curiosity to see which bed he had landed in. Xyreith never curled up with his prize.

Blue-grey eyes took in the abundance of curly hair for several moments, framing rather nicely a very familiar face, and R'nya's face drained of colour. Aradissicath had flown? He'd known she was old enough, he'd seen her hide glowing more and more as the week progressed, and he'd been the one that had kept the idiots at bay when they tried to get into Rhaedalyn's personal space. He hadn't meant to get caught up in the actual flight though! Swallowing the urge to groan in distress, the bronzerider's hand made another pass over his face, fingers splayed over his eyes which opened slowly.

R'nya liked that many people considered him a prim and proper gentleman, and he felt it was an apropriate way to live. But he was still human, he was still a man, and he was still inclined to find pretty young women... pretty. He studied her sleeping face quietly, lowering his hand from his own slowly and gently shifting a lock of hair. She was smiling? Well, that was certainly nice! The girl was on her stomach, the light summer sheet spread at an angle across her lower back; R'nya was amused. He had no idea how the thing had managed not to end up on the other side of the room - unless Rhaedalyn had woken and put it... Blue eyes opened quite wide.

His eyes popping wider simply meant he had that much of a better view of the sleeping girl, and R'nya's attention shifted as blue eyes traced down the gentle curves of Rhaedalyn's back. She was so pretty! And all he could see was her back, and the shape of her legs under the light sheet, and her arms, and... R'nya shifted uncomfortably, sitting up carefully with one knee raised under the sheet. "Crap." The single word was spoken on a soft exhale, and R'nya leaned his weight back on one hand while the other carefully adjusted the light blanket so it covered more of Rhaedalyn.

The end of that action caused his gaze to linger back over her face, and R'nya froze like a deer in the headlights when he saw eyes staring back at him, barely breathing as he waited to see what she would do.

9
R’nya watched silently as Kahleena reassured Okalinath that three dud eggs were perfectly normal and nothing to be ashamed of before the gold dragon moved to dump the two remaining eggs between, clearing the Sands of their unbroken shells. Despite that, no one went near the dumped and rotten remains of the one that had been broken. Someone had kicked sand over it to mask the scent, but R’nya could still smell it. It was unfortunate that the shell had been broken, though the contents had revealed that nothing had ever made it into being inside. It was better that way. The bronzerider’s shoulders prickled uncomfortably as he remembered the sickly clutch Cerith had produced during the plague, and the damaged, malformed and unhealthy dragonets it had produced. Far better the eggs be dumped between, and far better the one that was broken produced no foetus.

Now is not the time for such memories, Sir. Xyreith interrupted his train of thoughts, the dragon’s own voice lingering in the realms of regret, though he forcefully banished R’nya’s uncomfortable memories and cleared space in the man’s mind as he directed his rider’s attention towards the two new gold babies. That brought an almost-smile to the bronzerider’s lips and he excused himself politely from Rhaedalyn to walk briskly across the Sands to where the two young women looked more than a little shell shocked by the latest additions to their lives.

“My ladies.” He stopped a polite distance away, and bowed slightly to them, before stepping forward with a gentle hug and a chaste kiss to each girl’s cheek. He was terribly proud of them, and their little ones were such pretty little things! “Would you introduce us?” The bronzerider crossed his ankles, and lowered himself carefully to the ground, sitting before the two young golds and waiting patiently.

Gold One, and Gold Two, Xyreith put in snidely to R’nya, approaching quietly from behind the group and across the sands. He peered back over his shoulder once, to see if Aradissicath or Okalinath and their girls were going to come over as well, before peering at the group before his rider with his usual less than pleasant expression.

10
Personal Huts / What Once Was [Rhaedalyn]
« on: 24 Jun 2013 at 09:46 AM »
The bronzerider looked up from his evening meal, frowning slightly at the vague tousle of emotions that suddenly flowed through him. Eyebrows furrowed and he put his fork down, reaching out to Xyreith – and the dragon took the moment to claim control. It was a response he hardly appreciated, though it didn’t entirely take him by surprise as he tugged the hem of his shirt down, sighing unhappily as he fought back against the dragon’s desires. “Excuse me, ladies.” At least he’d worn a long tunic that evening, R’nya thought idly, giving it another tug, as Xyreith fought viciously to take control. The internal battle caused the bronzerider to stagger almost drunkenly against the side of the table, and he patted one of the girls apologetically on the shoulder for elbowing her in the process. The screech of a randy green answered the unasked questions he could see on their faces.

“Xyreith!” The bronzerider’s voice came out a lusty growl, instead of the commanding reprimand it had been designed as. R’nya staggered again, unused to the onslaught of strong emotions, before trotting out of the dining hall with a handful of other riders, though they looked considerably more in control than the bronzerider, who so unused to flights. Finding the owner of the greenrider was important, and R’nya stumbled along at a trot with the other riders, guided by various helpful greenriders and non-riders who were clearly intent on ‘mothing the flight. R’nya ignored them as Xyreith shot into the air after the green, determination clear in every movement. As soon as he was to the sky, R’nya lost the last strings of battle he had been waging against the bronze, not wanting to partake in a flight.

Mine, Xyreith hissed as he flew strongly after the more agile green, watching her movements with a careful and calculating desire flushed over his face, and within the swirl of excitedly whirling eyes. It had been so long since he had flown, and so long since he had won – and needs had to be taken care of, even for such a dignified dragon as Xyreith. The moment the opportunity presented itself, the bronze twisted in, battering away the smaller blues and browns to snatch the green from her pretentious trickery, drawing her lithe form flush against his own as they toppled towards the ground once more.

On the ground, R’nya wrapped around the woman, the pair toppling to the bed without thought or care, caught up in the undeniable flood of lust and desire.

It was both a moment, and an eternity later, when pale eyes flickered open, the owner once more himself. There was a warm body sprawled half over his own and a headache brewing behind his eyes. Sore shoulders, tired muscles, tired body. R’nya lifted the hand not pinned down by a body to brush it lightly over his face. A disgruntled look was given to the still passed out woman, and R’nya sighed softly; it wasn’t her fault. Regardless, he hated flights, and had no desire to keep the woman warm through the night. Twisting, he withdrew his arm and toppled ungracefully off the side of the bed, catching himself and standing slowly. Rolling his shoulders, R’nya grimaced and kicked at the ground, searching for his pants.

“Nyeh?”
“Go back to sleep,” R’nya murmured, his voice low and husky as he found the clothing he’d been looking for, and tugged his pants on. The tie was busted, though whether from his own impatience or the woman’s wasn’t known to the man and he sighed softly again, glancing at the woman as she shifted, brushing aside the covering of her beside glows to peer up at her victor. R’nya started at the silhouette, memories dancing behind his eyes before the light caught up and his eyes adjusted. The bronzerider blinked as he picked up his shirt.

“R’nya?” The woman’s voice was soft, full of curiosity and delight. A cold shiver swept down the man’s spine and he nodded slowly, skin crawling with ghosts of the past. “Won’t you stay?” The bronzerider swayed, visibly, at the invitation and the woman’s eyes widened slightly in surprise before disappointment set in as R’nya suddenly shook his head firmly, almost childishly in the emphasis he put in the motion, and took a staggering step backwards.

“No.” The emotion in the single word surprised them both, and R’nya staggered back another step before turning and fleeing, not even bothering to disguise his exist as anything else, the front door bouncing back as he dashed through it, leaving a very confused greenrider sitting on her bed. A smug smile took over her features soon after, however, and the woman flopped back on her bed with a soft laugh. R’nya had flown her! It was a pity she was already pregnant, she thought idly, rubbing her belly. Claiming that bronzerider’s child would have won her some serious points with her fellow greens!

R’nya dashed the from the woman’s hut to his own, unconcerned that he was barefoot and shirtless, that it was extremely late, or that he almost barrelled into a woman and barely kept them both from toppling to the ground. The air was thick with ghosts as he carefully handled the girl, though he refused to look at her and didn’t check she had her balance or even ask if she was okay. “Sorry.” His voice was husky, thick with unshed tears, and didn’t even sound like his own. Leaving the girl, he turned and fled the last few lengths to his own hut, crashing into the door bodily, before falling through when he managed to twist the handle.

There was a muffled crash, and a growled ‘fuck’ when he ran into the coffee table, which wasn’t in its usual spot – he’d been cleaning earlier before getting dragged to dinner by a couple of the girls – and he stumbled to his closed bedroom door. Both fists were brought down on the innocent door, the crunch of bone on wood loud in the otherwise silence of his hut. R’nya crumpled, his knees giving out and he sunk to the floor, breathing audibly. Hands resting on the door, he leaned forward, pressing his forehead against the cool wood.

Xyreith paced around the hut once, before sitting regally beside the door. He didn’t bother to bespeak his human, and watched silently as Rhaedalyn timidly crept closer. His eyes were vague reflections of R’nya’s emotions; distressed and unhappy. He glanced around for Aradissicath, but failed to see her, and turned his attention back upon Rhaedalyn with irritation. Snorting, Xyreith flicked his nose from her to the doorway, and then rumbled softly, still staring at the woman. He would not be reduced to bespeaking her – but was also unwilling to risk waking the little dragon if she were asleep.

11
The Hatching Circuit / We Have A Fanclub [S'kef]
« on: 07 Oct 2012 at 08:51 AM »
"I see," R'nya responded smoothly when two of his three captivated audience voiced a negative on laying the blame on D'hys. The Wingleader was both pleased, and amused by their dedication to the truth; he hadn't believed the bluerider had posted it. Bluerider D'hys was a lot of things, but he was very rarely completely unreasonable. R'nya did not believe for a moment that whomever decided it would be a good idea to post the rather vivid piece of literature (if it could rightly be called so) would be far more proud of their handy work. It would not take long, to hunt down the author, of that he was sure.

Now, however, R'nya found himself faced with three young people who - while they trembled for the moment - he didn't doubt would develop loose lips once he was truly out of sight. Unfortunately, the bronzerider was also aware that an unknown number of men, women or children could have also seen the sheet of paper before the three young Crafters had happened upon it; then there was D'hys to consider, and his trusty sidekick. Politely being sidestepped as he left the Hatching Circuit was (undoubtedly) going to be the least of his concerns before the night was out.

"I will advise discretion." The wingleader's voice was as smooth as ever, even as an eyebrow arched up slightly and he once more took the time to meet each set of wide eyes. He couldn't keep them from gossiping if they were so inclined, and R'nya had never been one to attempt squishing that bug. The rumour mill at Katila was far too useful - if you remembered to take what was said with a handful of salt. "Brownrider S'kef will be far less pleased than I." R'nya's gaze shifted as he turned to look over his shoulder, aware that he would need to bring S'kef up to speed on the sheet now folded carefully in his pocket - before someone else did.

"Excuse me, gentlemen, miss." Nodding politely to the two young men and the young woman, R'nya took a step backwards before spinning neatly on his booted heel. He had no desire to further question the young men and woman that had been gathered; it was obvious they knew nothing. The young woman was far too timid and properly ladylike to do anything of the sort, and while he could have seen Sanderon doing something in order to target those that had ruined his life, he would have expected him to target those people - not a bronze and brownrider he was probably not even inclined to know the names of off the top of his head.

Walking with a determined step back in the direction he had come, R'nya ordered Xyreith to keep Tyrrisath grounded for the next few minutes, lest S'kef manage to escape before he came across his wingrider. It would not do for someone else to inform the brownrider of what was written on one particularly out of line piece of parchment.

"Brownrider S'kef!" R'nya raised his voice a little as he spotted the rider in question, still lurking on the edge of the Sands with his mate. "We need to speak. Privately." He could tell his mate if he wished, but R'nya would speak to the other man alone, first; he'd not embarrass his wingrider - That would look very unprofessional indeed!

12
Dragonrider Bulletins / R'nya's Wing - Regular Practice Times
« on: 01 Oct 2012 at 07:53 PM »
R'nya's wing practice regularly. Each session lasts for two hours, from 5pm to 7pm before being released for the evening meal.

Please try not to double-RP as everyone is expected IC to be on time and present. If you do manage to double up, that's cool. But R'nya will punish the character in question for skipping out on his Practice if there isn't a solid reason for it.

These do not have to be RP'd but can if anyone is interested. R'nya is available to RP all said sessions with one other person or the entire wing.

Wing Practice sessions meet in the Gather Square, where R'nya will give the run down on what can be expected for the duration of the session. Thereafter they mount up and fly to the required location for their session to take place. They are dismissed from said location when the session is done.



01.06.232
- Ground exercises; Wing was split into three groups based on fitness and given individual assignments to work upon.
- Dragons worked on take off and landing.
- Session takes place on the Hunting Ranges.

08.06.232
- Ground exercises in pre existing groups.
- Dragons again practised take off and landing exercises.
- Session takes place on the Hunting Ranges

15.06.232
- Re-assessment. Groups were reorganised based on new assessment. More basic exercises and stretching.
- Dragons are sent to fly in formation above the Ranges
- Session takes place on the Hunting Ranges

22.06.232
- Group fitness games; They were required to play tag, and 'dragon, dragon, wher!'.
- Dragons fly Formation above the Weyr
- Session takes place in the Gather Square.

29.06.232
- Group fitness games; Follow the Leader; Freeze Tag.
- Dragons fly Formation above the Weyr
- Session takes place in the Gather Square

06.07.232
- Individual games; tree climbing in the Forest
- Dragons are dismissed to go swimming
- Session takes place in the Forest

13.07.232
- Group team games; three legged races
- Dragons are dismissed to go swimming.
- Session takes place in the Gather Square.

20.07.232
- Practice cancelled due to Larrikith flying shortly after commencement.

27.07.232
- Trust building exercises; Blind maze games worked in interchanging pairs.
- Dragons flying formations above the Weyr.
- Session takes place in the Gather Square.

13
The Hatching Circuit / Rhythm Of Life [Hatching]
« on: 28 Sep 2012 at 08:29 AM »
R'nya was sitting at his desk, a pen in hand as he went over the notes he had created about his wingriders, a small frown pulling the young man's eyebrows together as he poured over the information. Some of them were beginning to shape up very nicely, and R'nya was quite proud, particularly of those whom he had - admittedly, if only to himself - had little hope for. While he didn't gush over any of them, he felt quite positive the Wing was aware of his approval for their improvement. Quite nods, and a lack of snapping he felt displayed his appreciation quite well. Approving words and claps on a shoulder were not really his thing, but he did his best to show his respect for the way they were pulling themselves together and at least attempting to act like a Wing. It would grow easier with time, of course, and time was something those at Katila had an awful lot of.

Sir, Xyreith's rich voice pressed lightly against his mind, making the dragon known as he stood up leisurely outside and stretched, looking particularly feline in his movements and actions. The young will join us this day, the bronze dragon's voice was approving, though like his rider his expectations for what would arise from the eggs upon the sands was rather reserved. Unlike R'nya, who did not actively follow a colourist thought process, and hadn't since Weyrlinghood, Xyreith was not so forgiving. His bonded's opinion that day on the Sands had struck deeply with the Hatchling and he clung to it, despite R'nya's revelations as they grew. Hide colour was severely important to the dragon, and a lowly brown, while clearly more worthy than a blue, should not have taken what should have been a bronzes!

"Thank you, Xyreith." Placing his pen back in its place, R'nya rose from where he was sitting and proceeded to prepare for the Hatching. There was no rush, the dragonets had made their intention to Hatch that day apparent, as could be heard as the dragons chirped and crooned to one another, spreading the news, but eggs take time to Hatch and R'nya knew he had at least a good thirty minutes before any of them would actually manage to break shell. In that time, he prepared for the event, dressing himself neatly in his riding leathers and making sure his knots were tied and draped correctly, R'nya swept a hand back through his hair before quietly leaving his hut. The Weyr outside was in an erratic state of controlled chaos.

Climbing with practised skill upon Xyreith, the pair quickly made their way to the Hatching Circuit, the dragon more than the human deeply amused by the scattering ants that the Weyr had become when the announcement of the Hatching became known. Weyrbrats were the most obvious, getting under feet and squealing excitedly as they ran around and got in the way. The stolen looked less enthralled, many of them having been denied the chance to Stand for Impression at the clutch. There would only be a small group of twenty on the Sands, including Weyrbred and children brought South during the Plague. With over one hundred having come South due to being stolen, there were a lot that ranged from sour to relieved.

While they were not the first to arrive, they were far from the last and Xyreith settled down comfortably on the edge of the Sands; with the Hatching Circuit lacking the typical Stands that were found within traditional Weyrs, most people sat atop their dragons, a friend's dragon, or on the limbs of a random dragon. Weyrbrats were dodging around the edges of the event, while the young gold Krypth kept everyone at a suitable distance while she preened over her rocking clutch. The child, Indivara, stood beside her pseudo gold with a scowl to match on her scarred face, while Jada wrung her hands anxiously beside the girl. R'nya shifted his gaze, acknowledging several of his Wingriders before focusing on the Clutch.

It was the Bass Egg, the one the Candidates had been heard whispering about to contain nothing of more intelligence than a firelizard, that made it first know that the Hatching had officially began. When a sizable crack rocketed down the side of the eggshell, the Weyr hushed and the dragons took up their hum, filling the air itself with the heavy thrum of their collective voices. Draconic eyes sparkled like bright, excited jewels as the focus was settled on the most excited egg. A moment later, the Cocktail Egg gave a heavy rock, toppling over sideways and rolling for several feet before coming to a stop, apparently hitting a lump in the sands. R'nya watched with subtle amusement as the young men on the Sands shifted anxiously. Very few women had been granted permission to try for Impression, and without counting R'nya would have hazarded a guess of no more than six girls amongst the company of young men.

Beating its sibling to the punch, the Bass Egg released its inhabitant with a the dragonet apparently giving a mighty shove with fore- and hind feet, it shove itself backwards while egg shell rocketed forward. The tiny green dragonet landed in a cloud of sand, sneezing forcefully when it undoubtedly got a massive amount up its freshly hatched nose. A round of soft groans whispered through the sounds of the dragons humming as the colour was seen and recognised. A green first wasn't all that reassuring, although R'nya admitted, he'd be surprised if there was anything much more than greens in the clutch. Unreadable grey-blue eyes shifted casually to look toward S'kef, the brownrider located in the general vicinity of the gold and her rider. He looked less than thrilled, though like R'nya, he didn't seem overly surprised; just not happy about it.

The sneezing green scrabbled to her feet, wings, legs and tail going in every direction as she attempted to learn control of the assorted limbs literally moments after gaining the freedom of life. A pitiful creel escaped the hatchling, followed by a frustrated shriek. A moment later, one of the young men scrambled forward, his face out of the bronzerider's sight though it was obvious Impression had been made as he uttered reassurances to the distressed creature.

Not wanting to be forgotten, the Cocktail Egg twitched, egg shell falling away as the baby within took up once more the fight for freedom, the egg rocking on its odd perch in frustration. Not far away, the Tumbadora Egg took up the fight for feedom, cracks rippling across the surface, destroying the clear brilliance of the shell. A few moments later, it fell still - while the Cocktail Egg finally crumpled, the dragonet within shaking off shards and claiming life. A haughty expression was clear on the little green dragonet's face, and R'nya's left eyebrow arched slightly as he watched hre flick her wing arrogantly - an action that caused her to lose her balance and fall on her nose. Even he couldn't stop the snort of amusement that he uttered. The surrounding audience seemed to be much the same, amusement mingling with dragon hum. A young man's voice cut across the combined sounds; "It's not funny!" as he stormed across to his dragonet, helping her gain her feet.

Just what we need. Another troublesome green pair. Xyreith commented lazily, watching the newly bonded pair do the best they could to stalk indignantly from the Sands while the dragonet tripped and stumbled and the young man tried very hard not to coddle her publicly. "Indeed," R'nya drawled as the third egg, the Tumbadora Egg began to make its intention to Hatch clear. It took a while, and in the few minutes while the Hatchling within attempted to make a break for freedom, R'nya glanced at S'kef once more, noting the brownrider's continued lack of enthusiasm - well, it was only two eggs and greens were an important part of the structure of Wings, especially against fighting Thread.

As if to justify this process of thought, the Tumbadora Egg flaked away to reveal a third green, sitting almost pristine within the crumpled flakes. She peered around with a mild expression on her face, before rising and walking quite confidently over to a young man who lead her off the sands. Xyreith laughed in the back of R'nya's mind, amused by the quiet dignity.

A thirty minute break dragged by, following the third green Impression. As the time slowly made its pass, R'nya took the opportunity to glance around the gathering. A few people were eyeing off Krypth, wondering if the young gold had clutched half dudes and was going to drop the other three between like her dam was wont to do when they failed to Hatch; but the young mother seemed quite content in her watching, despite her bonded's continued hand wringing and the impatient huffing of her Weyrbrat guard. R'nya's gaze moved over the crowd instead, enjoying the pause in the excitement and the moment it allowed to relax from the adrenaline inducing event. Memories of Impressing Xyreith were pressing against the edges of his mind but R'nya refused to allow them to resurface completely, more intent on people watching than reliving one of the best moments of his life.

Another, Sir. R'nya's steely gaze flickered down from surfing the crowd to watch the three remaining eggs, his mild frown from earlier that morning pulling his brows together as he realised two were rocking, though the Bongo Egg was making decidedly more effort than its sibling the Tambourine Egg; R'nya pursed his lips into a flat line, watching quietly and without too much excitement as the casing around the young dragon became a canvas of jagged lines, and then the creature within gave a final burst of energy, and the egg shell gave way, crumpling around the youngster within to litter the sands.

There was a sudden and resounding silence, and R'nya could feel the shock ripple through the gathered Weyr as even the humming of the dragons faltered in surprise, everyone staring in muted shock at the tiny golden dragon that had sprawled in an ungainly mass after breaking her shell, the Bongo Egg a scattering of remains all that was left. The dragons were the first to recover, their humming sky-rocketing in appreciation for another queen to join their ranks and to bring forth further dragonets in the not too distant future. R'nya felt his eyes actually widen, the Wingleader's eyebrows arching up his forehead in surprise before he gave a soft bark of laughter, raising his hands to offer a quiet applause. The majority of the audience knew better than to get too boisterous, but the appreciation, shock, delight, and sheer thrill that was the appearance of a new gold rippled through the crowd. R'nya's dancing gaze shifted to S'kef, giving the shocked and thrilled brownrider a half-smile and a nod of his head.

The little gold mewed piteously as she climbed to her feet, head swaying as she searched for her lifemate amongst breathless women who were staring wide eyed at her. R'nya watched with interest, amused as the girls all seemed taken aback. No one had been expecting gold and the women present weren't ones who had been Searched for gold; they were fighter material girls. A scuffle on the sideline attracted R'nya's attention and he watched quietly as someone he recognised as a Searchrider actively shoved a young woman out onto the Sands, an action that was seemingly quickly followed up by two other Searchers, an eyebrow arching as B'jin  seemed to pluck a young woman out of no-where and shove her bodily onto the sands, the greenrider hissing instructions to her as did so.

A moment later, Larrikith was giving a bugle of success while B'jin stood back smugly, arms crossed over his chest looking every inch the arrogant and self important young man he'd been thirty turns ago. R'nya shook his head, glancing mildly in the direction of the Weyrleader curiously, wondering if the Searchriders would be punished for shoving women on the Sands, or if their quick thinking would earn them thanks - after all, who wanted a fighter on gold? Unwilling to cause a scene, R'nya allowed the rest of the Hatching to unfold without acting on it, though he kept a closer eye on B'jin when he wasn't watching the remaining eggs or those on the Sands; the girls that had originally been presented all looked confused and slightly frazzled, while the two young women that had been pushed forward by the other Searchriders slipped off the Sands as invisibly as possible.

Shaking his head once more and letting go of that worry for the moment, R'nya was almost startled when the Tambourine Egg literally blew its top, the top portion of the egg jumping up then toppling off the side to land beside the rest of the egg. A moment later, a comical blue head peeped timidly out of the hole. The dragonet peered around, the youngsters childish antics earning it both attention and giggles throughout the crowd, before the egg toppled over the the little blue squealed in surprise. His squeak was quickly answered by one of the young men bounding forward, anxious and excited as he knelt beside the egg to help break free his life partner: R'nya could see the boy's hands shaking from across the sands.

R'nya was pleased to see a male dragon make an appearance, the little blue a welcome addition to the four girls currently being fed off to one side. As the little fellow and his human partner meandered their way over to the feeding buckets, R'nya noted the small size of each of the dragoents; much smaller than would be considered average, he expected they would mature on the smaller side of the scale. The immature age of the gold was no doubt at fault, the clutch mother not even a turn old and breeding! It could be expected her clutches and those that hatched would improve in the future, with her own growth and maturity. Well, one could hope. Dragonets were often of a small and similar size upon hatching, regardless of their colour so it was to be expected that gold and green alike were barely any different in length or height. But their shared size could have been at least a foot bigger. Give them time, Sir. They will grow into their own. Undoubtedly.

Focusing his attention upon the final egg, R'nya was just wondering if perhaps it were a dud, when the little one within gave it a solid kick, sending the egg swirling and rolling much like its earlier sibling had done. During the process, the dragonet within appeared to be up-keeping its tantrum, bashing at the egg and sending it skittering in all direction across the sands. Several audience members tittered, and R'nya wondered mildly if people had already forgotten what had happened during the last Hatching when the audience continued to find hatchlings amusing. Glancing at Indivara and her tortured face, he acknowledged that she at least remembered, and judging by her self righteous scowl, was not about to laugh and invite another morbid attack. Not that he could see much skin left unscarred as it was.

With a muffled hiss from within, the dragonet finally gave its egg shell a strong kick, appearing from within the shards in a shower of shattered remains, a brown dragonet with furious eyes glaring out at the world as he righted himself indignantly and inelegantly. Hatching was not a laughing matter! Hissing and snarling, the young brown's movements were jerky and outraged as he picked himself up and stared around at the remaining Candidates with a self righteous expression. with a disdainful snort, the brown hatchling walked without hesitation up to a young man and waited imperially for the new rider to respond before the pair walked off.

Do these gold like torturing us with their offspring? Xyreith asked dryly, drawling the words as he stood up lazily while people seemed to blink and return to reality as they realised the little brown was the last one; the entire Clutch had Hatched, had Impressed - without any major drama, and with a gold! R'nya shrugged in answer to his dragon, before sliding off and making his way across the sands to B'jin; he had a greenrider to congratulate.




Sorry but you are not allowed to view spoiler contents.

14
Healing Hall / A Spoonful of Sugar [Talian]
« on: 20 Sep 2012 at 08:34 AM »
Generally speaking, R'nya was neither here nor there as far as being an early riser was concerned. Some mornings, he was simply awake, as was the case that morning. In such situations, the bronzerider felt disinclined to laze around in his rather large and very empty bed - neither facts he was against - and instead opted to rise and begin his day. Occasionally, as was not the case this particular morning, R'nya found sleeping late and being lazy appealing. Some days called for it - usually miserable, raining days with nothing on the agenda. At any rate, R'nya had found his way out of bed and off to start the day with little issue, having woken easily and fully.

Being a tidy person, the bronzerider's hut had not called for a cleaning session, what dishes were in his kitchen were clean and put away the night before, and his clothing was folded and already placed in its particular locations the previous day when he had brought them in dry. So, with nothing to keep him within the confines of the sparely decorated hut, R'nya had dressed and made his way to the Kitchen, intent on a bite to eat before putting his mind to task with the day's agenda. It was nothing that would hazard anyone else, really, though he did hope that the young Master would be free to see him. If not, he would book in a time to see him later. But he did wish to see the young man before he began the assessment of his new wingriders. After all, how would he know if he were being fair or unfair, if he were unaware of injuries still healing?

Pursing his lips thoughtfully, R'nya gave a polite nod of thanks as one of the kitchen staff came to assist him, and the bronzerider enquired - in his mild, placid voice - for a tray with breakfast for two men with mild apatites. He was both amused and mildly alarmed by the knowing look he received from the woman... followed by a setting that was definitely not for two men with mild appetites, and most certainly for about six men involved in far more activity than R'nya had had in a long time. The bronzerider arched an eyebrow at the woman, amused, while Xyreith chuckled in the back of his mind. The silly woman gave him a broad wink and sent him on his way. Well, to shards with her. He wasn't taking the blame for any uneaten food!

I doubt that she cares, Sir. Unlikely. Food is a rather scarce commodity my dear, and wasting it is uncalled for. There is sure to be a starving patient around. I doubt that they would complain. R'nya rolled his eyes good naturedly under closed lids, and carried the tray with great dignity over to the Healing Hall, pushing his way in with considerable skill and nodding to the woman behind the reception desk.

"Morning, ma'am. I would like to see the Master; do you know if he is free?" R'nya waited patiently for the lady to collect herself after the mild greeting and polite question, figuring she was far more likely to be used to rushed and clipped sentences and bitching injured people. When he was given the nod, and instructions on where to find the young man he was seeking, R'nya nodded his thanks again and made his way in that direction, carrying the tray with great dignity once more.

Reaching the door to which he had been directed, R'nya knocked politely on it, balancing the loaded tray on one hand as he did so, and watching it wobble with a cautious eye. When there came a command to enter, R'nya twisted the handle and let himself in, walking halfway across the room before coming to a halt. The tray was adjusted carefully so the man could offer a salute, before standing at ease with his offering. "Morning, Sir." R'nya's voice was as mild as ever, lingering somewhere in casual neutrality as he took a few steps forward to place the tray lightly on Talian's desk, being sure not to upset anything the young man might have already allocated space to. Stepping back, R'nya linked his hands casually behind his back, and watched the Master with the same casual expression he usually wore. "May I have a moment of your time this morning?"

15
The wingmembers of R'nya's Wing each received the following personal notes.

Quote
Dragonrider
You are to report directly to Wingleader R'nya as of 5pm on the [ DATE ] for Personal Assessment.

Riding leathers, correct dress, and your dragon are all required.

You will be dismissed for evening meal after 7pm.

Regards,

Wingleader R'nya

19.05 - Bronzeriders
21.05 - Brownriders
23.05 - Blueriders Group A [K'ren, R'nd, Unnamed Male x1]
25.05 - Blueriders Group B [Unnamed Male x3, Unnamed Female]
27.05 - Greenriders Group A [ B'jin, J'ver, K'gan, S'vi]
29.05 - Greenriders Group B [Unnamed Male x3, Unnamed Female]


* This is not required RP, but if you would like to RP it out, y'all know who to contact! I'd like you to at least assume it was compulsory and your character attended even if you don't wish to RP it. If that is the case, please take a moment to post with your IC account, a quick couple of sentences about how they fared. Remember - we all want our character to be hot shit. But keep them In Character! Not everyone will measure up right away, but they will when R'nya is done with them.

You are welcome to each Assess an NPC if you wish; I will number them in the Wing Assignment for consistency.

Things being assessed:

Rider
- General fitness and diet
- Wearing of correct dragonrider leathers
- Correct tying and displaying of ranking knots
- Correct posture and deferral to rank.
- Rider's riding straps are well cared for and maintained.

Dragon
- General fitness
- Examination of proportion (wing size, body length, weight etc. to best determine the dragon's most profitable place within the wing)
- Examination of upkeep: correct bathing, oiling and generally well cared for.
- Dragon's riding straps are well cared for and maintained.
- Dragon can take off and land with proper protocol!

Thanks!

16
Dining Hall / Face the Music [D'ren]
« on: 17 Sep 2012 at 03:56 AM »
R'nya strode with a quiet confidence into the Dining Hall, not unaware of the glances his presence was now earning when he entered a crowd. It wasn't something he was particularly against, but it was certainly rolling to be a shock to the man's system. R'nya was used to being unacknowledged; he was one of those rider's that the eyes of others usually slid over without paying much attention. It wasn't that R'nya was unattractive, or even unapproachable. The bronzerider simply preferred to remain outside of the spotlight. He had a quite, unassuming presence that made it easy to be unnoticed. Not being a colourist, R'nya didn't expect to be worshiped because he'd had the good fortune to become bonded to Xyreith so many turns ago.

As a result, R'nya had no idea what it was he'd managed to do, in order to gain D'ren's attention. Certainly, he had no idea what it was he had done that would make the Weyrleader think he was worthy of a position of Wingleader. He himself had held no rank of note before the Plague; he had only been bonded to his Xyreith for four turns - they had barely been graduates. Now, after sixteen turns of being rankless in general, the Weyrleader had saw fit to put him in control of a rag tag bunch and train them up to be a Wing. Regardless, R'nya would do the best job he could... Though he hadn't been given much to work with, not much at all.

Light eyes glanced around the Hall, noting quite a few members of his own wing, and their various responses: from those that nodded to him to those that pretended to ignore him, to the one that actually didn't see him. Turning his gaze from them without further thought or indication than a few vaguely returned nods, the Wingleader sought out D'ren. He had enquired as to the Weyrleader's whereabouts earlier in the evening, but the man had been preoccupied. Having Xyreith check in so he could visit the man after his evening meal had produced a rather well timed fact: D'ren was at his own meal.

He found the Weyrleader sitting alone, but was not particularly surprised by that, despite the fact that the other man was at a common table, rather than the raised table he was meant to occupy. R'nya was a fan of following the requirements of rank, and found it slightly baffling when other's didn't see the need. When they actively brushed away their rank, as if they didn't want it, or when they didn't enforce it for whatever reason they might have. That wasn't to say R'nya considered himself a particularly obnoxious person; he did, in fact, feel he had taken on the new rank he had been given with grace and remarkably little ego. But he still made sure his wing responded to the fact that he was their Wingleader and not a fellow wingmate.

"Sir," R'nya's voice was low and clear, the bronzerider stopping before his leader, standing at ease on the other side of the table. The pause lasted long enough for him to be the recipient of an invitation to take a seat, an action R'nya followed through with gracefully. "May I have a moment of your time?"

17
It had taken R'nya longer than he would have liked to finalise the details on not only the wing he had been assigned, but also those of his fellow Wingleaders. The bronzerider liked to think that he had made the Weyrleader's life that much easier, simply nodding his head whenever D'ren had offered him a rider. He had, of course, put in his opinion when required - so and so would surely be better suited to wing-type-A, than his own; however, he had not been like some of his fellows. 'I want so and so', 'no fucking way, D'ren.' Yeah, some of the blues and greens were bastards, but that was why they were being put into wings! To bring things into order! To restructure and put firmly into play the hierarchy of dragonriders! If a Leader was worth his salt, then it wouldn't matter what rider he had adding to his wing. A dragonrider was a dragonrider. It was their duty to obey and follow, for the betterment and protection of Pern.

Now, with the Weyr's riders sorted out into the ten wings that had been decided upon, R'nya was prepared to call his own to him. It was time to begin their discipline. Most of those in his rank had been standing idle for nearly two decades, while the other few were post graduates who hadn't done shit all since their graduation. The Weyr had been backsliding, rapidly, into a sexual cesspool of greenflights and gambling. It was about time the lazy bastards were whipped back into shape; and some of them? They were desperately out of shape!

"Xyreith! Call those lazy bastards and have them meet us at the location we decided upon. Make sure they are all given the correct image."

Of course, Sir, Xyreith responded in his rich voice, and R'nya nodded as he did a final sweep over the dragon, checking his strapping before slapping him on the shoulder. We will have stragglers, amusement vibrated in his tone, rich and deep as his gaze shifted to look at R'nya slyly. Despite the 'riders being alerted by the Weyrleader himself that practise would be starting at the Wingleader's mark, many of the dragons Xyreith informed of locations for were in various states of not ready. The bronze was highly amused (but hardly surprised) by the number of rider's caught up in sexual exploits, and the number of drowsily sunning dragons  while riders napped or stuffed their faces with a late lunch.

There had been bulletins posted for a week stating the date and time that their wing practise would commence. There was no excuse to be unprepared. Xyreith waited five minutes, before snapping a harsh, commanding string of words into the mind of every green, blue and brown that occupied his wing; he was personally pleased to see both his fellow bronzes on time and ready. A few browns, blues and a couple of greens straggled in on time, but the majority? This, will be a very interesting afternoon. Indeed.

The bronzepair remained aloft for several more minutes, watching as stragglers continued to arrive. Some were in various states of harried dress, while a few looked amused at their fellows, or slightly anxious about the setting. Xyreith's command to have everyone else land was met with rustling wings and anchoring dragons. The Wingleader watched them silently, expression stoic while his dragon hovered in an almost threatening manner above them. Only when the pair were suitably convinced, did they land.

"Anyone who is not one of the listed was late. I work with a single strike policy. If you are late again, punishment will be rewarded. Being last does not make you late. Being tardy makes you late. I will not tolerate tardiness." R'nya paused while Xyreith eyed the crowd with eyes swirling between amusement and irritation. His voice occasionally lashing out mentally to scold someone for fidgeting or not paying attention. The pause was broken when R'nya listed six names: both his fellow bronzes, a brown, two blues and a green. Anyone that groaned, moaned or sulked visibly or vocally about not being named, was taken a mental note of.

R'nya was not here to play, and these kids had a lot to learn. He spun on T'shiro suddenly. "Get them off their dragons. They are not fit to fly." He'd bet they couldn't even run twenty lengths before falling over in exhaustion. "Ten push ups, a hard sprint for six lengths, back again, and another ten push ups. Xyreith will inform Crucluith of the dragon's tasks. When the lazy bastards are set, we will join them. They will continue until I say otherwise."

He was harsh, but R'nya was fair.


Once a post order is established, please keep to it. If someone posts a LOA, they may be skipped and/or if they indicate that someone else may post before them. It simply makes it easier and I appreciate easy lol. Thanks guys =)

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Happily Plotting For

6 Years 4 Month and 14 Days

M18+ Warning

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