Second Pass Weyr - AU Canon Pern

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Messages - R'nya

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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 =)

Placed across the bulletin boards throughout the Weyr, is a neatly written announcement:

R'nya's Wing - First Practice!

All members of R'nya's wing are to attend a compulsory Wing Practice on the 15.05.232 at 2pm at the Eastern Hunting Ranges.

Bronze Xyreith will supply your dragons with the location 15 minutes prior to the required start time.

- Wingleader R'nya of Bronze Xyreith

15.05.232 AL - You Lazy Bastards

R'nya watched silently as T'shiro took control, standing back without comment as he analysed the Wingsecond, expression and eyes giving away nothing of his inner thoughts. It was good, to be a member of a wing again, but that was to be expected. Not everyone seemed quite so thrilled about it, and R'nya's pale gaze shifted over each face individually, analysing those that were his wingmates, and his riders.

Not everyone was quite as good at hiding their thoughts and opinions of either himself or the bronzerider issuing the current commands, and R'nya took not of faces, body language and a few quiet comments thrown around. The Wingleader didn't call attention to anyone for any of it - slip ups or purposeful insubordination, as he watched them form their line and when T'shiro gave the mark, watched as they all dropped to the ground with varying amounts of enthusiasm, skill or strength. Lips pursed slightly, R'nya moved over to join them, dropping to the ground and preforming his own required pushups before jogging up the field.

The reason for his slower paced run was more than obvious, as he eyed off each of the other riders, nodding without words to those that were pelting back past him to complete another round of pushups and more lengths, but his eyes were seeking out those that were struggling, what they were struggling with, and why they were struggling. The greenriders were by far the worse off, struggling with sprinting and pushups; like dragon like rider, they appeared to lack the stamina of their buddies. Well, that wouldn't do. But he couldn't have them all dropping dead on him, either.

R'nya considered for a moment, dropping to the ground again to progress through another round of pushups, and watched as a greenrider struggled valiantly through them, stumbled to his feet and took off at an exhausted run. It was far from a sprint, but the man wasn't slacking. He was just... incredibly unfit. R'nya gave a sigh through his nose and climbed tidily to his feet. Jogging down the field, he noticed the easy grace of the brownriders, and several of the blue. He noticed the way they threw looks at the struggling greens, but made no move to assist them. He'd also noticed one brownrider's clumsy stumble, and the way two blues had snickered under their breath.

This wing needed a lot of work.

"Walk it off!"

His voicing of words, after over thirty minutes of watching the various rider's comply with his orders, could have been lost in the huffing, puffing and swearing of the men and women in his wing, but it appeared the majority had been waiting for them. As they complied, hands clamping stitches or simply resting on hips, R'nya walked a cool down himself, watching the others go through the motions for several minutes.Finally, R'nya raised a hand and indicated that they should come to him.

"I am disappointed in you, gentlemen." Some of them were fidgeting, a few looked ready to collapse, while others stood tall and proud. Pale, stormy eyes passed over each individual, pointedly including the three women in his statement - one had had a smirk twisting her lips, which quickly vanished; their gender would win them no relaxation of rules from him and there weren't enough of them for him to feel it worth the breath to include their gender in the statement. There was no point in sugar coating his statement, and R'nya watched their expressions with interest, though his features gave little away.

"No one asked if they should remove their dragon's flight straps. Do you often leave your beast strapped while you are otherwise occupied?" He didn't allow time for anyone to speak up in answer,  "No one asked if they should warm up before sprinting several lengths." Some of them had managed several rounds before he called a halt; several of the greenriders had barely managed three.

"Several of you are weyrmates, are you not?" He was well aware of which pairings D'ren had given to him, and he met the eye of each rider in question, watching their expressions. "Do you often stand back and watch your partner struggle?" A small pause, and one of R'nya's eyebrows arched slightly, now speaking to the group at large. "Did your Weyrlingmaster's teach you to mock your wingmates?" R'nya's expression faded back into neutral as his eyebrows lowered. "I will not tolerate stupidity, laziness or insubordination. However, I am not unfair. I am aware several of you have held various positions of rank throughout your lives as dragonriders - both before and after the Plague." He watched with inner amusement as several riders flinched at the taboo word. "There are ways to display your talents without stepping on toes and I would like to see a little more initiative, gentlemen!"

Pausing to let the wingriders take in those words, R'nya bespoke his dragon: Take their dragons for a fly. Nothing exciting. Just fly to the far boundary of the Ranges and back. Even the laziest one should be able to do that with little issue.

Yes, sir. Xyreith turned his gaze upon the dragons, broadening his mental reach to include each of them. We are to fly to the Eastern border and back. No exuberance. In the air, and in basic formation. Let's go! Pushing off from the ground, Xyreith extended his wings, pulling against gravity to take to the air first, gaze linked with R'nya's so the man could feed him instructions as required. Such as for that green! Larrikith! Xyreith's voice was a stern bark of displeasure, though R'nya was fed the shock the bronze felt at the way the dragon used between to appear in the air and hover smugly.

Leave her behind. Tell her she is to practice the art of take off until you get back. Take off, three wingbeats, land and repeat. Yes, sir. Xyreith repeated the instructions, watching as the tiny green bristled before ignoring her and eyeing off the basic formation the riderless dragons had formed. You. Xyreith turned his attention on Ayyonth at a prompt from R'nya. His voice was audible to the entire dragon wing; Mate or wing? The bronze waited mildly for the answer, interested to see the answer he'd receive, particularly after his bonded's question a moment previous to the assorted riders. How many dragons had been listening through their humans? How many dragons had more brains than their human counterpart? I am enjoying today, he commented slyly to R'nya, who ignored him.

"Ignore them." R'nya commanded, reclaiming the attention of several distracted riders as they realised something was going on with the dragons, who were still in full riding straps. R'nay didn't actually believe they needed to have them removed at present, especially since he knew most of those before him fluttered around the Weyr without them. It would do the dragons good to get used to wearing them more often than not once more. He'd get T'shiro to run a check on them all before they split for the evening; R'nya wasn't a betting man, but he knew he'd win if he bet on most of them needing to be remade - badly. "Tell me, gentlemen, how you plan to improve the function of this wing."

R'nya's expression clearly indicated he knew exactly how he was going to transform the mismatched collection of lazy would-be riders into a functioning wing. It also clearly indicated he wanted them to show the initiative he'd previously told them he wanted to see. A glance to T'shiro was given to keep the Second silent. He didn't want to hear what his Second thought they should do; he'd talk to him later about his ideas. For now, he wanted to see how many of these kids were full of hot air, how many were truly lazy, and how many actually had a head on their shoulders worth keeping for when Thread fell.

Good lord, sorry for the novel :| R'nya had a lot to say >_>

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?"

Dining Hall / Re: Face the Music [D'ren]
« on: 17 Sep 2012 at 06:00 AM »
R'nya was personally pleased that his Weyrleader was seated alone that evening. He had no desire to voice his thoughts and feelings about his new wing with the ladies poking their noses in. Not knowing any of the women in question on a personal level, R'nya couldn't say if he was being reasonable or not in his opinion that they might shove their opinion in uncalled for, or if they would let them talk in peace. They were well ranked women, and he had no desire to offend any of them. But he wished to speak to D'ren about what he had made notes of, not the Weyrwoman or her assistants.

The missing Weyrsecond was an added bonus, for the same reason. R'nya was sure that the man would likely be full of many interesting tidbits and ideas, but he was rather eager to prove his worth on his own, and he had more than enough issues with his own wingriders having more experience and opinion than he often called for. It was going to be an interesting battle, getting them into shape. Physically, mentally, emotionally. They were a mess. A rag tag combination of lazy busy bodies and sexual expansionists.

D'ren's question earned a mild look from R'nya, the younger bronzerider considering the offer thoughtfully. Leaning back in his seat silently, R'nya poured himself a glass of wine. He wasn't ignoring the Weyrleader, but rather gathering his thoughts and considering how best to begin the conversation he wished to have with the other bronzerider. "Not a lot," R'nya replied mildly, taking a sip of his drink. That, at least, was fair to say. He didn't consider there was a lot the Weyrleader could do. He was content to get his wing into shape on his own steam, but he was interested in bouncing his thoughts and opinions off the more experienced man. R'nya hadn't run a wing before, and was simply running off his experience as a wingrider prior to the plague.

But damned if that wasn't a decade and a half ago!

"Wing practice was a disaster." He peered over the edge of his wineglass as he spoke, an eyebrow arching slightly in a very vague expression of amusement. Rather than being thrown off by the fact that he'd been given a bunch of lazy, unfit bastards that had no concept of working as a team - R'nya viewed it as a personal challenge. His Weyrleader had decided he was the person to bring these men and women into shape, into line, and prepare them for the task of fighting Thread. And R'nya would be damned if he wouldn't meet his Weyrleader's expectations.

Lowering his glass, R'nya met D'ren's gaze without flinching, his expression still holding a very subtle trace of his amusement. "Some of them will measure up, in time." A few rare ones weren't all that far off, if he were honest but he didn't want to buff up egos in his wing so early on, particularly when he needed them to learn to work together. One man's success was all their success. One's loss, was all their loss. He honestly didn't feel the selfish riders he'd been burdened with had any idea how to work together. They were too busy putting themselves into self-assigned cliques and colourist groupings. They needed to learn the simply fact R'nya had learned: Every colour had their place, and a greenrider's place was not always to be under a heavy handed fist (or other bodily parts).

"A couple I have no hope for." Harsh, perhaps, but some of those riders had done very little to lift his spirits or bring him any faith in their ability to fight thread. They were unfit, untrained, untried and disrespectful. He had no idea if he'd even be able to get them to a level he considered worthy of sitting on a dragon, let alone fighting against Thread. How had half these men even graduated?!

Dining Hall / Re: Face the Music [D'ren]
« on: 17 Sep 2012 at 08:39 AM »
R'nya listened with the same respectful silence that D'ren had just shown him, pale eyes quietly focused on the Weyrleader without actually staring at the man. He was listening, attentively, though his expression was mild and gave little away of what was going inside his over active mind. The bronzerider was not surprised to hear that the Weyrleader had been receiving the same reports from the other Wingleaders.

R'nya almost frowned as D'ren chuckled, watching the Weyrleader with a slight drawing together of his brows as the other man took up speaking once more. The evaluation of his wing was little different, and R'nya nodded slightly at D'ren's explanation. He wasn't surprised that his fellows were having to deal with the same colourist and sexist nature of their Weyr. It was annoying, but not unexpected. R'nya gently placed his glass onto the table top, and shifted his gaze to watch the liquid swirl itself from the gentle motion.

D'ren's comment about about feed back on himself actually garnered a response from the young man, an eyebrow arching and startled grey eyes shifting to look at D'ren in mild amusement. R'nya was not one to set much weight on the opinion of others; they could change so swiftly and so easily. Why work himself up because someone did or did not like him? Better that they all understand the simplest of rules: Hierarchy. Do that which your superiors require, and do so with the proper respect and everyone would get along well. That wasn't to say he was displeased to be made aware that most of the feedback the Weyrleader had gotten about him was positive, that was very nice. But he wasn't overly concerned about it.

R'nya leaned back against his chair, posture as politically correct as always while D'ren brought up T'shiro. The bronzerider's opinion of his Wingsecond was still being decided upon, the man as yet unwilling to judge him too harshly, though he knew for a fact that many of his wingriders were less than pleased with the Second. "It is to be expected," R'nya said mildly, raising his glass once more to take a sip of the alcohol within. His stomach was empty, and he had no plans to eat until eh was finished his chat with the Weyrleader, so he expressed caution and restraint with the drink.

"You gave us some men who are both older and more experienced, as well as past occupants of various ranks. I am unsurprised by his desire to make sure they bowed down to him. Disappointed, but unsurprised." The bronzerider gave D'ren a mildly flat look. "I do not expect them to conform over night, Sir. I simply wished to inform you that there are a few for whom I do not believe conforming will be possible." He was going to keep the identities of the trouble makers to himself for the time being: he knew from his own experiences that there were ears everywhere and he had no wish to have them make life that much more difficult - both for themselves, and for everyone else.

"But we shall see. Perhaps they will prove me wrong." The bronzerider almost smiled, looking just mildly amused at the prospect. He would like them to prove him wrong. He just didn't think it would happen. Ever.

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

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.


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:

- 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.

- 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!


The young bronzerider watched mutely as the men and women he had been assigned slowly formed up before him. Some, he already had no hope for, though he made no indication that that was the case as he watched riders both stand at attention, and collapse at the feet of their fellows. So long as he had and maintained their attention, R'nya let it slide for the time being. They were too spread all over the spectrum to expect them to all stand before him as he would have been expecting before their exercises began. They would learn, and he would teach (and, undoubtedly, learn himself) as the turn progressed. For now, however, he was content to let them sit when doing so would undoubtedly bring him more of their attention than trying to keep them on their feet.

While a couple offered a few ideas and opinions, most of the wing chose to stay silent, either meeting his gaze or pointedly looking at the ground to avoid being called attention upon. Again, R'nya let it lie, for now, as he instead stoically took in the opinions of the brownriders that stepped forward. He noted both bronzeriders kept their opinions to himself - T'shiro because he had required it of his Second, and M'bal because he appeared to be content scowling at R'nya. The bronzerider had no idea what he'd done to receive the other man's displeasure, but it wasn't a hard conclusion to draw that it was the title he now carried.

The movement of S'kef called R'nya's wandering attention back to course, though all the wing would see would be a slowly shifting gaze of blue-grey eyes as he changed their focus to be from travelling over his fellow riders to focusing on S'kef himself. An eyebrow arched slightly to indicate the other man should speak, and nodded slightly when he stated something intelligent. While R'nya hadn't made a comment on, or given any indication of emotion towards Brownrider Stox or Brownrider05's contributions, he'd found them less than insightful. He wasn't surprised the ex-Weyrsecond actually had a head on his shoulders, though he again made no comment beyond a slight inclining of his head.

"It would seem the dragons are as full of team spirit as their riders are." R'nya's voice was mild, and neither here nor there as he spoke. Indicating that they should all turn their attention to the beasts, he watched with interest as the blue and green continued their exercises, while the rest hovered. Turning back to his wing, R'nya let his gaze travel over each of their faces, watching their features and noting reactions before resting on the two men bonded to the dragons in question. Curled up together, and both visibly albeit individually, shamed. The bronzerider gave a short nod again, and lifted his gaze to include the entire wing.

"Gentlemen. We are going to learn to function as a team," a small pause and he indicated for Xyreith to have all the dragons land, a command the bronze passed on, also calling halt to the task Larrikith and Ayyonth were taking part in, and any of those who might have seen fit to join them. "In the mean time, individual assessment," a nod of acknowledgement was given to S'kef, "will be conducted in the evenings over the course of the next several days. Bulletins will be posted to indicate time and grouping. They will occur at my hut."

Pausing for a moment to let that sink in, R'nya let Xyreith dismiss the dragons, the beasts settling at their leisure; the bronze walked with great dignity to stand behind his rider, watching the little humans with obvious amusement. "You are dismissed. I suggest several of you take the time to stretch, or you will be incredibly sore very shortly." A soft, tolerant amusement touched on his tone there, eyes glancing over several of the collapsed men. And bathe, Xyreith added, for R'nya alone, his tone bored. The stench of sweaty human is overwhelming. R'nya pursed his lips to refrain from smiling.

You can break post-order. If anyone wants to chat with him, they're welcome to. Either in this thread or another =)

Dining Hall / Re: Face the Music [D'ren]
« on: 20 Sep 2012 at 08:05 AM »
R'nya's stiff posture leant back just slightly, the only visible sign of any state of relaxation as the bronzerider watched his Weyrleader with an internal amusement though it made no claim upon his features; even his lightly coloured gaze was without any particular sparkle that would indicate his train of thought. A slight twitch collected R'nya's eyebrows for a moment, though it was gone almost as fast as it had appeared.

The sparkle finally appeared in his eyes as D'ren pulled himself up mid sentence and blushed with a laugh. The younger man allowed a small smile to curl up one corner of his lips, raising his glass slowly to hide the expression as he sipped lightly at the liquid. "On the contrary," R'nya stated mildly, the amusement not quite hidden as it leaked into his voice. He wasn't laughing at the Weyrleader, but he found his antics worthy of the emotion and was having trouble smothering it down - a testament of exactly how amused by D'ren he currently was. R'nya was a master of his own emotions, or rather, simply not sharing them. "Fun and games is exactly what I have planned for them." The light gaze turned slightly sly as R'nya lowered his glass.

"Weyrling based activities, actually. As you said, they are as much a team as the newly Impressed. Weyrling team activities are generally good natured and their riders-to-be are hardly in desired shape," R'nya shrugged slightly, realising he was babbling himself now. "I expect many of them will find it demeaning," he was unsure if he should be amused or concerned that he could name several of those individuals before they even got a wiff of what he had planned, "but it works on weyrlings, and no one has more to learn than the Newly Impressed."

While R'nya planned to use some of the more traditional weyrling activities to train his wing back up to standard and get them to work together as a team with a little more enthusiasm than their first practice had brought about, he mostly planned to bastardise the activities. These men knew what was needed of them; they just required assistance with remembering how to do it. R'nya would like to see anything do that faster than demotion to weyrling status during wing practice.

Realising he still hadn't answered D'ren's final question, R'nya considered it for a moment, thinking over his wing and the interactions he had viewed for the short time they had all been collected together.

"Not currently, Sir. I will be calling them in for Assessment later in the month." R'nya swirled his glass lightly, watching the liquid make its rounds before returning his gaze to D'ren's face, meeting his Weyrleader's eye mildly. "I plan to meet with the young Master Healer tomorrow - I know a few of my riders have been in his care for various reasons." And he wanted to find out why, so he could avoid putting them back there. "In the meant time, I plan to let them over think." Perhaps that was mean, but R'nya could cope with that. They needed time to think on what he had said during their wing practice, and what he would say during their Assessment sessions. After that, well, "Regular wing practice will build up slowly. I have little desire to give them heart attacks." R'nya failed to smile, but his eyes sparkled mischievously as he tossed a subtle wink at D'ren that could easily be missed by a casual observer, or even the Weyrleader himself.

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?"

Dining Hall / Re: Face the Music [D'ren]
« on: 21 Sep 2012 at 06:51 AM »
"They do not really know to expect anything different," R'nya replied quietly, not bothering to broaden upon the simple statement. The Weyrleader was a smart man, and he would know what it was the younger bronzerider was angling at; even the high and happy events were tarnished by bloodbaths and death. Hatchings full of maulings, Renewed Hope more like Crushing Hope with the number of youngsters that were lost before graduation. Nirinath flying erratically, and the young gold gorging and barely managing a handful of eggs. Gathers and events boiling down to brawls and scandals. Leaning back almost casually in his seat, R'nya decided fun and games, was exactly what his would-be wing needed. They were used to all the wrong kinds of fun. Clean fun would be very good for them.

"Do it anyway," R'nya said mildly, the words carrying a very subtle indication that he was being sly. D'ren was the Weyrleader, he could boss his wing around as he saw fit. Of course, making a bunch of bronze and brownriders dance around like children would probably only convince them that their Weyrleader was off his tree. But it would encourage the other Wingleaders to do the same, and if everyone was being forced into such an indiginity, than they could all tell them to shut up. Not that it really mattered, R'nya planned to use his method regardless, but the Weyrleader would get less whining wingriders knocking on his door if he did it too. R'nya's lip twitched in his amusement, but he said nothing more. It was not his place to tell the Weyrleader what to do or how to do it, and he'd already stated he thought the other man should anyway. Besides, the Weyrleader's wing was liable to have an ego simply being in the Weyrleader's wing.

"I had wandered about that, Sir," R'nya admitted, leaning forward enough to place his wineglass lightly upon the table top. His pale gaze met his Weyrleader's without blinking for a moment. He had been curious as to the allocation of several of the men and women throughout the various wings, and why they had been placed where they had. In the end, the young man had decided that the Weyrleader had placed - not so much spies, as informatives - throughout the wings to report back their opinions on the way said wings were being lead, with less bias in their reports than the general members or even the Seconds. At any rate, R'nya didn't feel he had anything to hide, and was unconcerned about any 'spies' within his wing.

"I do not think they even acknowledged one another," R'nya said mildly, thinking back to the day of wing practice with a thoughtful not-quite-frown. "They were pretty wrapped up in their mates." Like D'ren, R'nya was not against the couplings of men, and while he'd had the incredible bad luck to find his bronze win the very rare green that was male ridden, the man did not linger on the details, or in the room. Xyreith was a generally agreeable dragon, however, and had the good taste to only chase female ridden more often than not. It wasn't quite as terrible an indignity. Apologies, Sir Xyreith said mildly, amused. R'nya ignored him.

Dining Hall / Re: Face the Music [D'ren]
« on: 22 Sep 2012 at 10:18 AM »
R'nya raised his right hand and scratched lightly at his cheek, a small narrowing of his eyes the only outward indication of his otherwise thoughtful consideration to the things his Weyrleader had just said. He wasn't surprised to learn that the other man's wing was full of sour riders, but it was also unfair and disrespectful of the men in question to give their Weyrleader attitude. R'nya lowered his hand and picked up his glass once more, watching the liquid tilt before lifting his gaze to meet D'ren's once more. "We barely top two hundred riders, Sir," R'nya said quietly, thoughtful and dignified. What were the riders expecting? To all receive their own wing? Whom would they lead? Xyreith asked rhetorically, highly amused as he helped himself to commenting on R'nya's thoughts. Three greens and a blue? Xyreith snorted softly in the back of his mind. "There can only be so many wings."

"I noticed," R'nya returned mildly. He was one to notice a lot of things, especially at times when people were not noticing him. The young Wingleader had been in his usual place at one of the Weyrleader's announcements: close enough to hear what needed to be heard, and far enough away to be overlooked or simply remain unseen. If nothing else, R'nya could appreciate the stir Weyrleader D'ren had caused by assigning him as a Wingleader. It had pleased the young man as much as it amused him to discover just how unknown he was within the Weyr. After, of course, he had gotten over the shock of the Weyrleader picking him out. He had never done anything particularly note worthy in his life, and did not consider himself someone that would be considered. Oddly, he didn't realise that that in itself was likely the reason the Weyrleader had chosen him and many of his fellows. A lack of demanding the lime light - either through arrogance or ignorance - was something he had in common with many of his fellow Wingleaders, though he had, in an odd display of ignorance, not noticed that particular fact presently.

"Embarrassment, most likely, Sir. They are both private men." Neither had made much show of their relationships prior to the Announcement, and neither had they claimed to be mates to R'nya's knowledge since. Neither pair denied it, but he had yet to hear - in person, or on the grape vine - any of the four men confirm in their own words and voice that their mated status was more than Weyr gossip. The fact that everyone else could see it was rather irrelevant, obviously. "Yes and no," R'nya murmured thoughtfully. As their Wingleader, R'nya felt it was his right and a priority to be aware of the relationships within the wing, and the current standings of all the couples. If they were having personal issues, he felt he needed to know - it was liable to affect the quality of the Wing's workout, and he didn't wish to have squabbling or cat fights causing interruptions. It was also why he had a solid list of when the greens' flew when on his desk, and who flew each most regularly. He didn't need proddy greens disrupting Practice any more than required, and mated pairs were easier to dismiss for the day to the other side of the Lake than to have them causing issues in his wing continually.

R'nya nodded slightly, "It is," he agreed, though he had his own views on some of his dragons, too. The little green belonging to B'jin was a particular worry, with her unorthodox method of taking off by using between to get up and into the air. From what he had seen of her the day of Practice, she was a well proportioned albeit little dragon. There was no need for her to be so... dangerously lazy and he had no idea why she was so intent upon her method. Thinking back, he could rarely recall the mossy coloured dragon taking off traditionally. Obviously, he would need to quiz her rider on what was going on there. "Xyreith enjoyed it, too." Of course, his bronze enjoyed it because he got to be a bossy bastard to the less worthy colours; R'nya's lips pursed subtly at his dragon's colourist nature, but he didn't comment on it. "I fully expect that you will see a notable improvement in the Weyr at large before the Turn is done." Though that might be pushing it, with the turn half gone. Well, improvement was improvement, and even if the only improvement they were seeing was more eating and sleeping and less fighting, than it was still a positive result.

Dining Hall / Re: Face the Music [D'ren]
« on: 23 Sep 2012 at 08:24 PM »
R'nya didn't respond at D'ren's question, instead he simply watched silently as the Weyrleader considered it all very thoughtfully, the younger bronzerider mildly though invisibly amused. The Weyrleader's conclusion was met with a subtle nod, though it was one of neither agreement nor disagreement, simply an acknowledgement of the conclusion the other man had drawn. Like the Weyrleader, R'nya was someone that could easily be considered prudish, though he had the added benefit of having been out of the spotlight for the past decade. That wasn't a luxury he would be able to claim much longer, but the bronzerider wasn't thinking about that or what the wing he had been assigned may make of his lack of sexual appetite.

The Weyrleader's rather pointed and sharp warning about his ex second had one of R'nya's eyebrows arching just slightly; a subtle but visible indication of his surprise at the way in which the Weyrleader had spoken. IT wasn't that R'nya didn't consider the warning useful or that he was unthankful for it, so much as he considered it a little unexpected. As his upraised eyebrow slowly lowered, R'nya followed through with a small jerk of his chin, acknowledging the warning and letting the Weyrleader see he had done so with a small nod.

It was expected for a weyrmate to protect their partner, and it was not at all unusual for those of the male dragons to stand up for their usually more delicate female riding partner. R'nya was not at all surprised to hear that S'kef would spring to his mate's defence if required - or not required - and expected there would be no less response from any of the other mated pairs. Considering the number of pairs he had within his wing, the bronzerider was more worried about catfights from proddy greenriders and jealous blues and browns hissing over their shoulders at each other.

"Trust is earned." R'nya stated simply, when warned against J'ver. All of his riders were given a rudamentry level of trust, which was the type that required building upon of they wanted to get anywhere in his wing, if they wanted leeway or actual respect. He was prepared to trust them to care for their dragons but it was apparent he couldn't even trust the majority of them to show up on time, much less keep his - or one another's - back free of knives.

While R'nya was mildly curious as to what it was the greenrider in question had done to spark the Weyrleader's wariness, the young man didn't push or question, instead he simply looked thoughtfully into his wine glass. He already had some idea of whom in his wing would be definite trouble makers. J'ver hadn't been on that list, though he knew the greenrider could be particularly catty. He would keep an eye on him, to be safe, though. It was better to be prepared than to wake up with regrets.

"I will be cautious." An eyebrow arched up again, an indicator that R'nya meant that statement to cover all the particular members of his wing, not just those that D'ren had pointed out. He was not going to single out someone on the Weyrleader's say so; that would create a bias, not remove it. Instead, he would simply keep a harder eye on the lot of them.

Sorry. R'nya had nothing more to add but didn't want to dismiss himself >_>

Healing Hall / Re: A Spoonful of Sugar [Talian]
« on: 25 Sep 2012 at 05:01 AM »
The young Master Healer's response was not unexpected, nor did it go unnoticed by the dragonrider quietly studying the young man he had come to see. Talian was an interesting one, and R'nya was not unaware of the ups and downs that had been a part of the Master's life since arriving at Katila, any less than he was aware of the fact that one of his greenriders considered the young man to be his child (a rather ironic relationship, when considering that the man's mate was barely any older than the Master) and that he had been the leading carer for several of his wingriders during the past turn or so.

"Thank you," R'nya responded mildly, his voice pitched lower and with a more calming effect than he would normally level into it. He knew Talian was a skittish one, and he had no desire to send the young man fleeing from him. He needed his advice, and his assistance, if the Wingleader was going to do his job properly, and bring the dragonriders he had been assigned into line without pitching the better part of the group back into Master Talian's hands and patient beds.

R'nya stood at ease as Talian inched toward his desk, not even trying to appear un-threatening; while the bronzerider had the ability to pull his wing into line - a rather interesting fact he had learned recently - the man's general appearance was relaxed, and unassuming; a major factor in why eyes had simply slid past him over the past fifteen turns.

"I would appreciate your advice, Sir. You are aware that the Weyrleader has reassigned Wings?" He was sure everyone was aware, even if not everyone were interested. The number of whining dragonriders that had been slinking around the Weyr, it was hard to miss. He was also sure the Hall had seen more than its fair share of them after each of the first Wing sessions. "The Weyrleader has honoured me with leadership of one. I would appreciate your insight into the health of several of the riders I know have been in your care over the past turn." R'nya paused, watching Talian silently for a moment. "I do not wish for you to break your confidences. I simply need to know how far I can push these men, without putting them in a patient's bed."

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.

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.

- 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.

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

- 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

- 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.

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

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

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

- Practice cancelled due to Larrikith flying shortly after commencement.

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

Gather Square / Re: The Bulletin Board (OPEN)
« on: 02 Oct 2012 at 09:17 AM »
R'nya was quite pleased with the outcome of the small Hatching. With a clutch that size and sired by a brown, it had been widely accepted that naught more than greens and maybe a blue would come of it. While half the clutch had shown themselves to be green, the appearance of the little gold and the quick actions of the Searchriders to get the correct Candidates out before the young creature had been very interesting. The little blue and brown would be welcome additions and R'nya knew they wouldn't be over looked, though he was quite aware of the attention the young gold and her new rider-to-be would draw. Appropriate steps would be taken this time, he was sure, to prepare the young woman for the unlikely occurrence of her own beast rising as early as her dam had. He doubted it would happen, but was it not better to be safe than sorry?

Musing silently to himself, R'nya strode through the crowd with considerable more ease than he had the turn before; a fact he was not unaware of. Being a Wingleader had its benefits, that was not to be questioned, and while he appreciated being able to traverse a large crowd with politely side stepping weyrfolk, he did miss being able to shift through a solid crowd without eyes lingering for more than a moment, and without being recognised or remembered. Now, he was quite positive he would never have that anonymity back, but he would survive. What were the riders of Katila, if not survivors? Fools, apparently.

R'nya paused slightly at his dragon's smooth, deep voice filtered into his over active mind. An eyebrow arched slightly, curious as to the prompt of comment from the bronze beast. His attention was directed toward the group of men and the young lady standing chatting by the bulletin board. Still standing silently, the Wingleader watched without expression as a bluerider joined them, and apparently had something of interest to say, judging by the expressions that rode across the young faces. Watching as the man in question turned and vaulted onto his dragon, R'nya found himself mildly curious. D'hys, while undoubtedly known as bit of a trouble maker and firm in his opinions, was not often seen without his snippy little sidekick flouncing along beside him. What were they up to, and why had he been getting the face of the young man?

Curious in spite of himself, R'nya began to approach the group, far more interested in finding out what D'hys had said to them than because he cared why they had gathered in the first place. The bluerider was not known for his fraternising with Candidates, which in and of itself told the Wingleader he had good cause to investigate. As he approached, he noted the changes in expressions and stance, and the way the young woman looked as if she'd like to sink into the ground or vanish between only confirmed his need to know what had just been happening.

R'nya's expression was mild as he finally came to a stop before the small gathering, meeting the eyes of each of the young men before arching an eyebrow when the young woman avoided his gaze. "Gentlemen, miss." It was only after he had spoken his greeting that the pale eyed man spotted the new note attached to the bulletin board. A subtle frown tugged his eyebrows together for a second before smoothing out. D'ren may have posted something on his way to the Hatching, which wouldn't be completely unusual, since the Weyrleader was not required to inform anyone if he wished to initiate a change in some rule or another. Shifting his gaze away from the note R'nya caught the letters that formed his name and blue-grey eyes snapped back of their own accord.

Lips thinned into a line as the young man stepped lightly around the lady without touching her, and he stared quietly at the parchment, reading it slowly. His lips didn't release from the firm line they had formed, as he carefully removed the pin holding the sheet of offending paper to the board and turned around, folding it carefully and putting it within his pocket. Once more, he met the gazes of the young men and woman before him. His expression was once more mild, neither here nor there, pale eyes unreadable as he read their expressions. After a moment, he finally spoke. His voice, like his expression, was mild and without any expressed emotions. Deep, and a genuinely calming pitch, he made no threat with his question. It was simple, and to the point but gave nothing away about what he would do with any information given.

"Did D'hys post this?"

Gather Square / Re: The Bulletin Board (OPEN)
« on: 07 Oct 2012 at 08:47 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!

Feel free to continue the thread guys! I'll start a new one for S'kef. Sorry about R'nya's abrupt exit. He is not social -__-;;

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!

Healing Hall / Re: A Spoonful of Sugar [Talian]
« on: 10 Oct 2012 at 07:29 AM »
R'nya neither commented on nor brought attention to his recognition of Talian's lack of comfort with him being in the office. The bronzerider gave a single nod of thanks as Talian agreed to assist him, watching with quiet calm as the young man moved about to get the things he needed in order to do so. Pale blue-grey eyes traced the young man's movements as he settled back at the desk, a slight frown creasing R'nya's forehead as he nodded at the introduction of the first bluerider.

It wasn't good, to hear of such medical conditioning in his wingriders, but R'nya was not surprised. In general, a dragonrider's lifestyle kept them much more fit and healthy than the average Pernese, and so kept issues such as blood pressure under control, as well as weight, diet, and physical abilities. That the Katilan population had lived such a relaxed lifestyle - as far as being a dragonrider was concerned - for the past decade spoke of how badly they needed to be put back into regular wing practices and exercises.

"I see." There was a hint of disapproval in R'nya's voice when he spoke, lips pursing into a flat line at the mentioning of the greenrider. More than a couple of his greenriders had particularly bad diets and he had already planned on personally making sure they pulled their acts together and ate better. It looked like he'd have to keep his eye on the women as well. While she may be the only one medically treated, R'nya wasn't above believing that such may be a common enough issue with the other women.

An eyebrow arched up R'nya's forehead, giving Talian a slightly sceptical look as he tried to figure out exactly how big a deal Greenrider B'jin's apparently 'untreatable' medical condition was. Delaying his recovery would prove bothersome if he were injured, but it would also depend upon the type of injury. R'nya pondered on that as he watched Talian prepare himself to speak of the next rider. The fear that came with bringing up S'kef wasn't at all missed, but it wasn't given undue attention either. S'kef was well known in some circles as sadistic and cruel. It was the kind of quiet talk that R'nya had taken turns to gather with any success. Being a wallflower had it's advantages and he enjoyed knowing things about his riders that they didn't know he knew. It kept him ahead of the game, and when your wing had ambition within it such as S'kef, M'bal and T'shiro, keeping ahead of the game was crucial if he wanted to be the best possible help to the Weyrleader in keeping them all securely under his thumb and in ranks the Weyrleader dictated they were to be retained within.

R'nya watched the file snap shut without blinking, pale gaze lifting to meet Talian's. "I do not believe so, Sir." He murmured thoughtfully, playing over the information he had been given. After a few more moments, R'nya's eyebrows lowered into a thoughtful frown, eyes seeking out Talian's gaze seconds later. When he saw nothing that would assist with unravelling the puzzle he was working on, R'nya decided to speak up. "Does his condition restrict first aid treatment?" He couldn't think of anything himself but the way the young man spoke belied a seriousness R'nya didn't quite understand being viable. Regardless, the Wingleader had no desire to attempt first aid and kill the man; greenriders were far too valuable. Never mind the Master's personal investment in the so named green.

Dining Hall / Re: A Lesson in Humility [R'nya]
« on: 10 Oct 2012 at 08:42 AM »
While there was a plate beside him and a knife resting upon it, it was quite obvious that the majority of R'nya's attention was focused heavily on the sheets of parchment he was occasionally shuffling around, and the pen he was twisting between his fingers, occasionally tapping the tip of it against the parchment before shifting to another sheet and jotting down a note.

He'd only been Wingleader for a short period of time, and while R'nya knew he had vastly over thought the process in the first few sevendays, he was content to think he'd found his pace when it came to organising the lessons. The evaluations the month prior had been insightful and R'nya had reacted accordingly - he liked to think. There were complaints, of course, but he had the Wing playing children's games in the Gather Square when he didn't have them running laps or doing pushups. Complaints were to be expected. Thus far, the Weyrleader had yet to respond negatively to any of his reports and so R'nya was content with his progress. He could only improve, and improve he would, and so too would his wing.

As he shifted sheets, R'nya picked up a slice of wherry, chewing it thoughtfully and wiping his fingers on the cloth beside his plate as he watched a group of weyrbrats gather around a table without really seeing them. He was busy trying to decide what it was he should have the Wing undergo in three days time when they were due for their next practice... The tossing of the cloth by the children brought his attention back to them more fully and R'nya watched without expression as the ringleader stepped forward and mocked a visibly smaller brat. The bronzerider's eyebrows twitched slightly, almost frowning, before he slowly took his gaze from the children as the group walked off, leaving the tiny brat alone.

When the child made his way to his table, R'nya again lifted his gaze from the sheets of parchment he had been working on. Watching as the boy started at the far end of the table, R'nya carefully and neatly stacked his papers into a pile and put them to one side. The wingleader gave the weyrbrat a polite nod of his head as he also shifted his plate to one side, shuffling the papers and picking out the one he wanted. His eyes narrowed thoughtfully  before lifting to look at the boy.

"What is your favourite game, boy?"

while his voice very well may have come out of no where, it was rich and low, a warm and soothing sound that R'nya didn't play up at all. His eyes were clear and pale as he searched the boy's face, not unaware of the various evidence in his posture and body language that belied various styles of abuse, but not feeling it worthy of his comment at that point.

Healing Hall / Re: A Spoonful of Sugar [Talian]
« on: 16 Oct 2012 at 06:59 PM »
R'nya's usually unruffled features contorted into a mild frown, the bronzerider considering seriously that which Talian had just told him with a light pursing of the lips. Obviously, the greenrider had something going on as far as being drugged was concerned. Allergies were uncommon, and the young Master Healer hadn't given anything that would indicate an allergy; R'nya assumed the greenrider was simply one of those that responded extremely to being drugged. Not overly surprising, considering the man's flighty nature.

The Wingleader gave a thoughtful nod, his gaze far away as he considered what he had been offered. Perhaps he would need to speak to the greenrider himself. At any rate, he would need to speak to the wing to make sure everyone was aware of the restrictions placed upon the greenrider should he require first aid. He wouldn't have the young Master angry with him because one of his wingriders did something stupid.

"Very well. Thank you, Sir." R'nya's expression cleared and he looked back up at Talian, eyes bright and alive. The bronzerider saluted smartly, completely serious, before excusing himself. He knew enough to know that the young Master likely wouldn't realise he was waiting to be excused if he stood around waiting, so he took it upon himself.

The visit had been short, and to the point, but R'nya felt much more confident in his ability to keep his wingriders on par now, and while the conversation surrounding Greenrider B'jin was both confusing and somewhat worrisome, there was no need to get overly anxious about it. He'd likely need to speak to the greenrider eventually though, before alerting at least his Wingsecond.

Giving Talian a last nod of gratitude, R'nya slipped outside and shut the door lightly, striding down the hall with determination.

You can tag again with Tal, or lock it up. S'up to you dear <3

Dining Hall / Re: A Lesson in Humility [R'nya]
« on: 16 Oct 2012 at 09:02 PM »
He's a bit dense, isn't he, Sir? Xyreith's voice was mild and amused as he watched the exchange between Wingleader and Weyrbrat through R'nya's eyes. The rider made no response as he watched the boy stare around before finally looking at him. A single eyebrow arched upward, and R'nya gave the weyrbrat a dry look of amusement.

"Apparently." The word was drawled, but not unkindly as R'nya nibbled absently on a slice of wherry meat, blue-grey eyes watching as Bordtai considered his question with droll amusement. The bronzerider wasn't used to children, and had little to do with them if he could avoid it; preferring instead to watch them from a distance. If he had any brats in Katila (which he was sure there was one or two) R'nya had not claimed them, and had no desire to do so. Children were best viewed from a distance.

He speaks! Xyreith mocked, playing at shock as he snickered in the back of R'nya's mind when the young brat finally took to answering his rider. Again, R'nya ignored him but Xyreith was unworried; R'nya rarely took part when the bronze dragon mocked others. It was something that their partnership had never encompassed together; Xyreith was all the colourism and nastiness that had been washed clean from R'nya's slate by the time the pair graduated. Where the rider would obey anyone that was higher ranked than him, his dragon was not above making snide comments about them on the side. A habit that encompassed all creatures: no one was safe from Xyreith's snide commentary.

"Hrm," R'nya responded, flicking through his papers to find one in particular and bring it to the top of the pile. He considered for a moment before shaking his head slightly. "That one will not work." He said, more to himself than to Bordtai as he mulled it over. The game might work in the future, but he considered the group too green presently to play a game such as that. His gaze lifted to meet that of the child. "What other games do you know of?"

Dining Hall / Re: A Lesson in Humility [R'nya]
« on: 18 Oct 2012 at 06:21 PM »
R'nya smiled slightly, the expression incredibly subtle and something most people wouldn't even consider a smile on someone else. For the bronzerider, it was almost as out there as grinning. Blue eyes sparkled softly as the boy asked his question, the bronzerider feeling perhaps a little more mischievous than he was want to display.

"My wingriders," he said, voice low and almost sly as he watched the child wipe the table almost absently now. "Tag should work," He murmured, flicking through his sheets and making a couple of notes as he did so. "Not hide and seek, however." That was pretty much asking his riders to all vanish for the remainder of the day and avoid being spotted by him, which, while not the total objective of the game, he didn't doubt they'd interpret it. That would be an enjoyable day to spend the day, Sir, Xyreith inserted, his voice mild and serious.

R'nya smiled slightly again. "Any others?"

Sorry but you are not allowed to view spoiler contents.

The Hatching Circuit / Re: We Have A Fanclub [S'kef]
« on: 20 Oct 2012 at 05:40 AM »
R'nya was never one to beat around the bushes, namely because he frankly saw no point in such things. It perhaps didn't help that he was not an overly vocal person; he saw no need in extra words and often - more often than not - was content to speak with the use of body language. Usually he himself did such things with an upraised eyebrow, though with the words he'd just read, R'nya wondered if he'd ever be able to raise his eyebrow again. Unfortunately - or perhaps fortunately - it was such a force of habit that stopping would be nigh on impossible. Much like some people chewed their fingernails of finger-combed their hair.

The bronzerider was aware that the brownrider before him was another such; he was to the point and rarely messing around with unnecessary words. For that reason, despite S'kef's mild question, R'nya did not bother to answer him in voice. Rather, the Wingleader reached into his pocket and pulled out the sheet of parchment he had folded and placed within. He unfolded it without any particular flair, glanced at it (half hoping it might have changed in the few minutes since he'd last seen it) grimaced and offered it to S'kef.

Than he folded his arms over his chest and rocked back on his heels, waiting.

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Happily Plotting For

7 Years 2 Month and 17 Days

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