Hello loves! While I haven't been writing, I have been working on updating some issues that have been hanging around on the layout! The Character change box is now at the bottom of the page, beside the up/down arrows! Green and Gold dragon flight dates have been shifted to the bottom of the page, where the (useless!) discord widget was located. Where the dragon flights were in the header, is now replaced by a Monthly Event box! This will be updated at the start of each month, with a fun mini-event you can take part in, if you want to! Thistle!
30.Mar.12, 05:51 AM
B'jin was feeling decidedly discontent as he sat curled on his couch, a board spread over his raised knees and his back buried in the corner of the couch, a manner of seating he was finally able to enjoy once more, though the stitches were a nuisance and B'jin was sorely sick of putting up with them. Larrikith's flight that morning had done little to help his healing wounds, and the greenrider had been less than impressed when realised he would have to get several seen to. His mood hadn't been improved when he had been informed that Talian was preoccupied with 'something far more important' and would not be available. B'jin had bit his tongue as the middle aged woman tuttered and saw to his wounds. When she'd tried to lather numbweed on his back, B'jin decided he'd had enough and ripped her a new one, flinging the pot with a backhanded slap across the room. The poor girl had ended up in tears, but she should have known better than to mess with a greenrider! Especially one who was still getting hormones and emotions under control! B'jin mumbled to himself as he drew a harsh line across the paper, sighed, and set about fixing it.
B'jin was surprised he hadn't had S'kef bashing in his door and dragging him back to the Gather Square for it, though the way Larrikith had bristled at the mere idea had had him quickly smothering the thought as he continued his work, soft lead swirling across the sheet as he worked on a greyscale image. The soft shades between black and white didn't have the eye catching glamour of colours, but B'jin preferred it because of that. Frowning slightly as he concentrated on an eye, B'jin felt Larrikith stir on the edge of his consciousness, and the warm liquid feeling as she joined her eyesight with his. Will this one be good enough? the little green asked with amused fondness. B'jin snorted, but didn't answer immediately. Depends, dearest.. Of course it does, she replied, the eyeroll in her voice if not on her features. You should eat. Not hungry, love, but you need to hunt. I know you haven't since last week. Larrikith gave a mental shrug. Since when do you keep an eye on my diet? B'jin laughed softly, and shaded a portion of his portrait. I've kept tabs on your food intake since our first day together, love.. Larrikith was highly amused. Very well then, I hunt. Will you join me?
"Naa," B'jin yawned, putting the portrait on the coffee table and standing up. He carefully stretched, grimacing when joints popped and skin stretched. "I think I'll go see what D'ren is up to." A pause. "Is he alone?" The Weyrsecond is not with him. They bathe at the lake side. B'jin's startled curiosity was thick. If he comes near you, my love, I will rip him in half, before I toss him between. That he-! "Enough." B'jin cut his dragon off, tone sharp, and he felt her withdraw, the action filled with venom like a child who was saying sorry only because there were threats hovering over their head, not because they wanted to. The rider ignored his dragon as he entered his room, and dug up something to wear, pausing only for a moment as he heard Larrikith stand on his roof and then felt her vanish between. When he was aware of her reappearance over the Hunting Ranges, B'jin went back to his self assigned task.
The searchrider swapped his lazy day and particularly comfortable (and completely tacky) pants for a pair that were much more aesthetically pleasing, but not nearly as comfortable as the well worn and much loved pair. Digging up a shirt, the man paused once more when he realised R'nd still had the one he'd worn those handful of weeks ago. Hostage indeed! B'jin smirked and decided he'd steal it back, and possibly one of the bluerider's favourites to hold hostage himself. War was war, after all, and B'jin was pretty sure his shirt missed him as much as he missed it. It would also provide R'nd with an excuse to poke around his house. The bluerider was far too twitchy about entering his home, and B'jin hadn't managed to decide if it were because he was worried about B'jin's brats popping in for a visit or if he was waiting for B'jin to kick him out. B'jin doubted either course would occur; Larrikith kept his children away and R'nd would have to push some serious buttons to end up on his arse out B'jin's door. Unable to determine which it was, B'jin had settled for not saying anything; he enjoyed R'nd's company too much and was unwilling to risk scaring the younger man off with a well meaning but badly taken comment. R'nd was flighty, and B'jin had no desire to set him off.
Tugging the shirt over his head, B'jin shoved the sleeves up messily and tied the lacing across his chest with deft movements even as he walked back through his small home. Reaching the door, the greenrider paused and then back tracked to his table. Picking up the piece of art he'd been working on, B'jin frowned at it critically. Lips pursed in irritation, he made to scrunch it up, as he had done with many before it, when Larrikith's voice ricocheted through his mind with force. If you destroy that one, too, I swear to Faranth between I will fill his head with every sharding memory I can find. B'jin froze, and stared down at the sketch. A moment later, he strode across to the bookshelf he kept tucked away, and carefully stowed the image away. "Fine," he grumbled, and left his hut, not bothering with shoes. If he couldn't destroy it, he'd just hide it. Larrikith gave a mental eyeroll, before dropping on a beast and beginning to feed.
The trip to the Weyrleader's hut was swift, with B'jin's strides purposeful and confident he slipped between the other huts, waving casual greetings at friends and stopping upon occasion to exchange a few words, laughter bubbling up with ease. By the time he reached D'ren's home, B'jin's sour mood and frustration with his artwork was well behind him. A cheerful expression on his face and his stance relaxed, the greenrider lifted a hand in greeting to the great bronze dragon relaxing outside his bonded's house. "Hey, Ronarth! D'ren up?" Not waiting for an answer he stopped before the door and knocked on it twice, before pushing it open and stepping through.
"Oi! D'ren! Get your lazy arse out of bed, man. The day is young, but you are not!" Grinning cheekily, B'jin wiped his bare feet on the doormat, before pushing said door shut with a soft flick of the wrist and making his way to the kitchen.
B'jin was surprised he hadn't had S'kef bashing in his door and dragging him back to the Gather Square for it, though the way Larrikith had bristled at the mere idea had had him quickly smothering the thought as he continued his work, soft lead swirling across the sheet as he worked on a greyscale image. The soft shades between black and white didn't have the eye catching glamour of colours, but B'jin preferred it because of that. Frowning slightly as he concentrated on an eye, B'jin felt Larrikith stir on the edge of his consciousness, and the warm liquid feeling as she joined her eyesight with his. Will this one be good enough? the little green asked with amused fondness. B'jin snorted, but didn't answer immediately. Depends, dearest.. Of course it does, she replied, the eyeroll in her voice if not on her features. You should eat. Not hungry, love, but you need to hunt. I know you haven't since last week. Larrikith gave a mental shrug. Since when do you keep an eye on my diet? B'jin laughed softly, and shaded a portion of his portrait. I've kept tabs on your food intake since our first day together, love.. Larrikith was highly amused. Very well then, I hunt. Will you join me?
"Naa," B'jin yawned, putting the portrait on the coffee table and standing up. He carefully stretched, grimacing when joints popped and skin stretched. "I think I'll go see what D'ren is up to." A pause. "Is he alone?" The Weyrsecond is not with him. They bathe at the lake side. B'jin's startled curiosity was thick. If he comes near you, my love, I will rip him in half, before I toss him between. That he-! "Enough." B'jin cut his dragon off, tone sharp, and he felt her withdraw, the action filled with venom like a child who was saying sorry only because there were threats hovering over their head, not because they wanted to. The rider ignored his dragon as he entered his room, and dug up something to wear, pausing only for a moment as he heard Larrikith stand on his roof and then felt her vanish between. When he was aware of her reappearance over the Hunting Ranges, B'jin went back to his self assigned task.
The searchrider swapped his lazy day and particularly comfortable (and completely tacky) pants for a pair that were much more aesthetically pleasing, but not nearly as comfortable as the well worn and much loved pair. Digging up a shirt, the man paused once more when he realised R'nd still had the one he'd worn those handful of weeks ago. Hostage indeed! B'jin smirked and decided he'd steal it back, and possibly one of the bluerider's favourites to hold hostage himself. War was war, after all, and B'jin was pretty sure his shirt missed him as much as he missed it. It would also provide R'nd with an excuse to poke around his house. The bluerider was far too twitchy about entering his home, and B'jin hadn't managed to decide if it were because he was worried about B'jin's brats popping in for a visit or if he was waiting for B'jin to kick him out. B'jin doubted either course would occur; Larrikith kept his children away and R'nd would have to push some serious buttons to end up on his arse out B'jin's door. Unable to determine which it was, B'jin had settled for not saying anything; he enjoyed R'nd's company too much and was unwilling to risk scaring the younger man off with a well meaning but badly taken comment. R'nd was flighty, and B'jin had no desire to set him off.
Tugging the shirt over his head, B'jin shoved the sleeves up messily and tied the lacing across his chest with deft movements even as he walked back through his small home. Reaching the door, the greenrider paused and then back tracked to his table. Picking up the piece of art he'd been working on, B'jin frowned at it critically. Lips pursed in irritation, he made to scrunch it up, as he had done with many before it, when Larrikith's voice ricocheted through his mind with force. If you destroy that one, too, I swear to Faranth between I will fill his head with every sharding memory I can find. B'jin froze, and stared down at the sketch. A moment later, he strode across to the bookshelf he kept tucked away, and carefully stowed the image away. "Fine," he grumbled, and left his hut, not bothering with shoes. If he couldn't destroy it, he'd just hide it. Larrikith gave a mental eyeroll, before dropping on a beast and beginning to feed.
The trip to the Weyrleader's hut was swift, with B'jin's strides purposeful and confident he slipped between the other huts, waving casual greetings at friends and stopping upon occasion to exchange a few words, laughter bubbling up with ease. By the time he reached D'ren's home, B'jin's sour mood and frustration with his artwork was well behind him. A cheerful expression on his face and his stance relaxed, the greenrider lifted a hand in greeting to the great bronze dragon relaxing outside his bonded's house. "Hey, Ronarth! D'ren up?" Not waiting for an answer he stopped before the door and knocked on it twice, before pushing it open and stepping through.
"Oi! D'ren! Get your lazy arse out of bed, man. The day is young, but you are not!" Grinning cheekily, B'jin wiped his bare feet on the doormat, before pushing said door shut with a soft flick of the wrist and making his way to the kitchen.
