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!
01.Apr.19, 03:59 AM
F’drel did not like gold Flights. Too many sex-desperate riders of male dragons wandering around. And gold dragons could be proddy for days — as far as he had been able to tell, Miri didn't get proddy until just a few hours before a Flight, which was much more manageable — and their presence was so strong practically everyone could feel it. It sucked.
Due to sheer luck F’drel had mostly managed to avoid being grabbed by a lust-addled Flight loser, having only been in the wrong place at the wrong time a couple of times. At least with a gold Flight it was damn obvious when it was coming and gave F’drel enough time to get back to his weyr to hide. Even today, when he had to get from the far end of the Weyr, where he had been running an errand for the Headwoman (thankfully now completed), there was still plenty of time to get to his Weyr before losers started dropping out and grabbing conveniently located people. Well, there should have been, anyway.
Someone stopped in front of him in the hallway, and for a moment F’drel froze, worried some rider didn’t care about participating in the Flight and just wanted to get some, but after a breath he recognized one of Mylorah’s brothers. The younger bronzerider, A’tay. Who was, to F’drel’s surprise, crying and asking to be locked up somewhere.
What?
It didn’t take too long for him to catch on. F’drel recognized the slightly dazed, vacant look of someone who was partially with their dragon, and considering the context it wasn’t hard to guess what his dragon was up to. And F’drel understood, far too well, why A’tay wanted to be locked up somewhere.
“Here,” he said gently, just touching A’tay’s upper arm enough to help guide him through the hallway, “you can hide in my weyr, and I won’t stay with you. You’ll be alright.” It would mean he couldn’t try to just take a nap through the Flight — if Miri’s excitement would let him — but he’d deal. There were probably still some blankets in the storage space on Miri’s ledge from one of the times R’dal had been over, he could curl up on those if he needed to. He wasn’t going to just leave A’tay stumbling around alone trying to fight off the Flight lust. He'd probably ask someone else to lock him up, and F'drel didn't trust whatever random person he found to have good intentions. He wasn’t going to stay in the room, either, but there was no way he was abandoning the kid to having sex he couldn’t remember with some random person when he so clearly didn’t want that. He was crying, and he was what, fifteen? F’drel couldn’t remember how old Mylorah had said her brother was. Had she said? It didn’t matter. He was too young and F’drel could protect him.
Thankfully his weyr wasn’t too far, and the hallways not too crowded, and F’drel managed to direct A’tay to the weyr quickly, and without having to crowd the young bronzerider too much. He was very careful to keep as much distance between them as possible — F’drel was bringing the kid to his home, after all, he wanted to be beyond clear that he had no intention to do anything more than give A’tay a space to hide in.
“Bedroom’s all yours until the Flight’s over. I’ll stay out here,” F’drel said once they were inside, pointing towards one of the two doors in his weyr. The other led out to Halomirth’s ledge. After A’tay had hurried into the room F’drel stuck his only chair under the door handle to keep it closed. For whatever reason whoever made the weyr hadn’t put a lock on the bedroom door. Considering F’drel lived alone, it was rarely an issue, but it would have been useful today. Hopefully the chair would be good enough.
F’drel sighed, shoving back the buzzing energy of the Weyr and his dragon’s own excitement at the big event — Thallyath’s first Flight! How fun! — and set about making some klah. He was going to need his comfort drink to deal with the rest of the day.
Due to sheer luck F’drel had mostly managed to avoid being grabbed by a lust-addled Flight loser, having only been in the wrong place at the wrong time a couple of times. At least with a gold Flight it was damn obvious when it was coming and gave F’drel enough time to get back to his weyr to hide. Even today, when he had to get from the far end of the Weyr, where he had been running an errand for the Headwoman (thankfully now completed), there was still plenty of time to get to his Weyr before losers started dropping out and grabbing conveniently located people. Well, there should have been, anyway.
Someone stopped in front of him in the hallway, and for a moment F’drel froze, worried some rider didn’t care about participating in the Flight and just wanted to get some, but after a breath he recognized one of Mylorah’s brothers. The younger bronzerider, A’tay. Who was, to F’drel’s surprise, crying and asking to be locked up somewhere.
What?
It didn’t take too long for him to catch on. F’drel recognized the slightly dazed, vacant look of someone who was partially with their dragon, and considering the context it wasn’t hard to guess what his dragon was up to. And F’drel understood, far too well, why A’tay wanted to be locked up somewhere.
“Here,” he said gently, just touching A’tay’s upper arm enough to help guide him through the hallway, “you can hide in my weyr, and I won’t stay with you. You’ll be alright.” It would mean he couldn’t try to just take a nap through the Flight — if Miri’s excitement would let him — but he’d deal. There were probably still some blankets in the storage space on Miri’s ledge from one of the times R’dal had been over, he could curl up on those if he needed to. He wasn’t going to just leave A’tay stumbling around alone trying to fight off the Flight lust. He'd probably ask someone else to lock him up, and F'drel didn't trust whatever random person he found to have good intentions. He wasn’t going to stay in the room, either, but there was no way he was abandoning the kid to having sex he couldn’t remember with some random person when he so clearly didn’t want that. He was crying, and he was what, fifteen? F’drel couldn’t remember how old Mylorah had said her brother was. Had she said? It didn’t matter. He was too young and F’drel could protect him.
Thankfully his weyr wasn’t too far, and the hallways not too crowded, and F’drel managed to direct A’tay to the weyr quickly, and without having to crowd the young bronzerider too much. He was very careful to keep as much distance between them as possible — F’drel was bringing the kid to his home, after all, he wanted to be beyond clear that he had no intention to do anything more than give A’tay a space to hide in.
“Bedroom’s all yours until the Flight’s over. I’ll stay out here,” F’drel said once they were inside, pointing towards one of the two doors in his weyr. The other led out to Halomirth’s ledge. After A’tay had hurried into the room F’drel stuck his only chair under the door handle to keep it closed. For whatever reason whoever made the weyr hadn’t put a lock on the bedroom door. Considering F’drel lived alone, it was rarely an issue, but it would have been useful today. Hopefully the chair would be good enough.
F’drel sighed, shoving back the buzzing energy of the Weyr and his dragon’s own excitement at the big event — Thallyath’s first Flight! How fun! — and set about making some klah. He was going to need his comfort drink to deal with the rest of the day.
