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!
31.Jan.20, 08:55 AM
N’mor’s eyebrows twitched at Helyna’s question of adult behaviour, and he frowned at her. Obviously he wasn’t going to run away, or he already would have run away, preferably before the woman had woken up and seen him. Luckily – or unluckily, depending on one’s point of view – N’mor had been thoroughly grilled by R’nya last time, and he didn’t fancy repeating that experience. Ever again. Besides, while it had been rather easily ignored as his being so young, he didn’t have that excuse any longer, nor did he want it. N’mor could definitely do without the whole fucking a lady thing, but he could still let his dragon claim the Clutch – especially since Iliyith’s clutch hadn’t been anything like Nadioth’s and hopefully this one would be just as mundane in comparison!
A grimace was given to Helyna’s back as she said he should stay the night, and he took the opportunity of her turned back to wrap the sheet around himself securely, and leave the bed, collecting up his clothing as the fire was stirred to life once more. “Thanks,” it came out a little dryly, but N’mor was trying not to be particularly rude despite his desire to tell the woman to shove it. It wasn’t her fault they were in this situation, or that he was apparently in a bad mood as a result. N’mor chewed on his bottom lip and gave Helyna a softer look, not quite smiling, but his expression more resigned to the whole scenario than anything else. He watched as she made her way to the bathroom and set about collecting his clothing.
Not that he was going to sleep in any of it. Nor did he have any intention of sleeping naked with a woman. He was absolutely not going to give her any ideas he was interested in more. Most folk were pretty good about ending up in a Flight with a mated person, so N’mor found himself rather heavily betting that she wouldn’t get hand-sy, even if he did stay, because most of the Weyrfolk knew he was mated, though not everyone knew to whom. Mostly because N’mor didn’t feel comfortable broadcasting the fact that he’d moved in with a bluerider. He didn’t hide it, but nor did he prance around shouting it to the world.
Making his way to the door, the sheet still wrapped around him, N’mor was intending to wave down a drudge or someone and get them to collect him some spare clothing from the inventory he new Headwomen liked to keep on hand. Pulling the door open, though, his feet were assaulted by a pack that had been resting against the door, and N’mor looked down, eyebrows lifting when he saw it was one of his own. Squatting down, he picked up the note that had been slipped in carefully, sticking out enough to be visible but not float away. The quickly scrawled words in Z’rin’s handwriting made N’mor smile fondly. It didn’t say much of anything, just Z’rin’s name with a scribble that looked somewhat lewd and made N’mor snort in amusement.
“Idiot,” N’mor said softly, with deep affection, and picked up the pack of clothing and necessities his mate had taken the time to gather and bring to him. He didn’t know if Z’rin was still in Fort – and Rhezalth was certainly not feeling inclined to chat with him – but the thought was incredibly endearing and N’mor slipped back into the room with the pack, making his way to the small table and chair and setting his pack down and digging through it. When Helyna reappeared, N’mor gave her a much warmer smile. “Care package,” he said cheerfully, picking up the lazy day, soft and comfortable clothing and a razor as he passed the woman to go and clean up himself.
When he came out of the room, fresh and clean shaved, dressed in his barely-used but very comfortable pyjamas, N’mor was exhausted and feeling not so much the weight of the day as the weight of the Flight. Glancing around to see where Helyna had gone, N’mor set the carefully folded sheet down beside his pack. He had no inclination to wash it for the woman, but he also wasn’t so rude as to leave it sprawled on her bathing room floor like a monster. Brushing his hand through his damp hair, N’mor yawned.
A grimace was given to Helyna’s back as she said he should stay the night, and he took the opportunity of her turned back to wrap the sheet around himself securely, and leave the bed, collecting up his clothing as the fire was stirred to life once more. “Thanks,” it came out a little dryly, but N’mor was trying not to be particularly rude despite his desire to tell the woman to shove it. It wasn’t her fault they were in this situation, or that he was apparently in a bad mood as a result. N’mor chewed on his bottom lip and gave Helyna a softer look, not quite smiling, but his expression more resigned to the whole scenario than anything else. He watched as she made her way to the bathroom and set about collecting his clothing.
Not that he was going to sleep in any of it. Nor did he have any intention of sleeping naked with a woman. He was absolutely not going to give her any ideas he was interested in more. Most folk were pretty good about ending up in a Flight with a mated person, so N’mor found himself rather heavily betting that she wouldn’t get hand-sy, even if he did stay, because most of the Weyrfolk knew he was mated, though not everyone knew to whom. Mostly because N’mor didn’t feel comfortable broadcasting the fact that he’d moved in with a bluerider. He didn’t hide it, but nor did he prance around shouting it to the world.
Making his way to the door, the sheet still wrapped around him, N’mor was intending to wave down a drudge or someone and get them to collect him some spare clothing from the inventory he new Headwomen liked to keep on hand. Pulling the door open, though, his feet were assaulted by a pack that had been resting against the door, and N’mor looked down, eyebrows lifting when he saw it was one of his own. Squatting down, he picked up the note that had been slipped in carefully, sticking out enough to be visible but not float away. The quickly scrawled words in Z’rin’s handwriting made N’mor smile fondly. It didn’t say much of anything, just Z’rin’s name with a scribble that looked somewhat lewd and made N’mor snort in amusement.
“Idiot,” N’mor said softly, with deep affection, and picked up the pack of clothing and necessities his mate had taken the time to gather and bring to him. He didn’t know if Z’rin was still in Fort – and Rhezalth was certainly not feeling inclined to chat with him – but the thought was incredibly endearing and N’mor slipped back into the room with the pack, making his way to the small table and chair and setting his pack down and digging through it. When Helyna reappeared, N’mor gave her a much warmer smile. “Care package,” he said cheerfully, picking up the lazy day, soft and comfortable clothing and a razor as he passed the woman to go and clean up himself.
When he came out of the room, fresh and clean shaved, dressed in his barely-used but very comfortable pyjamas, N’mor was exhausted and feeling not so much the weight of the day as the weight of the Flight. Glancing around to see where Helyna had gone, N’mor set the carefully folded sheet down beside his pack. He had no inclination to wash it for the woman, but he also wasn’t so rude as to leave it sprawled on her bathing room floor like a monster. Brushing his hand through his damp hair, N’mor yawned.
