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!
26.Jan.12, 01:11 AM
Perhaps it was a simple refusal to adjust behind why Erisi was still unhappy. As he could recall, up North he had been a far more pleasant person. Up North, he didn't have a reason to be angry every sevenday. The way he had been scooped up and sent down for the sake of some dragonrider purpose had been humiliating and violating of his right to make his own choices. His anger, for once, was perfectly justified. But, by now one would expect that Erisi should just let it go and roll with the punches. Nope. He refused. He had been kidnapped by a group of wherry-brained dragonriders who had no real purpose anymore. Thread wasn't even going to come back, so why, for Faranth's sake, were they really this eager to get their numbers back up?
Erisi visibly twitched as he strung a chord on his gitar and it sounded about as sharp as he felt. These past few sevendays since his arrival on Candidate Isle had been filled with a whole lot of him not wanting to do a thing. He imagined he should apply his trade more, since that was all he had now, but he was still feeling particularly sour. The dragonriders had made a mistake if they thought he was going to do any teaching. Entertaining was more his thing, anyways, but he doubted that would be considered as useful right now.
He didn't much care, he was going to play anyways. It was, quite possibly, the only thing that would settle his mood. Then again, when he stopped playing and remembered where he was, it'd probably come right back again. It was a miniature war going on with his moods, and the nasty one was winning. "For Faranth's sake!" he hissed underneath his breath, frustrated that he couldn't find the right note for the one string he had started tuning. It was going to be a longer day than most.
The Harper was dressed just bearably thin. He'd strip naked to escape the heat if possible, but his integrity would not allow it. The sleeves of his shirt were cut off, the top dropping down into a v-neck. He usually did not enjoy wearing shorts, but they were a necessity for today. For some reason, the sash around his waist simply couldn't be let go despite the heat. He liked it. It was the only thing that made him feel like he was dressed nicely today. The colors weren't to his liking, either. He needed to find someone who was decent at dying clothes and cheap. He longed to have more outfits in a cool blue.
The young man wasn't entirely unnoticeable within the Gather Square. He had taken care in separating himself away from most of the people - he was vindictive enough not to care about making friends. In the North, he had been in his environment, he had a nice set of friends that he liked and knew. Down here, he had nothing, and still hadn't found the drive to make anything out of his new life. This stage should have passed by a long time ago, but he was inclined to hold a grudge.
Or hundreds of grudges, for every dragonrider down here that went along down this sharding merry path their Weyrleaders wanted.
Erisi visibly twitched as he strung a chord on his gitar and it sounded about as sharp as he felt. These past few sevendays since his arrival on Candidate Isle had been filled with a whole lot of him not wanting to do a thing. He imagined he should apply his trade more, since that was all he had now, but he was still feeling particularly sour. The dragonriders had made a mistake if they thought he was going to do any teaching. Entertaining was more his thing, anyways, but he doubted that would be considered as useful right now.
He didn't much care, he was going to play anyways. It was, quite possibly, the only thing that would settle his mood. Then again, when he stopped playing and remembered where he was, it'd probably come right back again. It was a miniature war going on with his moods, and the nasty one was winning. "For Faranth's sake!" he hissed underneath his breath, frustrated that he couldn't find the right note for the one string he had started tuning. It was going to be a longer day than most.
The Harper was dressed just bearably thin. He'd strip naked to escape the heat if possible, but his integrity would not allow it. The sleeves of his shirt were cut off, the top dropping down into a v-neck. He usually did not enjoy wearing shorts, but they were a necessity for today. For some reason, the sash around his waist simply couldn't be let go despite the heat. He liked it. It was the only thing that made him feel like he was dressed nicely today. The colors weren't to his liking, either. He needed to find someone who was decent at dying clothes and cheap. He longed to have more outfits in a cool blue.
The young man wasn't entirely unnoticeable within the Gather Square. He had taken care in separating himself away from most of the people - he was vindictive enough not to care about making friends. In the North, he had been in his environment, he had a nice set of friends that he liked and knew. Down here, he had nothing, and still hadn't found the drive to make anything out of his new life. This stage should have passed by a long time ago, but he was inclined to hold a grudge.
Or hundreds of grudges, for every dragonrider down here that went along down this sharding merry path their Weyrleaders wanted.
