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!
15.Aug.12, 11:30 PM
The heat of the sun was seeping out as the days progressed, something the entire Weyr was grateful for. This meant work wasn’t halted midday for a rest anymore and everyone was expected to show for whatever chores or duties they had.
Except for today.
Doors were locked and equipment stored away shortly before noon as a passive aggressive move to prevent any determined souls from partaking in their work. The gather square was cleared except for a small platform. Two poles stood on the platform a short distance apart with a rope tied securely to each one. To threaten or to use, it was unclear.
N’gelt sat with his back against one of these poles, a long whip curled in his lap. Despite his best arguments, D’ren had refused to let him acquire a whip with more than one prong to it, which was sorely disappointing to him. Resigned to a normal whip he ran his fingers along it, watching as people slowly filtered into the square.
Some sadistic part of him hoped that Sanderon would be a trouble child, that he would think he could overpower him, all that fun stuff. He’d only briefly seen him before, mostly while he was being dragged back into the Weyr after yet another escape attempt. The boy was simply stupid. After being given three lashes by S’kef, which N’gelt thought was rather light personally, it seemed that Sanderon was blindly determined to try and escape. N’gelt wondered if he had talked to any of the other northerners who had tried to escape, particularly that one... That woman who had caused the first non-rider weyr arrest. He couldn’t remember her name, nor did he care. He was just glad he hadn’t had to babysit her. But he figured that she, of everyone, might be able to snap him out if it. If they had spoken, it clearly hadn't worked, or N'gelt wouldn't be sitting where he was right now.
When noon arrived he stood, holding the coiled whip in one hand while the majority of Katila’s population gathered before him. He looked around, waiting for both Sanderon and Tsuen to arrive. He already knew how many lashes were to be handed out, but he would wait for D’ren’s go-ahead, of course. Saquith stood nearby, his eyes whirling a concerned yellow. Why are you happy? He asked softly. ‘Because this will stop those idiots trying to flee. Trying to flee from dragonriders, how stupid can they be?’ N’gelt was too wrapped up in his desire to lash the boy to bother brushing his Brown away. All they had to do was stop running... It wasn’t that hard was it?
Except for today.
Doors were locked and equipment stored away shortly before noon as a passive aggressive move to prevent any determined souls from partaking in their work. The gather square was cleared except for a small platform. Two poles stood on the platform a short distance apart with a rope tied securely to each one. To threaten or to use, it was unclear.
N’gelt sat with his back against one of these poles, a long whip curled in his lap. Despite his best arguments, D’ren had refused to let him acquire a whip with more than one prong to it, which was sorely disappointing to him. Resigned to a normal whip he ran his fingers along it, watching as people slowly filtered into the square.
Some sadistic part of him hoped that Sanderon would be a trouble child, that he would think he could overpower him, all that fun stuff. He’d only briefly seen him before, mostly while he was being dragged back into the Weyr after yet another escape attempt. The boy was simply stupid. After being given three lashes by S’kef, which N’gelt thought was rather light personally, it seemed that Sanderon was blindly determined to try and escape. N’gelt wondered if he had talked to any of the other northerners who had tried to escape, particularly that one... That woman who had caused the first non-rider weyr arrest. He couldn’t remember her name, nor did he care. He was just glad he hadn’t had to babysit her. But he figured that she, of everyone, might be able to snap him out if it. If they had spoken, it clearly hadn't worked, or N'gelt wouldn't be sitting where he was right now.
When noon arrived he stood, holding the coiled whip in one hand while the majority of Katila’s population gathered before him. He looked around, waiting for both Sanderon and Tsuen to arrive. He already knew how many lashes were to be handed out, but he would wait for D’ren’s go-ahead, of course. Saquith stood nearby, his eyes whirling a concerned yellow. Why are you happy? He asked softly. ‘Because this will stop those idiots trying to flee. Trying to flee from dragonriders, how stupid can they be?’ N’gelt was too wrapped up in his desire to lash the boy to bother brushing his Brown away. All they had to do was stop running... It wasn’t that hard was it?
