World of Pern
Latest Updates

2023/08/04 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!
2023/01/07 Welcome to the New Year! We are now ELEVEN years old! Thank you, all of you, for your love and writing! I am looking forward to spending another year with youall! In addition, a new Default colour scheme is in progress and will hopefully be available soon! All my love! ThistleProse
2022/07/29 Gold Malvayth and Bronze Xyxyth clutch is Hatching! Come and join the shenannigans 743.08.03 | NIGHT STALKERS HATCHING and bring the popcorn!
2022/05/11 Gold Malvayth has Flown, caught by Bronze Xyxyth of A'tay. Their Hatching will be PC, and take place in Telgar in August around the 20-22nd! Update your Candidate Applications and prepare for some fun!
2022/04/21 New default layout! I hope you enjoy it! If you find any bugs, please report them in the discord #bug-squishing channel!
05/JUL It’s Hatching time!! Come take part in the shenanigans here
30/JUN Gold Thallyath of Ista Weyr has laid a clutch! More information here
27/JUN A bluerider, and then a greenrider, are found dead. More information here
25/JUN The Touching is up! Take part here
30/MAY After the Touching, many Candidates found themselves preyed upon in the form of their food. More information here
18/MAY Another goldrider - Ameris of Benden - is attacked. More information here
05/MAY Multiple individuals are attacked whilest out of the Weyr! More information here
04/MAY Take a chance OOC and guess who you think the murderer is! You can win prizes! More information here
03/MAY Goldrider Cazan and her twin brother Cazelarias are attacked. More information here
24/APR Goldrider Ashara of Fort is murdered by two brownriders. More information here
12/APR Searchrider B’jin was attacked at Telgar Weyr, surffering a slash to his throat. While in Benden, bluerider B’dor is found dead in his weyr. More info here
05/APRMore attacks occurred today. More information here
03/APRMultiple individuals found their death this day; more information here and here
28/MAR Tragedy has struck again! Across all the Weyrs, multiple people - primarily dragonriders - have fallen ill after eating muffins. There have been multiple deaths, and others are in criticle condition. More information here
24/MAR Weyrwoman Ameris and her son, Rislan, poisoned! More information here
18/MAR Benden’s Weyrleader M’ris and his children have been poisoned! Resulting in sickness and death. More information here
18/MAROn 18.03.742 Bronzerider A’dris of Vyaniorth was found dead in his personal bathing pool. He appears to have drowned after drinking an excess of alcohol. Afterwards it was realized that Machiya of Gold Cameth from Telgar Weyr had disappeared. Having never arrived at her destination, it is suspected she had an accident between.
11/MAR Gold Racoth of Donmaline went between taking Bronze Beruth of T’rel with her shortly after she had been caught, due to T’rel strangling Donmaline. He did not survive. more info
25/FEB Congratulations and thank-you to Guest for taking on a moderator role! <3
14/FEB Stars Above PC Hatching Link
06/JAN :o new layout is a WiP. Please report bugs in Discord.
01/JAN Merry Christmas, and Happy New Year!




Currently: Spring 03.745 al
Monthly Event
2024-February
Details: Link

Welcome to the Month of Lovetm! This month's Monthly Event is all about Romance, whether it is asking someone out on a date, or getting sweaty between the sheets! Anything and everything counts, if it even looks sideways like it could be related to Valentine Day -- including lover's spats, or breaking up, Flights Wins (or Flight Losses!). Honestly, this month has a huge opportunity for interpertation, so go wild!



2023-December
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Ahh, the fresh snow, the crisp air, the naked trees... welcome to Winter! Or, just the Colder Months for those in the more Northern Weyrs, while Ista is just... not as hot. But it is time to enjoy the end of the Turn, so folks should get together, spend some time gossiping, and drinking Hot Chocolate (alcohol and marshmallows opional)... does Pern even have marshmallows????? (they do now!)



2023-November
Details: Link

Feel like bitching? Wanna take part in a brawl? Or bet on someone? Take part in Brawls and Bitching this month! Boo-yeah!



2023-October
Details: Link

Thistle flunked this month; You can still post until the end of November as a result <3
Experience, tell or hide from a Spooky Story!



2023-September
Details: Link

The flu is running rampant, colds are clogging noses, and someone might have lost a limb?



2023-August
Details: Link

Partake this month by going fishing... or anything that occurs while fishing, or dealing with fish!



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Unhand me you snake! [Open]

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Written By: ZZZ Deceased
#1
Setting: S'kef's crafthall room
OPEN for anyone at any time!
Oahvakeen had been working very hard to bury himself away from the world, his dull life, and everything else inside it. It wasn't that he felt something was missing, but that he felt trapped in monotonous comfort of his box and ritualistic schedules. Oh, and, he hadn't slept well for four days. When he couldn't sleep, he'd get up and work, which would wake him up all the more.

His feet were heavy as he marched - more like stomped - down the halls, creating echoes. His normally passive personality seemed to have mutated into some monstrostity, because as passerbys glanced at his noisy walk with confusion, he shouted back at them "What are you looking at!". He arrived at a crafthall door in fast time, one he thought was S'kef's, and he looked at it for a whole fourty-three seconds. Just standing in front of the door, motionless, in a staring contest with the wood grain.

He fumbled his hands in the air, as if trying to open a latch that wasn't there. Try after try, he grasped the empty atmosphere, clutched, and yanked at the air. Next he swiped at the door but still missed just as he had before. "You open up right now!", he shouted at the door, and then in frustration, he bellowed, and kicked the door. His foot went through one side of the door, and returned with some shreds of wood caught in his long pants. But that hadn't brought him into the room that the door granted access too.

He tried to claw his way in through the hole he'd just made, using his fingers to try to tear out bits of the thin wood that made up the hollow door with scraping, groping, and punching motions.



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Written By: ZZZ Archived
#2
A couple notes:

S'kef doesn't actually have an office, but we can easily say that someone tipped Oahvakeen off to something he was doing in the craft hall. That's just as easy, I'm just explaining a bit of my post :3

And since Honey locked the last 15 days of Month 7 due to the execution, do you think we can slide the date back a few days? Otherwise it's groovy.
S'kef narrowed his eyes, staring down at the plans that had been drawn up for him and trying his best not to frown horribly at the young man who had so eagerly presented them. "I think it will be more economical in the long run.." the young man said as he delicately placed his hands on the paper and pulled it towards him. The young woodcrafter was obviously skilled, but S'kef wasn't sure if a major building project was in his stars yet.

"The answer is still no, but I commend your efforts. I'll see you compensated for your time drawing it up. I-"

What the hell was happening to the door?

Flit chirped helpfully and fluttered to his shoulder, flashing an image of the frustrated youth on the other side. S'kef raised a brow. Some kid?

Some kid with an awfully big mouth, it sounded like.

His assumption was confirmed when Oahvakeen's foot came through the door. The woodcrafter blanched and took off for an adjacent room, leaving S'kef quite alone with the young man, not that he cared. Flit chirped, lightly scolding Oahvakeen for his beastly actions. S'kef just shook his head. Unbelievable!

He walked over and flung the door open. "The door isn't even locked, you sharding maniac!" he growled, not even attempting to be elegant or diplomatic. As he looked over the damage and observed just who had come calling so aggressively, he couldn't decide if he was more offended or confused. "The shards are wrong with you, boy? You'll repair this damage or I'll tan your hide!" he scolded, still utterly shocked by the brazen display. He was almost too confused to reply!

Flit chittered again, feeling supremely helpful. S'kef jerked his shoulder to quiet her, then placed one hand on the door frame and leaned against it. He cast a most unimpressed glower at Oahvakeen, appraising the young man. "Now, kindly tell me what the hell your problem is. Either that or stop wasting my time," he said.

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Written By: ZZZ Deceased
#3
Done and done
Oahvakeen felt time slipping away from him as things happened without his control, like the door opening and a man standing there shouting at him. Why was everyone shouting? He felt angry, like shouting, so he would shout right back. The world was a little blurry, and the movements of his foot had created a pounding headache.

"It was TOO locked! What do I look like, a wood worker? I'm no carpenter! I'm sick of doing stupid things like a little child given busy work to make them shut up and be quiet!"

"I want put back! I'm sick of this place! There's nothing to do, it's boring! Work work work all the time! I hate this place and I never liked it! I'm not even going to run away, I'm just going to demand you put me right back where I was! At least there I was happy!"

"Do you even know what this makes you! You're a monster! Stealing folks from their sharding happy lives to live in this sharding unhappy place where women aren't even respected anymore and are treated like slaves made to scurry around doing our chores! You stole people! You had and ordered it done! You murdered our happy little dreams and put us in this place and expect us to act like we're all happy! I'm NOT happy! I want out! You should apologize!"

"Or else, or else, I'll kick you!"

He stepped back and tried to raise his foot and attempted to bash it towards S'kef's head. It wasn't a clean motion, but it could have been enough to accomplish his goal.

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Written By: ZZZ Archived
#4
Well, this was something else. S'kef raised a brow and watched as the young man ranted, unconvinced until the very end that such a self-righteous, laughably random little outburst could possibly be serious. Well, at least until Oahvakeen launched and unwieldy kick at his head.

S'kef frowned and stepped backwards, awkwardly evading the attack, and found himself filled with the momentary desire to wring the kid's neck. "What the shards!?" he growled, staring unbelieving at the angry youngster. Flit let out a shriek of rage and flared her little wings, but she lacked the actual grit to swoop over and attack the young man, even in self-defense of her bonded.

The shocked brownrider reached for his whip and lashed out at the young man, aiming for his legs. He only swung once before he felt Tyrrisath's dour presence butt into the back of his mind, reminding him that if he committed an act of bloody murder in the hallway, his days as Weyrleader would be numbered and his plans would go unrealized.

Wait, plans. Plans!

S'kef's wily grin cut through the anger on his face. Confused but pleased at the sudden change, Flit crooned and licked his cheek. "Kid," S'kef said, not bothering to try to remember Oahvakeen's name. He righted himself, dropping his aggressive posture and tapping the whip in the palm of his hand rather than raising it again. His fingers still itched to tan the brat's hide, but Tyrrisath was right, this was an opportunity. "You've got a name, right? What's your name, kid?"

He crossed his arm and took a step closer, stern eyes wandering over the young man, searching for warnings of more attacks and practically daring him to actually act on any inclinations. S'kef was doing Tyrrisath a favor by listening to his warning, but that didn't mean he wouldn't relish an excuse to tear into the young man. S'kef could still feel his blood pumping in sheer anger at having been attacked in such a foolhardy way! But no...he needed to stay calm.  Calm.

"You'd do well to remember who you're talking to," S'kef said, sneering just lightly. He smiled a little immediately afterwards, trying to play his irritation off as a mild joke. "I think you and I should have a chat. Walk with me?"

Flit hissed. It wasn't a question!


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Written By: ZZZ Deceased
#5
He felt a bitter pain in his leg as S'kef's whip bit into his skin and drew a thin line of blood. Of course, to a very hormone-pumped Oahvakeen, he felt it but didn't bother to comprehend what it was. He didn't care (his normal meek self would have), and his adrenaline wouldn't be so easily stopped.

He tried to lash right back out at the man, aiming where S'kef had previously been and wasn't anymore. Of course, his right-hand hook (a kind of punch) was a miss and had pathetic form.

And then, and then, soothing words!!! Wait, what? He wobbled a bit, his veins pulsing just beneath his skin. It made no sense at all, and his brain struggled to comprehend and adapt to the situation. He felt as if he'd suddenly been transported into a world where everything was made out of beans: it made no sense.

"What? You're trying to trick me!", he tried to escallate the situation back up again to a place where he could violently rampage about. There was a book stacked atop a chair nearby, and he picked it up and hurled it at S'kef. It missed, pathetically, but did make a nice violent ringing shattering sound as it broke through a window and landed in some bushes outside.

"DO IT! DO IT!", he was shouting now, his veins now throbbing and protruding from his skin. Like the hulk, only, still wearing his clothes, not green, and hardly eye-candy. In fact, it was rather grotesque.

"You're S'KEF. The Wherry told me where you are. And I'm not going anywhere. MAKE ME! Do it! I dare you! Or else I'll pummel you into the snow!", why was he shouting again? Oh yeah, because he was angry and he was angry and, wait, he'd already thought that. And he wanted to go home. And he was bored. And he felt insignificant. And he was hurting. And he hadn't hardly slept. The energy expenditures from this whole hissy temper-tantrum were so great that even if S'kef didn't knock him out, he'd be too tired to continue and sleep eventually.

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Written By: ZZZ Archived
#6
Well, that didn't work.

S'kef slipped to one side, first dodging the punch and then watching with helpless puzzlement as the book flew past and collided with the window, shattering it. I swear I'm going to kill this kid he thought with disbelief, gaze slowly turning back to Oahvakeen as Flit took off, wheeling about in the air and screaming in alarm. "Flit, shut up!" he groaned aloud, lifting one hand and pressing it to his temples to try and compose himself before he actually murdered the boy.

The brownrider huffed angrily and took a long step toward Oahvakeen, reaching out to snatch his shirt collar and force him against the wall. Of course, at Tyrrisath's insistence, he checked his force a little bit and reminded himself not to wring the kid's neck. Shards, the little bastard was so slippery that S'kef wasn't even sure if he'd be able to catch him, but hell if he was going to go chasing him down if he did miss!

"Damn right you little urchin, I'm S'kef. I'm your Weyrleader, and you will shut your mouth and talk to me like a civilized adult if you wish to be treated like one," he growled, anger flashing in his eyes. He always worked so hard to keep his temper under wraps in public...for a few unsettling moments, not only did he fail to hide it, but he almost failed to control it.

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Written By: ZZZ Deceased
#7
Now, Oahvakeen was never very coordinated, and this whole "fighting" part of him, that was the opposite part of his "flighting" part of him, was even more uncoordinated, having never been used before. Even though his heart coursed adrenaline and rage through him, anxious to sap up as much of his waning energy as possible, it could still not compensate for his lack of sleep. 

As a result, S'kef's hands were suddenly on his body, and his back against a wall. He felt a "clunk" sound as the back of his head met the wall. It became a dull ache. He tried to stretch his eyelids to reign in a border of white in his vision, and it helped him to concentrate. He tried to hold onto S'kef's wrists.

"You're not my Weyrleader. Maybe if you treated women like people I wouldn't treat you like how you treat women. Maybe if you had never stollen people. ", he tried to bite S'kef's face and then attempted to spit at him.

Pinned up on the wall like a poster, what else could he do? His brain thought long and hard.

"Guess as a woman you won't be needing this.", he tried to force one of his legs backwards, and then forwards, hoping to connect with S'kef's groin.

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Written By: ZZZ Archived
#8
"Stolen people? Hah..."

S'kef grunted and found himself awkwardly sliding his heels back and pressing his knees together to protect his groin from the sudden attack, which would have shaken him from his train of thought where he not so alarmed and amused by the accusation. Was 'amused' even the right word? 'Furious' might have been more fitting, but he was trying ever-so-hard not to pop the kid's head off his shoulders as it was...Hold it together! he reminded himself grumpily, clenching the boy's shift even tighter before shoving him against the wall again.

"Stolen people? You should think before you accuse someone of another man's sins," he said, allowing an almost cruel sneer to cross his face. "Have you been paying attention to what goes on around you, kid? Or have you simply been listening to the poison and whining of those who are resistant to change?"

He leaned in a bit closer, brown eyes hard and sharp. "Tsuen is the one who feared returning home. She is the one who deemed kidnapping necessary..and D'ren is the one who made it happen. They are the ones your anger should be directed at," he said, his voice practically tingling with his hatred of the pair. Sure, his own anger towards them was much broader and more complicated than that but the truth stood...S'kef wasn't one to coddle the northerners, but he certainly understood their rage. In a way, he felt like he was in a similar position.

"Do you think  I like being here?" he asked, narrowing his eyes and grinding his teeth together, nostrils flaring with rage as he thought about the turns he'd wasted in the hellish jungle...both before and after the formation of Katila. "Do you think I want to stay here? I too was robbed of my home by this filthy place...and if you ever wish to see the north again, you would be wise to reconsider your words and your actions."

There was no reason to elaborate. He released Oahvakeen and took a long step backwards, crossing his arms and watching the boy with a severe expression.

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Written By: ZZZ Deceased
#9
Aaaand, nothing. With his foot, he only hit a thigh that was suddenly there, and not the ginger apparatus he'd hoped to. His head hit the wall again, and there was the same thud as his skull made an indentation in its texture. Still, he hadn't hurt the man a single ounce.

So, S'kef wasn't responsible at all for stealing people? But he had just stood by and let it happen, didn't he? Even though he passed the blame off to Tsuen and D'ren, he heard no evidence that S'kef had tried to stand up for the stollens at all. But that was only a single issue on his mind. What about the sexism? The fact that the weyr was boring as frack? His busy-work assignments? His wanting to leave and go back home? All of these were unanswered, and even in his foggy stupor, he felt clear that S'kef was not about to lay an issue on his other angers.

"If you don't like it here, then leave. No one's stopping you.", his voice was cold, and Oahvakeen found his body free. "If I ever want to see the north again? That was never even a possibility and even you know that. We weren't borrowed, we were stollen. You can't dangle a nonexistant carrot over my head."


"You're not going to fight me.", he accidentally said his thought out loud, and furrowed his eyebrows.

He wanted to say something mean and angry but he couldn't think of any more insults.

"Rawrrrrggggrrr!", he simply snarled at the man. It was not a human thing to do, and so it wasn't very pretty. He picked up his feet, stomped one, and then the other. He turned, and stomped one foot at a time, beginning to make his way out the door ...

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Written By: ZZZ Archived
#10
S'kef didn't bother to reply to the boy, not right away anyhow. He watched with annoyance and disapproval as Oahvakeen turned and huffed off, evidently heading back towards the main exit at the end of the hall. S'kef let him go and took a moment to compose himself.

Tyrrisath, stop him

With pleasure

The brown dragon was currently perched atop the hall, curled up on one side of the roof where his hide could best catch the sun. At his rider's command, he unrolled his powerful form and stepped down, uncoiling on the ground and stalking around to the front. He positioned himself in front of the door, red eyes whirling with curiosity and grim amusement as he curled up in front of the door.

He pressed his snout forward and pushed the door in just enough for his flaring nostrils and one red eye to be visible in the low interior light. Surprise he said lowly, allowing his laughter to ring in Oakvakeen's mind for a few seconds as S'kef stepped out of the room and followed at a slow but purposeful walk.

"You can't escape from me, boy. Now stop being a coward and turn around.  Talk to me like a man, not like a ranting child! Unless of course, you want me to treat you like one!" the brownrider said, deep voice picking up where Tyrrisath's laughter had trailed off.

S'kef approached and pointed his whip at Oahvakeen. "What'll it be?" The boy was going to be lashed regardless. S'kef had lashed men (and women) for far smaller offenses, but he had other motives here.

"I'm sick of rumors, you cowardly little whelp. Let me set something straight with you...and you will look at me when I talk to you, boy!"

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Written By: ZZZ Deceased
#11
One step. Two step. Three step. Red step. Blue step. Man, he was tired. His thoughts were mostly dis-coherent with the sleep deprivation. The door opened as Oahvakeen neared it, and he grinned at the idea that perhaps his anger had made the door flare open. Cool! Weird things happened when he got angry! He had magical powers!

Before he could think another thought, there in front of him, were two large nostrils, each individual one practically the size of his entire face. At least it seemed that way, because they were only a few inches from his face. Obviously, the dragon had opened the door from the other side. Since when could dragons open doors anyways? Didn't they lack opposable thumbs? Did they even need opposable thumbs? Who cared.

He heard laughter in his head. It was akin to the time he'd touched a dragon egg and it made a strange feeling in his head. But this was more unpleasant. He heard words that weren't uttered aloud, and a cruel, harsh, metallic laugh that seemed nightmarish and etheral in essence. Was he hallucinating? What the heck had just happened to him? He began to get carried away wondering the ins and outs of it when his brain simplified the problem, exhausted of his worrying: a dragon was talking to him. Yes, it was the first time he'd heard a dragon, and it probably wouldn't be the last.

But he had bigger things to worry about then the novelty of a voice in his head. Like the dragon. Oahvakeen wasn't the best with names and he hardly kept track of those sorts of things. All he knew was that it was a brown dragon, and probably S'kef's.

S'kef wanted him to turn around and talk like a man? He'd do just the opposite. Because he was petty, angry, tired, and hardly thinking straight. He hadn't won his physical fight with S'kef; hadn't even landed a single blow. And he was going to storm and pout and be as destructive as possible. Because he hadn't slept and everyone should suffer. And also because he was a raving lunatic at this stage.

"A man doesn't send his pet child to protect him! Everyone knows dragons can't harm humans. What, is your cute little dragon going to block my way?", he examined the doorway. There was no way through it, unless he could shrink himself by half. Yes, yes Tyrrisath was indeed blocking the doorway.

What if he just clawed through another wall by punching holes in it like he had the door? What if he punched a hole in S'kef's face!? No, no, he'd tried that a few times and it hadn't worked.

"Mooooove.", his tone was serious and cold as he stared down the dragon. He hadn't realized that he was beginning to curl a fist and raise it up. It was a threat. "You won't fight me but you send your dragon to do it for you? Dragons don't fight. They can't harm humans. You're just a big oversided doggie with a bluff. Well, I'm not the bluffing!", his grammar wavered as his emotions flared. He wasn't afraid. He didn't have the sense to be afraid.


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J'ver
of Green Rilaleeyth

Date of Birth
14.07.688, 56
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Slender
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Written By: SunsetWay
#12
“Oh, but we can hurt humans.”

One thing everyone could agree on about J’ver was that he was always there. He was in every shadow you passed, around every corner you stood near, and just outside the door you forgot to close. Now was no different. He hadn’t been too far behind S’kef when his mate ran across the irritating redhead but he purposely lingered behind and out of sight when Oahvakeen was spotted. It was always best to see what would come of an unexpected encounter before presenting himself and as always, his methods had proven to be the correct choice. Oahvakeen had some interesting things to say but it was growing rather tedious and repetitive. J’ver had better things to be doing with his time and more important people to tail and check up on than some whiny child that missed his mommy’s apron strings.

J’ver stepped away from the wall he had been leaning against as he listened to the arguing and walked closer to the men. He hadn’t worried about S’kef during what sounded like the beginnings of a physical fight. His brownrider was strong and powerful while Oahvakeen was a delusional boy that didn’t know what he was up against. J’ver had learned the hard way what it was like to be on the receiving end of S’kef’s anger and he wasn’t about to intervene for a child he didn’t care about or have a use for. “You waste your breath, Weyrleader. This one isn’t interested in the truth or actually being given what he wants.” That was only partially true since it wasn’t like they would just send the boy back to his home on the morrow but they all had dreams and goals and some would be achieved sooner rather than later.

“There’s really only two things to be done with this… pest. I will dispose of him or you lash him and toss him into solitary confinement. I think ten days would be a good start to breaking him down.” Oahvakeen seemed extremely unstable mentally and being tossed aside and left alone without any other human interaction seemed like a fine way to fully snapping that pitiful mind and putting an end to such notions. Personally, he liked the idea of chucking the boy between or staging a feline attack after rendering Oahvakeen unconscious. A wicked grin crept onto his face.

“Also, little boy, you should know that a dragon is not a pet but an extension of the rider. You would do best to unclench your fists right now before you foolishly strike Tyrrisath.” The dragon likely wouldn’t even feel the punch as anything more than a light irritation but Oahvakeen would certainly feel S’kef’s pummelling. Even if the fists were meant for S’kef, Oahvakeen still didn’t stand a chance. All anyone had to do was remember bluerider R’nd’s condition not too long ago after tangling with a drunken Weyrleader.

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Written By: ZZZ Archived
#13
Tyrrisath's nostrils flared and his eyes whirled devilishly as he looked back at Oahvakeen, silently daring the boy to lash out against him. Being a dragon, Tyrrisath lacked any interest in actually harming the human, but he had not forgotten the fact that the wretch had attacked his bonded. The dragon watched silently and irritably as Oahvakeen made his uncertain threats, though in the back of his own mind, S'kef could sense Tyrrisath's unspoken responses.

The dragon snorted, then pushed his snout forward quite suddenly, aiming to put the human on his ass in the floor. Pest.

The brownrider strode closer, only to break out into a grin when his favorite greenrider made an appearance. "J'ver," the brownrider said, nodding his head in appreciation as the other man made his appearance. How fitting! His little sneak had showed up at the perfect time, just as always. He was so reliable and thorough, always trotting along at S'kef's side when needed and working his unseen magic when he was not...he really was a delightful little devil.

S'kef briefly slid one arm around the greenrider's waist and leaned in to plant a light hiss on his cheek before releasing him and sliding past him. "I hope you're wrong, J'ver, but I suspect that you are not," S'kef said, locking his eyes on Oahvakeen. "If this boy were willing to listen to reason, he might realize that cooperation is his only change of ever going home...for if it were up to  Tsuen, all of us would rot in this forsaken jungle for the rest of our lives..."

He paused, then smiled almost pleasantly. "...But now that it is up to me...I would love nothing more than to take everyone home."

Sure, he was loading his words a bit, but in essence they were true. Dragonriders deserved to rule, not to hide in the mud. He would see them returned to the north, where they could take their rightful place and where the unhappy northerners could go home. They were no use if they were unwilling, and S'kef rather liked the idea of being seen as the man who took the stolen children home...not the lunatic who took them in the first place. He figured he would need the good publicity, and there was no sense in raising  a new generation of dragonriders who would hate the old...

How funny. D'ren often harped on how the northerners should be treated better to avoid that very outcome...but  S'kef was actually willing to do something about it. Stupid old man!

"Now, of course he'll be punished for his attack on me," S'kef said with a sneer. "But if he's wise, he'll shut his mouth and listen first. Do you ever want to go home, boy? Do you want to cooperate with me and ensure that day day comes sooner, or would you rather suffer in this jungle even longer? You think you're the only one who has to live with Tsuen and D'ren's disgusting mess? Stop being a martyr and adding to the problem. Help me fix it instead.  "

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Written By: ZZZ Deceased
#14
Earth Science had long since proved that being tired was far, far more dangerous than being tipsy or drunk, and in some cases, even more dangerous than controlled or illegal substances. Oahvakeen was such a one, exhausted beyond his mind's ability to compensate, fully enraged, senseless, high out of his mind on testosterone, and now being provoked.

A new boy had entered, skinny, dark haired, and with a sense of erotic darkness. The man made fun of Oahvakeen, or at least, seemed to be, and mentioned punishments and threats, goading S'Kef towards torture of mind and body. Oahvakeen felt convinced that nothing could be more torturous than the state he was already in right now, that of being laughed at. Oahvakeen was called more things like foolish and with more threats, now.

"You're next then!", he roared. His eyes had begun to become bloodshot at the edges from the lack of sleep and the extra exposure to the air from his overly emotional eye gazes.

He swung his lifted arm back, now. But Tyrrisath was moving, now, too, and towards Oahvakeen. He felt something collide with his stomach, and the force and bulk of it caused him to loose his footing. It was then that he swung, hoping to hit his eye, but the actual punch going towards his large face and jaw. What was he going to do, sit there and cry like a little baby? Give up and loose? No way!

He used one hand on the floor to stand again and with the other hand again attempted to punch Tyrrisath. He was on his feet now and he tried to barrage the dragon's face with fist after fist, as if he were pounding dough into a pliable pastry form, as if Tyrrisath were a Speed Punching Bag.

He reached for the door nearby and and caught the edge of it and pulled. They say that people with adrenaline can do extraordinary things like lift cars off of trapped citizens. Oahvakeen managed to rip off the outer vertical beam the made up the door's end, where it would fit flush against the wall and lock holes, and the piece included the door handle. Wielding a weapon now, he swung it like a baseball bat towards Tyrrisath in a blind rage.

Most of what S'Kef was said was heard but lost by his brain, labeled as more goading and laughter at his expense. He'd show them, he'd show them all.


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Written By: ZZZ Archived
#15
Very suddenly, things were very different.

S'kef let out an unexpected grunt and clutched at his left eye, recoiling as one of the first of Oahvakeen's flurry of wayward punches struck Tyrrisath in the same spot. The dragon hissed and closed the eye, snapping his head back slightly and growling in frustration as the questionable onslaught continued. It hadn't hurt that badly, but it surely made the beast angry, and his deep growling and flaring nostrils growing more pronounced as Oahvakeen continued to strike him. S'kef was mostly just shocked, jaw slacking as his fingers covered his eye, the other one watching in disbelief as the boy continued to attack his dragon.

Before S'kef could move himself to lash out, things got even worse. Quite suddenly, Oahvakeen was attacking Tyrrisath not with his comically ineffective fists, but with a piece of wood pried free of the door.

That was too much. S'kef could have sworn that he heard a faint snapping sound as he plowed forward, all semblance of restraint gone. He reached out, intending to grab Oahvakeen's shirt collar with one hand and wrench the plank from him with the other. Tyrrisath hissed angrily, shoving forward with his snout once more in an effort to aid in rider in corralling the brat. Flit, of course, had completely lost her mind. She screamed anciously, flailing around on S'kef's shoulder until he forcibly shrugged her off. S'kef didn't even bother to speak, scowling angrily as he attempted to sling Oahvakeen into the wall and reached for his whip.

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Written By: ZZZ Deceased
#16
His attempts to pummel that big beast, first with his fists, then with the door were only so successful, as they barely made any sort of dent in the big reptilian dragon. His eyes were aware at how S'Kef grasped at himself at corresponding places, but his brain had no space to process it, except to dump the scene into his memory.

He wasn't really thinking when he felt a blow of force that was Tyrrisath 's snout send him off balance. And then a yank on his clothing. Again he was lifted mostly off the ground and into the wall. The wall shuddered. The force of the blow hit the back of his head as before, and also his shoulder blades. His arm had been reeled back with the piece of door that was no longer present in his fist. It hit, too, hit the wall, and there was a sickening crunch as it hit at an odd angle, and continued to hang from his elbow at an even odder angle, an unnatural one. Pain welled through him and he shuddered. A broken arm. At this rate, these wall slams would soon fracture his skull.

But he couldn't stop. The adrenaline coursed through him and ramped up even more.  It was all or nothing, go home and cry, or more escalation. His whole forearm hurt, and it only made him more angry.

When S'kef reached for something with a hand, that hand was no longer attached to Oahvakeen and the boy careened forwards, resulting in a tearing sound and leaving behind a fragment of shirt where Oahvakeen had previously been.

He ran forwards, towards the dragon, Tyrrisath , aimed, brought his right leg up, and then shot his right leg out and to the side as he jumped forwards. He gave a little shout as he'd tried to swing both arms for balance and the action in his right arm produced nothing but pain.  He'd meant to kick the dragon in the throat but had failed to realize at the time that Tyrrisath possessed a head that blocked that body part.  As a result, it was a horribly formed flying kick aimed straight at Tyrrisath's front teeth. All Tyrrisath had to do was open his mouth and Oahvakeen's leg would be inside the creature's mouth, where many sharp, sharp teeth were housed....




OOC: not sure if powerplay or not where he escapes from S'Kef's single-handed wall-slam grasp

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Written By: ZZZ Archived
#17
S'kef cursed softly when Oahvakeen managed to wriggle away from him. That boy must have been sky high on adrenaline, especially considering the horrid snapping sound that S'kef was pretty sure he'd heard. The boy's arm was broken and he was still trying to fight? Madness. At this rate, S'kef was pretty sure he'd have the beat the idiot half to death. Fuck, he wasn't even sure if he'd be able to detain him without doing exactly that.

He turned and reached for his whip, opting to wield it as a weapon rather than risk losing himself and bashing the other man's face in with hi fists. He watched as Oahvakeen made his awkward attempt to kick Tyrrisath, which earned a ragged snort from the dragon. The brown bared his teeth and hissed, eyes flashing a wicked shade of red. For a moment, enraptured by S'kef's anger, the dragon spread his maw and vividly fantasized about brignign his teeth down on the human's flesh.

"Tyrrisath!"  S'kef roared. The dragon's head snapped back and he closed his mouth, staring balefully at Oahvakeen with his wicked, boiling eyes. S'kef stormed up behind Oahvakeen, his patience far gone, his heart pounding and his teeth grinding with rage. He lashed out at the man with his whip, almost blind in his rage. He quickly lost track of just how many times he lashed out, but all he could think about was repaying the brat for his unwarranted attack on Tyrrisath, whom  S'kef would protect with his life. Sure, it had been a minor blow, but the intent was sincere, and S'kef believed in escalation.

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Written By: ZZZ Deceased
#18
Oahvakeen's arm was broken, though he didn't know it, the two bashes into the wall had punished his head and neck, and now he was attempting to kick a dragon in the face? Any sane person would know better. If anything was certain, tonight was not his night. Things had escalated and escalated and the hormones of adrenaline and testosterone and everythign else that inhibited rational thinking coarsed through his body.

When his foot went up to kick the dragon, the dragon's mouth opened, causing the kick to miss and Oahvakeen's foot to wander inside at a high speed. A hiss was a breath of warm air across his leg. When the dragon snapped back Oahvakeen knew he had missed, and that his foot was still in the air, and so he surged forwards what bit he could. What he didn't know was that the dragon was done bearing his teeth, and so he pushed his leg straight into a closing vice grip. The pain was tremendous and the noise sickening. His body was held up by his leg now and he dangled from the dragon's mouth.

A whip was on him, and it spurred his spirit. He fought upside down, and tried to punch and lunge at the dragon's chest and front feet, but for all his efforts, he couldn't actually reach the dragon with his arms. All the while, the whip lashed him, and lashed him, and lashed him more, meeting his flesh with harsh bites that left red welts.

His efforts grew more frail and withdrawn as the lash continued to hit his back. When he finally stopped struggling, his absence of movement caused his body to ramp down the hormonal drugs that had plaugued him. Now that his nerves were not overwhelemed, they had the space to process all the pain, and it grew on him. All the lashes, his leg, his arm, head, neck, and back ; it all hurt. He shuddered with pain as the whip met his flesh again and again.

"I'm done...", he hoarsely whispered, trying to call 'Uncle' without loosing too much pride. He wanted to cry, but he couldn't, as the tears and emotions of sadness wouldn't come, and he didn't feel the least bit sad.

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Written By: ZZZ Archived
#19
S'kef's anger blinded him to all logic and reason, his heart slamming in his chest and his shoulders heaving with vicious, snarling curses as he lashed out at the young man again and again. Behind him, S'kef heard a disgusted J'ver murmur "Kill him," before slithering off. S;kef noticed, but he didn't blame the poor dear. This was gruesome work, not fit for a delicate beauty such as J'ver, and the greenriders skills would be better used elsewhere.

Kill him!

The command rang in his mind, echoed by his own rage. He wasn't even completely aware that he'd repeated it, or even that he meant it, but in those murderous few moments where his adrenaline hit it's high point and his carefully manicured sense of self-restraint and pragmatism crumbled, he certainly did mean it. He forced his will on the dragon who so tenuously held the young man in his teeth, their shared ire overwhelming the beast for a few moments.

Oahvakeen had attacked him. Oahvakeen had attacked S'kef. He wished to murder Tyrrisath's rider! He wished to murder them both! He was trying to take S'kef away from him!

His teeth gnashed.

Tyrrisath bit down and slung his head, not only grinding the young man's flesh, but also tossing him cruelly into the wall. However, the gruesome sound of broken bone and the wet tearing of flesh seemed to snap the beast back to his senses, the wild instinct to protect S'kef fading in favor of the gentle instinct to never harm a human. The dragon ignoed S'kef's harsh command, releasing and watching as he dropped Oahvakeen to the floor. The dragon's eyes burned red, and for a few moments he didn't believe what he'd done.

He reached out to S'kef, who had since stumbled away and dropped his whip. He looked over the scene and was momentarily shocked, but he quickly masked it with a cold and dour expression.

He took a moment to silently console Tyrrisath, who was doing his best to shield S'kef from just how disturbed he was. He didn't want S'kef to know. It was always been Tyrrisath's creed to overlook his rider's evils, to support him silently and justify his actions however he needed to. The dragon loved his bonded, as all dragons did, but when they had bonded, Tyrrisath expected to make S'kef into a great man. He didn't realize that the best way to make him a great man was to be his devil's advocate. Many blamed Tyrrisath for changing S'kef, but it was really S'kef who had changed Tyrrisath.

Either way, Tyrrisath had never before taken such an active role. The dragon's eyes silently flushed yellow and he backed away and retreated outside. S'kef found it difficult to reach the dragon's mind, but the wave of nausea told S'kef all he needed to know.

I'm sorry, Tyrrisath. Tyrrisath knew.

S'kef picked up his whip and wiped some sweat from his forehead. He'd really done it this time. He'd lost his temper...spectacularly. This had the potential to be a big mess. For a few seconds, he considered tossing the boy between and being done with it, but he wasn't sure if he could put his dragon through that. Dragons were not meant to hurt people. Tyrrisath had been silently reluctant to toss T'shiro between, as any dragon would have been, so S'kef decided not to put him through it again.

Would it make Oahvakeen a martyr?  S'kef would make sure it didn't. If he let the little rat live, he would not let it come back to haunt him. He grimaced, swinging his foot in an attempt to put a boot in the boy's ribs one last time. "I hope you find a healer in time," he hissed before stepping over him to walk outside. Tyrrisath was more important than anything right now.

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Written By: ZZZ Deceased
#20
His attempts to struggle and hit the dragon had ceased, the whip kept coming, and then he felt serrated blades, teeth, sink into his leg deeper. He began to cry out, but the sound couldn't come out of his mouth in time, as the wind was ripped from his lungs as he found his body a rag-doll, at the mercy of physics, in mid-air. He hit the wall with his back and butt, and the pain of it all was nothing compared to falling from where he'd hit the wall onto the floor, which hurt his arm, side, hip, and leg. He felt in a daze and simply couldn't do much of anything for a few moments, his mind struggling to recover from the shock. It was during this time that S'kef was walking towards him.

When he'd found his strength and re-learned how to breathe, he used his good arm to try to push himself up, to get off the floor. He was in a sort of cheating push-up position when S'kef's boot connected with his side and brought a new wave of pain. It hurt like the dickens, and it ruined his attempt to get up, and caused him to do a face-plant instead, where his forehead was a cleaning rag to pick up the dirt on the floor.

He hissed, spattering saliva everywhere, and felt relieved there was no blood in it. His leg felt warm and sticky, but he wouldn't let himself look yet. He simply knew he had to get up, so he gathered his strength, did the cheating push-up again, and managed to get himself into a sitting position against the wall. From here, he could see most of his body. His clothes were soaked in red almost everywhere. His arm hung wrong, his leg too red to see any other details, and cuts and scrapes and missing pieces of garmet all along his back and sides. He felt the whipping welts and felt surely they were bloody.

He'd begun to wimper softly to himself when he decided he couldn't really get up or move much else. But he wouldn't let S'kef win. He made his good arm sticky with the blood of his leg and then began to wipe his arm all over the wall, leaving red streaks and red handprints everywhere. Yes, he would get back at S'kef by making his walls look awful.

But it hurt so much. He felt himself getting tired, and his movements were all with horrible form, mostly flailing about.

How was he going to get to the Healing Hall in time?

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Written By: ZZZ Deceased
#21
Ravana arrived in Crafter Hall after all the commotion had settled, minutes too late to have been of help defusing the situation.  She knew something was wrong when she smelled blood, and as Shanith landed on the roof she hissed, seeing Tyrrisath flying away and for an instant picking up on his feelings and S'kef following his dragon. 

Steeling herself, Ravana followed her nose, all thoughts of a name tag for Stubborn's collar dropped.  She saw the blood on the walls first, and the color drained from her face. 

Shanith put it together first, and as her rider was hurrying to the injured man's side she reached for Rilaleeyth.  There was only one thing that could case wounds that grievous.  A dragon...Tyrrisath.  The dragon let Ravana's compassion guide her.  If it was Olemuth in this situation, she would want to be at his side.  Rilaleeyth?  Ravana found a man in the crafter hall.  I think he pushed Tyrrisath into hurting him.  I think he needs you.  You should find your mate.  Shanith waited then, waited for Ravana to see if Oahvakeen was still alive, waited for her to decide what to do, waited for the chaos swirling in her rider's mind to resolve itself. 

Fury.  Someone had harmed a member of her family.  Someone had made him bleed.  When she found out who, she would destroy them.  Ravana stormed over to Oahvakeen's side, fury crystallizing everything else into frozen ice.  Later, the panic would come and the uncertainty and doubt.  For now all she felt was anger as cold and clear as the glaciers in the far north. 

She knew when she saw the injuries that Oahvakeen wasn't going anywhere like this and spoke to Shanith.  Find Talian now.  Speak to Khaduceth if you must but I need him here five minutes ago.  "Hold still, Oahvakeen.  Help's coming."  She touched his cheek tenderly and set about doing what she could to help him until Talian got his ass over there. 

A tourniquet, a tourniquet...Stubborn launched herself between and came back with a belt.  Not caring where she got it, Ravana used it to tie a tourniquet around Oahvakeen's lower leg and above the cuts, Ravana's first thought to slow the bleeding.  There was an alarming amount of blood on the floor and the walls and everywhere.  That would kill him first...the bleeding.  She was fairly sure that it was spurting, and that was a sign that it might have hit an artery.

Shanith let her rider's ice touch her own thoughts and bespoke Khaduceth.  Talian is needed at the Craft Hall.  He should bring supplies to treat a dragon's bite and broken bones.  Ravana's using a tourniquet to slow the bleeding, says he seems to be breathing fine and what else should she look for as far as damage goes?  How does she keep him alive until Talian comes?  To her words she added an image of Oahvakeen as he was now, with Ravana talking to him,trying to make sure he didn't pass out. 

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D'hys
of Blue Zeianth

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Written By: SunsetWay
#22
D'hys had heard the commotion of a fight as he jogged around the corner of a nearby building and slowed to a halt when the men came into view. It wasn't too surprising to see S'kef laying the smack down on someone and it almost wasn't that much of a shock to see it was some nameless man that had been Stolen somewhere along the line. They were a rowdy bunch and undisciplined. They seemed to be more in need of some sort of training than the lazy dragonriders, but that was something to mention to the Weyrleader at another time, not while he was swatting away a pest.

His desire to stay on the sidelines, quietly observing the thrashing was shattered the moment he saw the idiot start attacking Tyrrisath. No one ever had a reason to attack a dragon! D’hys started forward but his own dragon’s voice stilled him once more. Leave them. Tyrrisath and the Weyrleader know what they’re doing and will not thank you if you come to their aid. D’hys knew it to be truth and stayed out of it though he was seething. S’kef already had a struggle with proving his worth not because of the controversy of his dismissal as Second a while back but because he was a brownrider. To have to receive assistance from a bluerider would only make people question him all the more. That didn’t mean D’hys would stand by idly forever. Once S’kef was done with the man, he’d take a turn.

Unfortunately as the fight intensified, grey eyes grew large with uncontrolled shock. The boy was suicidal and Tyrrisath was willing to help with that. The chomp he took looked gruesome from his distance and a satisfied grin appeared as he watched S’kef walk away unconcerned for the bleeding out man. D’hys was willing to leave well enough alone with that until Ravana appeared on the scene and thought helping would be nice. Stupid greenriders!

Anger renewed, D’hys stormed up to the woman, uncaring that he was trying to keep her under the illusion that he was secretly nice and willing to help those in need. “Let him die,” he growled when he was mere feet away. He didn’t even spare a glance at Oahvakeen, considering him completely unworthy of his time even when he was in one piece. “Anyone that thinks it’s okay to attack and harm a dragon should be left on the ground to bleed out. You waste your time, Ravana, and will earn the scorn of many for helping a wannabe dragon slayer.” No time was given for her to reply as D’hys only cared that his words were heard and cared not for her bleeding heart for the bleeding heathen. He left as quickly as he swooped in, resisting the urge to bloody his shoe by kicking Oahvakeen.

There was the overwhelming urge to go check on Zeianth. He knew his blue was fine simply through their bond but a visual check and being in close proximity of his dragon would soothe him fully. First there was a kid that shot an arrow at Ilveriath and now this punk attacked Tyrrisath. What were they raising in the North over the last decade? The thought horrified D’hys.

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Written By: ZZZ Deceased
#23
There was the noise of talking and a sensation on his cheek. He focused his eyes enough to see that it was Ravana, the rider he had a crush on, but was with someone else. How embarrassing.

But there was another man there, a man he didn't think he'd seen before, a man that said mean things, and then seemed to be gone. Oahvakeen must have drawn a crowd, and the thought of that was even more embarrassing. Did everyone in the weyr know about this, now?

If his life wasn't falling apart before, it was now. He hurt all over, and was being cared for by Ravana, of all people. A while back, he'd drug Ravana into getting buried in a building collapse, and it was completely his fault. His heart had hurt with romantic notions that were squashed, and now she was attempting to help him.

Oahvakeen had experienced a manic high, and now it was time for the corresponding manic low, as if gravity had finally overwhelmed his adrenaline and now it was time to come crashing back to earth. He shuddered his body, causing new droplets of blood to squeeze from his back lashes. And then he cried. In the past he had tried to be manly and masculine, and it was all burned up and wasted now. They started as sobs and turned into a wailing, all of the grief, pain, hurt, and shock of it all combining into a fit of tears.

All of him hurt, inside and out, and there were no words to describe the agonizing pain.

His face began to pale. He needed to get medical help and fast, but he was too caught up in tears and unable to stop. Perhaps he'd pass out soon.

Little known to Oahvakeen but with the fight, they'd stirred up the office, banged on the walls, and he'd fallen on the floor. A bacteria long safely locked away in the walls had been unleashed, and had found Oahvakeen's deepest open wounds a welcome home. The flesh around his bite had begun to turn more like a slosh than meat, and the area around it had begun to turn a light lilac.

-- fade out --
-- end of thread --




EDIT: Let's just go ahead and end this thread here.

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