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!
10.Jun.13, 08:26 AM
The greenrider frowned, tilting his head to one side as he listened to Talian babble, brown eyes hazy with confusion. He couldn’t understand why Talian was upset, when he had previously seemed to – while not be happy – but at least content with the way his life had rolled around. He shook his head slightly. He simply didn’t see where Talian was coming up with the idea that he was dissatisfied with him.
“Why would it be you?” The questions was both rhetorical and curious, and B’jin shook his head, slightly bemused. “You didn’t choose to Impress,” the greenrider’s gaze flickered to the dragon behind Talian, then back to the young man’s face. “Why would I think less of you for it? What can’t help what gets dealt to us, just how we play the cards.” B’jin shrugged slightly, only bothering to lift one shoulder. “Your dragon could have done better to respect your desires not to Impress, but what is done is done.” B’jin shrugged again, still vaguely confused by what it was Talian was after. Hadn’t he already told the boy most of this stuff?
“I would never think less of you, Talian.” He leaned forward, smirking impishly. “You’d have to be a lot worse to irk me,” the boy was trying and while it would certainly be a struggle to call him anything more than ‘adequate’, he was hardly a bad dragonrider. Just, his skills would certainly be of much more use in at least a dozen other areas than putting him in a fighting wing. He’d either drive his wingmates completely insane, or end up killing himself or his dragon, likely from frustration causing an error in judgement.
“You’re still you.” He smiled again, leaning back slightly and kicking his legs out, resting his weight backwards on his hands, elbows locked. “You just have a fat lump living in your brain now, too.” It wasn’t even spoken as an insult; B’jin called Larrikith a fat lump all the time. It didn’t occur to him that Talian or Khaduceth might view it as an insult, and his smile was playful.
“Why would it be you?” The questions was both rhetorical and curious, and B’jin shook his head, slightly bemused. “You didn’t choose to Impress,” the greenrider’s gaze flickered to the dragon behind Talian, then back to the young man’s face. “Why would I think less of you for it? What can’t help what gets dealt to us, just how we play the cards.” B’jin shrugged slightly, only bothering to lift one shoulder. “Your dragon could have done better to respect your desires not to Impress, but what is done is done.” B’jin shrugged again, still vaguely confused by what it was Talian was after. Hadn’t he already told the boy most of this stuff?
“I would never think less of you, Talian.” He leaned forward, smirking impishly. “You’d have to be a lot worse to irk me,” the boy was trying and while it would certainly be a struggle to call him anything more than ‘adequate’, he was hardly a bad dragonrider. Just, his skills would certainly be of much more use in at least a dozen other areas than putting him in a fighting wing. He’d either drive his wingmates completely insane, or end up killing himself or his dragon, likely from frustration causing an error in judgement.
“You’re still you.” He smiled again, leaning back slightly and kicking his legs out, resting his weight backwards on his hands, elbows locked. “You just have a fat lump living in your brain now, too.” It wasn’t even spoken as an insult; B’jin called Larrikith a fat lump all the time. It didn’t occur to him that Talian or Khaduceth might view it as an insult, and his smile was playful.
