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
Details: Link

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!



Latest Posts



Honey! I'm home!

B'jin
of Green Larrikith

Date of Birth
23.06.683 AL, 61
Height
5'9
Eyes
Brown
Build
Sturdy, softly fit
Hair
Blonde, Silver

Threads
102
Posts
864

Written By: ThistleProse
#1
The soft, almost wispy pop that accompanied the appearance of a dragon from between was something that took time and practise to hear. Usually, one was simply in blackness, and then in light. B'jin, having been counting slowly in his mind, was prepared for the blinding midday light as his beloved green dragon appeared from the black void above the marooned island known only as Candidate Isle, and as such had his lids narrowed in preparation. It still hurt, but it wasn't as damaging as it could have been - he wasn't seeing stars.

"We're here," B'jin's voice was a soft murmur, just loud enough to be heard over the top of the wind. It was strong, up so high, but not terrible. It meant that down on the ground they would maybe have a light breeze, if anything. Clouds spotted an otherwise perfectly blue Spring sky, with the heat of a dawning summer beginning to penetrate; it would likely be a hot summer. Before him, B'jin's only view of the young man was his tight shoulders and hunched posture. His winter clothing would need to be shed before long and the temporary summer clothing offered by the Weyr at large for new arrivals would likely find a new home upon his back.

Larrikith, gliding silently, angled down toward the beach, where footprints were visible in the wavering line of sand. Whomever had left them, though, had vanished. B'jin, unsure of who currently resided on the Island, wasn't surprised. If they were new, they'd probably fled from the appearance of a dragon overhead, while those who had been present for a little longer were likely wise enough to remain indoors during the warmer hours. Katilan summers were nasty, and this was lining up to be a bad one.

At least the storms are not yet here. Larrikith's comment was heeded, but went without a response as the dragon shifted her posture and prepared for a landing. It was carefully done, with minimal bump and bustle, as she came to a rest just above the shore line, on the stubby, would-be coastal grasses. B'jin slapped her neck affectionately, and swung a leg over behind himself, in order to slide down without bustling the young man before him. He was still missing a few details about the kid, but figured they could sort them out now. He would need to, in order to fill out the required paper work.

"You can come down now, Talian." His name, at least, he remembered. Larrikith's snide comment went ignored and B'jin stood close by her side as he watched the young Healer slide down Larrikith's neck, ready to assist him if he tipped his balance in the wrong direction.

"Follow me, please. We just have some paperwork to fill out, and then I'll show you around." With the healer safely on the ground, and her rider preparing for the lengthy and, in her opinion, particularly boring portion of Searching, Larrikith stood up with a sinuous stretch and ambled towards the shore line. It was a hot day, and while she loved to get some sunshine, the water would be cool and refreshing - not yet heated up by a hot summer. B'jin watched her leave with amused affection before returning his brown eyed gaze upon the sullen healer. One hand rose to brush dark blonde hair out of his face - he'd be needing it cut again very soon.

"This, by the way, is Candidate Isle."

The island, from above, looked relatively large - and it was. It's base structure was a small mountain - or perhaps a large hill would be more accurate - that appeared to come directly up out of the lake. Easy to climb, and moderately forested with native plants it was habitable but inescapable. Watch riders and regular sweeps of the island - both on foot and in the sky - prevented the building of skips capable of escaping or those daring enough to try in what little was available to be created. Sea faring folk were rarely brought in, if only because they were harder to steal - they were also harder to maintain. From where Larrikith had dropped off her passengers, the hut that was the main living quarters of the Isle was easily spotted, as were the few sullen looking people who had appeared around the main entrance way to see the new arrival. Some few held smiles, but it was a common fact that there were fewer happy to arrive, than the were grumpy. B'jin grimaced.

They'll survive. Larrikith wasn't optimistic - she was being literal. They had no choice, and once they realised that, they would conform to their new living arrangements. B'jin's lips pursed. He had been amongst those that wanted to return to the North, and while he was content here, he missed his old life, his son, and what 'could have been'. It was moments such as this one, that brought down his usually exuberant personality for a more dour outlook that Nemall was more familiar with than the rest of the Katilan population.

Larrikith, barging into his mind, brought him back to the present. Finish with the child, so you can bathe me.

Why did people dream of Impressing, again?

Smile lighting up the man's face, lines were brought into life around his eyes and mouth, filling and dipping in areas that betrayed the expression to be a usual and common occurrence. He gave his attention back to Talian once more, and his eyes danced.

"I have orders! We must get this done so I can bathe my grumpy bonded." Childish grin still in place, B'jin just about skipped up to the hut, waving at another of his victims (this one much less sullen) and waited patiently at the door for Talian to catch up.


Wow. Upsy downsy much? I think between the story I'm reading, and our chat, I had some difficulty getting into B'jin's character o_o; My bad!
I expect he'll loosen up now he's got Talian where he can't escape Xd

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579 & 3,342 IC

Written By: ZZZ Archived
#2
Finally, the cold was gone.

Those few seconds seemed like an eternity. Talian inhaled sharply as they emerged into the warm summer sun, his cold hands still clutching furiously to Larrikith's straps. He kept his eyes closed, but he could sense the light warming his skin. They'd emerged, and they'd emerged somewhere warm and humid.

Where could this beast have taken him? How was such a thing even possible? He'd heard only the vaguest tales of dragons; he had little time for harpers' yarns and his father was not a patient or wasteful man. He'd never allowed his only son to indulge in fanciful fairy tales. Dragons no longer existed, so stories about them weren't important.

Huh, no longer existed? Then what was this terrible green monster? Where had she and her keeper brought him?

Talian finally opened his eyes. He instantly regretted it. The ground was racing up to meet him and the rush of air made it difficult to breathe. He thought the rider said something to him, but he hiss of the wind drowned it out. The young healer could only grunt incoherently in response, his head spinning with utter confusion.

He grunted uncomfortably as Larrikith settled on the ground. His stomach twisted in knots. He could deal with nausea most of the time, but this wasn't spawned by blood and gore; this was pure fear and confusion. "What...the...?" he asked weakly as he scrambled to get down, stumbling awkwardly and early pitching forward into the dirt.

He immediately spun around, his knees almost buckling beneath him. He looked at the dragon in pure terror, his usually calm eyes flickering between her and the rider as if he expected to be attacked by one or the other at any moment.

On some level, he understood that the dragon wasn't going to actually physically attack him. Dragons supposedly didn't eat people. That was one of the few things he actually knew about them. Besides, if they wanted to just rip him to pieces, why bother doing...whatever they'd done. How did they travel so far so fast?

That thought didn't do much to comfort him. He shuddered and backed up, scanning his surroundings as carefully as he could comfortably could. He wanted to know where they were, but he didn't dare take his sight off the dragon.

And then, an explanation was given. Candidate Isle, huh? "Candidate Isle?" Talian blurted, his words matching his thoughts. He finally mustered up the grit to have a real look around. "....Who are you? Why are you doing this?" he asked, ashamed of how pitiful he sounded.

He instinctively wiped some sweat from his forehead. His hands were shaking.

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B'jin
of Green Larrikith

Date of Birth
23.06.683 AL, 61
Height
5'9
Eyes
Brown
Build
Sturdy, softly fit
Hair
Blonde, Silver

Threads
102
Posts
864

Written By: ThistleProse
#3
Ridiculous child. Larrikith intoned, her tone somewhere between snide and disgusted as she cast a glance at the young healer. B'jin, raised his eyebrows, features taking on an expression of bewilderment. Larrikith opted to fill him in on her train of thought - When has a dragon ever tasted human flesh? She was definitely disgusted, now, and snorted disdainfully as she spread her wings under a few inches of cool salt water, mood dispelling as she sighed blissfully. B'jin laughed abruptly, the sound aimed at his dragon. As a result, he almost missed Talian's confused question.

He offered no explanation as he turned to look down at the healer, waiting as he was by the entrance into the hall. "Are you coming?" While the simple question could be taken as irritable, B'jin's placid nature and lyrical voice melted any such intone away from it and instead made it curious and quizzical. "You'll burn, you know, standing around like that. Katilan sun is nasty."

As his voice fell away, behind them in the water, Larrikith made a sound partway between a rumble and a croon as she allowed her legs to collapse under her and her mossy green body vanished under the rippling waves that coaxed the sandy shoreline. B'jin smiled serenely and waved his hand towards the doorway.

"Come! I don't bite! We have paper work to fill - well, I do anyway! And we need to get you settled in! Come inside, Talian and I'll explain everything to you! Promise!" Still grinning like a fool, B'jin opened the front door and stood back, looking expectantly at Talian.

"Well?"

B'jiin refused to answer any questions until the young man he'd spirited away was safely in the Office provided within - he'd tried explaining things to a sullen new candidate while out on the beach once before. It had not gone well, and as a result, he had taken to making sure they were indoors and safely seated in a comfortable chair with their back to a wall (that seemed to make them feel better, for the most part) before he'd answer any questions.

I could threaten to eat him, Larrikith put in, her head suddenly appearing above the water's surface and her eyes glowing an odd sparkle of colour as she teased. That'll make him move!

You are a horrible creature, and I love you.

Larrikith rumbled her approval, much more vocally than she would normally as she stood up in a fashionable display of wings, water and green glory.

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579 & 3,342 IC

Written By: ZZZ Archived
#4
Talian had no idea how to take this. In the midst of all this confusion, this guy was trying to comfort him, acting so nice and pleasant...even using his name! But how did he even know it?

"How do you know me?" he asked, his voice catching briefly and causing him to clear his throat. He took a few nervous steps forward, pulled primarily by inevitability. Yes, he could run away like an idiot, but how far was he doing to get with that monster lurking just a short distance away in the water? Running off would be crazy at worst and a waste of energy at best. No, he had to follow the greenrider inside; it was his only chance of finding out what was going on.

"I have...no interest in getting 'settled in'," he warned, though a warning from him was like the roar of a kitten. He sidestepped B'jin awkwardly and moved inside. At least he was out of the pounding sun. B'jin wasn't kidding, the heat was ruthless. What sort of terrible place was this?

Talian eyed B'jin with mistrust. While most people might have seen a friendly, even goofy smile, Talian was immediately suspicious. It was in his nature to fear the worst, and he could only assume that this lunatic was getting a laugh at his prisoner's expense. This man was insane! He took a quick glance around the interior of the little building he'd been led to, but he saw nothing to indicate the greenrider's intentions...and no way to escape. Not that he was going to try, but the sheer lack of option was somehow depressing in it's own right.

He swallowed hard in an effort to compose himself. His heart raced and his palms were sweaty. His exceptionally steady hands remained so, not shaking in the least as he laced his fingers together in front of himself. He carefully slowed his breathing, reminding himself no to panic.  He would have looked more or less calm, except for the expression on his face. It was his eyes that gave it away. They darted about and widened at the slightest sound or movement, practically back-lit with fear.

He resisted the urge to back away from B'jin as far as he could. The wall to his back would only remind him of how cornered he was. Instead, he stared the man down, pleading for answers. He didn't bother to say anything else, he just waited.

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B'jin
of Green Larrikith

Date of Birth
23.06.683 AL, 61
Height
5'9
Eyes
Brown
Build
Sturdy, softly fit
Hair
Blonde, Silver

Threads
102
Posts
864

Written By: ThistleProse
#5
B'jin watched the jumpy young man enter the small room that was optimistically labelled an 'office'. It had a heavy worked desk, a filing system against the far wall, and several heavy wooden chairs that were puffed up with stuffed pillows. It was more functional than comfortable, but no one had yet complained about the state of the cushions or the set up. B'jin could think of at least a dozen things he would prefer to do over paperwork, but at least he was good at it and had a tidy hand. Some of his fellow searchriders? Not so much.

"You can take a seat." His voice was cheerful, but toned down to suit the small confines of the room. The greenrider closed the door with a gentle click, and made his way over to the large desk with light steps that belied his height but were reasonable, considering his lithe and lightly moulded body. Twisting himself, B'jin sat himself regally in the seat behind the desk, and began shuffling around in one of the draws. After a few moments, he withdrew a sheet of carefully tended paper, an ink bottle and a quill. Dipping the tip neatly, he began to write across the top of the sheet. Were Talian to lean forward enough to view, he'd see that B'jin was writing the date, in a particular format, across the top.

"Okay, I need your birth date, if you please." B'jin lifted his chocolate eyes from the parchment to meet the gaze of the trembling healer, waiting patiently. He didn't offer any reasoning for why he needed the birthday of the young man. Instead, almost without waiting to hear the answer, he began requesting more information.

"I also need your place of birth, current holding, exact rank and," he looked up and frowned thoughtfully. "Take on being stolen, that would be negative." He scribbled that word down without waiting for Talian to give any opinion on that. With that done, he looked up expectantly and awaited the requested information. Paperwork was boring, but it was particularly useful. It was also something he was more than happy to leave to more important (and, as a result, generally boring) people.

Why every other little girl dreamed of 'riding' gold, when she would spend more time locked in a tiny room, B'jin had no idea.

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Written By: ZZZ Archived
#6
What was this, a job interview?

Talian shot B'jin a distasteful look and seated himself. He eyed the paperwork, which he was no stranger to, and realized he had no idea what format it was. What the shards was going on? There was a gentle prick of curiosity prodding at him, but it was far too faint to overcome more pressing emotions.

"I don't see how that's...any of your business," he grunted, though his efforts at being forceful came out like air lazily released from a balloon. There was no force, just...sputtering.

He decided to answer the questions, if only to expedite this awful process. "206," he grumbled. Hhe took a moment to recall the exact day, as he rarely paused to celebrate it. "Fort hold, and eh...nothing." True enough, he had no current holding or even any space of his own, other than an office down the hall from his father's. 'Rank is Jr. Journeyman, with an honorary masters," he replied. That was, in his estimation, the most truthful he could be about it. There was a difference between being a master by experience and a master by brainpower. He still wielded a Jr. Journeyman's experience, and he continued to differentiate the two.

Assuming he wouldn't be believed, he reached into his pocket and produced his knots, which he slung carelessly on the table. "Look..my father doesn't have any money, so you're wasting your time..." he said.  That was the only logical answer he could think of. He wasn't important, not like a Lord Holder's son or an actual craft master. He was just a good student. That was all! But perhaps his early promotion meant he'd attracted unwanted attention? Perhaps this nutjob thought his family was somehow rich to afford obtaining such a promotion for him?

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B'jin
of Green Larrikith

Date of Birth
23.06.683 AL, 61
Height
5'9
Eyes
Brown
Build
Sturdy, softly fit
Hair
Blonde, Silver

Threads
102
Posts
864

Written By: ThistleProse
#7
B'jin ignored Talian's expression in favour of drawing a star in the far corner of the sheet of parchment. He had been scolded, before, for adding artistic little additions to the official records, but he didn't give two hoots. The Weyrleaders were quite happy to ignore all the introduction paperwork, and only deal with the new arrival when they were well and ready - if B'jin decided drawing on the silly parchment was the best way to handle a sully new candidate, than by the Red Star he would draw!
Besides, while his artistic skills were not on a level with his voice, they were at least more than acceptable. The single star had turned into a night scene, before he looked up at the end of Talian's spluttering response. An eyebrow arched, and he almost smiled (but somehow managed not to) at the boy's grumbling.

"Right!" The dragonrider scribbled down the year, leaving a space for the added exact date when it could be pried out of the healer. B'jin wasn't particularly good at getting the exacts, but his candidates were usually useful and fit in well enough that he was excused. Pre-plague Larrikith had had a good track record for candidates that Impressed. He had yet to see if she was as good post-plague. Circumstances had refused their allowance to Search for the Renewed Hope clutch.

Probably because your strongest desire was to run home, not bring in more people.

Granted B'jin replied, not at all ashamed, as he copied down Fort Hold and then blinked at Talian when he offered no such current hold. Shrugging, B'jin wrote down 'Journeying', feeling slightly happy about that. After all, those that were bounding between holds were the least likely to be miss-

B'jin's thought cut off abruptly, and outside, Larrikith let out a sound that was suspiciously similar to a strangled feline. Raising his gaze from the parchment, the greenrider's warm brown eyes were wide and almost popping while his face - usually a healthy tan - had quickly faded to a sickly shade of grey.

"..." He silently picked up the knots, eyes still wide, and looked vaguely sick as he examined them. Apparently, he was hoping to find some fault with them that would mark them as fake. Not finding it, he slumped dejectedly in his seat. He shook his head, ignoring Talian's statement about not being rich.

"I'm going to be in so much trouble." The statement was a sulk, a pout, and his lip stuck out typically as he finished speaking. He was still holding the healers knots in front of his face, just staring at them.

"D'ren is going to kill me!" Suddenly, B'jin was on his feet, his eyes wild as he threw himself out of the chair and began to pace the room, looking slightly scary as hysteria kicked in to the eccentric man's brain. "He is going to hang me. He is going to drop me between and chain my dragon to a chair!" He turned wild, crazy eyes on Talian and stared at him.

Wailing, B'jin collapsed back in his chair, and dropped his head heavily onto the desk. The crack was loud, and outside, Larrikith could be heard making odd sounds as she came up the beach. Then her green face shoved through the open window and she stared at B'jin with obvious disdain before turning her attention upon Talian.

Stupid boy! Larrikith's voice, usually dry and irritable, was additionally angry as she bespoke the boy. All he had had to do was think 'master' once, once and they would have left him alone!

B'jin groaned, and looked up at Talian, meeting the Healers eyes with his own, still looking slightly wild and oddly afraid.

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Written By: ZZZ Archived
#8
How could this get any stranger?

Talian watched in muted horror as the deranged man started to spiral into even greater madness. Surely this screw-loose was descending into even darker depths, subject to horrors unknown to mortal men. Why, he was even speaking in tongues! D'ren? What in Faranth's name was a D'ren? Was that some sort of title? Perhaps some sort of renegade warlord, befitting of this absolutely uncivilized location?

"...Why are you the one panicking?" Talian asked abruptly, his tone dry and unpleasantly low. He clicked his fingers anxiously on the table, uncomfortably aware of the sweat trickling down his neck. He didn't like the idea of sitting in a small room with a man who was clearly clutching the last frayed strings of his sanity. Talian's face bleached and he set his jaw.

"I..." He wasn't sure what he was about to say, but whatever it was disappeared abruptly when Larrikith's voice appeared in his head. He had no idea dragons could talk. As far as he knew, they were animals. So naturally, when a female voice materialized unexpectedly in his head, he feared for his own mind.

"Oh no..." he squeaked, gripping the sides of his head and slumping down in his chair. "...It's happened, hasn't it? All the studying and father's constant clamoring, all the surprise examinations and the questioning by the masters' committee...I've lost it, haven't I?" He leaned forward across the table, eyes wide and jaw hanging slack.  "I bet you don't even exist... do you?" he asked, voice trembling.

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B'jin
of Green Larrikith

Date of Birth
23.06.683 AL, 61
Height
5'9
Eyes
Brown
Build
Sturdy, softly fit
Hair
Blonde, Silver

Threads
102
Posts
864

Written By: ThistleProse
#9
Larrikith couldn't think, and thinking was precisely what she needed to be doing at this very moment. Before her, in a room smaller than her body, and making a lot of noise (both in a literal sense, and in a manner of the bonded) were two men who were severely freaking out over something that could have been avoided, if either of them had bothered to introduce themselves before things were taken into accordance. Larrikith was a clever Searcher, and she was particularly proud of her ability to slip into an unsuspecting mind and poke around. Usually, she could easily inform B'jin of which - who - to avoid. Unfortunately, the young man in the room appeared to be one of those that did not have the ability to praise himself - or accept anyone that did it for him. Had he been a little more thoughtful, she could have found out he was a Master - in whatever manner - and they would have left him behind.

But no, no. Larrikith jerked her head, trying to physically separate her thoughts from B'jin's, and in the process cracked her head against the window frame above her. The sound of a dragon skull and heavy wooden frame coming together was rather loud and sickening. B'jin, mind-linked, yelped in agony and clapped his hands to the back of his head, blinking spots that weren't a physical effect of his own body. Larrikith, too, yelped and the sound echoed in the small house as her eyes flashed blood red and whirled rapidly in pain.

"Larri!" B'jin, forgetting for the moment all about the young healer who should not have been a Master, rushed to his dragon's head and began stroking her nose and crooning nonsense under his breath. After a moment, it appeared that the hard whack to the back of the head had settled both dragon and rider, who turned their attention, as one, upon the bemoaning Talian.

"I exist," B'jin stated solemnly. "For now," he added, under his breath. "When D'ren finds out you're a master I may or may not survive." His lips pursed, and he took a seat, rubbing the bridge of his nose as Larrikith snorted a gusty breath out.

"My name is B'jin, and I am a Searchrider of Larrikith, my green." B'jin indicated, perhaps unnecessarily, his green dragon. She was watching, her chin resting on the lower window frame. Her eyes looked slightly dull as she nursed a headache. "We were sent to the North to find potential candidates. Our Weyrwoman's gold, Nirinath, flew in Mid Spring, and her clutch will be upon the Sands before we know it. Depending on how you take to your new life here at Katila, will dictate your ability to Stand, and chances of Impression." The man paused, and brushed a hand over his face, looking tired. It was a change in expression that almost made him look his near-fifty turns, instead of the twenty odd he seemed to appear the majority of the time. "You're being a Master is going to cause a great deal of complications. Only those of Journeyman rank or below are eligible to be Searched, and I highly doubt our Weyrleader is going to be very happy with me over this. Unfortunately," B'jin continued, dipping his quill and absently drawing in the other corner of the sheet, "you cannot be returned to the North."

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Written By: ZZZ Archived
#10
Talian watched wretchedly as B'jin and his dragon settled themselves. The young healer didn't know what to make of the scene; the dragon and rider appeared to be feeding off of each others' emotiions or something of the like. It was a strange sight, but not enough for him to be too curious. There were much more serious matters at hand.

He remained slumped in his seat as B'jin explained himself.  So dragons did still exist. Well, that was something of a given...Larrikith was right there, and making quite a scene. The important detail was that they still existed as an organized force. A small part of him was pleased. Dragons were mythical now. The part of him that longed for imagination - imagination largely crushed by his father's strict regime - thought that was pretty cool.

The rest, however, was not.

He frowned as B'jin continued. A candidate, now? That sounded absolutely awful. His stomach knotted miserably as B'jin continued, but one thing looked like it may be Talian's saving grace. If they weren't supposed to take masters...

Well, so much for that. Talian's suggestion was shot down before he's finished taking a breath. He sighed wearily and slumped even further, unable to even muster anger. "This is ridiculous..." he groaned. "I don't care about dragons...I have important things to do back home! You can't expect me.." His throat was knotting. He blinked vigorously tried to swallow the lump.

"You said it yourself...masters aren't eligible. I have an important place back at Fort...and well..I'm sure my father will n-notice my absence.." he reasoned, though he knew he was grasping at straws.

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B'jin
of Green Larrikith

Date of Birth
23.06.683 AL, 61
Height
5'9
Eyes
Brown
Build
Sturdy, softly fit
Hair
Blonde, Silver

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102
Posts
864

Written By: ThistleProse
#11
"Well, actually, masters are eligible." B'jin grimaced, and shrugged. "We could sorely use the experience and knowledge you have. The reason we avoid Masters is the simplest of explanations - they are too easily missed, besides the fact that they don't often travel outside of their home Hold or Hall. Journeymen, not so much. Unfortunately, the problem with Journeyers is that the are not home to the knowledge of a master. Katila Weyr is vastly populated by Plague-scarred dragonriders, and an assortment of children who only have enough knowledge to be useful with the brats."

He was being a bit harsh, maybe but the man was completely serious, and his expression - while still lingering in self-pity for the trouble he was sure he would be in - was also home to an uncharacteristically out of place frown. It pulled his usual smile lines into odd angles and gave the man a much older appearance. It didn't suit him, not at all. The situation at Katila Weyr was serious, however, and B'jin was not so naive to not know that. Their habit of only spiriting away Journeymen and women meant their education levels could only extend so far; though there were those that had been on the brink of their Masters, they didn't hold the knots that this young man did - or rather, B'jin did, since he still had them wrapped up in his fist.

Liking his lips, B'jin rolled his head on his neck, pleased when the joints didn't crack, and looked lazily at Talian. "I don't think so. The reason Larrikith settled on you, was the fact that she easily discovered your lack of anxious families. You won't be missed by anyone of that nature. Unfortunately, we didn't realise you would be missed by the Hall you look to." B'jin pursed his lips, and shook his head. "Larrikith insists she couldn't find anything in your mind to hint at being a master, and I am inclined to believe her." B'jin's eyebrows rose slightly. "Had you had a little more pride in your rank, you wouldn't be here."

Go easy, B'jin.

"At any rate, what's done is done." The man mostly ignored his dragon's input. Extending his hand above the desk, B'jin carefully placed the knots of mastery upon it, in front of the very unhappy looking young man.

"I am sorry, Talian, but you are here, now, and there isn't any going back."

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Written By: ZZZ Archived
#12
Talian reclaimed his knots and put them in his pocket again, clearly not intending to actually wear them. "...You talk like I should, but it's just a title," he said grumpily, his voice strained with desperation. "I haven't been for long. I...was always way ahead of my class. I never forget anything, and...I don't know, it comes naturally to me." He recoiled a bit, well aware that he was losing his composure. The words were just spilling out. It was like an avalanche. He didn't feel like he could stop it if he tried.

"My father argued with the Master Crafter and the other masters at the hall for turns to get me promoted early. It's...not going to do you any good. They promoted me in recognition of my intellect, that's all. It was a reward for being adept. I was leaps and bounds ahead of anyone my age. But I'm still young..I don't have the actual experience of...of even my father!" He spoke faster and faster, voice still trembling. "Well, there was the surgery, which I didn't expect to be able to pull off, but...but...I still have to learn..."

He paused and placed one hand on his brow, trying to compose himself. "...I cannot believe you've done this to me. You are...the worst villain I've ever met in my life."  Coming from someone as docile as Talian, this was a grave insult. He almost sounded like he regretted saying it...but he regretted his situation more.

One of B'jin's statements particularly bothered the young healer. You won't be missed by anyone of that nature. He would have expected it logically, but it stung to actually hear. Of course his father wouldn't miss him, at least not personally. Talian was an academic tool, and something to be shown off. That was it. Still, he scowled bitterly at the words, but didn't argue.

He shivered a bit, and something snapped. He sighed slowly and dropped his hands back to the table. He slowly pulled his knots from his pocket again and started to fiddle with them, but he said nothing else.

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B'jin
of Green Larrikith

Date of Birth
23.06.683 AL, 61
Height
5'9
Eyes
Brown
Build
Sturdy, softly fit
Hair
Blonde, Silver

Threads
102
Posts
864

Written By: ThistleProse
#13
B'jin listened quietly as Talian seemed to go off on a tangent. He learned more about the young man in those few moments than he had been able to previously, and felt that it was probably a step forward even if Talian was going backwards in the process. A small, quiet smile worked itself onto B'jin's lips, and he gave the young healer a patient look.

"We all have much to learn, Talian, and experience can only be obtained through the years." He indicated the knots the young man was fiddling with, "you, however, do have the knowledge required to assist the other young men and women who claim Healer as their craft through to a Masters ranking."

Pausing at that, B'jin seemed to let the subject die - or at least, he changed it to something else. His voice was soft and low as he spoke, leaning forward slightly in his chair so his weight was on his elbows upon the table. The dragonrider's expression was wide eyed, and home to the innocent gleam that was more commonly seen and accepted around Katila Weyr. His eyes, however, were home to pain and regrets that he let the healer see.

"Very few at Katila Weyr are happy to be here, Talian. We all have friends, family and loved ones back North. The decision to stay here is not something everyone agreed with, but we do as we are commanded, for we cannot outrank our Queen." He sounded sad, and he picked at his sleeve with one hand, not looking him in the eye for a moment. Glancing up, B'jin met Talian's eyes. "I have a son, up north, a little older than you would be. There are many here, with children that were left behind. More, still, with children that never made it through the Plague."

A shudder twisted down his spine, and B'jin jerked straighter in his seat. His expression reformed in an instant, eyes flashing as he glanced towards Larrikith. Obviously, something had been said, and he smiled lovingly at the green beast in the window. B'jin was still feeling the very real sting of losing his sister and her children.

"But, we all make do. We all build new lives." He grinned. "I have two small children, now. A son, and a daughter. Amorandii is only four, and very sweet." A pause. "She looks so much like her late aunt." Whispered as it was, the healer may not have heard. Either way, it wouldn't matter. So long as the young man understood one thing -- he was hardly alone. B'jin didn't enjoy being made out to be a monster, and was watching the young man sadly.

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Written By: ZZZ Archived
#14
He certainly felt alone. B'jin's little story didn't make him feel much better, for he found himself skeptical. People like that were usually told to appear sympathetic or friendly, like some of his teachers back at the hall, or even perhaps his father. As he glanced sullenly across the table, the young man barely noticed B'jin's saddened expression. It was overshadowed by the exaggerated image of Talerian, the young healer's father, who so often spoke in the same way.

"I know you want this," Talerian would say, "but that is better for you in the long run. I felt that was when I was your age, too, and look how I turned out!"

Look how I turned out...

Look how I turned out...

"I love you, son. I want what's best for you."

Talian shuddered, perhaps in response to B'jin or to his own little flashback. A dour expression solidified on his face. He looked like a ghost in comparison to his previously confused but still vibrant self. Yes, he was like a little ghost, huddled opposite of B'jin and threatening to evaporate away with the first gust of wind or heavy breath.

He didn't want to build a new life. It was too hard to build the one he had before. He'd finally been recognized for all his hard work; pouring his entire childhood into a field that he didn't even choose! Every evening, every weekend, every birthday and holiday! Every shred of his energy went right to the cause, as if that marvelous brain of his would atrophy overnight if not put to constant effort. And then, thrust into the world as a journeyman with absolutely no socialization? Sent away from the only home he knew with no preparation? He would mend flesh, but he sure as shards couldn't deal with the public!

Those turns had helped him improve, though.  He slowly got used to talking to people, though he never outgrew his shyness. He realized he cared about them. They were all so interesting and bright, so alive in ways he was unaccustomed to seeing. As he became comfortable, his experience grew quickly...and he was finally rewarded with his promotion. He could stay at the hall and practice more, work on his specialization...and of course, there was Fiora.

Somehow, he wanted to blame Talerian for this. He'd gotten too close to being able to take care of himself. The old man must have hated losing control.

He had no energy to argue. He wilted before B'jin and squeezed his knots until his knuckles went white. "Just do whatever you're going to do, I suppose," he said as steadily as he could, realizing all to well that to fight was pointless. He felt for a moment that his own heartbeat had faded away. "What...happens now?"

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B'jin
of Green Larrikith

Date of Birth
23.06.683 AL, 61
Height
5'9
Eyes
Brown
Build
Sturdy, softly fit
Hair
Blonde, Silver

Threads
102
Posts
864

Written By: ThistleProse
#15
He is very unhappy. Larrikith intoned quietly, her head tilting as she peered at the man in question, her eyes swirling lightly in colours that dictated her uncomfortable mood.

I know that, love

I don't think you do, the dragon returned, her voice frowning even if her features couldn't convey the scrunching of eyebrows she didn't have. He was unhappy before he came here, for a long time, I think.

B'jin blinked, as he realised that Larrikith was poking around in the youngster's head. He probably should tell her off for it, but it had become a regular occurrence for the dragons to delve into the minds of those they stole away from the North - they had to be sound, before being offered the chance to Impress - and the easiest, surest way to be certain that a potential candidate wouldn't cause a dragon to Suicide (such as that one girl in Renewed Hope) was to thoroughly dig into their mind, their memories, and their thoughts.

I didn't dig deep enough, Larrikith admitted, sounding chastened. He is not candidate material.

B'jin froze for a moment, and turned frowning brown eyes upon his dragon. Wonderful, love. Not only have we stolen a master crafter, but we have also stolen one who is not mentally stable. Well done! Sarcasm dripped from the thoughts. We're going to be lost between -- if we're lucky! Shaking his head, B'jin turned his attention back upon Talian as he asked his question.

"Well, you will be given a room here on Candidate Isle, until a dragon-test confirms you aren't going to flee on us and put Katila at risk of discovery. Which, coincidentally, is why no one is allowed to return North. You will meet either Weyrwoman Tusen, Weyrleader D'ren, or perhaps both. Probably both, considering your rank and status."

B'jin paused, to allow Talian time to take that in. After a moment, he continued. "Once you have adjusted sufficiently, you will be allowed to move in to Katila proper. Once there, you will likely be melded into the Healer Hall, while also being shuffled into our Chore Wings - everyone here is required to pull their weight and chores alternate on a regular basis." A thoughtful pause. "We have Gathers, to spice things up, and sometimes interesting things happen. We have enough green beauties to fly every other day at least, and there is a feline pride on the outskirts of the Weyr that have caused a few problems recently."



Code:
[span style="background-color:#111905;"][color=#93aa73]Larrikith Speech[/color][/span]

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Written By: ZZZ Archived
#16
"I don't care about gathers," was his first and most sincere comment. He didn't see any point for such things, especially not here.

A healing hall? Fine. That was where he was most useful. The idea of doing chores was awfully demeaning for someone like himself, but that didn't matter in the long run either. He was obviously a prisoner here, and imagined he would be treated like one. He stifled a sigh and put his knots back in his pocket.

He looked back at B'jin, his expression somewhat lifeless compared to before, and straightened himself in his chair. He realized he'd snapped, but was too tired to do anything about it. He just shook his head. "...Okay. Where do I need to go?" he said. He'd lapsed into his old apprentice self, the boy who just mindlessly followed orders from the adults. The adults all seemed to know what was best for him. They were all so experienced and wise, after all.

He wanted to argue with B'jin, he really did. He wanted to point out the huge flaws in that system; how someone would see a dragon someday, or some poor victim would escape an attempted kidnapping...and dragonriders would be seen as monsters, not the saviors they were supposed to be. Heroic things didn't go around scooping up children. In a pragmatic sense, it wasn't even logical for them to endanger their reputation this way! They would never be welcomed north again, not after this truth got out...

He also wanted to point out how unfair it was, but B'jin knew. Talian could tell that the other man already knew. A knowing, accusing expression crept into his eyes as he again forced the knot in his throat down. Since when had life ever been fair, anyhow? This was just another setback. He'd deal with it the way he always did.

He drummed his fingers on the desk in agitation. "...I'm not going to try to run away," he muttered truthfully. "That would be suicide." His tone was heavy as lead.








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B'jin
of Green Larrikith

Date of Birth
23.06.683 AL, 61
Height
5'9
Eyes
Brown
Build
Sturdy, softly fit
Hair
Blonde, Silver

Threads
102
Posts
864

Written By: ThistleProse
#17
B'jin smiled tolerantly at the young man sitting across from him. "Yes, they aren't always what they are cracked up to be. Ours tend to involve a lot of alcohol - Benden, usually, and music. Katilan alcohol is very rough and will take longer to get used to than the Weyr itself."

B'jin stood up carefully, and took the sheet of parchment with him. Holding the item without folding or denting it, B'jin rolled it into a tube and wrapped a small length of leather around it. This done, he quietly indicated with one hand that Talian should also rise. Walking to the door, B'jin opened it and with a quick glance over his shoulder, lead the way towards the living quarters of the large Hut they were in.

"There are those that try," B'jin muttered, his tone unhappy, "and it never ends well." The young man probably didn't need to be told of drownings from those that attempted to get off the Isle before a dragon could rescue them (the desperation required to attempt swimming off the Isle in itself gave B'jin pause as to why a dragon would chose such a potential candidate), those that fled the Weyr proper, to become fodder for a felines stomach. If they were lucky, a dragonrider would find them before they ended up in trouble... B'jin shuddered, and cleared his mind of such thoughts.

Pausing, the greenrider opened a door after a single knock, and looked around. It was empty, and appeared uninhabited. Pursing his lips thoughtfully, B'jin turned to look at Talian. "This room will have no companion at the moment. Would you prefer your own room? There are some other young men on the Isle that you could bunk with if you would prefer."

The young man was welcome to bunk with one of the women also on the Isle, if he preferred, but while the Dragonriders wouldn't forbid such an occurrence, they didn't particularly go out of their way to encourage it, either. Most people who found themselves forced onto the Isle weren't really looking for companionship. Then again, there were those that were.

"I'll leave you to exchange insults about Dragonriders with your fellows here on the Isle." The tone of B'jin's voice was a combination of amused and understanding. It was never easy on the new comers, and B'jin could emphasize with that.

"Did you need anything, Talian? I need to speak to B'jin before Larrikith gossips."

I do NOT gossip! A pause. Ronarth says D'ren is in his hut.

B'jin groaned.

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Written By: ZZZ Archived
#18
The young man literally had nothing else to say. He just shrugged, knowing well that to flee was suicide, no matter where they were located geographically; he could tell they were in the middle of nowhere, and he barely had the 'survival' skills necessary to get from one hold to another. He didn't care about roommates, either. He'd prefer to avoid them. They would probably want to be precisely what B'jin was suggesting; talk about the dragonriders. Negative or not, Talian had no interest in it. All it would do was remind him of his situation. The last thing he needed was someone to wallow in self-pity with. Surely they would feed off of each other's sadness, and it would quickly become overwhelming.

He exhaled slowly, as if preparing himself for some sort of physical pain, and rose to his feet. He shuffled off in the direction B'jin had indicated, not bothering to look up or even bid the rider farewell. No nasty look, no last comment, just a dragging, resigned walk into the uninhabited room, like a convict going to execution. Unlike a convict, however, he didn't even try to save his dignity.

He slipped into the room and sat lightly on the edge of the bed. He heard the greenrider ask him if he needed anything, but it took a moment to register. "Not that you can give me," he replied honestly, closing his eyes before leaning back against the bed. Faranth...he needed to sleep. Or think. Or something.

He kept his eyes closed, waiting lethargically for the dragonrider to go away.

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