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!
06.Jul.18, 07:54 AM
N’mor laughed softly, feeling a little better and a little more like himself. “Dad buys more than he can drink,” which was saying something, because N’mor was pretty sure B’jin had spent the first few months back at Teglar when they’d left the South doing nothing but over indulging in the Benden wine he loved so much. N’mor was pretty sure he’d slowed down since then, and while the greenrider was definitely an alcoholic, he had years of practice and was pretty high functioning when the amount of wine he put down would destroy most other men.
“Stealing it out from under his nose is too much fun,” he grinned, shrugging one shoulder. He was almost sure R’nd knew that he stole from his father, if his comment of them ‘both knowing’ where the wine was kept was anything to go by, but he hadn’t said anything to imply he disproved of N’mor’s thievery and honestly, as long as B’jin’s bewilderment when he didn’t have as much as he thought he should amused R’nd, he doubted the man would tell his mate where the bottles were going.
N’mor’s expression brightened at the positive response, and his lips quirked upwards in a small smile, before he laughed outright at the warning of a wayward daughter. “I would not have pegged you for a father,” N’mor teased, leaning up and forward, resting his weight on his arm as he leaned his body over Z’rin’s. He peered down at the bluerider playfully. “Or at least, not one so old.” His expression turned absolutely wicked. “You’re going to be such a young grandfather someday.” Closing the distance, he kissed Z’rin lightly and then sat up a little more.
“I can be scarce if you prefer,” he hardly wanted to impose on father-daughter time, especially since he wasn’t comfortable with becoming that much of a part of Z’rin’s life. Not because he didn’t like Z’rin, or even because he couldn’t imagine that, but because becoming a staple in Z’rin’s life meant never having the chance in T’ryn’s and even with his best friend seemingly behind a thick barrier of ice, N’mor wasn’t prepared to give up that permanently. Not yet, anyway.
“I do, however, have rather a lot of experience with spoiled little Ladies.” N’mor gave Z’rin a teasing smile. “You should introduce her to Amorandii some time. She would be thrilled, I’m sure. She’s living in Telgar Hold with my aunt and the Lord and Lady.” His little sister would be thirteen in a few months’ time, and while N’mor hadn’t been down to visit her recently, he knew she was happy living it up in gowns and parties and learning all the appropriate things a Lady should be learning. She was much more suited to that lifestyle, than the rambunctious Weyrlife she’d been born into.
“Stealing it out from under his nose is too much fun,” he grinned, shrugging one shoulder. He was almost sure R’nd knew that he stole from his father, if his comment of them ‘both knowing’ where the wine was kept was anything to go by, but he hadn’t said anything to imply he disproved of N’mor’s thievery and honestly, as long as B’jin’s bewilderment when he didn’t have as much as he thought he should amused R’nd, he doubted the man would tell his mate where the bottles were going.
N’mor’s expression brightened at the positive response, and his lips quirked upwards in a small smile, before he laughed outright at the warning of a wayward daughter. “I would not have pegged you for a father,” N’mor teased, leaning up and forward, resting his weight on his arm as he leaned his body over Z’rin’s. He peered down at the bluerider playfully. “Or at least, not one so old.” His expression turned absolutely wicked. “You’re going to be such a young grandfather someday.” Closing the distance, he kissed Z’rin lightly and then sat up a little more.
“I can be scarce if you prefer,” he hardly wanted to impose on father-daughter time, especially since he wasn’t comfortable with becoming that much of a part of Z’rin’s life. Not because he didn’t like Z’rin, or even because he couldn’t imagine that, but because becoming a staple in Z’rin’s life meant never having the chance in T’ryn’s and even with his best friend seemingly behind a thick barrier of ice, N’mor wasn’t prepared to give up that permanently. Not yet, anyway.
“I do, however, have rather a lot of experience with spoiled little Ladies.” N’mor gave Z’rin a teasing smile. “You should introduce her to Amorandii some time. She would be thrilled, I’m sure. She’s living in Telgar Hold with my aunt and the Lord and Lady.” His little sister would be thirteen in a few months’ time, and while N’mor hadn’t been down to visit her recently, he knew she was happy living it up in gowns and parties and learning all the appropriate things a Lady should be learning. She was much more suited to that lifestyle, than the rambunctious Weyrlife she’d been born into.
