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



[G] [C] [EVENT] 739.07.27 | Marred by Flame
5am | N'mor

Z'rin
of Blue Varralath

Date of Birth
08.10.712, 32
Height
6'2
Eyes
Pale Blue
Build
Fit
Hair
Brown, shaggy

Threads
5
Posts
101

Written By: SunsetWay
#1
Eyes slowly fluttered opened with a groan of pain. A vision of someone familiar greeted him and Z’rin tried to smile before darkness claimed him again.

The second time he awoke, the chair was empty. Z’rin frowned and decided he had imagined his lover waiting for him. The amount of pain he was in likely brought on hallucinations though he couldn’t remember why he was in so much pain. It didn’t matter then as the battle to fight the grogginess was lost and to sleep he went once more.

When next he woke, he saw that person napping in a chair. He had enough time to appreciate the charming quality of the sleeping, peaceful face despite how uncomfortable he had to be, before falling asleep again himself.

Z’rin stirred awake again, this time feeling far more awake than he had before. He idly wondered if he had been drugged and if Casa was to blame for this. Who knew what else she had picked up when she got that sex drug of hers. As he tried to turn over from where he lie on his stomach, pain shot through a leg and his back. A gasp and hiss of pain tried to sound at the same time and Z’rin coughed as he settled back down. Odd, he thought, as he licked his lips, at how dry his throat also felt.

You don’t remember? Varralath gently reached out to his rider, almost afraid to nudge his mind too forcefully. Z’rin frowned, finding the distance odd. His dragon was good at giving him privacy when it was needed but it never felt like this. Then again, he never felt like this either. He tried to think back on what he had been doing before sleeping but everything was still fuzzy. He remembered the heat, but that wasn’t unusual when he visited N’mor in Ista lately. Maybe his head hadn’t cleared quite as much as he thought if he was having trouble remembering things.

You were helping a family escape the wildfire that engulfed their farm. You were trapped and injured. I had to dig you out, his dragon’s voice was so soft, so afraid for him that tears welled up in Z’rin’s eyes. He didn’t dash them away, letting them fall silently as he remembered the family but nothing after something heavy had fallen on him. A dresser? The roof? He had no idea. He had so many questions about that night, including how much time had passed since then but instead he asked about something completely different.

Did I imagine N’mor sitting here with me? He didn’t know why that was so important right then. Their relationship had never been anything serious and they never discussed anything that would even imply they wanted more than the sex and light conversation that they had. But it mattered to him whether or not the bronzerider had come to see him, even if only for a moment to confirm his bluerider playmate was fine before going back out to help those that needed it. He foolishly like the young man despite knowing it was a relationship built on a good time, not a long time.

You did not. They’ve been keeping you asleep for two days and he has been here on and off during that time. Z’rin found himself smiling. Someone cared enough about him to keep checking up on him, even during such a major crisis. His own parents hadn’t bothered to look for him after a feline attack drove them from the island so long ago.

“I’m glad,” he whispered.

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N'mor
of Bronze Rhezalth

Date of Birth
19.03.722, 23
Height
5'11
Eyes
Grey-green
Build
Stocky, Fit
Hair
Reddish Brown

Threads
24
Posts
188

Written By: ThistleProse
#2
N’mor had been eavesdropping as he finally got to eat some food, covered in soot and ash and exhausted, to a couple of healers talking about some of the patients they’d had to send onward to the Healer Hall. N’mor wasn’t surprised; Ista Weyr and Hold we’re both filled to capacity with refugees from the fires, both injured and fine. His curiosity was peaked, though, when they started talking about some of the dragons they’d been tending to - again, not surprising. Rhezalth had a nasty burn on his left wingtip. It wouldn’t stop them helping more after a rest, but was enough to need a constant coating of numbweed.

It was the familiar name that caused N’mor’s fingers to numb and drop the mug of water he’d been sipping from. No one paid him any heed as he got up and interrupted the two exhausted healers, peppering then with questions until he had the information he needed - Z’rin was injured, he was holed up in a spare room, and he should be fine.

Honestly, N’mor was shocked by how little that reassured him; and slightly terrified by how much he cared about the blue rider’s well-being. He’d been listening for names he knew - his father, R’nd, T’ryn... he hadn’t expected Z’rin to be on the list. Stupid. The idiot was just as reckless and insistent on being helpful as anyone else in N’mor’s damned life.

He didn’t realise he was angry until he stomped into the room and apparently woke Z’rin up from his drugged sleep. N’mor cringed even as he swiftly made his way to the bedside, dropping to his knees and murmuring questions wrapped up in berating the blue rider. But he was already out of it again. N’mor sighed, and stood up slowly.

The desire to stay constantly by his lover’s side was outweighed by his stubbornness not to be as attached as he clearly was, which meant N’mor recklessly threw himself and Rhezalth into assisting with the efforts against the fire. Ferrying people to and from locations, and barely remembering to eat. He let Rhezalth bathe, washed by excited hold brats under the guidance of weyrlings and weyrbrats; N’mor himself bathed before collapsing into the chair beside Z’rin’s bed. He was out like a light before Rhezalth joined Varralath.

The strange routine repeated, and N’mor was again dead to the world, stretched out as much as he could be on the chair, when Z’rin woke up. Rhezalth debates the pros and cons of waking his rider, in the process allowing Varralath to update Z’rin, before Rhezalth decided the other man wasn’t going to fall unconscious again right away, and gently prodded N’mor awake.

The bronzerider woke with a startled little snort, coughing and brushing his hand over his face as he blinked blearily at the room. Z’rin’s soft words of thanks had N’mor’s heart soaring in relief, before he scowled in irritation, both at his emotions and at Z’rin being thankful. The only thing he should be thankful for was that N’mor hadn’t finished the fires job and killed the idiot for being so reckless!

“Satisfied?” N’mor asked, snarking, standing up quietly and making his way to his lover’s bedside. Despite his acidic tone, his touch was gentle as he brushed away the stray tears and leaned down to press a soft kiss to Z’rin’s temple, surprising himself. “You were a damned fool,” he added, scowling, tone low and fingers gently brushing through Z’rin’s hair.

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Z'rin
of Blue Varralath

Date of Birth
08.10.712, 32
Height
6'2
Eyes
Pale Blue
Build
Fit
Hair
Brown, shaggy

Threads
5
Posts
101

Written By: SunsetWay
#3
Thanks to Varralath’s assistance in jogging his memory, Z’rin recalled more of what happened before getting trapped and didn’t fall victim to the snark and insult as he gave a smug grin, especially since the dragon confirmed it was a happy ending. He nearly sighed with pleasure from the simple touch of fingers through his hair but that could wait. He was being smug at the moment and he wasn’t going to let that go by without comment. “I am,” he replied, clearing his throat again to find a steadier voice. N’mor could take that answer for either one of his statements since it fit, even in Z’rin’s mind. He was a damned fool but he was glad he did what he did and even happier that he made it out in the end.

“I wasn’t being an ordinary everyday fool; this time anyway. It’s not like I thought it was too hot to wear my gear that was keeping me safe,” Z’rin winced as he did his best to move an arm from its resting place up into a position where he could snag the caring fingers in his hair. He couldn’t hold out any longer and needed more contact with the young bronzerider that meant a lot to him. Near death experiences, he realised, really were eye-openers. He still expected their relationship to end on any given day for any given reason but in the few minutes of lucidity since the accident, Z’rin decided to enjoy every moment that little bit more and touch N’mor whenever possible, even if they were in small gestures like holding his hand while injured in a bed.

“I gave my riding jacket to the little girl to wear. She was only in her nightgown, barefoot as well. I was carrying her when it happened.” The husband had pulled his wife out first and had just emerged from the building that was quickly going up in flames and cried out his youngest child was still in there. Z’rin didn’t hesitate and ran in, following the shrieks of a little girl until he found a girl no more than five crying in her bed, holding a well-loved doll. There wasn’t time to think, let alone grab something to bundle her in that wouldn’t catch fire. He whipped off his jacket, wrapped her in it, and carried her almost to the exit before tripping and landing in a way his leg didn’t like.

In the haze of smoke and his panic, he lost the way out, but it didn’t matter when he could barely move now. Still, he remembered holding the girl close to his chest and rolled over her to protect her further when burning chunks of wood fell around them. That’s when the roof, a dresser, or even a tree for all he knew, fell and pinned him. If only he had left his jacket on. If only he had tried to crawl, dragging them both to freedom.

Z’rin shut his eyes, squeezing them tight to keep the tears from falling and the memories to stop coming. “She looked so much like my daughter when she was younger,” he confessed a moment later on a whisper. Would he have left her behind if she didn’t? He liked to think he wouldn’t have.

You wouldn’t have left anyone in danger, no matter who they were or what they looked like. Your kind heart is what made me know you were my life mate. Varralath’s soothing voice worked as intended and Z’rin exhaled slowly and opened his eyes once more, gaze focusing on the hand he held.

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N'mor
of Bronze Rhezalth

Date of Birth
19.03.722, 23
Height
5'11
Eyes
Grey-green
Build
Stocky, Fit
Hair
Reddish Brown

Threads
24
Posts
188

Written By: ThistleProse
#4
N’mor sighed softly at Z’rin’s answer, partly exasperated at his reply, and partly relieved to hear him speak. He’d been unconscious for so long, and while N’mor knew it was what the Healers had been hoping for, it didn’t really help alleviate any of the stress. He had no idea how his friends, family or Rhezalth had stood it when he’d lost his arm. Now, perhaps more than ever, he wondered how it was the day-old bronze dragonet had managed to power through N’mor’s recovery. How had he not gone between and left him alone? He could feel Rhezalth’s gentle reassurance, but even he wasn’t sure how he’d managed it.

A mystery they’d likely never know the answer to, and N’mor could live with that, so long as he had his dragon.

When Z’rin shifted to take his hand, N’mor shifted too, carefully seating himself on the edge of the small bed the bluerider had been assigned, and pressing his hip gently against his lover, as much in need of the reassuring contact as Z’rin, though N’mor was careful to remember where he’d seen the burns that affected Z’rin, so as to avoid hurting the other man. That was the last thing he wanted to do. As Z’rin spoke, N’mor leaned over, pressing his forehead to Z’rin’s temple, and listening in silence as the bluerider spoke quietly.

While N’mor hadn’t really expected an explanation of what had happened, he nonetheless appreciated it. He was glad that Z’rin hadn’t been stupid enough to be running around without his jacket entirely; N’mor would have bene hard pressed to actually believe that Z’rin was that much of an idiot, but, it was good to know for sure that he wasn’t. “Hey,” N’mor said softly, when Z’rin choked on the little girl looking like his daughter, breath soft against Z’rin’s cheek. “You did well,” he promised, lifting his head slightly and puffing out a soft sigh. “I saw the family yesterday. They are all alive and as well as can be. I think they want to see you, when you’re feeling up to it.” The slight pause and the thinning of N’mor’s lips were the only indication that he was feeling protective of the bluerider. But just slightly. It didn’t mean anything.

“You’re lucky you didn’t lose your leg,” He said after a moment of consideration, peering down his nose at Z’rin and lifting his eyebrows in an expression of mock seriousness. “Very unattractive, missing limbs. Definitely would have had to dump you.” Pale eyes sparkled playfully, but N’mor was, none the less, glad that Z’rin’s leg would be fine in time. Learning to live with a missing arm had been incredibly difficult, but at least he could still walk and look after himself with minimal help. How did one get around without a leg? How would he ride his dragon if he couldn’t even climb it, or straddle it? Learning to walk again once it was healed would be enough of a task, N’mor was quite sure!

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Z'rin
of Blue Varralath

Date of Birth
08.10.712, 32
Height
6'2
Eyes
Pale Blue
Build
Fit
Hair
Brown, shaggy

Threads
5
Posts
101

Written By: SunsetWay
#5
Z’rin perked up a bit at hearing the family was doing well. Varralath had already told him they all lived but it was good to have confirmation and an update since his dragon wouldn’t have known if they suffered any damage or what they got up to after being rescued. “When I can breathe without wincing, I’ll be happy to see them, though I think Varralath deserves all the credit.” The big guy had been trying to kick dirt onto the flames to keep them at bay and had ultimately been the one to rescue the last member of their daughter and the foolish rider rushing in and out of a burning building.

At N’mor’s teasing about missing limbs, Z’rin laughed and then hissed with a stab of pain as back muscles moved in a way the burns didn’t agree with. Still, he held onto the smile, happy to be alive, awake, and with someone that had worried about him. He had never been good at receiving compliments and praise so it was a relief that N’mor didn’t give him time to properly respond to how he did well. Z’rin was sure he could have done a lot better and that anyone else wouldn’t have made so many mistakes and would have made it out okay but he wouldn’t dwell on that; at least not right then as he went into his usual mode of making fun of himself.

“I’m glad I didn’t! I was only trying to get out of work, you know, not lose a limb or a bronzerider. Miscalculated a bit on the burns, though. But I got more bed rest out of it so it can’t be all bad.” He was grinning and chuckled softly but it turned into a light cough as all the talking was aggravating his throat. He should ask for water but Z’rin didn’t want N’mor to leave his side yet, even for such a short span of time.

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N'mor
of Bronze Rhezalth

Date of Birth
19.03.722, 23
Height
5'11
Eyes
Grey-green
Build
Stocky, Fit
Hair
Reddish Brown

Threads
24
Posts
188

Written By: ThistleProse
#6
N’mor laughed, deciding not to make a fuss about how Z’rin kept hurting himself by breathing too deeply and obviously aggravating his wounds. Chances were some Healer would overhear N’mor berating him and kick him out, and honestly, he wasn’t ready to leave yet. Instead he squeezed Z’rin’s hand every time the bluerider hissed or froze up in a way that told N’mor he’d hurt himself, and patiently continue the conversation like nothing ha happened.

“Lazy bluerider,” he teased, leaning down to press a kiss to Z’rin’s temple, and then resting his forehead against where he’d dropped the kiss, noticing for the first time how much the bluerider reeked of smoke, and he laughed again. “You need a serious bath,” he grinned, nose scrunching up playfully. “You smell like smoke.” He leaned down again, “I think its mostly stuck in your hair,” he added. Primarily since Z’rin obviously wasn’t wearing his clothing from when he was rescuing wayward children. Then again, who knew how many folks the blankets had been around before they found themselves warming the bluerider.

Carefully detangling his hand from Z’rin’s, N’mor brushed it through the dark hair, laughing softly under his breath when he found sections that were clearly the survivors of fiery attack. “I think you need a haircut!” Threading his fingers through a couple more times, N’mor enjoyed the softness – even if it did reek of fire smoke – before taking Z’rin’s hand once more. “I guess you’ll be staying in Ista for a while,” N’mor said softly, his tone slightly dry. Not that there was much of the Island left, but at least the Weyr and primary Hold hadn’t been damaged! N’mor really didn’t’ want to move again.

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Z'rin
of Blue Varralath

Date of Birth
08.10.712, 32
Height
6'2
Eyes
Pale Blue
Build
Fit
Hair
Brown, shaggy

Threads
5
Posts
101

Written By: SunsetWay
#7
Z'rin just grinned at being called a lazy bluerider. He didn't think N'mor meant it and was only playing off of his own joking around but even if he did, it didn't bother him. Truthfully, they were all pretty lazy with not much to do in the calm turns between Threadfalls. He had a feeling, however, that the lazy days would be coming to an end thanks to the fires showing them all how ill-prepared they were for emergencies. They had to scramble around to make themselves into passable working wings and Z'rin had no doubts that wing practices would definitely be back soon. There had been rumours for a while that they Weyrleaders were considering it but this seemed like the needed kick in the butt.

At the suggestion of a bath, Z'rin was brought out of his musings and a playfulness lit up his face. "A bath, huh? I like where this is going." They had had some wicked times in the bathing rooms in recent times and Z'rin wouldn't mind having more. But since he couldn't even roll over without wanting to black out in pain, he didn't think that would be happening any time soon and sighed. "But I think it'll have to be a disappointing sponge bath for a bit." No doubt they could still get creative and find ways to enjoy it without much energy and movement.

"What, I still have hair that's not falling in my face right now?" Z'rin hadn't even thought about that. He was so used to the bits that liked to fall forward that he didn't consider one way or the other what his head looked like. Once it was pointed out, a part of him wondered if what he could see was all that remained but N'mor was playing with more so he wasn't bald just yet. Maybe he should be, though, if what the bronzerider implied was as bad as he was now conjuring up in his head. He wasn't vain, but he did still like his hair. "I'm afraid to ask. Think it's salvageable with a good trim or should I just shave it all off and--"

Z'rin didn't finish as dragons all over the Weyr started keening. Frightened eyes looked at N'mor, the unspoken thought of who it was they just lost hanging between them. At least he knew it wasn't N'mor. It was shocking how much relief he found in that thought thanks to the man sitting before him. But still, a dragon and possibly human had died and whether or not they were considered a friend, everyone still seemed to know everyone.

Who? He finally asked, having to know but dreading the answer.

Wydrith and her rider Peorray. There was so much sorrow in his dragon's voice that Z'rin wanted to crawl out of bed and curl up with him, injuries be damned! But he stayed where he was and shut his eyes.

"Oh, Faranth..." he choked out, whispering the curse as the news sank in. Not only did they lose a pair, but a gold pair! The only positive was that they had multiple golds now and it didn't spell the end of the dragon population but they were both kind and he'd miss them. Another thought hit him and Z'rin didn't want to know the answer yet, knowing he couldn't handle it right then. Who else may have died while he slept?

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N'mor
of Bronze Rhezalth

Date of Birth
19.03.722, 23
Height
5'11
Eyes
Grey-green
Build
Stocky, Fit
Hair
Reddish Brown

Threads
24
Posts
188

Written By: ThistleProse
#8
Z’rin wasn’t alone in his train of thought; N’mor had heard a lot of whispering between exhausted dragonriders about how much more in synch things would have been, if there had been actual wings in order, rather than the rather muddled up, thrown together combinations that had been put to use. N’mor had found himself in charge of his own small group of individuals, mostly younger riders like himself, and he’d found the challenge both exhilarating and slightly intimidating. He hadn’t thought he couldn’t do it – he did believe in himself, and he brought his whole ‘wing’ out in one piece – but the fact that there had been so many unexpected lives riding on whatever choices he made… well, it had been rather weighty.

N’mor laughed softly again, and shook his head slightly. “I’ll wash your hair for you later.” A sponge bath was probably all Z’rin was going to get for a while, and N’mor wasn’t sure the bluerider would want him doing that! N’mor himself wasn’t particularly worried either way; there was nothing at all sensual about a sponge bath when one was injured, but he also knew it could be – for some – more uncomfortable to be bathed by a Healer than a lover. He was happy to follow Z’rin’s lead, there at least! N’mor’s lips were twitching into a playful smirk and a quip was on the tip of his tongue when the dragons started keening, and his hand reflexively clutched around Z’rin’s, the young bronzerider freezing up in horror.

Most people, when they thought of their Impressions, they had all the warm fuzzy emotions and fluffy emotions that came with the bonding, the flurry of activity that followed… Not N’mor; his own memories of Impression were tarnished by being woken up in the middle of the night by the earth swallowing up his home; of dragons keening, including some of his clutch mates. Of his injury. He didn’t remember much after that, until he was conscious and learning to live with one arm, to make up for the time and bonding he’d missed with his dragon. Rhezalth had never seemed upset by the fact that N’mor hadn’t been able to take care of him in the first weeks after his Hatching, but N’mor harboured a deep sense of guilt and occasionally even felt as though his dragon were more T’ryn’s than his, because his friend (were they still friends?) had done so much for the baby dragon.

Who? N’mor finally demanded of Rhezalth, brushing away his own memories and focusing on the moment. He felt his blood run like ice when the bronze gave his sorrowful response; Rhezalth had always been fond of Wydrith; he’d felt like he could both protect and befriend the gold who was so afraid of the world around her. He’d never indicated as much, really, but N’mor would have been surprised if Rhezalth hadn’t chased her at some point in the future. Alas. N’mor dropped his chin to his chest, closing his eyes and trying to process both his own sorrow at the loss, and the terrible emotions swirling around him from his dragon.

“I should find out what happened,” N’mor said softly, slowly opening his eyes and looking sadly down at Z’rin. Despite his words, he made no motion to move. Did it really matter what had happened? Whether she’d been injured in that moment, or the first day of the fire? Whether it was just the dragon, or both of them? Though he honestly felt it must have been both; Wydrith wouldn’t have gone without her beloved rider. The dragon just wasn’t emotionally strong enough to take that last trip by herself, not from what Rhezalth had told him of her over the Turns.

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Z'rin
of Blue Varralath

Date of Birth
08.10.712, 32
Height
6'2
Eyes
Pale Blue
Build
Fit
Hair
Brown, shaggy

Threads
5
Posts
101

Written By: SunsetWay
#9
"Yeah," Z'rin nodded, only faintly aware that N'mor had spoken. He was too caught up in memories of the gold pair as well as his fears that others had died and he didn't know about them yet. He should ask, but was too afraid to know. He was in pain, not entirely clear of the fellis or whatever it was that had made him sleep, and now he was left reeling from a loss. He couldn't add more to the load and expect to come out okay. He suspected he wouldn't be going too far from the bed he currently occupied for another day or two -- he should probably ask how bad his injuries were before making plans -- so there would be plenty of time to wallow in all sorts of misery and add to it slowly with news of injuries and deaths.

"Wait, no!" His line of thought brought into focus what N'mor had said and that it implied the man would leave him. Z'rin stared with wide, almost panicked eyes as he silently begged the bronzerider not to leave him, not yet. He didn't want to be alone and knew that made him even more pathetic than he looked lying in bed with burns, a broken leg, and apparently singed hair. One could easily call him out on having abandonment issues and he'd partly agree. His parents and family friends had left him on an island alone after all, but for the most part, he never worried about parting ways with a friend at the end of the day. But this was different. N'mor calmed him and brought him comfort; both things he was in need of.

"I mean, yeah, we should know what happened but it can wait. Especially since the facts might not be clear yet and..." Z'rin shut his eyes on a sigh as he measured his own worth and if he had the courage to say it and handle the potential denial. He didn't want to seem needy and clingy and nothing in their relationship had ever shown there was room for such things but if ever there would be an exception to the rule, this seemed like the time. "I don't want you to leave yet. I want to be selfish and keep you here as long as I can." Even if that was only until a Healer came to check on him and send him back to sleep.

"And," he quickly added, thinking to tack on some good reasons for it to lessen the blow of neediness and at the same time give N'mor a way out when he wanted it, "I'm guessing the fires are still going. When do you head out again? Have you eaten? Have you slept? Stay a little longer and rest."

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N'mor
of Bronze Rhezalth

Date of Birth
19.03.722, 23
Height
5'11
Eyes
Grey-green
Build
Stocky, Fit
Hair
Reddish Brown

Threads
24
Posts
188

Written By: ThistleProse
#10
Despite the agreement that seemed to come from Z’rin in such a distracted way, N’mor didn’t make any move to actually leave the bluerider’s side, his hand still holding Z’rin’s, fingers woven together and the young bronzerider’s thumb caressing in a lazy, absent manner as he conversed with Rhezalth in an attempt to find out more information about what had happened to the gold and her rider. It wasn’t going very well; no one seemed to know much and most of the dragons were too busy freaking out – even the usually calm Rhezalth – to actually share information with their demanding riders.

“Huh?” N’mor turned to look down at Z’rin when the bluerider was suddenly making exclamations, pale eyes wide as he tried to figure out what Z’rin was objecting to. The answer came when Z’rin added to his demand, and N’mor tilted his head slightly, blinking again. “I wasn’t going to go anywhere,” N’mor said, bemused, and barely finished getting the words out before Z’rin was almost talking over the top of him. N’mor frowned, his eyebrows drawing together and causing a furrow to appear above his nose.

N’mor sighed and shook his head. “They are, but we’ve been put on rosters. We’re mostly waiting for it to burn itself out and keep it contained to the area its in.” He shrugged; no one had confirmed that, it was just what he figured they were doing. But it also meant he had more time to be with his friend. N’mor continued to frown down at Z’rin for several more moments, his expression somewhat sad. “I’m not going anywhere,” he promised, studying the bluerider carefully. He wasn’t going to abandon him, especially not when he so clearly needed a friend. N’mor didn’t know where he’d be, if he’d been abandoned by his friends when he’d gotten hurt. He certainly wasn’t going to do it to his own.

“Oh!” He said suddenly, carefully shaking his hand free of Z’rin’s. “I have something for you!” Hopping off the bed, N’mor made his way over to his pile of riding leathers, that had been kicked into the corner – he was dressed in someone’s spare cotton shirt and pants, which were too big – and dug around in the pocket of his jacket for a moment. Standing up, he made his way back to the bed and sat carefully back beside Z’rin. “Here. I borrowed Dad’s firelizard to send a letter to your daughter and her mother. Figured they’d like to know you were okay. Your kid wants to see you.” N’mor didn’t know what their relationship was like, but really, kids were fickle at the best of time and N’mor was just glad they didn’t live in the Weyr. He was pretty sure the little girl would have been sleeping in the chair beside him (or on him, who knew?) and driving him insane.

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Z'rin
of Blue Varralath

Date of Birth
08.10.712, 32
Height
6'2
Eyes
Pale Blue
Build
Fit
Hair
Brown, shaggy

Threads
5
Posts
101

Written By: SunsetWay
#11
Z’rin was just relaxing at the confirmation that N’mor wasn’t going anywhere when the bronzerider was suddenly letting go of his hand and running off. Panic didn’t set back in –much—thanks to the words that accompanied the action and N’mor was treated with a confused glance as Z’rin tried to figure out what he could have gotten. He desperately wanted to sit up so he could see properly but another attempt gave him a dizzying reminder as to why he couldn’t do more than gawk when the gift was announced.

N’mor thought about contacting his daughter for him? Z’rin could feel his eyes starting to swim with unshed tears but he couldn’t help it. Not only was someone he cared for not leaving him alone and more or less stranded, he was in that someone’s thoughts enough to consider what he might want or need. It was likely due to having a little sister and N’mor probably thought about her and how she’d react to hearing her brother was injured but it still meant something to the bluerider that was clutching the note tightly. “Thank you,” he croaked, frustrated with the dry throat that was now battling the urge to sob.

“Would you read it to me? It’s a bit difficult from this position,” he gave a crooked half smile as he held the letter back to N’mor. While it was the truth, and he was grateful that it was, Z’rin knew he’d take forever reading the letter even at peak condition. He should probably tell N’mor sooner rather than later that he had trouble reading before a third awkward moment popped up with a letter appearing. “I don’t mind you knowing whatever’s in it, and if you have the time later, we can reply back to her and let her know she can definitely visit soon.”

He watched N’mor carefully to see if such trust and intimacy with a family matter would bother him but before the bronzerider could speak, Z’rin realised the bastard had deftly avoided answering the more important questions that had been tossed at him and he needed to be called out for it; even playfully like the smile he couldn’t quite hold back revealed. “And don’t think I didn’t notice your lack of reply about sleep and eating.”

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N'mor
of Bronze Rhezalth

Date of Birth
19.03.722, 23
Height
5'11
Eyes
Grey-green
Build
Stocky, Fit
Hair
Reddish Brown

Threads
24
Posts
188

Written By: ThistleProse
#12
N’mor smiled softly at Z’rin’s obvious emotions to his announcement of the little girl sending a letter after he had sent one to tell them Z’rin was fine, if injured. He didn’t make any comment, though, as he let the bluerider cling to the note, his own hand going to the back of Z’rin’s neck and massaging gently, lazily content to let the bluerider read the note in his own time. As such, N’mor was slightly surprised when the note we held back out towards him. “Sure,” mild amusement lingered in his tone, and he took the note, carefully unfolding it and spreading it across his knee.

Reading the note in a clear, if low voice, N’mor appreciated the fact that the mother had clearly written it. Her handwriting wasn’t outstanding, but it was legible and much better than N’mor imagined an emotional child’s to be; he couldn’t remember how old the girl was off the top of his head. Somewhere around Amorandii’s age, which was why he’d thought to contact her and her mother. His little sister had just about had hysterics when she’d found out he’d been injured, and according to his father, been all but impossible between learning so, and talking to him once he’d regained consciousness after losing his arm. N’mor liked to imagine she’d have a bit more decorum now, being older, but either way - he did not want to be attacked by an angry pre-teen if Z’rin’s daughter had found out N’mor had had firelizards at his disposal and had not sent her one with Information regarding Z’rin’s health.

Once he’d finished, N’mor paused and carefully folded the letter back up, letting Z’rin have a few moments to gather himself, if he needed it, before N’mor put the letter on the edge of the bluerider’s pillow for him. “We can reply to her later,” it was probably a bit early to be sending firelizards into people’s bedrooms, especially pre-teens. The kid could be an early riser, but chances were that she was not!

With his hand back on Z’rin’s neck, N’mor snorted. “And I have been both sleeping and eating.” Not a lot, granted, but he had eaten the day before and he’d gotten a couple of hours sleep in there, somewhere. A bath would probably be a good idea, but honestly, everything and everyone reeked of smoke, and N’mor had washed his face and hands, so it wasn’t like he looked grimy, even if he had just been giving Z’rin a go for having smokey hair.

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Z'rin
of Blue Varralath

Date of Birth
08.10.712, 32
Height
6'2
Eyes
Pale Blue
Build
Fit
Hair
Brown, shaggy

Threads
5
Posts
101

Written By: SunsetWay
#13
Z'rin wiped at the tears that had escaped while N'mor read the letter. He wasn't always there for his daughter since her mom was fine raising her with whatever amount of effort he put in, but he tried his best. He thought he had had a good childhood when he was a kid and believed at the time he'd always be loved and cared for. Being abandoned --whether they thought he was dead or not never really mattered to his reasoning-- had shattered all of that. When he found out he was going to be a father, Z'rin was terrified. He wanted to be better than his parents had been but he feared he wouldn't be and always gently eased his way into her life. He spent time with her and gave her gifts but the real parenting always came down to her mother. To have his baby girl worry about him and want to see him had been too much. They had entered a slightly rough patch recently where she was getting a sassy mouth with him but he knew she still loved him. The letter confirmed that as well as make him feel guilty for causing her any level of stress and fear.

Grateful that N'mor gave him that moment to compose himself and not comment on it, Z'rin nodded at the idea to reply later and chuckled when his badgering was finally given a response. "I'm glad to hear it but I wonder if we have different definitions of those terms. I imagine you've been given enough time for both but I know you're too kind to sit idle for long before the urge to help returns." It wasn't even the fact that N'mor was a bronzerider and expected to lead and set examples of being a hard worker. Z'rin truly thought the young man was a kind soul --possibly more so than most believed-- and he would want to look after friends that were injured, checking that others ate and slept, and offering to run any other task that might need to be done while he was around. Z'rin liked to believe he'd be the same way and was angry with himself for being hurt to a point where he couldn't even help himself, let alone anyone else.

"Lie down with me. It's not a lot of room but I have a bit more on this side I can scoot to," Z'rin patted the bronzerider-free side of the bed with his hand even as he measured how much space was left. Given what he felt and how much he saw before him, they could make it work. It was just the scooting that might take some time to do as he gave a test run that had him inhaling sharply. "And at least one of us needs more fellis and numbweed or whatever soon." He was doing his best to get through the pain but Z'rin knew he was going to reach his tolerance soon if he kept trying to move and he didn't want N'mor to see him suffering or as a cranky jerk.

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N'mor
of Bronze Rhezalth

Date of Birth
19.03.722, 23
Height
5'11
Eyes
Grey-green
Build
Stocky, Fit
Hair
Reddish Brown

Threads
24
Posts
188

Written By: ThistleProse
#14
“Quite probably,” N’mor drawled, amused. Granted, he had a feeling it was only in regards to one another; if their positions were swapped, N’mor was fairly sure Z’rin would have been no better than himself at staying still. There was too much work to be done, too many people to help, just… too much. Even thinking that had N’mor feeling somewhat twitchy, as if he should be leaving Z’rin to sleep some more and N’mor himself actually do some more work. So it was, the invitation to lie with his lover was met with a blank faced blink.

Sliding off the bed, N’mor bent to place a soft kiss on the corner of Z’rin’s lips as the bluerider tried to shuffle himself across the bed. “Okay,” he said softly, and slipped out of the room. Not long afterwards, he was back with a skin of drink, feeling it would be easier for Z’rin to drink from than an actual cup, and a small jar of numbweed. “The healers are busy,” he said by way of explanation, as he set the wineskin by Z’rin’s pillow so the bluerider could help himself. “Drink that,” he said lightly, “and once it kicks in, I’ll change your bandages and put more numbweed on the burns.”

Watching until Z’rin had drunk all of the fellis, N’mor settled himself down on the bed in the space Z’rin had made for him, and lying on his back, head turned to the right so he could see Z’rin – watch with mild amusement as the drug made the bluerider relaxed and sleepy – his left arm folded over his stomach and hand holding the one the bluerider had offered. N’mor didn’t think he could possibly be comfortable, but then, the poor man was probably so uncomfortable what was a little awkward positioning to hold hands?

N’mor gave the fellis a good thirty minutes to kick in – by which point Z’rin was asleep – before sitting up and sliding off the bed to carefully change the bandages, and apply more numbweed. The sight made him grimace in worry, it looked so nasty, but the Healers seemed content that everything was healing nicely, and N’mor really had no reason to doubt them. Replacing a light cover bandage over Z’rin’s back (the healer had said they’d wash it later and he didn’t want to wake up the bluerider to wrap the wound properly) N’mor slipped back onto the bed and gave an exhausted sigh as he pressed one leg against Z’rin’s, but otherwise left a slight distance between their bodies, not wanting to bump a bruise or burn.

Sleep, Rhezalth said softly; so N’mor did.

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