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!
20.Feb.20, 09:39 AM
The date of Transfer was creeping closer, something that alternated between causing Casa delight, and crippling anxiety. She was sure she was going to be a spectacular failure, but was doing her best to bury that fear and live up to the expectations of everyone – except M’ris, since he wasn’t exactly subtle about his lack of faith in her – and crush this Weyrwoman gig. Of course, as far as everyone was concerned, she was just going to be a pretty figure head, anyway. Which Casa had been training with Azrin to negate; she needed her Weyrleader to appear to be Mr. In Charge, but receptive enough to listen to whatever she mentioned. They’d worked hard (she and Azrin, that was) to narrow down their choices. Which in turn had resulted in her having to play a careful hand of cards to get one of her top three picked for Weyrleadership by the current Weyrleadership. Casa wasn’t sure how well that part of Azrin’s plan would go, but he had seemed pleased with the final announcement.
Technically, Azrin wasn’t well ranked enough in Ista to have been invited to the meeting the current Weyrleaders had held, wherein the Hold and Hall had met Casa and her new partner in crime. Casa, though, had done her part to get him invited. Partly, it was because she didn’t want him to murder someone in revenge for the slight of not being invited, and partly it was because it could be – and was – easily explained as his being her primary mentor in all things Istan. Casa had great respect for Azrin, but she was also very aware how dangerous he was. Possibly more aware than he realised she was, which she felt might be its own danger, really. Casa puffed out a little sigh, and made her way towards the coffee shop they’d agreed to meet at.
While not late, Casa was by no means early, either; she had spent the morning in the Hold, floating around between shops and stalls, buying things she legitimately needed, and more than a few things she didn’t. All of her purchases had been paid for, with a tip given for the delivery to be made to her dragon in the case of things that were ready that day, and to be delivered to the Weyr in the case of things that wouldn’t be ready for either hours or days. Possibly weeks, given some of her purchases, but Casa didn’t care either way. She was a goldrider – and proudly displaying her knots on her shoulder – and knew no one would mess with her purchases. Not when the dragonriders could so very easily travel the length of the planet to get their purchases elsewhere. Something Casa had heard more than one dragonrider mention in order to get a better price. Since she herself had nothing better to spend her marks on, Casa didn’t care how much money she threw around, and while she had made a point of being overly generous, she’d also been quick to spin away and shun a market stall or store that thought to take advantage of her. It wouldn’t take long for word to spread, she knew, and Casa planned to reap the benefits of that.
Entering the small shop, one of the small outlying buildings that had little tables outside and a few inside, Casa looked around curiously and ignored the looks she was receiving. She knew she cut an impressive figure, with her soft hide pants that were both comfortable and fitting (but not quite to T’ryn levels) and her white shirt with a fitted vest that matched her pants buttoned over the top. Calf high boots with a low heel clicked as she made her way over to talk to the owners, smiling warmly at them and easily falling into idle chitchat with them. She felt Azrin arrive without having to turn and see him walk in, but shifted to give him a friendly smile when he stopped beside her. “My lord,” she said cordially, and then beamed at the wife when she brought Casa a hot chocolate, steam wafting off the top and smelling divine.
Technically, Azrin wasn’t well ranked enough in Ista to have been invited to the meeting the current Weyrleaders had held, wherein the Hold and Hall had met Casa and her new partner in crime. Casa, though, had done her part to get him invited. Partly, it was because she didn’t want him to murder someone in revenge for the slight of not being invited, and partly it was because it could be – and was – easily explained as his being her primary mentor in all things Istan. Casa had great respect for Azrin, but she was also very aware how dangerous he was. Possibly more aware than he realised she was, which she felt might be its own danger, really. Casa puffed out a little sigh, and made her way towards the coffee shop they’d agreed to meet at.
While not late, Casa was by no means early, either; she had spent the morning in the Hold, floating around between shops and stalls, buying things she legitimately needed, and more than a few things she didn’t. All of her purchases had been paid for, with a tip given for the delivery to be made to her dragon in the case of things that were ready that day, and to be delivered to the Weyr in the case of things that wouldn’t be ready for either hours or days. Possibly weeks, given some of her purchases, but Casa didn’t care either way. She was a goldrider – and proudly displaying her knots on her shoulder – and knew no one would mess with her purchases. Not when the dragonriders could so very easily travel the length of the planet to get their purchases elsewhere. Something Casa had heard more than one dragonrider mention in order to get a better price. Since she herself had nothing better to spend her marks on, Casa didn’t care how much money she threw around, and while she had made a point of being overly generous, she’d also been quick to spin away and shun a market stall or store that thought to take advantage of her. It wouldn’t take long for word to spread, she knew, and Casa planned to reap the benefits of that.
Entering the small shop, one of the small outlying buildings that had little tables outside and a few inside, Casa looked around curiously and ignored the looks she was receiving. She knew she cut an impressive figure, with her soft hide pants that were both comfortable and fitting (but not quite to T’ryn levels) and her white shirt with a fitted vest that matched her pants buttoned over the top. Calf high boots with a low heel clicked as she made her way over to talk to the owners, smiling warmly at them and easily falling into idle chitchat with them. She felt Azrin arrive without having to turn and see him walk in, but shifted to give him a friendly smile when he stopped beside her. “My lord,” she said cordially, and then beamed at the wife when she brought Casa a hot chocolate, steam wafting off the top and smelling divine.
