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!
19.Sep.13, 05:52 PM
Z'ia's amusement was thick on the air as he watched A'liran react to his taunt, the bluerider's eyes sparkling with delight as A'liran barely caught himself before throwing a bodily attack at the tiny bluerider. Teeth shone in a sudden grin as Z'ia laughed, the sound light and musical; anyone who might have heard it from the outside would think the littel bluerider was responding to a joke, a tickle, not that his features were home to an animalistic and predatory expression as he licked his lips at the end of the sound. "Come now, that's not very nice."
The tiny bluerider lifted a hand, fingers dancing lightly over a set of scratch marks drawn on his cheek. Flights with A'liran were dangerous, even when Astoreth was in the best of moods. Aveleth was rarely hurt by the green, which was more than some of her other suitors could say, but Z'ia had yet to come out of an encounter without some visible marring or mark on his person, especially the face. Not that he minded! The last time he'd come out with a black eye, he'd been cooed over by a couple of others while A'liran, whom he had been careful to attack the ribs of, had been given dirty glares by a couple of Z'ia's friends. It was amazing, and the hate filled look Z'ia was the recipient of was even better. He loved the games he played with A'liran, and the way the other man's atittude and reputation did nothing to help him.
"I haven't come near you!" Z'ia spluttered, changing game plans without second thought, his voice indignant and unhappy as he leaned back against the door. He threw a vicious smirk at A'liran, dark green eyes filled with malicious intent. "I can't go anywhere until you let me get my clothes! Not all of us are completely immodest!" Z'ia's tone was huffy, clearly indignat at the idea of running around the Weyr naked, and his gaze flickered around quickly to see where his clothing was splattered. Enough of it was close enough to A'liran to back up his whining if someone decided to investigate. The nasty array of blooming bruises and bloody marks on Z'ia's body from A'liran's nails and teeth would do nothing but make him look like the victim, too. Throwing the greenrider a last smug look, Z'ia then controted his features into a look of grumpy poutiness. "Pants, please!" and he pointed at the item by the other man's feet.
The tiny bluerider lifted a hand, fingers dancing lightly over a set of scratch marks drawn on his cheek. Flights with A'liran were dangerous, even when Astoreth was in the best of moods. Aveleth was rarely hurt by the green, which was more than some of her other suitors could say, but Z'ia had yet to come out of an encounter without some visible marring or mark on his person, especially the face. Not that he minded! The last time he'd come out with a black eye, he'd been cooed over by a couple of others while A'liran, whom he had been careful to attack the ribs of, had been given dirty glares by a couple of Z'ia's friends. It was amazing, and the hate filled look Z'ia was the recipient of was even better. He loved the games he played with A'liran, and the way the other man's atittude and reputation did nothing to help him.
"I haven't come near you!" Z'ia spluttered, changing game plans without second thought, his voice indignant and unhappy as he leaned back against the door. He threw a vicious smirk at A'liran, dark green eyes filled with malicious intent. "I can't go anywhere until you let me get my clothes! Not all of us are completely immodest!" Z'ia's tone was huffy, clearly indignat at the idea of running around the Weyr naked, and his gaze flickered around quickly to see where his clothing was splattered. Enough of it was close enough to A'liran to back up his whining if someone decided to investigate. The nasty array of blooming bruises and bloody marks on Z'ia's body from A'liran's nails and teeth would do nothing but make him look like the victim, too. Throwing the greenrider a last smug look, Z'ia then controted his features into a look of grumpy poutiness. "Pants, please!" and he pointed at the item by the other man's feet.
Unless stated otherwise, Aveleth never speaks to anyone but Z'ia
