04.Mar.12, 08:07 AM
Don't. Larrikith muttered, but her voice went to Ronarth, not B'jin. Her tone was light, but carried a level of warning within it. You'll make it worse. True to what the green dragon was saying, instead of heeding Ronarth's warning, the man seemed to take it as a cheer to do further damage; and he charged right in without a care in the world.
"Help you how?" B'jin purred lowly. While his eyes burned a furious fire at being manhandled, he made no move to stop his Weyrleader, and instead came onto him, figuring that would be a far better way to get his personal space back than to convert to physical confrontation that struggling would bring about. B'jin was not particularly good at breaking noses, and was liable to end up far messier after a brawl than his partner. "But aren't we greens best known for our wicked mouths?" He crooned softly, before D'ren released him and he toppled back into his seat. A wicked smirk converted his face, the expression sensual and naughty in a way B'jin would never have dreamed of aiming at D'ren; except the greenrider knew it would get him what he wanted, which was nothing in line with what he was appearing to offer. His eyes still burned furiously, and if D'ren were able to look past the immediate mask, he'd be able to see exactly how outraged B'jin was at being thrown around like a rag doll by someone he respected and admired. He got that plenty from the blue and brownriders, without having someone like D'ren added to the fray. Just because B'jin was small enough to toss around, didn't mean everyone could go open season on him!
Then he had the gall to go at him about control! B'jin's expression altered again, this time becoming a sneer of disgust as he stood up forcefully, knocking his chair over backwards in the heated movement. "Control? Control!" He was hissing between his teeth and glaring at D'ren, his face reddening with outrage. "How dare you!" B'jin smashed both hands down on the table, swore vilely, and then spun on D'ren again, advancing on the more heavily built man in a wild fury. He stopped inches from the other, faces level. If looks were capable of sending people between, D'ren probably would have been lost forever.
"How dare you!" B'jin snarled the three words between his teeth, beyond furious as he shook with rage and lost all ability to articulate his wild fury at having his control of Larrikith called into question. D'ren had no idea what it was like, dealing with her! B'jin hissed between his teeth, the slur he'd been going to voice against Ronarth's lack of intelligence compared to Larrikith's squished by the green dragon in question before it could fully form. Don't go there, she whispered, and B'jin obeyed, though the look he shot D'ren spoke volumes. Just because his dragon was smart enough to function on her own steam!
"Whatever," B'jin snarled, spinning away from D'ren and very seriously thinking about kicking the chair he'd sent flying earlier; Larrikith reminded him he had bare feet before he'd done more than alter his balance, and instead, the man swept it up and slammed it down, promptly seating himself in it. Brown eyes settled on D'ren, burning, lips twitching as he refraining from snarling with obvious effort, and he crossed his shaking arms across his heaving chest, breathing heavily through his nose. Where are you? his tone was clipped as he contacted the green dragon, but her own was mild when she responded. Watching your brat. Come here, he commanded, not bothering to articulate his desire to fly somewhere, anywhere far from this situation, as soon as he could escape the room. Shall I get my leathers? Don't bother. Maybe D'ren would get lucky and B'jin would fall off and Larrikith would go between and all the Weyrleader's problems would be solved.
The greenrider sneered, disgust contorting his face.
"Help you how?" B'jin purred lowly. While his eyes burned a furious fire at being manhandled, he made no move to stop his Weyrleader, and instead came onto him, figuring that would be a far better way to get his personal space back than to convert to physical confrontation that struggling would bring about. B'jin was not particularly good at breaking noses, and was liable to end up far messier after a brawl than his partner. "But aren't we greens best known for our wicked mouths?" He crooned softly, before D'ren released him and he toppled back into his seat. A wicked smirk converted his face, the expression sensual and naughty in a way B'jin would never have dreamed of aiming at D'ren; except the greenrider knew it would get him what he wanted, which was nothing in line with what he was appearing to offer. His eyes still burned furiously, and if D'ren were able to look past the immediate mask, he'd be able to see exactly how outraged B'jin was at being thrown around like a rag doll by someone he respected and admired. He got that plenty from the blue and brownriders, without having someone like D'ren added to the fray. Just because B'jin was small enough to toss around, didn't mean everyone could go open season on him!
Then he had the gall to go at him about control! B'jin's expression altered again, this time becoming a sneer of disgust as he stood up forcefully, knocking his chair over backwards in the heated movement. "Control? Control!" He was hissing between his teeth and glaring at D'ren, his face reddening with outrage. "How dare you!" B'jin smashed both hands down on the table, swore vilely, and then spun on D'ren again, advancing on the more heavily built man in a wild fury. He stopped inches from the other, faces level. If looks were capable of sending people between, D'ren probably would have been lost forever.
"How dare you!" B'jin snarled the three words between his teeth, beyond furious as he shook with rage and lost all ability to articulate his wild fury at having his control of Larrikith called into question. D'ren had no idea what it was like, dealing with her! B'jin hissed between his teeth, the slur he'd been going to voice against Ronarth's lack of intelligence compared to Larrikith's squished by the green dragon in question before it could fully form. Don't go there, she whispered, and B'jin obeyed, though the look he shot D'ren spoke volumes. Just because his dragon was smart enough to function on her own steam!
"Whatever," B'jin snarled, spinning away from D'ren and very seriously thinking about kicking the chair he'd sent flying earlier; Larrikith reminded him he had bare feet before he'd done more than alter his balance, and instead, the man swept it up and slammed it down, promptly seating himself in it. Brown eyes settled on D'ren, burning, lips twitching as he refraining from snarling with obvious effort, and he crossed his shaking arms across his heaving chest, breathing heavily through his nose. Where are you? his tone was clipped as he contacted the green dragon, but her own was mild when she responded. Watching your brat. Come here, he commanded, not bothering to articulate his desire to fly somewhere, anywhere far from this situation, as soon as he could escape the room. Shall I get my leathers? Don't bother. Maybe D'ren would get lucky and B'jin would fall off and Larrikith would go between and all the Weyrleader's problems would be solved.
The greenrider sneered, disgust contorting his face.