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!
14.Jan.13, 09:39 PM
“You wish,” Z’ia drawled in response, not so much as fluttering an eyelash as D’hys’ proceeded to strip down to nothing. An eyebrow arched and a meaningful look was given to the clothing on the floor, only for Z’ia’s green gaze to find D’hys’ arse when he lifted his eyes one more. Irritation and amusement warred for a place on his features, and his voice was droll when he spoke again. “And pick up your fucking clothes.” Z’ia had standards, and dirty clothing spread out all over the living room weren’t upholding them. The only time clothing should be spread out all over the place was when it was removed in the heat of the moment. Since D’hys’ were not, they had no reason to be left like a slob on his floor!
Z’ia hummed, not willing to commit either way as D’hys insisted he’d like to stay the night. The tiny bluerider wasn’t really surprised, nor did he have any particular issues. If he were honest, however, he have preferred to spend the night alone. He had things to think about, and he was worried. Those weren’t think he felt were particular topics to be discussed, even had D’hys’ been the type of person that invested in such things. Instead, Z’ia rose lazily from his seat and made his way after D’hys; he kicked the taller blueriders clothes into a shabby pile as he passed them, before making himself comfortable on a bench top near where D’hys was. “You missed a spot,” he drawled lazily, pointing at his intended spot. Green eyes sparkled playfully, but it was quite clear Z’ia’s attention was scattered at best.
Plague gave a squeaky cheap, and Z’ia banished her to the dragons with a wave of his hand, swatting her away much like a fly. Touching gently on Aveleth found the young dragon trembling but cuddled securely against Zeianth, the warmth and protection of the older dragon doing much to reassure his poor, trembling wreck of a dragon. He’d been surprised – and yet not – by how deeply Aveleth was rattled. Z’ia was willing to bet that was why he was still feeling so out of whack and lacklustre; the alcohol may or may not have been contributing. Letting his dragon tumble into a trembling and distinctly peace-devoid sleep, Z’ia recognised a night of impending nightmares.
“C’mon,” he chirped, forcing his persona into a more usual Z’ia-range, and throwing a devious look at D’hys over his shoulder as he bounced toward his bedroom. Maybe a good tumble would bar out the nightmares; and, well, if not... that was D’hys’ issue and he could cope with whatever bruises he was issued by flailing limbs. While his nightmares weren’t overly common, Z’ia could return a time or two he’d been shaken awake after decking the other man in his sleep. At least D’hys didn’t ask him about them.
Z’ia hummed, not willing to commit either way as D’hys insisted he’d like to stay the night. The tiny bluerider wasn’t really surprised, nor did he have any particular issues. If he were honest, however, he have preferred to spend the night alone. He had things to think about, and he was worried. Those weren’t think he felt were particular topics to be discussed, even had D’hys’ been the type of person that invested in such things. Instead, Z’ia rose lazily from his seat and made his way after D’hys; he kicked the taller blueriders clothes into a shabby pile as he passed them, before making himself comfortable on a bench top near where D’hys was. “You missed a spot,” he drawled lazily, pointing at his intended spot. Green eyes sparkled playfully, but it was quite clear Z’ia’s attention was scattered at best.
Plague gave a squeaky cheap, and Z’ia banished her to the dragons with a wave of his hand, swatting her away much like a fly. Touching gently on Aveleth found the young dragon trembling but cuddled securely against Zeianth, the warmth and protection of the older dragon doing much to reassure his poor, trembling wreck of a dragon. He’d been surprised – and yet not – by how deeply Aveleth was rattled. Z’ia was willing to bet that was why he was still feeling so out of whack and lacklustre; the alcohol may or may not have been contributing. Letting his dragon tumble into a trembling and distinctly peace-devoid sleep, Z’ia recognised a night of impending nightmares.
“C’mon,” he chirped, forcing his persona into a more usual Z’ia-range, and throwing a devious look at D’hys over his shoulder as he bounced toward his bedroom. Maybe a good tumble would bar out the nightmares; and, well, if not... that was D’hys’ issue and he could cope with whatever bruises he was issued by flailing limbs. While his nightmares weren’t overly common, Z’ia could return a time or two he’d been shaken awake after decking the other man in his sleep. At least D’hys didn’t ask him about them.
Unless stated otherwise, Aveleth never speaks to anyone but Z'ia
