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!
27.Mar.13, 01:38 AM
T'rielle had a brief moment where he had to resist the urge to stick his tongue out at I'shan like he was ten Turns old again. He would give the statement token defiance, but this wasn't a particularly rare occurrence. He had a fairly childish outlook on life--forgiveness was something that he had in spades, though his relatively thick hide didn't go to waste, either. He tended to take things for granted--like Caxith's mostly impeccable choice of Flight partners to date, for one.
He heard tales, everyone did, and while he wasn't the type to lay blame where it was unwarranted, he was well aware of the hierarchy within the Weyr and the opinions (also known as colourism) that went with it. Taking it in stride was part and parcel, in T'rielle's mind, though he didn't fault those who felt otherwise. He had never really had a heart to heart with another greenrider--his attention span, not to mention his personality in general, typically didn't do too well at getting people to open up about sensitive subjects--but gossip ran like wildfire in the Weyr, and most stories had a grain of truth to them.
"Oh, shove off," he muttered good-naturedly, flapping a hand at I'shan's finger without much hope or intent of actually making contact with the digit. He grinned at I'shan's antics and gave serious consideration to ducking himself in anticipation until the bluerider came down off his toes (which presumably meant that the coast was clear). He'd been at the receiving end of that woman's throwing arm more than once, and was always keen to avoid getting there again if he could help it. Not, of course, that he didn't bring these things on himself in the first place.
"I'm--okay!" He certainly wasn't going to argue (or get his arm ripped out of the socket, at the rate I'shan took off). He scrambled a bit to catch up, managing not to fall flat on his face (which had happened before). This, at least, was treatment he didn't mind--hell, if he did, he would have been happy to call himself a hypocrite as other people had a tendency to react too slowly for his liking and it wasn't like he was going to drag them off a cliff or into a lake (okay, he'd done the latter before, but at least he went in too, right?).
"Scandal? Me? No!" He grinned--didn't even try not to--and carded a hand through his hair in a very misguided attempt to tame it, which never actually worked. Caxith picked that moment to make a comment about the uselessness of the action, which went more or less ignored. "And my flights are always sexy, thanks."
He heard tales, everyone did, and while he wasn't the type to lay blame where it was unwarranted, he was well aware of the hierarchy within the Weyr and the opinions (also known as colourism) that went with it. Taking it in stride was part and parcel, in T'rielle's mind, though he didn't fault those who felt otherwise. He had never really had a heart to heart with another greenrider--his attention span, not to mention his personality in general, typically didn't do too well at getting people to open up about sensitive subjects--but gossip ran like wildfire in the Weyr, and most stories had a grain of truth to them.
"Oh, shove off," he muttered good-naturedly, flapping a hand at I'shan's finger without much hope or intent of actually making contact with the digit. He grinned at I'shan's antics and gave serious consideration to ducking himself in anticipation until the bluerider came down off his toes (which presumably meant that the coast was clear). He'd been at the receiving end of that woman's throwing arm more than once, and was always keen to avoid getting there again if he could help it. Not, of course, that he didn't bring these things on himself in the first place.
"I'm--okay!" He certainly wasn't going to argue (or get his arm ripped out of the socket, at the rate I'shan took off). He scrambled a bit to catch up, managing not to fall flat on his face (which had happened before). This, at least, was treatment he didn't mind--hell, if he did, he would have been happy to call himself a hypocrite as other people had a tendency to react too slowly for his liking and it wasn't like he was going to drag them off a cliff or into a lake (okay, he'd done the latter before, but at least he went in too, right?).
"Scandal? Me? No!" He grinned--didn't even try not to--and carded a hand through his hair in a very misguided attempt to tame it, which never actually worked. Caxith picked that moment to make a comment about the uselessness of the action, which went more or less ignored. "And my flights are always sexy, thanks."
