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!
23.Aug.13, 10:39 PM
The look S'cer shot Z'jan was nothing short of scathing; he didn't mind criticism provided it was actually useful, and if it had been about soil condition or even about how to find a way to ease Quelseth's infernal itching he might have taken it better. As it was, he huffed a dry laugh, mouth thinning as he pressed his lips together, biting back what he wanted to say.
But at the comment about everyone being their own thing, S'cer couldn't help himself. He shook his head, and very nearly asked Z'jan if he was crack-brained or otherwise just plain stupid. Everyone came from somewhere, didn't they? Else what was the purpose of families, even, as a way of identifying oneself? Thankfully S'cer managed to keep that thought to himself, simply because he didn't see the point in dithering over something so silly.
His eyebrows hiked up to nearly meet his hairline, a rosy blush beginning to spread up his neck and over his face as well as down his chest. For a brief moment S'cer gaped at Z'jan, surprised that someone would be so blunt (other than A'liran, but that was only because S'cer expected it of him). And then he laughed, though it sounded strangled to his own ears, embarrassed in part by Z'jan's frankness and partially because he was right. He hadn't ever considered that side of what Impressing green meant, and it was still somewhat scandalous though he'd had Turns to acclimate to the idea.
"I suppose you're right," he admitted after he managed to close his mouth, shooting Z'jan a small, tentative smile. S'cer had to count his lucky stars that Z'jan was not a bronzerider, or really anything other than a greenrider; he highly doubted anyone else would be so quick to let him get away with such churlish behavior. "I, uh, apologize for that," S'cer began after a long moment, taking the time to catch Z'jan's eye--something he typically avoided, for eye contact meant investment in a conversation. "It's a touchy subject still, even after six Turns."
Embarrassed by his own behavior and feeling like he had to make it up to Z'jan somehow, S'cer shot an appraising look at his fellow weyrling. Slightly shorter, though no less thin, Z'jan appeared to have the good fortune to tan instead of burn--something that S'cer envied, being cursed with too many freckles and too pale of skin. "I think you missed a spot," he pointed out matter-of-factly, trying to be helpful now that he was being mindful of playing nice, and moved closer. "Right here." Two fingers were tapped between Z'jan's shoulder blades, drawing back after a moment. "Shall I?"
But at the comment about everyone being their own thing, S'cer couldn't help himself. He shook his head, and very nearly asked Z'jan if he was crack-brained or otherwise just plain stupid. Everyone came from somewhere, didn't they? Else what was the purpose of families, even, as a way of identifying oneself? Thankfully S'cer managed to keep that thought to himself, simply because he didn't see the point in dithering over something so silly.
His eyebrows hiked up to nearly meet his hairline, a rosy blush beginning to spread up his neck and over his face as well as down his chest. For a brief moment S'cer gaped at Z'jan, surprised that someone would be so blunt (other than A'liran, but that was only because S'cer expected it of him). And then he laughed, though it sounded strangled to his own ears, embarrassed in part by Z'jan's frankness and partially because he was right. He hadn't ever considered that side of what Impressing green meant, and it was still somewhat scandalous though he'd had Turns to acclimate to the idea.
"I suppose you're right," he admitted after he managed to close his mouth, shooting Z'jan a small, tentative smile. S'cer had to count his lucky stars that Z'jan was not a bronzerider, or really anything other than a greenrider; he highly doubted anyone else would be so quick to let him get away with such churlish behavior. "I, uh, apologize for that," S'cer began after a long moment, taking the time to catch Z'jan's eye--something he typically avoided, for eye contact meant investment in a conversation. "It's a touchy subject still, even after six Turns."
Embarrassed by his own behavior and feeling like he had to make it up to Z'jan somehow, S'cer shot an appraising look at his fellow weyrling. Slightly shorter, though no less thin, Z'jan appeared to have the good fortune to tan instead of burn--something that S'cer envied, being cursed with too many freckles and too pale of skin. "I think you missed a spot," he pointed out matter-of-factly, trying to be helpful now that he was being mindful of playing nice, and moved closer. "Right here." Two fingers were tapped between Z'jan's shoulder blades, drawing back after a moment. "Shall I?"
