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.Jul.13, 08:59 AM
Indivara had had a long week, herself, albeit for somewhat different reasons. After leaving Ryvian the day of the Hatching to go and find where her infant was, so she could feed her, the girl had found herself unintentionally avoiding the young man. She was not sure where she stood, and her overactive mind was not quite sure how to process everything that had happened. She did not want to pretend that none of it had happened, but nor did she wish to make more of it than it was. As a result, while she did not avoid Ryvian when she saw him during the first few days that followed, she did not actively seek him out, either. It was less awkward, that way.
Then, of course, Indivara had caught a stomach bug. It had not been anything major, but it had hit the girl hard and she was confined to a bed in the infirmary. Partly, it had been for her own health, but mostly it was so the healers cold make sure Varlea did not get sick and kick the bucket in the process; infant mortality rates were less than ideal, and Katila was certainly no haven for the little mites. Indivara had scoffed at that – this was her flesh and blood, after all, and nothing had killed her yet! Never mind V’ler’s added genetics – but she’d been too sick to actively fight them and besides feeding the child when required, Indivara had spent most of her time curled up miserably around a bucket. Puking was by far her least favourite past time.
She’d been allowed to return home the day before, and as per the usual, none of her friends had visited – Indivara didn’t like being sick, and she certainly didn’t appreciate her friends coming by to pat her on the head and tell her it would all be okay. She’d had more than enough of that during her pregnancy, she didn’t need more of it just because she had a stomach bug. Besides, they would only get themselves sick and while Indivara would have laughed at them for causing their own misery by visiting her while ill, she was not quite cruel enough to actually wish it upon them. Being sick sucked.
Feeding Varlea in the far-too-early hours, Indivara had toppled back into bed only to be woken up an hour or so later when Par’a had come tip toing into the hut, all her efforts to remain quiet betrayed by Grith’s excited babbling; to be fair, the dragon was trying to be quiet, which for Grith, said a lot. Indivara had peered up at the woman from her bed, watching silently as Varlea was gathered up and the woman retreated. Indivara waved at her lazily and went back to sleep for another few hours. She was woken by the combined need to pee and feed a baby, and Indivara had sighed as she decided to face the day. It had been a good day, too!
When she had dressed, literally in a short summer dress of soft blue material that had half-length belled sleeves that stopped just past her elbows, and a neckline that was cut high enough to hide her scars, but low enough to be appealing, Indivara had made her way out to face the day. The dress, which fell to just around mid-thigh, and was gathered at the waist with a darker blue belt, was a gift Kerrin had made her to wear. Since she had ended up in dresses for most of the third part of her pregnancy, apparently the green weyrling had decided she liked them. Indivara would admit that she did not quite hate them, but she was not prepared to say she liked them. The little shorts he had made her to wear under the dresses, that tied at the waist and at her legs to ‘hide what doesn’t need to be shared’ had amused Indivara no end. She found the little things hilarious, and wore them more so she could flick the skirt up and flash Kerrin than because she enjoyed the modesty they provided.
So dressed, the girl had opted to spend the morning with Kerrin (honorifics be damned), and his little green before darting off to feed Varlea. It was, however, the gossip she had been privy to while helping him bathe Ajaaskath, which was the cause of Indivara’s current mission. Apparently, Ryvian had been slowly becoming more and more of a recluse instead of more and more at ease with his brother’s Impression. Had she not been otherwise preoccupied with not dying for the past week, Indivara was quite sure she could have hit him over the head already and fixed the issue. As it was, the girl was in a particularly buoyant mood after dumping her daughter on Par’a once more, and was near skipping as she made her way to Ryvian’s hut.
Making it there, Indivara pushed the door open without knocking, unfazed by the closed curtains – it was the best way to help keep out the midday heat – though her expression scrunched up at the stale smell of the hut as she stepped inside and closed the door. The curtains probably had not been opened at all the past week, judging by the lazy, musty smell of a lived in but unaired hut. Her eyes narrowed, and she considered for a moment throwing open all the windows – in part to be a bitch, and in part because the air needed freshening. In the end, she decided to leave well enough alone. She’d just come back and open them all that evening, and if he didn’t get his lazy arse out of bed and close them before breakfast the next morning, well, then it would be his fault for boiling his brains out.
Indivara slipped quietly through the tiny hut, waving off Blood Sucker and Psh when they popped into existence around her head, and sending them off to annoy Tryst, wherever the little blue was. Indivara paused at the door, pushing it open lightly and frowning in the half-light that was given. It was not difficult to recognise the dead looking lump as Ryvian, and Indivara whispered across the room on soft-soled slippers. She didn’t think he knew she was there, and if he did, he hadn’t opted to acknowledge her. Indivara huffed, rather loudly, and climbed up onto the bed, and then onto Ryvian, perching in the middle of the sulking young man’s back.
With a truly wicked expression of devious delight, Indivara’s fingers dug into Ryvian’s sides, tickling just below his armpits. She was seated well enough to avoid startled kicks from his legs, though the girl was well aware she could be thrown across the bed when he reacted to the attack, she was prepared to deal with that! So long as he didn’t throw her onto the floor – then she’d have to hit him!
Then, of course, Indivara had caught a stomach bug. It had not been anything major, but it had hit the girl hard and she was confined to a bed in the infirmary. Partly, it had been for her own health, but mostly it was so the healers cold make sure Varlea did not get sick and kick the bucket in the process; infant mortality rates were less than ideal, and Katila was certainly no haven for the little mites. Indivara had scoffed at that – this was her flesh and blood, after all, and nothing had killed her yet! Never mind V’ler’s added genetics – but she’d been too sick to actively fight them and besides feeding the child when required, Indivara had spent most of her time curled up miserably around a bucket. Puking was by far her least favourite past time.
She’d been allowed to return home the day before, and as per the usual, none of her friends had visited – Indivara didn’t like being sick, and she certainly didn’t appreciate her friends coming by to pat her on the head and tell her it would all be okay. She’d had more than enough of that during her pregnancy, she didn’t need more of it just because she had a stomach bug. Besides, they would only get themselves sick and while Indivara would have laughed at them for causing their own misery by visiting her while ill, she was not quite cruel enough to actually wish it upon them. Being sick sucked.
Feeding Varlea in the far-too-early hours, Indivara had toppled back into bed only to be woken up an hour or so later when Par’a had come tip toing into the hut, all her efforts to remain quiet betrayed by Grith’s excited babbling; to be fair, the dragon was trying to be quiet, which for Grith, said a lot. Indivara had peered up at the woman from her bed, watching silently as Varlea was gathered up and the woman retreated. Indivara waved at her lazily and went back to sleep for another few hours. She was woken by the combined need to pee and feed a baby, and Indivara had sighed as she decided to face the day. It had been a good day, too!
When she had dressed, literally in a short summer dress of soft blue material that had half-length belled sleeves that stopped just past her elbows, and a neckline that was cut high enough to hide her scars, but low enough to be appealing, Indivara had made her way out to face the day. The dress, which fell to just around mid-thigh, and was gathered at the waist with a darker blue belt, was a gift Kerrin had made her to wear. Since she had ended up in dresses for most of the third part of her pregnancy, apparently the green weyrling had decided she liked them. Indivara would admit that she did not quite hate them, but she was not prepared to say she liked them. The little shorts he had made her to wear under the dresses, that tied at the waist and at her legs to ‘hide what doesn’t need to be shared’ had amused Indivara no end. She found the little things hilarious, and wore them more so she could flick the skirt up and flash Kerrin than because she enjoyed the modesty they provided.
So dressed, the girl had opted to spend the morning with Kerrin (honorifics be damned), and his little green before darting off to feed Varlea. It was, however, the gossip she had been privy to while helping him bathe Ajaaskath, which was the cause of Indivara’s current mission. Apparently, Ryvian had been slowly becoming more and more of a recluse instead of more and more at ease with his brother’s Impression. Had she not been otherwise preoccupied with not dying for the past week, Indivara was quite sure she could have hit him over the head already and fixed the issue. As it was, the girl was in a particularly buoyant mood after dumping her daughter on Par’a once more, and was near skipping as she made her way to Ryvian’s hut.
Making it there, Indivara pushed the door open without knocking, unfazed by the closed curtains – it was the best way to help keep out the midday heat – though her expression scrunched up at the stale smell of the hut as she stepped inside and closed the door. The curtains probably had not been opened at all the past week, judging by the lazy, musty smell of a lived in but unaired hut. Her eyes narrowed, and she considered for a moment throwing open all the windows – in part to be a bitch, and in part because the air needed freshening. In the end, she decided to leave well enough alone. She’d just come back and open them all that evening, and if he didn’t get his lazy arse out of bed and close them before breakfast the next morning, well, then it would be his fault for boiling his brains out.
Indivara slipped quietly through the tiny hut, waving off Blood Sucker and Psh when they popped into existence around her head, and sending them off to annoy Tryst, wherever the little blue was. Indivara paused at the door, pushing it open lightly and frowning in the half-light that was given. It was not difficult to recognise the dead looking lump as Ryvian, and Indivara whispered across the room on soft-soled slippers. She didn’t think he knew she was there, and if he did, he hadn’t opted to acknowledge her. Indivara huffed, rather loudly, and climbed up onto the bed, and then onto Ryvian, perching in the middle of the sulking young man’s back.
With a truly wicked expression of devious delight, Indivara’s fingers dug into Ryvian’s sides, tickling just below his armpits. She was seated well enough to avoid startled kicks from his legs, though the girl was well aware she could be thrown across the bed when he reacted to the attack, she was prepared to deal with that! So long as he didn’t throw her onto the floor – then she’d have to hit him!
