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!
12.Feb.14, 12:02 AM
She supposed, in all actuality, she had been lucky; she had managed to sleep through the entire mess of the landslide the morning prior, and she had not really lost very many friends. Of course, when you could count the people you considered a friend on one hand, it did not really leave that many for the statistics to wipe away. Instead, what remained of her family had been snatched away. Indivara had only realised early that morning – waking with a shout from a nightmare and clobbering V’ler across the face – that losing them left her an orphan.
Varlea was still alive, for which Indivara had been surprisingly grateful; it would have been just her luck that losing the brat would have her right to Stand revoked. The woman that had adopted the child had looked both disgusted and relieved and Indivara had given a dry laugh at that. Losing her family did not mean she was going to be suddenly interested in hoarding the infant. She had absolutely no desire to change shitty bums or be covered in baby sick. Indivara had had more than enough of that during the month she had been forced to keep the little brat.
Despite all that, Indivara still felt decidedly lost. Sleeping through the entire ordeal had left her out of the loop, and she was still struggling to find her footing, to understand. Why had it even happened? Granted, the unusual rain – and the sheer quantity of it – had been the obvious cause, but the question why? still pounded through her head with every step she took across the messy, muddy grounds. Even the areas not slaughtered by the mountain side were churned up, grass long gone in favour of harried footsteps and dancing dragons.
Barely seeing where she was going, her mind far away, it took Indivara several moments to realise that the obstacle that was slowly advancing was the still form of a dragon. She blinked, clearing her gaze and focusing on the now; Aradissicath. Indivara paused, and in that pause, saw Rhaedalyn throw herself at the golden creature and begin crying. Was that all goldriders did? Cry? Indivara’s nose scrunched up and she sighed. She should probably be more accommodating – after all, every time you thought of a name, chances were the bastard was dead – but still! Whining little bitch had not lost her life, or her dragon, or any of her firelizards… Indivara’s fingers crept up to her left shoulder where Saph was, tail wrapped around her neck like a dark blue chain.
Pursing her lips, Indivara crept closer to the pair, ignoring Aradissicath regally with the same disdain she gave all the gold dragons; it was probably a better attitude to have towards them than the familiar, snippy friendship she shared with Krypth. Indivara had not yet pieced together that Krypth would be the next weyrwoman – probably would not for quite a while – but it would certainly be something she would take note of in the future. Probably something many people would take note of sooner rather than later. Indivara herself would be no happier about such a young weyrwoman than would anyone else, but at least she had some familiarity with Krypth and, in a manner, manipulative power over Jada. The fun she would have!
In the meantime, pursed lips and narrowed eyes studied the back of Rhaedalyn, and Indivara’s nose scrunched up as she reached a talking-distance behind the girl, though perhaps a little closer than necessary. The hissing firelizards were ignored just as Aradissicath was, though Queenie popped out of between to hiss viciously back at them, little body puffed up indignantly. Indivara hushed her by enticing her onto her empty shoulder, though her gaze never left Rhaedalyn. Eyebrows arched slightly as the woman wiped away tears.
“You know,” Indivara’s voice broke through in a bored droll, “I didn’t quite mean that short.” It was clear the girl was talking about Rhaedalyn’s hair, as she stood before her. Indivara’s hands were on her hips, and a frown was furrowing her brows. Dark blue eyes were rimmed in the same sleepless and I’ve-been-crying red that everyone else’s was; a new fashion statement, probably, though not one Indivara would ever admit to falling into, however reluctantly. “Can’t do what?” She asked, tone brisk.
Varlea was still alive, for which Indivara had been surprisingly grateful; it would have been just her luck that losing the brat would have her right to Stand revoked. The woman that had adopted the child had looked both disgusted and relieved and Indivara had given a dry laugh at that. Losing her family did not mean she was going to be suddenly interested in hoarding the infant. She had absolutely no desire to change shitty bums or be covered in baby sick. Indivara had had more than enough of that during the month she had been forced to keep the little brat.
Despite all that, Indivara still felt decidedly lost. Sleeping through the entire ordeal had left her out of the loop, and she was still struggling to find her footing, to understand. Why had it even happened? Granted, the unusual rain – and the sheer quantity of it – had been the obvious cause, but the question why? still pounded through her head with every step she took across the messy, muddy grounds. Even the areas not slaughtered by the mountain side were churned up, grass long gone in favour of harried footsteps and dancing dragons.
Barely seeing where she was going, her mind far away, it took Indivara several moments to realise that the obstacle that was slowly advancing was the still form of a dragon. She blinked, clearing her gaze and focusing on the now; Aradissicath. Indivara paused, and in that pause, saw Rhaedalyn throw herself at the golden creature and begin crying. Was that all goldriders did? Cry? Indivara’s nose scrunched up and she sighed. She should probably be more accommodating – after all, every time you thought of a name, chances were the bastard was dead – but still! Whining little bitch had not lost her life, or her dragon, or any of her firelizards… Indivara’s fingers crept up to her left shoulder where Saph was, tail wrapped around her neck like a dark blue chain.
Pursing her lips, Indivara crept closer to the pair, ignoring Aradissicath regally with the same disdain she gave all the gold dragons; it was probably a better attitude to have towards them than the familiar, snippy friendship she shared with Krypth. Indivara had not yet pieced together that Krypth would be the next weyrwoman – probably would not for quite a while – but it would certainly be something she would take note of in the future. Probably something many people would take note of sooner rather than later. Indivara herself would be no happier about such a young weyrwoman than would anyone else, but at least she had some familiarity with Krypth and, in a manner, manipulative power over Jada. The fun she would have!
In the meantime, pursed lips and narrowed eyes studied the back of Rhaedalyn, and Indivara’s nose scrunched up as she reached a talking-distance behind the girl, though perhaps a little closer than necessary. The hissing firelizards were ignored just as Aradissicath was, though Queenie popped out of between to hiss viciously back at them, little body puffed up indignantly. Indivara hushed her by enticing her onto her empty shoulder, though her gaze never left Rhaedalyn. Eyebrows arched slightly as the woman wiped away tears.
“You know,” Indivara’s voice broke through in a bored droll, “I didn’t quite mean that short.” It was clear the girl was talking about Rhaedalyn’s hair, as she stood before her. Indivara’s hands were on her hips, and a frown was furrowing her brows. Dark blue eyes were rimmed in the same sleepless and I’ve-been-crying red that everyone else’s was; a new fashion statement, probably, though not one Indivara would ever admit to falling into, however reluctantly. “Can’t do what?” She asked, tone brisk.
