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!
17.Nov.16, 01:43 AM
R’nya’s day had not been going well. First, he’d woken with a pounding headache and no immediate explanation as to where it had come from; it just was. As he was dressing, he realised that the way it ached indicated he was apparently allergic to something flowering which of course would have to be the vase of pretty flowers Rhaedalyn had picked for him the day previous. Fantastic. He could hardly throw the flowers out – wouldn’t even consider it and the insult it would be to Rhaedalyn – which meant he would be suffering headaches for the next several days. Even more wonderful.
As he was making his way across the weyr to greet Xyreith, he tripped on a small wooden doll that one of the girls had clearly left on the floor and he hadn’t managed to pick up, stumbled several steps, and proceeded to kick the corner of a wall as he passed, startling him with the sudden pain enough for R’nya to curse loudly, hopping into Xyreith’s side of the weyr and collapsing against his bronze dragon, grumbling and cursing to himself under his breath while the great beast tried not to laugh at his misfortune; bastard.
Breakfast had R’nya spilling klah on himself when he was bumped into by an antsy green, the proddy young man giving R’nya a nasty look for being in his way before he realised he was sassing out the Weyrleader, who gave him duties of cleaning the privies. Most of the other riders took that as an indication to steer clear of the Weyrleader and his bad mood.
Unfortunately, not everyone got the message.
On his way down to his office after changing his shirt, R’nya instead found himself occupied with a pair of younger blueriders, who had apparently gotten into a scuffle over something or another of such unimportance in the scheme of things that neither man could remember what had sparked the argume0nt. The only thing they recalled was how angry they were at each other, and that anger was still sparking even as R’nya paced irritably between them. When neither of them were prepared to own up to starting the argument, R’nya sent them both off to clean privies, each on different levels of the Weyr.
Slamming his office door, R’nya was more than prepared to spend the next several hours alone; unfortunately those several hours were used up by various individuals of the Weyr coming in and demanding his Leadership Skills[sup]TM[/sup]; including, but not limited to, things that were not under R’nya’s umbrella of required tasks. Some he sent off to bother Rhaedalyn, while others he shuffled off to go and find D’hys. Some he actually managed to make cry.
Sir? Xyreith’s interruption caused R’nya to growl out loud, startling the young man who was just leaving his office into scuttling out even faster. Sir!
“Not now, Xyreith!” R’nya snarled, slamming some paperwork into a draw for later perusal – it was nothing overly important to anyone but the damned Headwoman anyway – before running his hands through his hair, which was rather static-y from such a disastrous day. He was about ready to start bashing his head against the hard wood of his desk. As if to remind him of his headache, his head throbbed at the temples, and R’nya groaned in distraught exhaustion.
Sir! Xyreith’s voice was a husky growl, and R’nya straightened in his chair, eyes widening as the implications of what Xyreith was saying finally hit home. Dissi!
Without waiting for further comments from his dragon, R’nya flew out of his chair, and across his office. He flung the door open and quite literally barged through what looked like D’hys holding a Weyrling by the upper arm (R’nya didn’t bother to stop and take note, though the distinct sound of laughter followed him) and down the hall, communicating with his dragon just enough to know that Rhaedlayn was in her own weyr, and given the time of day, R’nya was quite sure the girls would be in crèche.
To say the bronzerider barged in would be rather an understatement. He shoved his way through the few fellow bronzeriders who were making an attempt at capturing Aradissicath (one of them definitely would be sporting a black eye, later) but R’nya paid them no heed as he followed his dragon to victory and claimed Rhaedalyn as his own, slamming her weyr door in the face of the other riders.
+ ~ + ~ +
R’nya came back to his own lazily, unwilling to give up the warm comfort that he was currently at home in; his arms were wrapped gently around Rhaedalyn as he held her close to his own body, her long hair seeming to be everywhere. R’nya wasn’t worried, though, as he leaned forward to kiss her lightly on the cheek, weaving his fingers between Rhaedalyn’s own and holding her hand gently. Considering how the day had lead up to that moment, R’nya was rather shocked Xyreith had won Aradissicath (Your faith in me is astounding, Sir ), and he half expected the current circumstances to blow up into an argument (though he couldn’t think of anything they would argue about).
Smiling slightly, R’nya snuggled closer to Rhaedalyn.
As he was making his way across the weyr to greet Xyreith, he tripped on a small wooden doll that one of the girls had clearly left on the floor and he hadn’t managed to pick up, stumbled several steps, and proceeded to kick the corner of a wall as he passed, startling him with the sudden pain enough for R’nya to curse loudly, hopping into Xyreith’s side of the weyr and collapsing against his bronze dragon, grumbling and cursing to himself under his breath while the great beast tried not to laugh at his misfortune; bastard.
Breakfast had R’nya spilling klah on himself when he was bumped into by an antsy green, the proddy young man giving R’nya a nasty look for being in his way before he realised he was sassing out the Weyrleader, who gave him duties of cleaning the privies. Most of the other riders took that as an indication to steer clear of the Weyrleader and his bad mood.
Unfortunately, not everyone got the message.
On his way down to his office after changing his shirt, R’nya instead found himself occupied with a pair of younger blueriders, who had apparently gotten into a scuffle over something or another of such unimportance in the scheme of things that neither man could remember what had sparked the argume0nt. The only thing they recalled was how angry they were at each other, and that anger was still sparking even as R’nya paced irritably between them. When neither of them were prepared to own up to starting the argument, R’nya sent them both off to clean privies, each on different levels of the Weyr.
Slamming his office door, R’nya was more than prepared to spend the next several hours alone; unfortunately those several hours were used up by various individuals of the Weyr coming in and demanding his Leadership Skills[sup]TM[/sup]; including, but not limited to, things that were not under R’nya’s umbrella of required tasks. Some he sent off to bother Rhaedalyn, while others he shuffled off to go and find D’hys. Some he actually managed to make cry.
“Not now, Xyreith!” R’nya snarled, slamming some paperwork into a draw for later perusal – it was nothing overly important to anyone but the damned Headwoman anyway – before running his hands through his hair, which was rather static-y from such a disastrous day. He was about ready to start bashing his head against the hard wood of his desk. As if to remind him of his headache, his head throbbed at the temples, and R’nya groaned in distraught exhaustion.
Without waiting for further comments from his dragon, R’nya flew out of his chair, and across his office. He flung the door open and quite literally barged through what looked like D’hys holding a Weyrling by the upper arm (R’nya didn’t bother to stop and take note, though the distinct sound of laughter followed him) and down the hall, communicating with his dragon just enough to know that Rhaedlayn was in her own weyr, and given the time of day, R’nya was quite sure the girls would be in crèche.
To say the bronzerider barged in would be rather an understatement. He shoved his way through the few fellow bronzeriders who were making an attempt at capturing Aradissicath (one of them definitely would be sporting a black eye, later) but R’nya paid them no heed as he followed his dragon to victory and claimed Rhaedalyn as his own, slamming her weyr door in the face of the other riders.
+ ~ + ~ +
R’nya came back to his own lazily, unwilling to give up the warm comfort that he was currently at home in; his arms were wrapped gently around Rhaedalyn as he held her close to his own body, her long hair seeming to be everywhere. R’nya wasn’t worried, though, as he leaned forward to kiss her lightly on the cheek, weaving his fingers between Rhaedalyn’s own and holding her hand gently. Considering how the day had lead up to that moment, R’nya was rather shocked Xyreith had won Aradissicath (
Smiling slightly, R’nya snuggled closer to Rhaedalyn.
