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!
24.Dec.12, 01:29 PM
The eleventh had had the day spent making sure the Weyrling Barracks were prepared for the upcoming Weyrlings. B’jin wasn’t sure when they were due, but between Jada and Krypth’s combined attitudes, and that insanely smug expression living on Indivara’s face, B’jin was pretty sure it wouldn’t be too far away. The eleven rooms for the kids had been cleaned out by kitchen workers, while B’jin had focused on the room he’d be spending the next turn in. That hadn’t been something B’jin had been pleased to realise. He was particularly fond of his hut! It was his (even if it didn’t come with the DO NOT ENTER that it once had). In the end, he’d chosen the room furthest from the eleven that were being tidied up for young Weyrlings, and set about making it nice. He’d had to bribe a couple of fellow greenriders into helping him move his bed in, and after a lot of whining and bitching with Larrikith, decided to move out of his hut, and into the room permanently. If he got his way, he’d spend what time he could in R’nd’s bed at any rate, and when he was done training the class he could have a new hut built when they built their own – one with separate bedrooms for the children, and maybe a room just for drawing in.
Not wanting to spend the night alone in the Weyrling Barracks – he’d be spending far too much time in there by himself in the upcoming months, thank you, B’jin had invited himself to R’nd’s, getting Larrikith to check in to make sure he wasn’t otherwise occupied with other company before he got into sight of the hut, and greeted Ayyonth as he let himself in. Exhausted, anxious and grumpy about the prospect of a permanent babysitting lifestyle coming up, B’jin had slunk up to R’nd and draped himself over his lover, wrapping his arms around R’nd’s waist and grumbling muffled words that weren’t really meant to be heard or understood into his back, between the shoulder blades. Lifting his head with a sulky pout, B’jin had kissed R’nd lightly on the back of his neck.
That, naturally, had led to mood uplifting activities that had the greenrider tangled with his lover, a variety of blankets, and half a pillow when the humming of dragons penetrated his thick skull, the greenrider whining as he cuddled closer to R’nd and pretended it wasn’t morning. It couldn’t possibly be morning! They’d only just decided to sleep, right? B’jin groaned unhappily as Larrikith insisted he wake up and get up and hurry up! Brown eyes fluttered open to meet his lover’s less than enthralled gaze. “Fucking dragons,” B’jin hissed, fingers tracing over R’nd’s waist. The touch and gentle, but the movements were jerky and B’jin rolled his eyes and sat up irritably as Larrikith tapped her nose against the bedroom window.
“Faranth! I’m up. Fuck me.” While B’jin wasn’t generally a swearer, and that particular phrase was not a common occurrence upon his tongue, the greenrider grumbled and huffed and swore as he stalked around the room, “fucking dragons, fucking hatchings, fucking nagging women.” The last was said with a filthy glare at the window he knew Larrikith was outside of, since she was tapping against the glass with her claws as she irritated the two men (mostly B’jin) into action. “I’m coming!” and B’jin threw a pair of rolled socks at the window, smirking when Larrikith gave a squeak of surprise and interrupted her humming. Tugging on a jacket, B’jin’s gaze sought out R’nd, and he approached the bluerider quietly.
A gentle kiss was given, brown eyes dark with annoyance, but his expression was dry. “Stand with me?” He really didn’t want to have to greet Talian with a dragonet on his own, and his worry was clear. Despite his intent to convince both himself and the young man that he wouldn’t Impress, B’jin knew he shared the same insistent worry that he would. It was terribly worrying, and the only colour B’jin anticipated Talian not having a hell of a life bonded to was a bronze… and would Tyrrisath grant him that? B’jin highly doubted he’d put any faith in that dragon to sire anything worthy of Impressing Talian! Kissing R’nd again, B’jin stepped back and took a deep breath, his expression pained as he turned and lead the way to what felt far more like his execution than his lashing ever had.
Get the Candidates together. Make sure they’re all here. I really can’t be bothered chasing them down. Tell them to control their lizards or leave them in their rooms. I want to see candidate robes when I get there. Is anyone missing? Good. Tell them to move in, they don’t need to wait for me they should know what to do. Oh, tell the stupid little – thank you. The mental conversation went on with Larrikith the duration of the short flight to get to the Sands, B’jin wondering exactly how intelligent the one candidate was. Browns flying blues, and now asking stupid questions B’jin knew he’d answered in lessons. He really hoped the kid didn’t Impress. He’d probably end up lost between and B’jin really didn’t need that on his conscience.
While some ‘Masters were inclined to send their crop on barefoot, B’jin had very little inclination to have half a class of Weyrlings with blisters on their feet from hot sands. The entire class had been told to wear whatever shoes they’d be most comfortable in, and all hair long enough to be tied out of the way, was to so be done. Jewellery was to be removed and left in their rooms or with parents, and all of them had been fitted with their sack-with-arm-hole’s candidate robes. Reaching the Sands and sliding off Larrikith, B’jin gazed around at the group, making sure everyone was there and set Larrikith on to the task of making sure there was enough meat for the eleven hungry little stomachs that were about to come barging over.
B’jin crossed his arms over his chest, frowning irritably as he watched the eggs rock, while Larrikith thoroughly enjoyed herself abusing Weyrfolk and making sure the required tasks were done to her satisfaction. The green did take a moment, however, to brush on the edge of Talian’s mind, with a gentle whisper of ‘good luck’, though she wasn’t sure what angle that ‘luck’ should come from, she was sure Talian would make the most of it.
The first egg will crack shell in approximately 24-36 RL hours. Give or take.
