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.13, 10:40 AM
He’d put it off for as long as he could, wanting to make sure the green and blue could be included in the lesson as soon as possible. As a compromised, he’d promised to stagger the lesson, allowing all the colours to take their turn mounted upon their dragon that day. The blue, and the green, would be heavily restricted in how long and often they could ride their dragons, but B’jin felt so much better at being able to mount them all up on the same day that he was prepared to monitor the progress of the smaller colours more heavily. Chances were they would have all tried by now if he hadn’t made the browns wait at any rate, something that B’jin knew would have caused massive headaches for himself and Larrikith. So, instead of having to watch all of them for unauthorised dragonriding, B’jin had justified his actions to those that questioned them by pointing out that this way, he only had to watch half a handful of anxious brown-bonded weyrlings. The blue and green wouldn’t try the trick, not while the brown were being denied.
B’jin flinched at the sound of one of the green’s voices whipping through his mind, frowning in her direction with every intention of having Larrikith scold the pompous little creature back into place when Khaduceth beat them both to it, the brown dragonet’s actions making B’jin’s eyes widen as he watched, though he made no comment, settling on shooting the young man as ‘what do you expect?’ look that was riddled with disproval for the boy’s actions when the Weyrling sent an imploring and demanding expression his way.Learn your place! Larrikith snapped privately to the green dragonet and her rider.
When he was convinced the boy was cowed enough, B’jin turned his attention back to Talian, watching as the boy seemed to try and collect himself. A frown furrowed B’jin’s eyebrows slightly – something was wrong with Talian’s stance! – but before the man could focus on what exactly was so wrong with it, Talian was up and over the other side, splattered against the grass like a bird shit. B’jin pursed his lips, but his amusement was as clearly seen as his concern, the greenrider waving at the Weyrlings who were taking far too much enjoyment out of the sight (Larrikith’s mind crashing into that of those at fault of too obvious amusement and bringing them into line, brown, blue and green alike) while B’jin skittered around Khaduceth to peer in at Talian, giggling softly at the boy’s words.
“He’s fine,” B’jin assured Seijin, looking up and smiling reassuringly at the young man before he tilted to peer down at Talian again without getting too close to Khaduceth. “If he was hurt, he’d be barking orders.” A loving dig. “Why don’t you help him back to his feet, Seijin. You seem to have some capacity to understand team work” – the last part was growled out, the Weyrlingmaster’s brown eyes hardening as he spun around to glare at the rest of the class, spine straight and stance hard.
“Funny, is it, when a member of your wing is hurt?” He asked rhetorically, standing before them all with his arms crossed over his chest, eyes pausing to meet each of the young men’s, while their dragons cowered under the private word lashing Larrikith was delivering upon them. “Perhaps you’ll find it funny when a class mate’s dragon gets cramp in their wing, and crashes into the side of a mountain.” A dramatic pause while Larrikith painted an incredibly detailed picture of what that would look like; whether it was fact or fiction was left for the young men to decide. Seijin, Talian and both their young dragons were included in the dramatic image sharing. B’jin threw an arm toward the direction Talian was in, though he didn’t turn to look. “Don’t wait for someone to falter!” B’jin growled, returning his arm to recross with its mate over his chest. He knew many of the class were petty enough to find watching one another fail at the simplistic tasks they currently underwent amusing.
“Be worthy of your dragon! Step up and show us they didn’t make a fucking mistake by picking some petty, worthless little brat with a snivelling nose. There are weyrbred brats that would give their left nut for your dragon. Fucking act like a dragonrider.” Glaring harshly at the young men for a moment, B’jin spun around to face Talian. “Mount up, Tal.” His voice almost startlingly soft after the near should that had previously controlled the Harper’s well trained voice.
B’jin flinched at the sound of one of the green’s voices whipping through his mind, frowning in her direction with every intention of having Larrikith scold the pompous little creature back into place when Khaduceth beat them both to it, the brown dragonet’s actions making B’jin’s eyes widen as he watched, though he made no comment, settling on shooting the young man as ‘what do you expect?’ look that was riddled with disproval for the boy’s actions when the Weyrling sent an imploring and demanding expression his way.
When he was convinced the boy was cowed enough, B’jin turned his attention back to Talian, watching as the boy seemed to try and collect himself. A frown furrowed B’jin’s eyebrows slightly – something was wrong with Talian’s stance! – but before the man could focus on what exactly was so wrong with it, Talian was up and over the other side, splattered against the grass like a bird shit. B’jin pursed his lips, but his amusement was as clearly seen as his concern, the greenrider waving at the Weyrlings who were taking far too much enjoyment out of the sight (Larrikith’s mind crashing into that of those at fault of too obvious amusement and bringing them into line, brown, blue and green alike) while B’jin skittered around Khaduceth to peer in at Talian, giggling softly at the boy’s words.
“He’s fine,” B’jin assured Seijin, looking up and smiling reassuringly at the young man before he tilted to peer down at Talian again without getting too close to Khaduceth. “If he was hurt, he’d be barking orders.” A loving dig. “Why don’t you help him back to his feet, Seijin. You seem to have some capacity to understand team work” – the last part was growled out, the Weyrlingmaster’s brown eyes hardening as he spun around to glare at the rest of the class, spine straight and stance hard.
“Funny, is it, when a member of your wing is hurt?” He asked rhetorically, standing before them all with his arms crossed over his chest, eyes pausing to meet each of the young men’s, while their dragons cowered under the private word lashing Larrikith was delivering upon them. “Perhaps you’ll find it funny when a class mate’s dragon gets cramp in their wing, and crashes into the side of a mountain.” A dramatic pause while Larrikith painted an incredibly detailed picture of what that would look like; whether it was fact or fiction was left for the young men to decide. Seijin, Talian and both their young dragons were included in the dramatic image sharing. B’jin threw an arm toward the direction Talian was in, though he didn’t turn to look. “Don’t wait for someone to falter!” B’jin growled, returning his arm to recross with its mate over his chest. He knew many of the class were petty enough to find watching one another fail at the simplistic tasks they currently underwent amusing.
“Be worthy of your dragon! Step up and show us they didn’t make a fucking mistake by picking some petty, worthless little brat with a snivelling nose. There are weyrbred brats that would give their left nut for your dragon. Fucking act like a dragonrider.” Glaring harshly at the young men for a moment, B’jin spun around to face Talian. “Mount up, Tal.” His voice almost startlingly soft after the near should that had previously controlled the Harper’s well trained voice.
