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!
07.Mar.13, 11:51 AM
As Oahvakeen rushed off to retrieve his bucket and rake, he hadn't heard his new friend's remark and compliment, and when he'd returned, he'd gotten back to work. His mouth had a propensity to long to keep on going, it wasn't every day that there was someone so happy to listen to his ramblings about life and the world. Talking to other men always felt soothing, like being stroked in the direction of the grain or fur, but talking to other women always felt like being stroked against the direction, awkward, unnatural, and full of hidden traps and dangers. Women were dangerous creatures, always ready to pounce on something as little as a syllable, make it into a big fuss, and disregard the context and bigger picture. Men didn't do that, and hardly seemed to care, usually half-listening.
When he had mentioned a weyrmate, his friend seemed to have some sort of spasm in his brain. Oahvakeen took a glance and his noticed red cheeks, nervous demeanor, and squiggled lines in the sand. He put things together and looked at his own lines. Of course, Isscer must be nervous and flustered because his lines were so straight. How could he be so careless as to show off and make his new friend seem so inferiour? He made a conscious effort to fudge his lines and make them more shaky - wavy, even. When they got to be too wavy, he paused, lifted his rake, flipped it over, and then wiped over the surface of the sand with the flat top and sides of the rake, erasing the lines. Next, he flipped the rake again, back to its correct holding posture, and continued on his way creating less-than-average lines, on purpose.
"A weyrmate is like a significant other who lives with you. You get your own barrack just for the two of you. It make sense, you wouldn't want other people in your room while you visited together, nor would they want to be there. But mostly I just hoped that everyone would be so taken with gossip... you know how everyone likes gossip... that they'd just kind of forget. I thought I could skip more hatchings and say 'Oh, we were fighting.' or 'Oh, she is having a hard time getting pregnant so we had to try careful timing'. Of course, I'm not sure I'd want a pregnant Weyrmate. The before-math is fun, but pregnancy? Man, might as well be trying to marry a wild dragon who hates you and doesn't need to chew stone to breathe fire. ", he explained what a weyrmate was, assuming that the man didn't know, since he seemed to grow quiet.
"Oh....", he responded slowly when Isscer admitted knowing little about the opposite gender.
"Baubles... jewelry... Ah, not really, I don't. There's always been girls around, gossipin', and cookin', and stuff like that.", he meditated on Isscer's words for a little while, before responding to the rest.
"HEY! I could make that stuff! I'm a metalcrafter. You're a farmcrafter, you say? I would look suspicious if I went outside the Weyr too often, like I was trying to run away, so what if you bring me colorful stones from outside? Like rubies and emeralds and things? I could pretty it all up and make jewelry and we could try to get ourselves weyrmates. Ever since I was stolen, I try to stay in the limelight, away from the gossip, so maybe this will help everyone forget about dragons and give me excuses and things. ", his little speech made some sense in some areas, but little sense in others. How was a farmcrafter going to just find precious gems laying on the ground, let alone in fields that were probably tilled and rock-picked already? And wouldn't obtaining a weyrmate make him more of a subject for gossip, not less?
When he had mentioned a weyrmate, his friend seemed to have some sort of spasm in his brain. Oahvakeen took a glance and his noticed red cheeks, nervous demeanor, and squiggled lines in the sand. He put things together and looked at his own lines. Of course, Isscer must be nervous and flustered because his lines were so straight. How could he be so careless as to show off and make his new friend seem so inferiour? He made a conscious effort to fudge his lines and make them more shaky - wavy, even. When they got to be too wavy, he paused, lifted his rake, flipped it over, and then wiped over the surface of the sand with the flat top and sides of the rake, erasing the lines. Next, he flipped the rake again, back to its correct holding posture, and continued on his way creating less-than-average lines, on purpose.
"A weyrmate is like a significant other who lives with you. You get your own barrack just for the two of you. It make sense, you wouldn't want other people in your room while you visited together, nor would they want to be there. But mostly I just hoped that everyone would be so taken with gossip... you know how everyone likes gossip... that they'd just kind of forget. I thought I could skip more hatchings and say 'Oh, we were fighting.' or 'Oh, she is having a hard time getting pregnant so we had to try careful timing'. Of course, I'm not sure I'd want a pregnant Weyrmate. The before-math is fun, but pregnancy? Man, might as well be trying to marry a wild dragon who hates you and doesn't need to chew stone to breathe fire. ", he explained what a weyrmate was, assuming that the man didn't know, since he seemed to grow quiet.
"Oh....", he responded slowly when Isscer admitted knowing little about the opposite gender.
"Baubles... jewelry... Ah, not really, I don't. There's always been girls around, gossipin', and cookin', and stuff like that.", he meditated on Isscer's words for a little while, before responding to the rest.
"HEY! I could make that stuff! I'm a metalcrafter. You're a farmcrafter, you say? I would look suspicious if I went outside the Weyr too often, like I was trying to run away, so what if you bring me colorful stones from outside? Like rubies and emeralds and things? I could pretty it all up and make jewelry and we could try to get ourselves weyrmates. Ever since I was stolen, I try to stay in the limelight, away from the gossip, so maybe this will help everyone forget about dragons and give me excuses and things. ", his little speech made some sense in some areas, but little sense in others. How was a farmcrafter going to just find precious gems laying on the ground, let alone in fields that were probably tilled and rock-picked already? And wouldn't obtaining a weyrmate make him more of a subject for gossip, not less?
