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!
26.Jan.12, 01:06 AM
The darkness was suffocating. It was pressing down, pressing in, pressing up. It was wrapped around him, and grasping with icy cold fingers. It was drawing his breath out, and swallowing it, refusing to relieve him with a new one, a fresh one. B'jin gasped, and shuddered. Lifting his left hand, the rider took a deep swallow of the harsh Katilan brew. It almost burned on its way down his throat, but the man, so far into his cups he was drowning in the night light, didn't notice.
His eyes, usually so warm and inviting, were cold and shadowed. Smile lines, worked so deeply into his face, surrounding his mouth while crows feet called his eyes home were unworked. A frown pulled the corner of his lips down, and his eyes were shining with the sheen of tears. Tears, drying like the river in the midsummer sun, slowly trekked their way down his cheeks. He didn't brush at them, but left them. They were itchy, but he didn't notice. The salty water would make it to his lips to mix and mingle with the beer he coarsely swallowed. Oblivious.
In his mind, B'jin could hear the harsh, heavy, crash of the storm. He could feel the shuddering terrified breaths as they filled his chest. Worse, he could feel the horror radiating from Larrikith as the dragon - so young back then! - fought to keep them above the waves, but low from the storm; She couldn't risk going any higher! Lightning was not a friend to dragons. The clouds were low, bringing the danger closer to them. They had tried, once, to get through them and above the storm, like others had tried. Some had made it. Some, they had not. B'jin shuddered as he recalled the sound of that dragon's blood curdling scream as lightning coursed through her body. A fellow green, younger, perhaps five or six. B'jin choked, coughed and spilled beer across his knee. Still, however, he was oblivious as the memories of the past attacked him, relentless.
His name, it had been spoken! B'jin! But not out loud, no, but in his mind. The tone, usually warm and soft was nothing like that of his Larrikith. No, it was his sister's Namndith. His baby sister, the little girl he had promised to look after - not to anyone out loud, but to himself, in his heart - the little girl that had idolised him and followed him into Harper Craft, and then, onto the sands to find herself a green. So pretty, so sweet, so innocent. The perfect little sister, with the perfect green. Bigger than Larrikith by several feet, and a much cleaner colour of green, with pretty little flecks of dark forest across her chest... Her voice, warm summer sunshine in the middle of a ocean storm. B'jin turned, and in reality, he echoed the movement. Though the eyes that looked over his shoulder saw nothing in reality, within the depths of his drunken mind, B'jin could clearly see the larger - younger! - green struggling, struggling to stay adrift. Upon her, his sister clung, her face pinched with fear but also determined. Before her, in her lap, her youngest daughter was hugging on of Namndith's spikes, while behind her, M'ram's elder daughter clung to her mother. Even from the distance, B'jin could tell the girl's young fists were ice-white, terrified, cold. He sobbed, even as he caught his sister's eye. He, too, was terrified. Behind him, he felt Nemall nuzzle into his neck, reassuring, his arms strong around his chest. Larrikith gasped out a croon.
Focus for me, B'jin Larrikith's soft voice entered his mind, and B'jin turned forward once more. Before him, Larrikith stood, her draconic expression frightened as her eyes whirled at high speeds. She hated it when B'jin got into these waking nightmares. It was bad enough when he remembered when he was sleeping. Larrikith knew she wasn't helping much, as she relayed the same four words now, as she did That Day. B'jin sobbed once more, the sound harsh and grating in the man's throat. His hand wobbled as he raised his drink once more to his lips. A huge swallow was taken. His hand dropped away, and the cup tumbled to the ground and rolled away. Nothing was spilled, as it revealed itself to be empty.
"M'ram!" - the word, said in memory, said in reality, was a heart rendering cry as B'jin flung himself onto Larrikith's waiting head, clinging to the dragon as he broke down and cried like a child, with great heaving gasps and sobs, tears flooding the green dragon's features as her eyes spun so rapidly they almost appeared to be still, the colours changing just as fast as she attempted to reassure both herself and her stressed rider, bonded, love, life.
"L-l-l-larry!" Sobbing, B'jin clung tighter, his well manicured fingers digging into the dragon's soft face, and she froze for a split second before relaxing into the tight, needing, grasp. B'jin didn't notice, but Larrikith knew he wouldn't - he never did, but that was alright. Larrikith remembered every one of B'jin's break downs, about this very same memory. She didn't know the specifics of why she remembered them - it had something to do with fear, and love - but she did. Every single one, and each one wound out in the same manner.
Taking a deep breath in, Larrikith measured her breathing, and in so doing, coaxed B'jin to do the same. He started hiccuping, and she breathed warm, gusty breath over him. It smelled like meat and the lavender oil he painted around her nostrils to taint her breath, and because she so liked the scent and wished to carry it with her, always. B'jin took another shuddering breath in, and slowly straightened up, his eyes wide and red and raw. His cheeks looked less like a river had traced them, and more like a tsunami. Larrikith nuzzled him gently, blowing warm breath on him.
Come sleep, love, she crooned softly, and nudged the dazed man gently. He stumbled, losing his grip on the green lifeboat he had been cligning to, and for a moment, he was lost - drowning! - before Larrikith again brought her face close, her eyes reassuring as she carefully licked the man's cheek. B'jin rubbed his cheek on his shoulder, and unsteadily climbed on board Larrikith. Shivering visibly, he wrapped his fingers, his arms, his soul, around Larrikith's neck ridges and allowed the green dragon to carry him home.
Instead of flying, Larrikith carefully went around the outskirts of the Gather, her walk almost graceful, in the careful way she managed it, wings half spread like a weyrling and steps swaying.
I thought it'd be nice to show some of B'jin's less playful nature.
Yay for solo posts =)
His eyes, usually so warm and inviting, were cold and shadowed. Smile lines, worked so deeply into his face, surrounding his mouth while crows feet called his eyes home were unworked. A frown pulled the corner of his lips down, and his eyes were shining with the sheen of tears. Tears, drying like the river in the midsummer sun, slowly trekked their way down his cheeks. He didn't brush at them, but left them. They were itchy, but he didn't notice. The salty water would make it to his lips to mix and mingle with the beer he coarsely swallowed. Oblivious.
In his mind, B'jin could hear the harsh, heavy, crash of the storm. He could feel the shuddering terrified breaths as they filled his chest. Worse, he could feel the horror radiating from Larrikith as the dragon - so young back then! - fought to keep them above the waves, but low from the storm; She couldn't risk going any higher! Lightning was not a friend to dragons. The clouds were low, bringing the danger closer to them. They had tried, once, to get through them and above the storm, like others had tried. Some had made it. Some, they had not. B'jin shuddered as he recalled the sound of that dragon's blood curdling scream as lightning coursed through her body. A fellow green, younger, perhaps five or six. B'jin choked, coughed and spilled beer across his knee. Still, however, he was oblivious as the memories of the past attacked him, relentless.
His name, it had been spoken! B'jin! But not out loud, no, but in his mind. The tone, usually warm and soft was nothing like that of his Larrikith. No, it was his sister's Namndith. His baby sister, the little girl he had promised to look after - not to anyone out loud, but to himself, in his heart - the little girl that had idolised him and followed him into Harper Craft, and then, onto the sands to find herself a green. So pretty, so sweet, so innocent. The perfect little sister, with the perfect green. Bigger than Larrikith by several feet, and a much cleaner colour of green, with pretty little flecks of dark forest across her chest... Her voice, warm summer sunshine in the middle of a ocean storm. B'jin turned, and in reality, he echoed the movement. Though the eyes that looked over his shoulder saw nothing in reality, within the depths of his drunken mind, B'jin could clearly see the larger - younger! - green struggling, struggling to stay adrift. Upon her, his sister clung, her face pinched with fear but also determined. Before her, in her lap, her youngest daughter was hugging on of Namndith's spikes, while behind her, M'ram's elder daughter clung to her mother. Even from the distance, B'jin could tell the girl's young fists were ice-white, terrified, cold. He sobbed, even as he caught his sister's eye. He, too, was terrified. Behind him, he felt Nemall nuzzle into his neck, reassuring, his arms strong around his chest. Larrikith gasped out a croon.
Focus for me, B'jin Larrikith's soft voice entered his mind, and B'jin turned forward once more. Before him, Larrikith stood, her draconic expression frightened as her eyes whirled at high speeds. She hated it when B'jin got into these waking nightmares. It was bad enough when he remembered when he was sleeping. Larrikith knew she wasn't helping much, as she relayed the same four words now, as she did That Day. B'jin sobbed once more, the sound harsh and grating in the man's throat. His hand wobbled as he raised his drink once more to his lips. A huge swallow was taken. His hand dropped away, and the cup tumbled to the ground and rolled away. Nothing was spilled, as it revealed itself to be empty.
"M'ram!" - the word, said in memory, said in reality, was a heart rendering cry as B'jin flung himself onto Larrikith's waiting head, clinging to the dragon as he broke down and cried like a child, with great heaving gasps and sobs, tears flooding the green dragon's features as her eyes spun so rapidly they almost appeared to be still, the colours changing just as fast as she attempted to reassure both herself and her stressed rider, bonded, love, life.
"L-l-l-larry!" Sobbing, B'jin clung tighter, his well manicured fingers digging into the dragon's soft face, and she froze for a split second before relaxing into the tight, needing, grasp. B'jin didn't notice, but Larrikith knew he wouldn't - he never did, but that was alright. Larrikith remembered every one of B'jin's break downs, about this very same memory. She didn't know the specifics of why she remembered them - it had something to do with fear, and love - but she did. Every single one, and each one wound out in the same manner.
Taking a deep breath in, Larrikith measured her breathing, and in so doing, coaxed B'jin to do the same. He started hiccuping, and she breathed warm, gusty breath over him. It smelled like meat and the lavender oil he painted around her nostrils to taint her breath, and because she so liked the scent and wished to carry it with her, always. B'jin took another shuddering breath in, and slowly straightened up, his eyes wide and red and raw. His cheeks looked less like a river had traced them, and more like a tsunami. Larrikith nuzzled him gently, blowing warm breath on him.
Come sleep, love, she crooned softly, and nudged the dazed man gently. He stumbled, losing his grip on the green lifeboat he had been cligning to, and for a moment, he was lost - drowning! - before Larrikith again brought her face close, her eyes reassuring as she carefully licked the man's cheek. B'jin rubbed his cheek on his shoulder, and unsteadily climbed on board Larrikith. Shivering visibly, he wrapped his fingers, his arms, his soul, around Larrikith's neck ridges and allowed the green dragon to carry him home.
Instead of flying, Larrikith carefully went around the outskirts of the Gather, her walk almost graceful, in the careful way she managed it, wings half spread like a weyrling and steps swaying.
I thought it'd be nice to show some of B'jin's less playful nature.
Yay for solo posts =)
