World of Pern
Latest Updates

2023/08/04 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!
2023/01/07 Welcome to the New Year! We are now ELEVEN years old! Thank you, all of you, for your love and writing! I am looking forward to spending another year with youall! In addition, a new Default colour scheme is in progress and will hopefully be available soon! All my love! ThistleProse
2022/07/29 Gold Malvayth and Bronze Xyxyth clutch is Hatching! Come and join the shenannigans 743.08.03 | NIGHT STALKERS HATCHING and bring the popcorn!
2022/05/11 Gold Malvayth has Flown, caught by Bronze Xyxyth of A'tay. Their Hatching will be PC, and take place in Telgar in August around the 20-22nd! Update your Candidate Applications and prepare for some fun!
2022/04/21 New default layout! I hope you enjoy it! If you find any bugs, please report them in the discord #bug-squishing channel!
05/JUL It’s Hatching time!! Come take part in the shenanigans here
30/JUN Gold Thallyath of Ista Weyr has laid a clutch! More information here
27/JUN A bluerider, and then a greenrider, are found dead. More information here
25/JUN The Touching is up! Take part here
30/MAY After the Touching, many Candidates found themselves preyed upon in the form of their food. More information here
18/MAY Another goldrider - Ameris of Benden - is attacked. More information here
05/MAY Multiple individuals are attacked whilest out of the Weyr! More information here
04/MAY Take a chance OOC and guess who you think the murderer is! You can win prizes! More information here
03/MAY Goldrider Cazan and her twin brother Cazelarias are attacked. More information here
24/APR Goldrider Ashara of Fort is murdered by two brownriders. More information here
12/APR Searchrider B’jin was attacked at Telgar Weyr, surffering a slash to his throat. While in Benden, bluerider B’dor is found dead in his weyr. More info here
05/APRMore attacks occurred today. More information here
03/APRMultiple individuals found their death this day; more information here and here
28/MAR Tragedy has struck again! Across all the Weyrs, multiple people - primarily dragonriders - have fallen ill after eating muffins. There have been multiple deaths, and others are in criticle condition. More information here
24/MAR Weyrwoman Ameris and her son, Rislan, poisoned! More information here
18/MAR Benden’s Weyrleader M’ris and his children have been poisoned! Resulting in sickness and death. More information here
18/MAROn 18.03.742 Bronzerider A’dris of Vyaniorth was found dead in his personal bathing pool. He appears to have drowned after drinking an excess of alcohol. Afterwards it was realized that Machiya of Gold Cameth from Telgar Weyr had disappeared. Having never arrived at her destination, it is suspected she had an accident between.
11/MAR Gold Racoth of Donmaline went between taking Bronze Beruth of T’rel with her shortly after she had been caught, due to T’rel strangling Donmaline. He did not survive. more info
25/FEB Congratulations and thank-you to Guest for taking on a moderator role! <3
14/FEB Stars Above PC Hatching Link
06/JAN :o new layout is a WiP. Please report bugs in Discord.
01/JAN Merry Christmas, and Happy New Year!




Currently: Spring 03.745 al
Monthly Event
2024-February
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Welcome to the Month of Lovetm! This month's Monthly Event is all about Romance, whether it is asking someone out on a date, or getting sweaty between the sheets! Anything and everything counts, if it even looks sideways like it could be related to Valentine Day -- including lover's spats, or breaking up, Flights Wins (or Flight Losses!). Honestly, this month has a huge opportunity for interpertation, so go wild!



2023-December
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Ahh, the fresh snow, the crisp air, the naked trees... welcome to Winter! Or, just the Colder Months for those in the more Northern Weyrs, while Ista is just... not as hot. But it is time to enjoy the end of the Turn, so folks should get together, spend some time gossiping, and drinking Hot Chocolate (alcohol and marshmallows opional)... does Pern even have marshmallows????? (they do now!)



2023-November
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Feel like bitching? Wanna take part in a brawl? Or bet on someone? Take part in Brawls and Bitching this month! Boo-yeah!



2023-October
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Thistle flunked this month; You can still post until the end of November as a result <3
Experience, tell or hide from a Spooky Story!



2023-September
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The flu is running rampant, colds are clogging noses, and someone might have lost a limb?



2023-August
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Partake this month by going fishing... or anything that occurs while fishing, or dealing with fish!



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Fresh Flowers [Sanderon]

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Written By: ZZZ Deceased
#1
Aparicus was a person of habit, though whether she developed this after arriving at the Weyr or if it had been bred into her back at the cothold, she couldn’t really say.  Either way, habits are always difficult to break.  So it was, after she had refreshed the vases of flowers on each table of the Weyrhall, she had a few small bouquets left – one for her own room and then a handful for the small rooms of the healer’s hall.

If she was not such a creature of habit, she might have hesitated gathering their fresh flowers for the rest of the Seven-day, maybe even two, just to make sure she avoided any reminder of what had happened three days prior – that public lashing.  She had so carefully avoided seeing any of it and had spent the last two days keeping her mind carefully busy with her routine so she wouldn’t think of the nightmares such violence would bring. 

She was so careful avoiding the thought of the lashing, that when her routine brought her to the Infimary, faces use to seeing her change the flowers smiled at her in warm welcome and let her continue her habits of bringing beauty to the Weyr.  In fact, it was quiet enough that afternoon that they even forgot to warn her that one room of the Healer’s Hall was occupied with the very subject she was trying so carefully to avoid.

Opening the door and stepping in with just two small bundles of flowers left, she had manged to close the door and even move to the Vase on the small table there before realizing that the room was not empty.  A soft gasp left her lips as Aparicus jumped in surprise, dropping her two bundles of flowers to scatter on the floor around her feet even as she pushed herself back against the wall to make sure there was as much space as possible between herself and the person she didn’t recognize.

“Oh!  I’m so sorry, I thought the room was empty.”  She said quickly, the surprise on her voice as clear as the fear it induced in her to be accidentally so close to someone.  Shaking slightly, she knelt down, trying to scoop up the flowers even as she kept a careful eye on the young man there to make sure there was enough space between them.

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Written By: ZZZ Deceased
#2
Three days it has been. Three since his noon-time lashing and humiliation out in the public eye to behold. Sand had just been slopped up with numbweed again so he was not currently in pain. Right now, his main irritation was feeling so weak. It wasn't just frustrating not being able to do what he once could, but it scared him too. Thinking of all the things that people could now do to him without him being able to fight them off, was highly worrisome. His mind raged against the idea of being helpless. Even when he had been strong he hadn't been able to keep himself from harm. He tried though. Faranth knew he did. But he wasn't strong enough. He had been too weak to stop what had come. First his capture and then the lashing. He had been powerless. Would he ever be strong enough to keep himself from harm? He wanted to be.

His only recourse for so long had been to put up an aggressive front. Some thought he was a bull-headed idiot. Some felt he was unpredictably dangerous. Some were even out-right scared of him. He did not want people to be scared of him. He wanted people to just leave him alone. Many times his anger had made a threatening person back off. Many times though it just made things worse. He hated being angry. It was tiring. Yes, Sanderon was so very tire of raging at everything and everyone. Especially now when he was so physically tired. He just didn't have it in him to rage right now.

With his slashed back gooped up and the worst areas bandaged. Some of the other not-so-major slashes that had not been covered could still be seen for he wore no shirt. He had no shoes on either. The healers still had them in their possession for fear he would try to 'run' without being completely healed. Both wrists were still bandaged for he had tore them pretty good by struggling against the ropes that had bound him to the whipping posts. Though his skin wasn't nearly as pale as it had been from the blood loss, it still wasn't back up to where it normally would be if he were healthy.

Standing with his back to the door, he looked out the window and glared at life going on without a thought for him. Did no one care a breathe about him? Evidently not. Jada had been by the other day, he recalled. Despite his rage landing him in a drugged state for a while, having visited with her was actually, not that bad. D'ren. Yes, he remembered the weyrleader himself saving him from that last whip stroke. He had also said a nice thing or two. Sand frowned a little when those memories came up. He still didn't know what to make of it all. Lymsleia, she had the best intentions it would seem. She was a thoughtful soul despite her stupid moments.

Did he dare even think that maybe these people cared? Even a little? He didn't know if that would be a good thing or not frankly. He chose to firmly deny the fact that anyone would even want to like him. Why should they? He hadn't been the most approachable person here. Frowning with furrowed brows, his eyes grew weary and his soul very tired.

Hearing footsteps coming closer, his old mask slammed neatly into place. It was his security blanket. It was a strong barrier no one could break through. His mind tried to remind him that Jada had, but he shoved that thought aside. He had let her see a sneak of his inner turmoil. She hadn't broken through on her own. It was the only strength he could claim. His mind. It was still his own.

Not wanting to face anyone he kept his back to the door and kept his gaze focused out the window. But his senses were highly in tune to the room behind him. He heard when the door opened and when the soft footsteps entered. He heard when something fell to the floor. He listened as the female gasped with fear. Then he heard her frantic apology. There were those hated words again. 'I am sorry.' But this time, they did not turn him angry. They caused him to shut his eyes and sigh tiredly.

Lowering the barrier of aggression, his eyes softened and his lips frowned slightly with disapproval. He did not want to hear someone non-threatening have such panic in their movements and voice.

Turning slowly, due in part from his desire not to startle and in part from his great weakness, he looked upon the person that was backed up against the wall trying to collect the flowers she had dropped. His face did not show what he was thinking as he kept that carefully guarded. But it did not scream out 'leave me alone' like it usually did either.

Not being able to help himself, the kindness he had always managed to hold onto, leaked.

"The flowers are pretty. Thank you."




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#3
Seeing him turn slightly, but not move any closer let Aparicus manage to get a small hold on her nerves.  Gathering them up, much like she gathered the flowers now, she took a moment to actually look at who she had unknowningly stormed in on.  The young man, a few turns younger than herself, was bandaged at his wrists as well as a large portion of his torso covering most of his back.  What little area of his back wasn’t bandaged she could see angry red lines that would probably scar.

Lashings…  He was the boy they lashed…  she thought, her face paling a little as she brought her eyes carefully back down to her flowers.  Gathering the last into her hands, she stood and put the pile onto the small table before carefully brushing her patched skirt that hung down to her ankles.

“Thank you.”  She replied back, before blushing slightly realizing a second thank-you might sound confusing.  “For saying they are pretty, I mean.”  Carefully she dumped the dying ones from the vase before beginning to pick and choose which one’s she’d leave here in an arrangement that might be pleasing to the eyes and good to smell as well.

“And you’re welcome.  I enjoy bringing a little bit of beauty to places that sometime’s aren’t the happiest.”  As she spoke she remembered her own past.  If the cothold would have had a healer on site, she might have been there full time.  As it was, the healer was only called when her own pain was the worst, and even then she was cursed for wasting her cotholder’s marks.  In the end, it had only taught her to believe that healers brought unhappiness as much as she had learned that human touch brought pain.

And here this young man… he was a picture perfect example that no matter where she managed to fly to on broken wings, she’d never be completely safe from either.  Of course, she’d give up her own life a hundred times to still make the same choice she had that night – to come to the Weyr.  Even with the reminders that she needed to keep her guard up and that she wasn’t completely safe… it was still far better than even a good, quiet day at the Cothold had been.

Adding a pretty purple flower to the slowly growing arrangement, she adjusted where they all sat before smiling ever so slightly.  They really are pretty flowers, aren’t they?  For some reason, it warmed her heart and calmed her nerves more than she would have expected in the presence of the man she’d been so carefully avoiding to hear that he thought they were pretty too.

“If you would like, I can bring you fresh flowers every day.  So you always have something pretty to look at while you are here…”  she offered, her eyes still upon the flowers with that soft smile on her lips.  Of course, her back was still very close to the wall so he wouldn’t be behind her, but rather at the edge of her vision, but it could be seen that after the initial shock, she was calmer.  At least for the moment.


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#4
Sanderon watched her with surprising calm. Her voice, actions and presence did not threaten him at all. Her timidity alone drove his fear of possible harm or danger into the back of his mind. So far, this flower-bringing woman was not a threat. Sanderon was not afraid and thus was not feeling the need to show his aggression in any way.

He watched with a slightly suspicious eye though as she placed the flowers upon the table and smoothed out her skirt. His tired eyes followed her every move and examined what she did carefully. Even the flowers were looked upon with uncertainty. Who was this seemingly harmless person and why was she bringing flowers to his room? Was it an innocent act? Could it be trusted?

Frowning slightly he listened as she thanked him in return for his comment about her flowers. Giving her the benefit of the doubt for now, he simply nodded once to acknowledge her words and continued to watch what she did.

When she dumped the dying flowers out of the vase he felt a weird connection to them. They weren't completely dead yet. Why was she throwing them away? Sure they were wilted but some color remained. He felt wilted himself. He was also beginning to wonder if he was about to be thrown away too.

When she spoke about bringing beauty to places that were not the happiest, he couldn't help the small cringe that escaped his control. Did she even have a clue as to just how unhappy he really was? Did anyone really know how much his anger was just a barrier to hide his anguish? He appreciated the gesture though and nodded again. Not knowing what to say, he didn't say anything at all.

As she worked steadily on putting the flowers in the vase, he noticed that she did not just stuff them in there any which way. She was arranging them just so to bring forth their collective beauty more clearly. She seemed to care about each and every one as she gently picked it up and carefully slide it into it's assigned place. If only he could do that same thing with his life, his thoughts, his fears... Maybe he could look nice to people someday too. Shaking his head slightly at his own stupid thoughts, he frowned at himself and turned his head to look out the window again.

When he least expected it, her voice speaking again startled him. He lifted his eyes away from the ground outside his window and moved his tired gaze over to the woman again. He noticed as he did look to her again that the bouquet was complete. It looked...very nice. It calmed his heart to see them there looking so full of life and hope and beauty. Frowning mentally at his weak sentimentality, he considered the woman's words for a bit and then managed a voice that did not sound quite as weak as he felt,

"I would like that." After a moment's hesitation, he added. "I'm Sanderon."


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#5
He was… so quiet.  So lost in thought that as he hesitated, she finally found the courage to lift her eyes from the vase to where he was standing by the window to see if he had heard her at all.  He had, it seemed, as his eyes had fallen back upon the flowers.  He looked at it and to Apari it seemed as if he looked at it with tired eyes.  He looked… he looked like she had felt after bandaging her own broken fingers.  A broken person.  Broken and so very ready to finally give up that last thread of hope.

She found her own hands wringing themselves as her crooked fingers ached at the very memory of what had made them that way as she waited patiently for his answer.  As short as the moment was, to a person reliving memories it was a lifetime.  Something in her made Apari believe it was a lifetime for him too.

”I’m Sanderon.” he had finally replied after saying that he would, in fact, like her bringing him fresh flowers each day.  The small smile that had hesitated on her face while waiting for his answer returned and as she exhaled, she found herself calming slightly in the company of a kindred spirit.

“It’s wonderful to meet you Sanderon.  My name is Aparicus.  I work in the spice garden by the kitchens.”  She said, the simple chatter coming easily as she now leaned lightly upon the small table and folded her hands in front of her.  “Sanderon… that sounds like a northern name.  I’m from the North too.  From the Tillek area.  Where are you from, Sanderon?  How long have you been here?” 

It didn’t really surprise Aparicus that she had not had the chance to meet the young man – especially with her habit of avoiding groups of people.  It was harder to keep a distance from people in a crowd.  One on one confrontations like this could turn into easy conversation from a safe distance though.  This was what she preferred, even if she hadn’t planned it.


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#6
When the woman shared her own name with him, he gave her a hesitant smile. "Aparicus." He acknowledge. When she mentioned working in the kitchen's spice gardens, his mind wondered if any of it could be lethal if taken at high dosages. Frowning at his thoughts, he shoved them down and listened again as she began to ask him questions.

A northern name. She came from the north too. Where was he from? How long had he been here?

This subject had always made him rage before. No one dared ask him about his home. No one! His reaction this time would have surprised him if he wasn't just so tired of it all. Only the last question did he answer and his voice when he did so, was so very quiet. "Too long." Was all he said, as his gaze returned, once more to the window.


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#7
“I think… I think if I had gone through what you did, I might regret coming to.”  She answered softly, watching the bandaged man watching out the window.  “It is a blessing that they keep their own healers here.  I remember the first… the first time they did this where people could see.”  Ah and she did remember, she remembered all too well the mess that they had made the green rider, B’jin.

“It was a rider that time, but a man all the same.  I think that is what makes me so afraid.”  She paused for a moment, looking down at her hands with their broken fingers, two on each hand making them look like a pair gnarled with age like an Aunties.  “But even with the fear, I’d never go back.”  There was a quiver in the woman’s voice and a shudder than ran through her body.  If they could do this to men, she’d hate to see what they did to women.  Oh she’d never give them a reason to.  Not if she could help it.  But it didn’t make her any less afraid.

But she’d live with her fear any day over living with the complete certainty that pain was a daily thing at the cothold.

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The last thing Sanderon wanted was to be reminded of his public torture and his forced capture. Those were two things he was trying very hard to suppress. He shoved down his revulsion of having the subject brought up.

It seemed suddenly clear to him that if he wanted to retain whatever control he had left, he needed her to leave. She seemed so very kind and sweet. He did not want to scare the young woman or cause her pain. But out of self-preservation, he turned from the window with an angry glare in his eyes.

"I think you need to shut up now."

After his quietly spoken but harsh words were given, his eyes briefly pleaded with her to understand before his 'mask' slammed firmly back into place. It was only then that he saw her mangled fingers and cringed. He hated himself. She had obviously known much more pain than he.

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#9
Apari, after turns of so little conversation, had not realized she had taken such a dangerous road.  She had thought she was doing good to share what little snippets – though they didn’t add up to much at all – of her own past.  At the suddenly harsh words, however, she knew her mistake.  She disliked talking about her own pain, though she had come to terms with it – she had forgotten that her’s had been turns deep, but just as they were turns deep, she had two turns to also begin the healing process.  Sanderon’s wounds were still fresh enough to be bandaged and not just ache with the rain.

Her eyes burned and she knew in a second her face would be tearstained.  Pulling pale blue eyes from him to the floor, she choked slightly on words of apology as her vision blurred.  She’d hurt him…  A woman who knew pain all her life and nothing but… she’d sworn she’d never hurt a fly even if that fly had feasted upon her… and she had hurt a kindred soul while trying to reach out with her heart.

Whole body shaking, her gnarled hands fumbled at the door handle and slipped.  Another slight sob as she fumbled with it again and soon she was out, sprinting out of the Healer Hall and toward her garden, toward her sanctuary.  She never wanted to hurt anyone…

The last bouquet of flowers, the ones meant for her room, had been scattered across his floor once more in her haste to escape his anger and pain.




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