Worst. Day. Ever. [Invite]

Unacceptable!

A'liran stalked out of the dining hall, brows furrowed and jaw grinding in irritation. He had a pounding headache, no thanks to his terrible shrieking beast, and the dining hall was so crowded that all the chatter made it worse. He wasn't hungry enough to deal with that crap. He wasn't tired enough to go to bed. He wasn't frisky enough to jump someone.

And she wasn't close enough to get it out of her damn system.

The dining hall was intolerable, though. The noise and the crowd...the people looking at him and whispering! Well, they provably weren't actually whispering about him, if they were actually whispering at all, but he felt the eyes, by Faranth! Astoreth's cycle made him paranoid and jumpy, irritable and always looking for a fight. Decades of their bond had taught him that. He knew he saw things that weren't there. He looked for provocation, any reason to lash out at and poor sucker who looked at him wrong. He knew he probably didn't need to do that in the middle of the dining hall, but those wherries made him so shading angry! With their looks and their whispers and their smug faces!

You're pacing Astoreth mumbled.

Shut your mouth A'liran snapped back. It's your sharding fault. Shards, the headache! He opened his eyes to realize that he was indeed pacing like a madman in the middle of the gather square. Enough people were out and about that he wasn't making too much of a show of himself, but that didn't stop him from freezing and putting on a most indignant face.

This wasn't going to work. Astoreth had been proddy all day now! Why couldn't she just get it out of the way? The greenrider hissed and spit curses under his breath as his indecisive side reared it's head, beckoning him back into the dining hall because some ale would be amazing. An amazingly bad idea, but amazing.

He huffed, and headed back, only to stop half way.  Did he really need ale? No, he just wanted it. He crossed his arms and argued with himself silently, grumpily.

In the distance, Astoreth rustled in her perch and hissed at a passing blue. Make up your idiot mind. At least if you get drunk, I don't have to worry about you interfering

Interfering?! Since when do you even LET me?

Astoreth's response came creeping, like a fungus. Good point

D’hys was feeling much the same way in regards to the volume of the dining hall. He was all for a good and rowdy evening but that often involved a lot of drinking. He had quickly devoured his light meal and grabbed some red fruit to enjoy outside in the cooling evening with Zeianth. It was there, sitting on the ground, resting his back against the icy blue hide of his napping dragon, that D’hys caught sight of a grumpy looking man. The Gather Square was usually an active location, hence the name, and the bluerider was good at both tuning out the world around him and focusing in on a target for the night. He couldn’t quite say if Mr. Grumpy actually ranked high enough to count as being worth his time but he had drawn an amused gaze upon him.

D’hys watched in silence for some time as the man paced around, seemed frustrated, and looked ready to go back inside the noise chamber. As fascinating as it was, it was starting to leave the bluerider confused as well. What was this guy’s problem? Should he go find out? Yes, yes, you should. Well that was interesting. And why is that? Zeianth was all for a good time but for the most part he was fine hanging back and letting everything happen around him. To have him encourage some potential mayhem meant the dragon was bored as well or he had another idea in mind.

No other ideas. I’m simply getting tired of your musings on what he’s up to. Just go play your games and have fun. And he’s Astoreth’s rider, before you break down and ask. D’hys chuckled but jumped to his feet, brushing his hands over his thighs to wipe away any remnants of the fruit juice. The simple fact that the grumpy rider was Astoreth’s was more than enough to motivate D’hys into action. Most would flee from the feisty greenrider, and while he had never taken to chasing the pair before, D’hys was now up for the challenge of playing with that one.

He didn’t have anything better to do after all.

“Leathers too tight there, babe? I notice you can’t seem to stand still and I’m willing to bet you can’t sit that perky little ass down.” D’hys had his own special way of greeting people. Sometimes he’d play nice and do the good boy routine to break through any walls he didn’t feel like scaling but A’liran wasn’t one of those delicate flower types. “I’m sure I could help you out of them easily enough and give you a good work out to get circulation flowing again.”

Zeianth a stern voice snapped. Do not talk about me. I don't want you to talk about me. Ever. Do you understand?! Astoreth sounded positively outraged, her deep voice rumbling with displeasure. She didn't exactly shout, but her spirited, hissing demands were forceful enough without raising her voice. She'd never have been os forward under normal circumstances, but things were different at the moment.

The nerve of what wherry!

The nerve of YOU... came A'liran's dry response. Women!

Astoreth's outburst irked A'liran, who sneered silently at her new flood of angry emotions. He was just starting to formulate a witty reply when another voice called out to him, this one male. A'liran's head snapped in the appropriate direction and hew frowned.

"Who the shards are you? My leathers are none of your business, you wher-faced gutterslut. Get the fuck away from me!" he snapped without even thinking. His eyes narrowed at the man in question; he was an attractive creature, but also a bluerider. Is this your fault, Queenie? A'liran remanded as he indignantly stared the bluerider down, assuming that someone like this would only be talking to him if they'd been tipped off to his condition. He was, after all, bonded to a female dragon nearing the peak of her cycle. He was the center of the universe.

No. I have better taste than to invite them to our party, A'liran. You should know that.

Well fucking pardon me.

A'liran believed her, but remained displeased. "Go die in threadfall. I'm not taking applications for getting in my leathers at the moment," he spat.

"Are you sure?" Z'ia's voice was almost singsong as he announced himself from behind A'liran, hands reaching out to tuck the tips of his fingers down the back of the greenrider's pant hem and give them a firm yank. So doing offered a nice eyeful of the arse hidden underneath before the little bluerider danced delicately back out of reach with a wicked cackle.

"Such a dirty little mouth," Z'ia continued, bouncing around to rest delicately alongside D'hys, green eyes sparkling with wicked delight. "Trying to sharpen your tongue to match your claws?" One hand raised, Z'ia curled his fingers and gave a mocking 'm'row!' as he clawed at thin air, a sneer on his lips as he stared up at A'liran.

Z'ia! Aveleth's voice was scandalised and his eyes swirled in uncertain emotions as he stood up, wings flaring dramatically and head rearing back on his neck as he hissed. Enough! Oh, relax Kiddo. What's he going to do? Claw me? Z'ia's expression morphed into a devious, hungry one, green eyes predatory as he smirked up at A'liran.

Oh dear Faranth. Aveleth's sigh was almost a prayer. Why couldn't the silly little man ever just go to eat a meal nice and quiet like? Why did he have to wrap himself up in trouble that did not have his name on it? What had he done to deserve this?! It was shameful.

---

[sup]I'm going to go and die of embarrassment with Ave. LOL[/sup]

Can you prove I did? Zeianth didn’t even deign the green worthy enough to lift his head from his comfortable resting place. He knew perfectly well Astoreth was close to flying but neither he nor D’hys had cared in the past and he, at least, wasn’t inclined to care right then either. It was all about their humans having fun. Well, D’hys’ version of fun. The feisty greenrider didn’t seem to have the same definition.

“Trust me, you’ll be glad we bypassed the application process and--” D’hys immediately fell silent and stopped from reaching to grope that perky ass he had made a conversation piece as Z’ia appeared on the scene, talking over him as he usually did in that cheerful voice that meant his friend was about to cause trouble. It was always amusing and D’hys liked to take credit for a vast portion of that attitude since he had been grooming Z’ia into the perfect bluerider since his graduation two turns prior. 

Ah, right. This was the greenrider that Z’ia loved chasing for the laughs despite the shape he ended up in. He knew there was more to the grumpy man than simply being Astoreth’s rider. Showed how much D’hys had been paying attention to that particular greenpair.

He had three options open to him now. Z’ia was, sometimes, easy enough to shove away in one way or another so he could be left alone with a target though that didn’t seem too likely now. He could always continue his harassment form of flirting around Z’ia’s taunting, but that too seemed like a futile effort. So that left him with standing there and enjoying the show that was about to begin when A’liran retaliated to the comments Z’ia made. The greenrider was feisty and seemed ready for a fight. Might as well let him have a warm up with Z’ia before deciding if he was skilled enough for a main event.

A'liran glowered at D'hys, waiting uncomfortable for the inevitable comeback quip. The greenrider raised an accusing finger, prepared to tear into the rude bluerider no matter what came out of his mouth. He'd seen the man around before. He thought he knew his name, too....something with a D? He'd haved asked Astoreth, but she was in far too foul a mood to even bother. She'd just yell and nag at him, like his mother.

Before he could say anything at all, he heard the sound. "Are you sure?!" the voice cried, like nails on a chalkboard. Then, before he knew it, A'liran's pants were halfway down his ass. He sword loudly, reaching back and seizing the waistband while lashing out with his free hand.

"Z'ia! You wherfaced whore!" A'liran snapped, cirling around once in an effort to catch the bluerider. Too late, though! He was already hiding behind this new fellow.

Suddenly, A'liran knew who this man was. He scowled and shoved the larger bluerider's chest. "You must be D'hys...Z'ia's pimp," he said snidely. He'd heard enough about them as a pair, mostly in gossip and rumors babbled by his fellow greenriders. A'liran didn't care enough about Z'ia as a person to ever bother learning anything about this 'D'hys' fellow or put a face on him, but it looked like the meeting was finally taking place.

Oh, yeah. Z'ia. A'liran cut his eyes to the other bluerider and he bit back his sudden interest in spitting at the man. "You're not getting her this time, you motherless tunnel snake," he warned. He took a step closer, leaning dangerously close to D'hys in order to better deliver his threat: "And if you do...I'll break your fucking nose."

A'liran's heart started pounding. In spite of his big talk, he was actually terrified by the prospect of sparring with two blueriders at once. For all he knew, they could seize him and drag him off right now, not to be seen until morning. He didn't back down, though. He was a greenrider, and they were blue. They undoubtedly thought it their right to harass him, and he;d be damned if he;d cringe from them like far too many did.

He just hoped it didn't end badly. He;d probably have seen the wisdom in retreat, were he not growing increasingly dragon-drunk as time passed. Shards! These bastards could smell it like a wher smelled blood.

D’hys wasn’t sure if he was pleased or disappointed that he was known to the greenrider. It definitely buffed his ego to be known, even as a pimp, but he had wanted to play with the guy a bit before allowing him the honour of knowing his name. It really didn’t matter though. In the end, D’hys was only interested in the game and getting the prize he had set for himself for that evening. In fact, it seemed like quite the growing handful of a prize with the way A’liran was prattling on. Was Astoreth about to fly? Could anyone ever tell when her rider was proddy to grab the hint before he gave it away? It didn’t seem likely from what he could recall of mutterings about this particular green.

“You’re so spunky and adorable, babe,” D’hys finally commented with a pat of his hand to A’liran’s head. The threat of a broken nose truly was cute. Not that he ever wanted one nor did he want to give the man a chance to prove he could in fact break a nose, but it made the thrill of victory seem so much more intense and worth it. This one would be a fun ride of that he had no doubt. No wonder Z’ia focused so much on winning this one.

"That's all you've got?" Z'ia responded smartly, eyebrows shooting up his forehead as he leaned lazily against D'hys and smirked up at A'liran. The greenrider was amazing for a laugh, and the little bluerider found the ease with which he could be rattled far too much fun. The fact that he was definitely proddy only encouraged the young man.

"Isn't he precious?" Z'ia gushed with an evil smirk, just after A'liran's hissing and spitting, watching with deep satisfaction as D'hys petted the other man on the head in such a wonderfully condescending manner. After the better part of three turns - and how many flights? - he still thought he'd succeed in breaking Z'ia's nose. It was positively adorable.

Z'ia? What, Kiddo? Leave off or I won't chase. Aveleth almost sounded convincing, but the little bluerider simply snorted in amusement. Liar.

A'liran ground his teeth and huffed at the pair, no longer sure who he hated more of the two. He jerked away from D'hys' touch and swatted at the man's hand. "Don't touch me!" he spat, taking an instinctive step back in spite of his big talk. By now, a few passers-by were laughing and whispering, though it wasn't as much of a circus as it could have been. B'jin still held the record for the most disruptive proddy behavior for a particular flight last summer.

It was still a good show to them, and that was still enough to infuriate A'liran.

He realized he was holding his breath. He exhaled, still staring daggers at the two blueriders. For those few moments, he seemed almost cowed, daunted by their callous teasing. They were, after all, blueriders. They outranked him, and he already knew how one of them felt about greenriders. The other wasn't shaping up to be much better. A'liran rocked back on his feels and considered fleeing in a fit of terror, but his pride interjected.

Unable to decide which of them to lash out at more, he simply took a brazen step forward and spat at them. He had impressive aim.

"Neither one of you assholes has any right to talk to me like that, you perverts," he accused, pointing death at them while anger flared in his eyes. At the same time, he couldn't help but make a creeping advance towards them, his breath shifting to faster, almost excited puffs.

Astoreth raged in him. They were both so...so...attractive.

No! Stop it, you slut! Can't you see I'm-

I do not care

She was no help. A'liran groaned aloud and brought his hands to his face, shuddering as their shared blood surged. So close! Any minute now. The suspense was killing him.

He didn't realize he'd unconsciously stumbled closer to them, or that he'd adopted a particularly needy, taunting expression.

“Extremely precious,” D’hys’ expression didn’t change and his gaze didn’t leave A’liran’s face as he casually wiped away the spit from his cheek. The greenrider would get his due soon enough, there wasn’t a need to make a fuss about such a minor thing. It was extremely clear the cranky but attractive bastard was proddy and the way his expression and stance changed before D’hys’ eyes showed exactly how close to the flight A’liran was. This was going to be extremely amusing.

A feral grin appeared as D’hys took only one step toward the stumbling man. “What’s the matter, babe? You don’t like being complimented? Or is it you hate talking and prefer to just get right to being dominated?” He leaned in as if to share a secret and lowered his voice only the slightest bit to add to the effect, “I’ll fuck you like you deserve, right here with an audience if you really wish to continue standing out here but I won’t touch you, today, a moment before Zeianth claims Astoreth.”

This time, however, he did step in closer, carefully circling around the greenrider, keeping his promise of not touching, until he came to a halt in front of A’liran once more. “Unless you want me to.”

Zeianth, be ready. You’ll be chasing her this time. Oh, and winning, of course. D’hys’ tone left no room for argument as he was fully intent on the prize now. A fun game of teasing a greenrider that seemed like a good lay had turned into harassing the poor proddy dear and proving he was a bluerider that got everything he wanted. A’liran was suddenly at the top of the list.

Fine, Zeianth sighed and stood up, taking his time to stretch out. He sat then, waiting for Astoreth to take off. He knew it wouldn’t be long with how her rider was behaving and while D’hys sometimes enjoyed the chase, Zeianth was going to make this a quick one to prove their prowess.

Sorry, Aveleth. I’ll be taking this win.

She's mine! The usually meek and whispery voice of the young blue dragon was harsh and shocked as he stood up suddenly, wings extending and a hiss of outrage tearing free. Zeianth's proclamation that he was going to not only chase, but win, riled the younger blue in a manner he very rarely displayed capable of. Zeianth knew he rarely won flights, Zeianth knew which greens favoured him, and Zeianth knew Aveleth won next to nothing, regardless, when they chased together. The young dragon spat out another outraged hiss, eyes hot and angry.

"Neither one of us is," Z'ia purred, unworried by Aveleth's sudden spark of outrage our D'hys' own sudden attraction to the spunky greenrider. He probably should have been, knowing as he did the older blue's tendency to out-fly him in any chase they entered together, but Z'ia was always up for a good time, a challenge and well, winning one of his favourites out from under D'hys would definitely qualify as a great time.

Forget Zeianth. Focus on Astoreth. Z'ia gently guided his dragons outraged mind to focus on the item of their intent; after all, they didn't want to fly Zeianth! The last thing he needed was his pretty boy getting scratched up by starting a fight with the older dragon. That he might actually be concerned about Aveleth starting a fight confirmed to the young bluerider exactly how hooked his dragon was on his favourites. Interesting.

Z'ia watched D'hys stalking A'liran, a wicked smirk on his features as he did so. "Better the devil you know," He purred.

---

[sup]Shitty tag is shitty *dashes to work*[/sup]

A'liran felt cornered. He backed away from D'hys, only to realize the bluerider was circling him. "Back off, asshole!" A'liran warned as he motioned towards the man, though he'd be damned if he knew what he was actually trying to threaten. Astoreth's emotions confused and thrwarted him, freezing him in place as D'hys came before him again with his little jester curled at his side.

The greenrider's attention shifted between them, unsure which was worse. The devil you know? Was Z'ia trying to encourage him to try and influence the outcome? A'liran scowled and started to move away, only to collide with another man. A'liran blinked in surprise, finding several others clustered close, with varying levels of interest.

Shards, was it that obviously already?

A'liran froze, staring in horror as he felt himself becoming faint. He suddenly felt light as a feather, distant from the world. The emerging stars glittered overhead - close, too close! As he took in a deep breath and reeled back towards Z'ia and D'hys again, he realized it was time.

Then, there was nothing but anger. He and Astoreth shrieked together as they took off. Astoreth's light body pierced the autumn air like an arrow, while A'liran's own limber body wiggled between the two blueriders easily enough as he took off for freedom.

He bolted, his feet slamming into the grass like clockwork as he sought refuse from his pursuers. Bastards! Motherless crawlers! He shouted taunting curses at them as he threw himself into the darkened hallways of the nearest building, though he didn't bother to look and see what it was. He pushed his way past a baffled employee and took off into the shadows, never bothering to turn around and see who was after him, or how close they were.

Astoreth was much the same. She screeched horribly, like some sort of demon from the forgotten Terran legends of Hell, and took off with the next favorable breeze. Her red eyes surged like the fabled star itself, and she snarled and snapped furiously at those males who reached out for her as she ascended. She would never surrender!

Back on Pern, A'liran's trip through the clouds ended suddenly when he took a turn into what looked like an empty store room or something of that nature. Walls! No windows! He gasped and spun around, wondering if he had enough time to make it into the hallway again...

---

Go ahead and skip right to the catch attempts

The dual shriek had barely left the greenpair and Aveleth was screeching his response, the young dragon's already extended wings pumping down while he thrust himself into the air, missing not so much as a beat as he shot after the green dragon with unusual determination. He would not bow down before Zeianth - not this time! Hissing viciously at his mentor, Aveleth flicked his wing-tip in the other blue's direction and promptly ignored him, guided by Z'ia's less irate mind.

Z'ia gave a wicked cackle of delight the same moment Aveleth's shriek pierced the air, the tiny rider spinning to pelt after A'liran with enthusiasm. His legs were short, but he was light, poised and fast. The bluerider zipped along after the spitting greenrider, eyes wide and focused on the prize before him, though the sight shifted between swirling greens and blues, and the darkness of indoors. Z'ia never paused, the sound of his light and springing steps changing from one whisper to another as they went from grass to flooring.

Aveleth knew he had to act fast, the threat of Zeianth's arrogant words hanging like a gold carcass over his head, ready to drop upon him and leave him worthless and in the dust. No! Bellowing a reply to Astoreth's screeching, Aveleth twisted his young body powerfully through the air, violent and determined gaze locked solely upon the slightly smaller dragon, her hide stark contrast to the autumn sky. You're mine! Pushing himself forward, Aveleth twisted to imitate the green, and reached out for her, more determined to twine than perhaps ever before. She was his!

Z'ia skidded to a halt, green eyes dark and sparkling with malicious lust, he threw both arms out, using them to plug the doorway as he stared up at the person within the room. "Hello, sweetheart," what should have been an endearment, came out a sadistic promise, capable of crawling skin.

---

[sup]If Ave doesn't catch, Z'ia can be in the wrong room with some poor NPC >:D[/sup]

D’hys gave a good laugh when A’liran broke into a run. He had heard this one liked to run and give a good ground chase. It didn’t bother him any considering his love of running for an hour, sometimes more, almost every day to help keep fit. The only problem was, of course, Z’ia. The brat was short but he knew how to work his size and had a decent amount of speed hidden in his stubby legs. He watched for a moment as his friend took off after the prize before finally shoving aside two of the other eager riders that had started to close in on A’liran.

No one else need apply. This was a contest between Z’ia and him.

Though Z’ia would have to be content with settling for second place.

He took off at a full run to catch up to the other two men as Zeianth’s great wings flapped with as much determination to bring him up to Aveleth’s side. They were of the same size and both could have the same level of motivation depending on the female and their rider. He had never held an interest in Astoreth, not that he had any strong reason for ignoring her. Both D’hys and he hadn’t paid much attention to that pairing but Aveleth had taken a liking to Astoreth, like he had with Rilaleeyth; though Zeianth did chase that colourful green since she was so sweet and D’hys liked messing with his friends’ minds.

But D’hys wanted A’liran now and despite his affection for Aveleth, Zeianth naturally sided with his rider and wanted to give him what he wanted. So he focused on the spirited green that wove nicely through the air, shrieking challenges and claims of victory as he followed her dives and turns with ease. Once he saw D’hys was also closing in on his end, Zeianth decided enough was enough and made for a claiming move.

D’hys gave a wicked grin when he had A’liran in his sights once more, the feisty greenrider managing to do them a favour by getting himself cornered in a storage room. Advancing slowly after enjoying the game of chase and stalking his prey, D’hys whispered as he reached for A'liran, “tag, babe. You’re it.”

Trapped! Trapped, trapped! A'liran spun around and faced the lone pursuer who had managed to track him to his dead-end hideaway, grey eyes alert and narrowed in rage. The greenrider instinctively pressed his back against the wall, ignoring the pounding emotions that demanded he yield. Astoreth's fury blazed in him like the fires of Rukbat, enticing him to lust and violence. Who was this beast who'd come to oppress and claim him? Another filthy blue or brownrider, arrogant and cruel in their self-righteousness? As if A'liran owed them anything! If they valued him for his body, they should be prepared to sink to their knees and beg him for it! They drooled like fools for just a taste of him, so why was it that he was the one with his back against the wall!

Astoreth screamed again, her thin body already tiring in her breathless race to nowhere. She was a small dragon, and like all greens, she lacked endurance. Astoreth was not one to choose victors; unlike the sassy and playful greens of harper's tales, she resented her suitors and wished nothing more than to evade them as long as possible, dragging the game on until her body grew weary and couldn't push on. You will not have me! she spat cruelly as she wheeled away from one near-catch. I belong to no one! We belong to no one!

"We belong to no one!" A'liran screamed, throwing his lithe form at the man who'd just cornered him. He lashed out at the man with his fists, jaw clenched and heart pounding. He would draw the first blood! He would make this interloper suffer for his disrespect! He would never surrender to the advances of a pig-headed, callous suitor who cared only for a carnal prize! Like a flaming dragon, A'liran shouted and roared as he plowed into the man, too delirious from Astoreth's furious influence to realize that he'd bitten off more then he could chew. The man in question was stronger than he, though not dramatically.

Astoreth ducked from another suitor, but she was quickly overwhelmed. The males were easily flanking her now, and as her endurance failed her, she was surrounded. The little green let out a howl of disdain as the slender form of Zeianth crashed into her. The pair tangled, and Astoreth's fire cooled as she crooned to her victor.