Welcome
Dalibor is a semi-canon Dragonriders of Pern site. No knowledge of the series or site is required to join; players of all experience levels are welcome here. Founded in 2008 on Proboards and moved to Jcink in 2013, Dalibor has been running for eight years.

News
Summer, 18th Turn, 11th Pass

Upcoming Flights:
Green Jasmith

Upcoming Hatchings:
Red Cyanide

Slightly chilly spring days slowly but surely grow warmer as spring gives way to summer. Already the season is proving to be an unseasonably warm one, thankfully breezes have been common giving some relief. Dalibor's denizens can be found frequenting the Weyr's lake more often than in the season before, soaking up all of Rukbat's warm rays while they last.

Though not as common as the springtime there are lingering showers that come and go; thunderstorms are suddenly more common than they were in spring. Word is spreading that Fort Weyr has had an interesting outcome at their most recent hatching: An Orange broke shell and Impressed a genderneutral Candidate.
Leadership
Weyrwoman
Rayna of Gold Couineth - Boo

Weyrleader
Z'dyn of Iron Baihujinth - Rhia

Jr. Weyrwoman
Jali of Copper Laanasuth - Rii

Jr. Weyrleader
Arlya of Burgundy Xerocleth - Rowana

Alphahandler
Norla of Bronze Norsk - Ivy

Betahandler
Der of Grey Desk - Rii
Oreanda of Bronze Osk - Ruin

Weyrlingmaster
Nia of Pink Koeneth - Catsitta
S'vor of Green Absinth - Ruriko

Wherlingmaster
Ijo of Brown Isk - Rhia
Pavir of Blue Pavisk - Captain
Swithin of Blue Swisk - Ivy

Candidatemaster
Ulian of White Rivath - Ruin
Ra'h of Green Musath - Blot
Zanii of Black Zansk - Leo

Staff
Admins
Ivy
Rii
Ruin

Historians

Rhia
Tobes

Advertisers

Captain
Tigersilk
Credits
Dalibor was created by Bre, continued by Cathaline, and is now owned and operated by Ruin. Most of the information, rules, and graphics were made, compiled, or written by staff with credit given to those whose resources they used. Stock thanks to credited parties. All characters and posts are copyrighted to the members of the game. No material from this site should be copied in any way, shape, or form without utter express permission from the members and staff. All references to worlds and characters based on Anne McCaffrey's 'Dragonrider of Pern' series are copyright Anne McCaffrey 1967-2017, all rights reserved. The Dragonriders of Pern is registered U.S. Patent and Trademark Office, by Anne McCaffrey, used here with general permission for non-commercial purposes without monetary gain.

Pages: (2) 1 2  ( Go to first unread post )
Add Reply
New Topic

 Masquerade! Every face a different shade, SU 18th Moon Masque Opening Feast
Boo
 Posted: Feb 11 2018, 03:17 AM
Quote
Senior Weyrwoman





N/A


3004 Posts
2255 Marks
Member Inventory: View




A sevenday before the event, Rayna stood at dinner and told everyone about the Moon Masque holiday. As soon as the announcement had been made there was a flurry of excitement and a booth had even been set up by some of the Weyrfolk to create masks. Rayna had been busy with the activities, checking the stores with Jali and ensuring that they would have enough supplies. The traders came from far and wide and were permitted to set up shop in the Weyrbowl after presenting their credentials. Rayna was not allowing just anyone to set up residence in the Weyr.

As the day crept closer, Rayna managed to ask a drudge to acquire a mask for herself as well as a costume. Her costume was that of a harper, paying tribute to her family's history. Her mask, covering the top half of her face, was decorated with harper blue, white and gold. It fanned out with a mane of feathers on the top and sides. It might not have been one that she picked herself but she had to admit it did look quite something and she congratulated the drudge on her taste when she received it.

They had acquired enough leaves for the goldentines and had distribution stations around the Weyr that would be replenished whenever a Weyrfolk noticed the supply getting low. Rayna had prepared the lower cavern workers as best she could and organised shifts so that everyone would be able to both enjoy the event and still provide for the Weyr. She had also instructed that candidates, weyrlings and wherlings wear their knots at all times. Any found not doing so would be removed immediately and any full rider flaunting the rules by trying to romantically engage one of the aforementioned groups would have to answer to her.

The rules were thusly set out, carefully communicated and by the time the event rolled around there were only a few candlemarks of frantic, last minute preparation as well as a disaster with a charred herdbeast and smoke filled kitchen that was rectified by cutting the unusable portion away.

Now, if she made the speech that would give her away so she enlisted the help of Couineth, who had complained about not having a mask for herself, and once the event was due to start they reached out to the people of the Weyr.
Dinner is served. Thus begins this seven day of fun, food, friendship and festivities. Goldentines may be found at various locations throughout the Weyr. Guidelines and rules will be found as you enter the Dining Hall to have your name marked off. We hope you enjoy this event immensely. And so it begins!

Then Couineth reached out to the dragons, My fellow dragons, do not think we have forgotten you. There are weyrfolk who will write goldentines to deliver to either your riders, the riders of your friends just as the humans are able to do. We also have some artistic individuals who will paint your face if you wish it.
That was her idea, Couineth ruffled her wings smugly and then landed in the 'Bowl, her own face already painted brilliant shades of green and blue.

Rayna herself had not yet entered the Dining Hall. It wouldn't do to be the first to arrive, after all. People would guess who she was the moment they walked into the hall if she were the first one there. Instead she waited a while longer, keen to arrive with the largest crowd of people. Once she was certain more were arriving, Rayna joined the queue to enter the curtained off 'rooms' on either side of the halls where Weyrfolk were checking names and appearances. It was going to be a great festival.


user posted imageuser posted imageuser posted imageuser posted imageuser posted image
PM
^
Tobes
 Posted: Feb 11 2018, 05:50 PM
Quote
Wingrider





N/A


170 Posts
2571 Marks
Member Inventory: View




There were disadvantages to having doors meant for keeping in secrets. Namely that doors meant for keeping things in could also keep some things out. There was a persistent, high peeping that came drifting from under the gap of Ulian’s office door, the tiny creature throwing its voice as far as it could—given the nature of Rosies, this was far indeed, and the sound would be an annoyance until the Mindhealer gave in. The sticky-toed Mushroom blinked up at Ulian, peeped once more, then presented a somewhat gummed letter. The bold Rosey thought nothing of climbing into their hands right along with the scrap of paper, switching from chewing on the former to the latter without warning, though they did send a fuzzy image of a certain Bluerider penning the note just in case Ulian couldn’t figure it out. Even the blurred moving image of them suggested nervousness.

The penmanship was crabbed and unsteady, and several inkblots had smeared in their apparent haste. It read:
I know you are busy but if you aren’t TOO busy I will look for you at the dance later tonight. I think you will know which one I am. Sorry about Mushy I am sure he will be rude if he delivers this at all.
Yours most respectfully,
W’ryn


Many candlemarks later and W’ryn was fussing with their tunic. Again. This did nothing to fix it, for there was nothing to fix, save to pluck off a few stray hairs that were clearly of another animal’s origin. For the umpteenth time they wished to be back in their own weyr, where they might stump and grumble and growl and no possibility of errant ears hearing them. They might not even come. They’re so busy with real things, and bein’ all… smart and stuff… ugh. Maybe they don’t even like dancin’. I don’t. Shards, why’d I even ask ‘em, I can’t even half walk now. It wasn’t true exactly, they had come so far in the two seasons since the Expedition, but Healers’ skills only amounted to so much. They would never fully hide the limp on one side. The Bluerider glared balefully at the cane propped in the corner. It wasn’t necessary, but it made them steadier and faster, but it still rankled to know themselves slower than they wished.

Earth, for once back on his weyr ledge rather than stalking the Healer caverns, only hummed an absentminded acknowledgment. He was holding something very delicately in his rose talons, tilting it this way and that to catch the first light of sunset. Finally he looked up from his trinket, head swinging instinctively towards the Infirmary.
All will be well. Or… it will not be, and you will be alive. This only provoked a growl and a few pointed remarks from his Rider, but something about his growing confidence had instilled them with a measure of it, too. With a sigh and a last affectionate pat for all of their assorted pets—the number kept growing, even during their mandated sick rest—W’ryn added the final touch to their costume and Earth departed from his ledge, off to seek his own entertainment for the night.

It was never difficult to find Rivath. She stuck close to the Weyr, and her energy glowed like a beacon to him most days, and she was bright white besides and like to stand out against any backdrop she sought. He landed heavily near her, still cradling his delicate something in his forepaws. He held it out, ducking his head with a pleased sort of shyness. He trusted her enough these days to believe that she would be pleased with most of his ideas. It didn’t even matter that his projected voice would carry over to anyone else nearby as he explained the appropriately dragons-sized goldentine. Unlike W’ryn’s, this one had clearly been written by a deft hand, large enough to be read by over-sized eyes, although so few of them could read anyway.
W’ryn says this is a holiday and that we give paper with words as a gift. I cannot read the words, but they wrote them down, and then I had another human write them down to look nicer—their’s did not look so nice—and he did a drawing of you at the bottom. It says,
‘To my friend Rivath, there will be dancing tonight and I would like to watch dancing with you. Maybe you will also dance and I do not know how to but maybe I can try. Thank you for always being a friend beside me, from Earth.’ And it is a drawing of you dancing,
and here he tilted his own head alongside hers, idly leaning his eyebrow ridge against her lower jaw, appreciating the little ink drawing of what was clearly a dragon dancing on their hindlegs. It was perhaps not detailed enough to look exactly like Rivath, though he had been very clear about how it must look, but hopefully she would not mind.

W’ryn settled into a chair near the dining hall entrance, hiding the offensive cane beneath the table. They were picking at their tunic again—this time in a pocket, running their thumb over an already rather crumpled goldentine, wondering yet again if it had been a good idea to write it out at all. Dressed in the simple green tunic and brown breeches they might have gone relatively anonymous, but the addition of a multi-layered leather mask cut into the shape of an Icehowler’s face did little to mask their identity, especially not with their green eyes and curly hair peeking through it. They would just have to wait, trying not to tear their small gift to careless shreds in the meantime.

@Ruin
PMEmail
^
Rii
 Posted: Feb 11 2018, 07:49 PM
Quote
Jr. Weyrwoman





Idea Factory


2396 Posts
307 Marks
Member Inventory: View




There was at least one person Jali was sure knew exactly who she was, mask or no mask, and she dared say he wasn't the only one. Of course, Armon had been there when she put her mask on. She was fine with that; after all, she wasn't going into the sevenday of feasting and dancing for mystery romance, but rather to take part in the happiness and goodwill of the Weyr coming together.

And, she reflected, it would be the first time in many turns that she would be joining celebrations while completely abstaining from wine. A change that was only the precursor of more changes, and she heartily sympathized with Rayna in the coming seasons. There was going to be a lot of temporary reshuffling of work, between Frayya and Jali herself. Not too old after all, I hope.

Having confirmed her identity to those doing security for the evening, Jali stepped into the dining hall and waited for Armon to rejoin her. "I hope you've the energy to dance, later," she told him as she curled her arm back around his. "Although before we get that far, perhaps some food." Her lips curved in a smile. "And I've something to give you in person." Tucked under the arm not linked to her spouse's, was a single goldentine that she'd chosen not to have delivered by firelizard or any other intermediary.

Once they were out of the way of those moving in and out, she offered it to him.

My Armon,

You are my heart, my rock, my shelter in the worst of storms. I could ask for no one better to build a new future with.

And Faranth willing, when the snows fall again, our child will join us as part of that future.


She waited for his eyes to meet hers again before she offered him her hands. "I waited a little to be sure, but... the healers confirmed it not even a sevenday ago." She smiled again, filled with hope. They were going to be parents. A family.

@RhiaBlack


PMAIM
^
Catsitta
 Posted: Feb 11 2018, 08:52 PM
Quote
Weyrlingmaster





N/A


846 Posts
0 Marks
Member Inventory: View




This was the kind of thing that Nia loved! It was an irrefutable excuse to drape herself in loud colors and overzealous patterns without an inkling of shame. Most of the time she muted her inclinations and tied a strip of colorful cloth in her curly hair to keep it out of her face, or on a more daring day, she would go about her day in a frivolous pink dress that matched Koeneth flawlessly. But the Moon Masque, even more so than a normal formal affair, was a reason to dress up as outrageously as possible. That, and see if there were any lovely ladies she could sway into dancing. Of course, she was still on duty: a weyrlingmaster's job never ends. She had to keep an eye on any weyrlings to make sure they behaved.

Nia fluffed her hair on last time as she approached the dining hall. From the rosy sandals on her feet, to the shimmering, feline mask covering half her face--the weyrlingmaster was a sight in pink. Layers upon layers of patterned cloth were stitched together to create a fluffy skirt that revealed all sorts of curious designs when the dress flared. The topmost layer of the outfit was an air blush that contrasted starkly with her dark skin. She was no weaver, but her sewing skills were good enough to create a costume she was downright proud to wear.

She felt girly and flouncy!

After her identity was checked at security, she entered the Hall. She miiiight just have a friendly goldentine or two to give out should she find certain people in the crowd. If not, she would happily give them out later. There were people to dance with now!

.OPEN.


L'aars replaced his mask, having lifted it to show his identity. His name was written down (or crossed off, he had no idea how they were keeping track) and he stepped forward. Next was Frayya's turn. When she was done, he held out his hand so that he could escort her inside the dining hall. It was odd, having a long term partner to take to events like these. Partner...Hm. It was a more graceful term than pregnant lover. Though neither quite settled right on the tongue. This past Turn brought many changes to his life. It began with him as a recent Transfer from Benden in the wake of Grove's Foundation and now found him with an expecting woman on his arm and a Wingleader in the Upper Wings.

He guided Frayya deeper into the dining hall, somewhat amused by this idea of anonymity. Even with him clad in formal attire and a mask, no one who knew him was likely to mistake him from anyone else. Unless they couldn't believe that L'aars would ever wear something as garish as the spring green undershirt peeking out from beneath his usual black. One could only see the color at the throat, where a few heavier necklaces hung low over his chest and collarbone. Though, his pitiful mask making skills might distract from even those unusual elements. The plain, grey painted accessory was quite boring compared to the far more creative designs in the crowd.

The ironrider found a relatively quiet spot in the festivities to slip his arm free of Frayya's, eyes flicking to her form. He didn't want to stray too far tonight, lest she get bumped around too much in the excitement. She wasn't exactly...ah, graceful right now. Beautiful, but not graceful. A smile twitched behind his mark as he reached into the pocket of his finery.

"I believe these are traditional," he said, offering the tanrider a goldentine. The arts might be in her blood, but this holiday made it glaring how little it was in his. He was a man of simpleness and practicality. Despite this, he shifted, almost nervously as he waited for her to accept the note and read it.

'Frayya,
Family was a distant dream of mine until you. Now, I cannot imagine a day without you and our child in it. Save me a dance. I believe we're overdue for one.'


.
@Ivy


PMEmail
^
Captain
 Posted: Feb 12 2018, 12:18 AM
Quote
Wherlingmaster





N/A


252 Posts
515 Marks
Member Inventory: View




Zaela of Pink Nektisuth
Open, willing/prefer to do branch off threads of our own

Zaela didn't look like she wanted to be here. But the options were go or listen to Nektisuth whine at her all night. So, here she was, dressed in a deep pink with a pink dragon's mask to match her dragon. The dress had no sleeves, though she kept a shawl wrapped around her and her left arm completely concealed in it.

She settled in at a table, off to the side and out of the way and watched everyone else almost enviously. She had no one to spend the night with and with her missing a hand she couldn't entirely blame them. She managed to still fly, she was holding on to that like a lifeline, but she'd not had anyone before the failure of an expedition and that certainly wasn't going to change, considering.

Huffing to herself, she hunkered down, scratching Thief idly before the green decided her attention was needed elsewhere, probably living up to her namesake.

X'vir of Brown Oth
@RhiaBlack

X'vir wore entirely black. A black cloak fell about him like dragon's wings, and his small army of black flits had managed to find purchase on him. He was up to six of the little skyrats now. His hair was tied in a tight braid behind him, dangling to nearly his waist.

And he looked amused. And made a beeline for the weyrleader, not an ounce of hesitation in the man as he approached, dipping into a polite bow. "Even if you hadn't told me, you'd still have been easy to find." He mused, deep nearly monotone voice betraying a hint of amusement.

Qivi of Black Dekandaeth
@Ivy

Qivi had plans. And those plans were to find Rider! Easier said than done when everyone was dressed up and hidden behind masks. Her own mask was a sun, bright and matching her personality. Her dress was a whirlwind of oranges and yellows with red dancing along the hem and neckline.

She didn't see him, but that didn't mean anything. She also couldn't very well wander around shouting for him. That took all the fun out of it! She'd have to hunt!


((More coming later... If you want someone specific, feel free to tag me!))



Captain's Crew
Pressganged - Captain's Wanteds
Lady Holder Baria of Western
X'vir of Brown Oth | Ems of Blue Kapth | Wa'ut of Blue Qith
L'ru of Green Syrath | Z'ant of Green Lyraleth
Zaela of Pink Nektisuth | Qivi of Black Dekandaeth | V'ax of Cyan Purlalith
Vatalian of Orange Vatask | Pavir of Blue Pavisk | Setarii of Black Setask
Inali, Havenrute, Navenax, Felrin, Uonai
PM
^
Ruin
 Posted: Feb 12 2018, 04:05 AM
Quote
Betahandler





Capslock Queen


3137 Posts
1064 Marks
Member Inventory: View




He hadn't stopped playing.

They'd gone away into private areas to practice when forced to live in the Barracks, but as soon as their wings had been freed they'd chosen a private cavern near the waterfall. The sound of rushing water was a constant soothing presence to their everyday lives, and allowed him to practice in peace. He wasn't sure if he wanted anyone to know yet. That he hadn't given it up. That, just maybe, it brought him more joy now than it ever had before. He paced as he strummed the catgut and silk strings, his fingertips hissing across them like hide on stone, but his movement did not go unnoticed. A pair of bright swirling eyes watched him from the relative darkness of the inner weyr. Xe'rik did not need to look to confirm that watchful presence, Byth was always there, pressed so tightly to his mind so he could never forget or feel lonely.

Once, the man had thought that the Blue had found him at the beginning of his darkest days, but he had been wrong. Byth had found him at the beginning of his best days. They may have had to suffer through a living nightmare in those first few weeks with Xel so close to death, but the Blue had never wavered. The Healers had worried. Hush whispers in the dark they thought he couldn't hear. Wondering if there would be another Weyrling lost too soon for a similarly selfish reason. Selfish. As if he'd had any intention of claiming a tiny life and tying it to his own--Byth had been the selfish one! Byth had seen something in him worth claiming, worth saving, and it was all Xe'rik could do to simply be worthy of his sacrifice. They had suffered, overcome, and...continued. There was no grandness to his life now like there had been before, yet he was happy. He could breathe. He could face every day as if it were bright and full of opportunity.

Yet he hadn't laid down his instruments.

He may have said so, may have implied it to be true, but it was never anything but a quiet little secret between them both. It brought him joy to play, to sing, to perform. A quiet low-pitched humming joined in to the strumming of his fingertips as Byth reached his long snout forward and sang his own dragon song. Xel smiled, matched his voice to that lullaby and felt it get lifted by the matching throaty calls of his four firelizard as they joined in from their perches. For a few long moments they were, the six of them, perfection--but it had to end. At least if the man didn't want to be too late. I don't know if I'm ready, he confessed to the dragon who watched him, opening his arms to accept the angled head that wedged itself against his torso. An eye easily the size of his own head regarded him in lazy green swirls, and his hand fell on the bulged ridge to rub until the whirls came faster.

You're ready for anything, after everything else and the man sighed, knowing it was true and hating to admit it. At least I'll have a mask, he conceded with a chuckle before releasing the dragon's head to disappear into the Rider's quarters. They'd never recognize him anyway, the people of this Weyr, he'd been largely removed from them save for Weyrlinghood and how much did they really pay attention to the newest Dragonriders--alright, but how well would they know him with a mask? What was more, he was dressed like a drudge rather than befitting his actual station--the man who could have been the next Masterharper of Pern if he hadn't been claimed by Dalibor. They tended to do that, didn't they? This Western Weyr. His pants were ragged--they looked dirty even though they weren't. His tunic disheveled and patched with scraps of fabric. His mask? Somewhat horrifying he personally thought, and as plain and dirty as he looked.

He hadn't even done it himself, just in case it would give him away on any level, instead he'd had it picked up for him from the creche--undoubtedly one of the children had made it and perhaps someone would recognize the handiwork if not the wearer. Hopefully not the wearer. Scrambling out into the dragon's lair he asked, well? Do I look the part? Part pauper, as requested the Blue answered, although Xe'rik could tell he was quite unhappy to have used the term pauper, which he'd only learned because of this whole Masquerade in the first place. It wasn't that Byth found the whole thing unfortunate, the opposite, he didn't think 'paupers' were less fortunate at all. They always seemed quite happy to him, and if they weren't? Well, Byth was always there to help. He had been so worried that his Rider was trying to go as a jest, but no, Xel simply wanted to be hidden, disguised.

He wanted to play again without the pressure of playing.

I'll see you later then, my darling, I can't have you carry me--that would give it right away. The dragon honked softly, twitching his little soft nose as he shuffled out onto his weyrledge casting a baleful eye back at his Rider. They wouldn't notice me anyway, would they? I think you're getting a little too large to slip by unnoticed, Xel replied as he ducked out of the tunnel entrance, pausing half a moment to warn off his firelizards. "The four of you can poach all the food you want, but you can't come near me tonight, right?" The quartet regarded themselves with utmost pride and seemed to agree that this was an amicable agreement that worked in their favour. They didn't want to spend all night singing anyway, there were far more interesting things to do at a party. Xel eyed them briefly, wondering how many stolen wine skins he'd have to return tomorrow--they hadn't quite realized he'd stopped drinking--but ultimately headed down down the sloping tunnels.

Byth had wrapped himself up into a ball on the ledge, peering around wondering who really did see him after all. He worked quite hard on being small, didn't they know, and surely that was remarkable--he wasn't afraid! He just simply liked to be out of the way, there were so many better things to be doing than...well...bothering about him. That didn't mean he didn't want to be where the festivities were! He quarreled with himself over whether or not he wanted to reach out to any of his clutchmates, and even though Xel was pushing and pushing, he ultimately decided to wait, shifting from foreleg to hindleg and back again, wondering who might be the first Weyrling to do anything interesting. Oh, maybe it would even be the new children--Rivath's children--they were just as interesting as his own siblings sometimes. Sometimes just a little scarier, but so was their mother so...what could you do about that. He'd be sure to encourage them to be less angry.

It didn't take Xe'rik too long to make it down to the Dining Hall, he'd left early enough to get in with the rest of the wait staff--and while he certainly wasn't 'the help', the Weyrfolk didn't care what the crazy Dragonriders liked to do in their time off, even if it involved them carrying serving trays or playing songs. Some of the Harpers were displaying their knots proudly, most weren't, but Xe'rik wasn't here to participate in the festivities of dance and drink, he was here to play. To play until his fingertips bled--not that they'd done that since he was nine, but the expression was a frequent example of how long he was willing to work. So he affixed his simple Harper knots as well, to ward off anyone willing to stray to close, to let them know his pace wouldn't slow--his song wouldn't falter, and he mingled with the band.

With masks on they had to sort out who was playing what by experience and sound, and it didn't take him long at all to get marked as their lead, although they had to know he was a Dragonrider--there would be no hiding the spicy smell of Byth seeped into him. Oh, they'd spend the night switching instruments and vocals anyway, everyone had a different twang to their song--though Xe'rik had learned early how to shift his in approximation of others, so he wouldn't even sound like himself if he didn't want to. Which he didn't. The Harper settled himself down on a stool with a gitar on one knee and played. He followed when required, led as was typical and sang the ballads of Pern--at least he started with the easy happy ones. The crowds were filing in. The sound of tinkling dinnerware and laughter began to fill the Dining Hall, and for once he felt...at peace. All the sounds he was familiar with that would once have him calling for another drink to forget. Now seemed so much lighter. Happier. This wasn't a grave. It was...well it was a celebration, wasn't it.

"Gather, gather, all ye weary folk," he sang out boldly into the crowd--who were already gathering--the masked Harper at his left leaned forward to fill the next line. "Tis the golden time of claiming tine," the thick lilting accent nearly threw Xe'rik off--it had been quite some time since he'd performed with...well...don't say riff raff Byth chided, much to his chagrin. "Gather, gather, all ye tender folk," Xel filled in which only the slightest hesitation. "Find and claim your heart's design," came the reply. A few of the Harpers, knotless, began dancing on the open floor; a long-time trick to pull in milling Weyrfolk, or those not yet enough in the drinks to feel brave to start the dancing.

"Gather, gather, all ye masked of face," he pressed on as he felt a brave swell in his heart at the matching voice beside him--as different as it might have been from those he'd sung with before. "Revelers come forth and claim the night," came the reply to his to his left. "Gather, gather, all ye in this place," he led again, etching the bow across the neck of his violin as his partner finished the first verse. "A golden time turns darkness bright." Xel couldn't help but chuckle under his breath as the song continued. Was this what he'd been missing the whole time? Actual enjoyment of the Craft? Bringing joy to people? He felt Byth press close in his mind, pleased with his progress and the happiness he felt, perhaps even just a little feeling of justification as well--the dragon always seemed to be right. Too smart for his own good.

- - -


In truth it may have taken Ulian a very long time to notice. They had been somewhat distracted of late, or perhaps of long, well...ever since the Expedition really. When not with a client or their pupils they would find long moments to stare off in space and...wonder. In face, Rivath had quite taken a liking to simply staring at them to see how very long it would take for them to realize she was doing so. Sometimes it was candlemarks. Ulian rarely had enough time to be thinking for candlemarks. Occasionally. That was one of those occasions. They had begun by thinking about how they were going to keep their Candidates in line, a thought that had slowly turned into how they might go about dressing for the evening when it would be quite obvious who they were to begin with. This had then turned into thinking if W'ryn would notice them. Or if W'ryn would want to notice them.

For having taken quite so long to admit that they had feelings, they were doing a rather good job of slowing the whole process down in general, weren't they. The peeping noise was persistent. Ulian had thought it was their mind, but suddenly realized it was not. The first thing they noticed were two enormous rainbow-spangled eyes...not even that enormous except they were just so close, the second thing they noticed being Rivath's somewhat rank morning feeding breath. Against better judgement they gagged visibly. The White laughed. She would. The third thing to find its way through their mind was that the peeping noise hadn't stopped. oh thats outside its a present for you im surprised it hasn't left yet their dragon whispered softly as she returned to her pile of cushions leaving Ulian to unfold themselves from their chair and answer the...peeping.

"What...ah..." they said aloud as they peered down at the creature curiously. Any questions they might've had were answered when they reached down and it gooped itself into their palms and started broadcasting. So it was W'ryn's. One of those...Rosies? If they recalled correctly. "What do you suppose it eats?" They mused aloud to the White. She turned her delicate head toward them, her eyes flashing brilliant hues, do you suppose it comes in blue it looks quite tasty. Ulian's lips tightened. She was joking of course...mostly. The creature was nibbling on them now, so they peeled the note free and read it as the Rosie did...whatever Rosies did. Ah the Masque, a smile lit up on their face. An invitation to accept. And Candidates to spy on. for me to watch Rivath corrected with calculated malice.

It wasn't that she felt maliciously towards the Candidates, only that she wanted every opportunity to cuff them for being neglectful of the rules. Ulian corrected her with a glance, but she only laughed again. ill see the mountain she crooned softly, innocently. Mmhmm Ulian replied as they scrawled a response to W'ryn with their ornate and flowing handwriting--because why not always be somewhat fancy in everything they did.

Will be there,

Can't wait to find you

Willingly yours,
~Ulian


The Healer paused a moment, trying to remember how the Rosie was holding the note in the first place but the creature seemed to stick it back to itself...or held it with its legs...regardless of how it was done the beast was soon released again and---well, Ulian hoped it would find its way back to W'ryn at one point or another. There would be plenty of time between now and the Masquerade. And many things to do. "Alright, my love, we have children to tend and then...other things, yes?" Rivath had been watching the little creature go...hungrily...you just ate they reminded her, but she snorted delicately. i am sometimes always hungry most of the time she corrected, before uncoiling and skipping out into the Infirmary after squeezing herself through the doorway with a rustling of her wingsails not unlike dry leaves.

A short while later saw them in the Candidates Barracks (@All Candidates) gathering up the future white-robes. "Today is the Masquerade, I know you are all familiar with the rules but we will run through them one more time. You will check in privately, take off your mask, present yourself and your knots to the Weyrfolk, and they will mark you down. You will enter with your mask on, and your knots on. You may fraternize insofar as dancing, hand holding, perhaps I will even allow chaste sibling-like kisses, but you will not have sex, and you will not drink. I know that is a hard ask, there are a lot of things that are made better with sex and drinking--like sex and drinking, but you have joined the program at Dalibor--whether it is Dragon or Wher--with the hope of finding your lifemate, and we need to trust that you are willing to commit to one and a half turns of no sex and drinking once you Impress, or you will otherwise kill your new baby like some Weyrlings and Wherlings have in the past. So let's no one get removed from the program over the next sevendays festivities and carry on until the next hatching, yes? Rivath and I will be there if you need anything. If anyone has any questions, now is the time."

Ulian would stay with them as long as they needed, though they were a smart bunch. They helped with any mask related crises, or costume related crises, and then with that taken care of it was on to finish making themselves ready for the festivities. They were not the type to hide who they were. Since they had arrived they'd shown a preference for flowing ostentatious fabrics more suited to such a festivity, so to hide they'd have to be completely opposite of that--and where was the fun in such a thing? They could, however, outdo even themselves. Their hair had long ago reached the small of their back, and while it was already braided here and there in places they took the time to add further braids and glass beads that had been cut by the jewelsmiths to look like gemstones. They would catch the light and sparkle like miniature rainbows--they would daresay they shone brighter than Rivath's eyes, but it would probably be a lie.

They added long feathers, white as snow, Aya had molted that they always collected, and even called for help when they couldn't quite reach sections of hair in the back. They'd needed help with the mask as well, they were not nearly as crafty as they were mindful of others; and while it was traditional to make your own mask, where was the fun in that when you simply weren't able? Their clothing flowed as freely as their hair, the typical mix of blues and whites, and the mask had been made with Aya and their own favourite colours in mind--as long as it may have taken Rivath to work on her aversion to such a shade. She now showed a preference for Blues, didn't she? The mask was leather, black, blue, and all avian with its own set of glass beads and dyed wherry feathers set onto it to catch the light and all the attention--as most birds enjoyed anyway.

What are you doing they asked curiously, but Rivath only nosed them away mentally. Will you take me to the Dining Hall at least, darling? The White seemed to mull it over a bit, as she was quite busy, but relented all for the love of her Rider; it wouldn't take them very long at all anyway, would it. She seemed to skim into their weyr just as Ulians helpers were leaving, and they settled easily onto her unharnessed shoulders--as dangerous as it might've been to ride her in such a way, side-seat and all. She was ever graceful and mindful with her burden, however, dropping lightly from their weyr and gliding across the Bowl to where people were gathering in earnest. They'd removed their knots, but the Weyrfolk at the curtain still gave them an amused smile and waved them through, what was the point in looking under this mask? Rivath snaked her way in through the crowd to take a quick peek at the Candidates--to let them know that they should know that she saw them seeing her, but she quickly scurried back out again to leave the bustling insides for the two-leggers.

There was someone waiting for her, she knew it. She knew a lot of things.

She wavered in the bowl her eyes gleaming in the deepening night of all the colours in the known world, and then she sprang up into the dark and flittered away to a smooth open spot on the Weyrwall to wait for him. She was not waiting long. A chirp issued from her delicate snout when he landed, and she reached out to graze her teeth harmlessly against his neck in greeting before reaching with her own delicate tiny forepaws to accept his gift. youseethestars she whispered softly as she read it, read the hundred thousand words she saw there, and read it again with Ulian's help--divided though it may have been as they found W'ryn far below in the distant cavern.

i love every word because they are from you and i see me in every line, but the lines of me the most, it is precious and it was, she was so gentle with it oh it is me and i will dance, am always dancing she cooed, her hind legs doing a little hop even as she lifted Earth's goldentine clear of any scraping rocks and held it close, but that wasn't all. A wingarm swung forward to expose a pouch that hung on her narrow wing-thumb. Heavy, it tugged at her, and held something the size of a human head. In fact, she could not remove it with her mouth as a larger dragon might have, but she was nimble--so instead she carefully placed Earth's bright Goldentine carefully atop the bag where it would not get mangled, then deftly removed her own from within. it is not paper she warned, though the swirl of her eyes did not make it clear on whether she was apologetic.

What she held out could not be less like paper, it was in fact quartz, or had been, a large quartz at one point. Now it was a sphere polished to smoothness that shined like a tiny moon in her claws where it captured the hue of her hide that lay beneath it. Within were cracks, striations, and inclusions of other stones and hues. Some green, some orange, some hexagonal, some linear. All manner of things for which she had no name, but may have been told at one point by one Smith or another that she might someday call out at no reasonable time for no apparent reason. It was, simply, her gift to him. my Ulian says some traders look into them for...finding things. Seeing thingslikestarsinthesky. Like I see things like you see things my mountain she warbled at him a sweet song all her own. i thought if you looked into it it might capture all your thoughts for you

W'ryn had not been forced to wait very long either, though Ulian had been stopped only a handful of times to accept remarks about their mask or attire--not a costume, they assured them. Obvious visitors from the Holds. They settled in to a chair beside the Bluerider--who had not been so easy to spot save for the hair--and seemed to puff much like a bird as their flowing fabric spilled around them and their sparkling beaded hair cascaded down their shoulders. They quirked their head to the side to add to the effect. "Hello there, stranger," they murmured softly.

@Tobes

- - -


It had been over a turn since the Blackrider had found him, plucked him from the darkness he was lost in, and started him back on something that resembled a path. The past four seasons had been remarkably kind to him, even when they'd tried their very best to be unkind. His son had not only Impressed, and then nearly been killed, but survived both the Impression and the plague. He had survived the plague, as had the man who had done the rescuing in the first place. Had this been any other turn...it would not have been so, Sebolaren was certain. Sesk was a bright happy green as she chased him through the weyr they all shared, and he even let her get away with it, though it was time to get ready for the festivities. "The children made it just for you, it'll be adorable," he coerced as he tried, again, to approach her as if she were a flighty mare in season with the odd leather mask from the creche.

NO WANT Sesk hollared, though there was mirth in her mindvoice, no good for hunt and see, no good, Sesk think Sesk's wear wher mask make ugly mug much prettiest yes? YES! "No--no," but it was too late, Sesk was hopping around now chanting hide ugly mug! hide ugly mug! a phrase for 'face' she had apparently learned at one point or another and was now trying on for the first time. It was to be expected, she'd had a large part of her life stolen away from her by his broken spirits, and now that he seemed relatively free again, she was living life to the fullest. Perhaps, he wagered, on the off chance that death crept up again.

It was never too far out of his mind. He'd been spending most of his time in the Stables focusing on his Craft. It was an odd sort of thing to focus on, considering it had killed his dragon so many turns ago, but he had always felt safe there--aside from that brief moment in time. The smells were comforting, the animals were kinder than people most of the time, and he understood them better. It was a nice place to be during Fall, when he couldn't look up and see the flash of dragonfire and wonder if it would be the last time. Perhaps that was why he'd embraced the Moon Masque so completely. In fact, he'd rather broken the traditional parts of the celebration and had begun sending his goldentines early.

Every day, for the past twenty-eight days, a goldentine had been delivered into B'er's hands by a different firelizard from the Wherhandler's fair--the final one having been delivered by the newest member, the soon-to-be one turn old Gene. They had, all of them, found their own way of accomplishing their mission, such as little Lila who handed it off but then spent the rest of the day loving on B'er no matter how much he may have tried to be rid of her because that's just how important he obviously was to everyone, okay? Although that had to be better than Sigard, who had screamed at B'er as if angry that this fling was still a thing, and then chucked it at the man's face because he still had to follow orders even if they were super dumb orders--that one still hadn't really adjusted after all these turns. Sebol was very apologetic.

Yet no matter in what manner they were delivered, they were in fact delivered. They were simple, shiny golden paper--however the Crafters produced that, with simple words on them, yet they were words that meant everything to Sebolaren. You keep my heart beating, said one, You are the air I breathe, said another. You are the Rukbat in my sky. Of course they were all sweet, but occasionally they were also something else. The sound you make, is the only song I need was sent one day. I love your thickness came another day. You're soft on the inside was there another day. Quickly followed by so am I...for you. Then came you make my heart throb. Twenty-eight days of love and...other loves...carried on another type of loves--one for each one, mostly so they wouldn't squabble over doing so.

Today was the day though, and that meant it had to be special, and special meant that "you need to wear this mask right now." Sesk stopped where she had been bouncing in her fit, dropped her chest to the ground, and charged straight at him. He barely had time to prepare before she trampled him with all six feet of her body, and all six feet of her tail. Twelve feet of wher was just way, way too much wher. "Do it...for...the good...man" he managed to wheeze out between her paws forcing the air out of his lungs as she circled on him and then dropped down as if he was her own personal nest. O-kay. Sesk do for Sesk's Sebol's manmate she agreed before pushing her snaggle-toothed snout into the mask in his limp hand.

"Get...off"

What felt like many moons later, when B'er made it back to their abode, and the first thing he would hear as he came in was a hushed "shhh he's coming, get ready, get ready" and an annoyed houghing which could only be Sesk, or maybe Sesk had learned to speak in the interim. When the pair finally came into view, the Blackrider would find them boy shining from oil, though whether that was intentional or the Green had put up a good fight--well, that was debatable. Considering Sebolaren was dressed only in an elaborate wooden mask carved to look like leaves, and a simple loincloth...it may have been intentional. Sesk had struck a pose herself, in fact they both, surrounded by flickering candles, appeared to be ready to slay a mighty beast...or run off into the wilderness in a fit of insanity.

It probably didn't help that Sesk's mask had been made by crechechildren and resembled something between a fish and an insect, with dangling leg-like strips of all colours everywhere. No matter how amusing it might've looked, it was still serious to the Wherhandler, and Sebol was quick to go down on his knees in front of his weyrmate holding up the final goldentine he had to share. It was only a little bit oily, but the inside had been preserved as it had been written earlier in the day. This one, delivered by him and no other, he couldn't help but smile. "I figure if you don't feel like going down there, we can share our own dance up here," he whispered softly as if even the walls were listening. The egg he held may as well have been his heart, it said, quite simply; I am yours, unconditionally and forever, until my last breath.

If B'er happened to turn it over, there would be a scratch there, a very Sesk-like scratch, and it is her, she says 'no'.

@RhiaBlack

- - -


She was wrapped in fire from neck to knee in a pillar of orange and crimson silk that twined tightly around her slender frame, save for her her tawny shoulders and arms the latter of which seemed to carry a dusky red undertone--a permanent brand of her craft. For once her hair was not held back by scarves, and instead bounced in reckless coils over the sharpness of her shoulders before tumbling to mid-back. A mask sat high on her dark coif, currently more crown than concealment, but even there it seemed slightly sinister. It was layers of coiled metallic hide, scraps from a turn of work that had been tooled into a cover of flame that twisted and reached forming tusks, and tines and all manner of points. It bounced atop her head as she strode across the Infirmary. It was a relatively quiet night in a relatively quiet season, but Yrsavild kept track more than most; they were due for a Queen rising, and those hatchings were rarely boring. It could be tomorrow, it could be a turn from now, but it was not tonight, and tonight was all that mattered.

Already she could hear the festivities in the next cavern over, the sound carried in echos through the tunnels, not to mention the gathering crowd coming and going outside. Within the enormous space of the Infirmary that was her home, it was mostly peaceful. Only a handful of the Expedition goers remained in recovery, and very few dragons--those injured mainly in Flights and the whims of female dragons. There was little reason to stay and ignore what was happening beyond the scope of her world, even when she was more comfortable here. Her pace did not slow until she found H'ler and stopped alongside him; she challenged his height, probably only an inch shorter than him, though her hair more than made up for it on most days.

This day, however, she had the added edge of slightly impractical footwear. It was a rare occurrence that saw her in the vaulted metal heel made so fashionable by the Holderwomen but spurned by those that had legitimate duties, yet there was something powerful about standing easily over six feet tall around men who regularly used height as a measurement for other less-accessible body parts. Those too, were red, and ascended to above her knee. They had probably been perfectly serviceable riding boots long ago, but had been ruined at one point or another before she had claimed them at a Gather. She had to admit, they did wonders for certain parts to which women liked attention drawn, and she was not as oblivious to that fact as she may have let on.

"This is for you," she told him simply, gently setting her goldentine to him within his hands. And it was golden, in more ways than one, but it was not paper. Like fishscales, but in octogons, she had carefully sewn many facets of a wher's eye into a three-dimensional egg, and filled it with glittering metals, grains of sand, and small shiny stones, all sourced from the Weyr itself. Though of course, not pilfered. It all at once seemed delicate, but formidable, and shone in the light when turned this way and that not unlike a wher's own eye would. Perhaps she would have gifted that instead, if she could have found a way to make it glisten after death. "Perhaps if you are not too busy I will have the pleasure of not recognizing you at the celebration tonight," she let that hang in the air only a moment before she pulled her mask down and let the distant sounds of music guide her across the expanse of the cavern.

@Rii


*click for plot page*
user posted image
PM
^
Rii
 Posted: Feb 12 2018, 12:50 PM
Quote
Jr. Weyrwoman





Idea Factory


2396 Posts
307 Marks
Member Inventory: View




N'oir picked his way through the gathered people of the Weyr, listening to the gay songs that the harpers supplied for those dancing, and those simply listening while they ate and talked and laughed. A part of him wanted very much to join them, but... he stifled a sigh. Work and worry first, and he could try to scrape up the heart to enjoy it afterwards, but he didn't think he'd be able to.

Leaning against the wall, he listened to song after song, and waited for his chance. Offers to dance were politely declined, if not always honestly - sore foot - couldn't dance a step - so sorry, perhaps in a few nights. The pinkrider was inconspicuous enough in muted blues and greys, his mask painted mottled shades of the same. It certainly wasn't designed to stick to one's memory. He had a different set for later in the celebrations, if he ever did get to feel like it was party time.

The raggedy like-a-drudge harper finally came down off the stand where they'd collected to make music, and he silently thanked whatever greater powers might exist because every moment that passed was one he'd been worried that someone else would discover his friend's break in the rules, and then he'd be in trouble. Giving it a minute, he eased off the wall and followed, waiting in the dim hallway for the man to come back from a trip to the necessary.

Finally. N'oir waited until he was close. "Fine songs, harper," he told him softly, reaching out and snaring his arm in one hand to draw him close. "I thank you for that." Impulsively, he leaned forward, tilting his head and brushing his lips against Xe'rik's softly, breathing the words against them. "I know you want to be no one, but you'll only put more eyes on you instead of less this way." Taking a small package wrapped in cloth from his tunic - a blueweyrling's knots hidden within - he pressed it into Xel's hands, then spun away, hoping to escape before any questions started. Like why, for example, because he wasn't sure he had the answer.

***

Ler had waffled over whether or not he was going to these nonsensical nights of wasting time and rubbing shoulders with far too many people in the name of a silly tradition. What did people gain out of all this? It seemed so... well... blast it all, he'd already used silly and nonsensical and it wouldn't do to use the same descriptor twice.

He'd made a goldentine for Yrsavild, though. Grumbling and fussing over it the whole time, it had been made of stiffened hide instead of paper, painstakingly decorated with complicated patterns of shiny beads, with his awkward note written inside. It was, he decided, probably the dumbest goldentine ever made, but he'd done it anyway and no one had to know but him and its recipient. He'd had Kayle deliver it for him because there was no way in the deepest darkest coldest night between that he was going to give it to her face-to-face.

Which made him blush like a beet when Yrsavild caught him just outside the dining hall to hand him hers. And it was magnificent. "Th... thanks," he muttered, stammering over the word a bit. He was turning it around in his hands when her... invitation? Hint? met his ears, and he looked at her like she'd turned into one of the giant snakes from the southern jungles. "Maybe. Maybe." Well then.

Faranth damn it. Now he needed a mask.

@Ruin


PMAIM
^
Ruriko
 Posted: Feb 12 2018, 06:08 PM
Quote
Weyrlingmaster





N/A


531 Posts
110 Marks
Member Inventory: View




OOC: tossing ALL of mine in here, so anyone can feel free to have at them! I'll just do short intros for them, what they are wearing and a link to their masks. The only ones with longer posts will be for people who agreed prior to go with them.

Nymeria - @Ruin

She wasn't much one for fancying up and going to things like this. The amount of people alone made her wary. Still, she'd casually asked A'ndel if he wanted to go to the 'stupid thing'. Then, her curiosity getting the better of her as to what it was all about, she'd asked if he wanted to go with her so she didn't stand around feeling out of place. He'd agreed, thank Faranth. She kind of wanted to see what all the fuss was about. Not cool that she was going to be expected to dress up and all. Still, she supposed if she got herself some kind of mask, it might be all right. She'd gotten the mask. It was supposed to be modeled after a feline, and it was kind of cool, if you liked that sort of thing. Better than some of the frilly, fancy and super colorful and flamboyant ones she'd passed over, nose scrunched up in distaste.

As she entered the dining hall and her eyes grew wide. Shells, but there were a lot of people. She was dressed in all black, with a choker studded with fake stones to compliment the outfit. Boots that came up to just under the knee with a slight heel on them, and the dress matched the mask--a black lace overlay on the skirt, and black lace from the bust up and over the shoulders at front and back. She never normally dressed like this, but if she had to, she wasn't wearing something with a lot of bright colors. She had put on little kohl and gloss on her lips, but make-up wasn't her thing, either. The point was to blend in, and she knew how to blend in.

"So this was what all the fuss was about, huh?" She'd spotted A'ndel by the corner they'd agreed to meet up in, and folded her arms over her chest. Savanna was supposed to come, too, but Aren's sister had said she was going to go with her friend, Lerian. Whoever that was, Nym did know. Not that it mattered. She carried a side bag--one that passed for a fancy purse. A small head peeked out the top--her pine marten, Pantalaimon, was hardly up to being left behind. Echith had wanted to go, too, only he was too big and had settled for staying behind with Gan.




Savanna - @Tigersilk

She felt guilty for not having hung out much with Lerian lately. She'd avoided her friend the same as she'd avoided everyone else. Her brother, too. So, she'd sent a goldentine asking the other girl if she wanted to go to the masque with her. Since she was officially a candidate now, it would be the first turn she was actually allowed to wear a mask, and that was a little exciting, at least.

The mask she wore was white and pink with silver, and was perhaps not so complex as many of the masks she would see at the masquerade. Yet she was young and it was pretty. She'd had help to make it, but she was proud of the fact that, for the most part, it was of her own making. It matched her dress, which was pink with white. Turning to Lerian, she offered a nervous smile. This was far more people than she'd been around in a long time, save for the hatching. It wasn't so bad, though. While her pillies had stayed behind, she'd had to bring along Amaterasu. Ammy was too young to stay behind and she was in training. She had the icehowler close at her side, on a lead. She was growing rapidly, and soon she would be able to ride the creature, like A'ndel did with Arceus. They were both excited for that, she figured.

"You look pretty, Ler," she offered, turning to her friend fully, talking to steady her nerves, and maybe because Lerian might be a little nervous, too. Was she the only one? She didn't want to be. "Do you want to dance or people watch?" They'd done much 'people watching' in the past. She pondered a moment, lightly chewing the inside of her cheek. "We could try and guess who's who," she suggested. That game, at least to her, was a welcome distraction and could be fun!




Dhiren - @Ivy

He'd had to at least chance asking her to go with him. He hazarded it, in that cool, quiet confident way that he had, as if there was no doubt in his mind that she'd say 'yes'. Only there had been a risk that someone had already asked her. That she might say no. He'd asked her 'as friends', of course. He couldn't ask her as anything else.

As he stood there, listening to their newest Candidatemaster going over the rules, he couldn't help but resist raising an eyebrow at one thing she said. Chaste, sibling-like kiss? So, not hot and heavy, but they were permitted to kiss? Ulian had said no sex. As though the whiterider was drawing the line at that, and giving them at least something...but just how much of something? A soft, brief kiss--and she'd said kisses, not just kiss--was all he needed, really. Hand holding and dancing were allowed. He understood the risks to a bonded if he were to cross a line. He wouldn't even be kissing if he had a wher of his own. Still...she'd given him more than she knew.

He had a mask picked out, of course. It wasn't overly extravagant like some tended towards, yet most of the men's mask's were not. They were simpler, with less embellishments. Besides, he wanted her to be able to see him. He'd shown her the mask, and told her what he'd be wearing. Sent her a goldentine, too.

I quite thoroughly enjoy your company.

If you enjoy mine, as well, how about coming with me to the moon masque?

Ever your friend and subordinate,

Dhiren


He could never resist a bit of humor with her. While he was more reserved around most people, save his lax, easy and amiable ability to talk to all quite easily and with civility, with Norla...well, he was more himself. It was easier, though he couldn't have quite said why. He knew he was interested in her, but also knew that they'd be going to this as friends, if she accepted. Now, as he stood in his mask and waited for her arrival to the dining hall, he wondered what she'd be wearing. His clothing matched his mask, a dark, dark shade of purple that was almost black, against a stark white undershirt. He looked handsome, but for her was the effort put in. No one else.




Rosian - @Mopsy93, @Boo, @Catsitta

Rosian didn't know too many of the weyrbrats very well. She spent so much time with her parents, that now, at six turns of age--nearly seven--she was finding she wanted to branch out and make friends. The first weyrbrat she'd send a goldentine to was Hilrat.

Hello Hilrat,

I hope you get a lot of goldentines. I want to go with friends to the moon masque. Would you like to come with me? I will ask Peiyn and Cessalia too. I asked you first because you are my first friend.

Rosian


She was not allowed to wear a mask, but her mother had helped her write her goldentines and done a bit of face paint on her face. She had wanted to be sparkly and to match Stitch. So her mother had done her best, and the little girl donned a pale blue and white dress with blue and silvery designs painted on her face, and a pair of 'wings' made to go on her back. Her usual trio of pets was with her, Stitch on Knight's back and gin on her shoulder. She had told them to meet her at a certain entrance, and waited patiently, hoping that they would all come. She wasn't sure they would, but they at least had been invited. She had sent, respectively, to Peiyn and Cess,

Hi Peiyn,

I have asked Hilrat to come to the moon masque and would like for you to come, too. It was fun making masks with you. We can all have fun together! I hope you got many goldentines,

Rosian


and also,

Hello Cess,

Would you like to come to the moon masque with me? I have invited two other weyrbrats but I would like it if you also came. It will be fun! I hope you got lots of goldentines and you come, too,

Rosian


They were lovingly written and decorated with her best efforts, and she was very hopeful that they'd all come. Her mother told her that maybe they might not, but at least she knew Hilrat would. She would be quite sad if no one came at all.
PMEmail
^
Catsitta
 Posted: Feb 12 2018, 09:05 PM
Quote
Weyrlingmaster





N/A


846 Posts
0 Marks
Member Inventory: View




Zen entered the dining hall with a smirk on his lips and a swagger in his step. Gathers and festivities were his style. Any excuse to gussy up in flamboyant finery was one he would embrace. In what he considered fashionably heeled boots and a sky blue outfit, Zeniro was far from demure. He couldn't afford some of the more outlandish accents that some could, but a few glass beads adoringly stitched across his chest added some needed sparkle. He spent many sleepless nights fashioning his gilded mask, and it was utterly dragonish. There were even twisty headknobs peeking up from the top. Happily, the journeyman harper flitted from person to person, crowd to crowd, eager to engage in conversation, dancing or flirtation. Men and women both were subjected to his outrageous manner tonight as he waxed poetic about whatever caught his eye. Did they have a partner? That was fine. He would compliment them too. He even invited one couple to dance with him. It was a grand event!

But what was this? A lovely lady sitting all by herself? Now that just wouldn't do!

Maneuvering his way through the press, he flounced to the young woman and flashed a charming smile. Well, it might have been if it was visible. Masks did have their downsides.

"Hello m'lady, mind if I have this dance? I couldn't possibly allow a lovely maiden such as yourself sit here all by herself." Zeniro dropped his voice, deepening it with as much sensuality as he could offer. This woman obviously suffered given her grisly scars, but he wasn't one to judge upon appearances. Missing a hand or no, she deserved to be adored.

@Captain (Zaela) - ( If she accepts, I am fine with a separate thread. He won't be offended if she tells him off. )


This was weird. Crowds and festivities weren't exactly her favorite thing. But Zelsk insisted that Zel do more...of whatever this was considered. She felt ridiculous. Wearing the only finery she owned, a copper and gold affair that was as outspoken as the wher she bonded, Zel sat quietly near the entrance of the dining hall. Her knots were fixed to her outfit, signifying her status as a wherling, meaning that even wearing a mask, she wasn't 'incognito'. This whole event was silly. Overwhelming even. The glittery thing she wore on her face was made by crechebrats (since crafts weren't exactly her thing...) and didn't exactly help her feel 'in place'. There were so many more elaborate costumes and masks. So many strange and beautiful things. It was extravagant and surreal.

Maybe she should just hurry up and finish eating. Then she could leave.

Nerves, however, made eating a slow process.

No matter how much Zelsk assured her that she wouldn't let Zel attend without looking her best, she just...It wasn't her scene. At least no one had asked for a dance yet. She'd probably trip or step on their toes or something. Her mind drifted to the goldentines in her room. She should deliver those soon.

.OPEN.


PMEmail
^
Ruriko
 Posted: Feb 12 2018, 09:06 PM
Quote
Weyrlingmaster





N/A


531 Posts
110 Marks
Member Inventory: View




Lu'ka - @Ivy

OOC: If this is not all right, Ivy, just let me know and I'll change it. c:

T'vis had asked if he was planning to go with anyone to the moon masque, and if he'd be interested in going as friends. He'd sent the grayrider a goldentines. He'd made few real friends here and T'vis was probably the closest person to him here, in truth. Not only had Reith Searched him, but he'd spent more time talking in full, meaningful conversations to the other young man than he had to anyone in his weyrling class, even.

He had picked out a mask that matched his simple but rather nice looking outfit--a black pair of soft leather trousers and a white silken shirt. He didn't really have anyone to impress. Still, he figured since everyone else there was going to be dressed to the nines, he might as well also put the effort in to look his best.

He made sure to not wear a mask that was too difficult to recognize him in, and waited near the entrance of the dining hall for his friend. For some reason he couldn't quite place, he was feeling a little nervous. The feeling had persisted all through getting ready, as he double checked his hair, and Selath sent feelings of his own amusement. What was there to be nervous about? He was sure it was a pointless feeling, simply there for no reason. Nonetheless, it persisted. It only got worse the longer he waited for T'vis to arrive. He distracting himself by admiring the awesome outfits and masks of those around him. This was really something!




Malika - @Caliska

Her dress was golden, and she felt like a queen. It was a gift from her grandparents, and she felt pretty in it. It was a strange feeling for the Smith. She knew that she ought not feel pride in her appearance. Appearance meant nothing, after all. It was a fleeting thing, and told nothing about what a person was truly like. So, while she walked proudly into the dining hall, feeling that at least she would not pale horribly in comparison with the others there, she tried to remind herself of that. She was far from conceited or vain, after all. Perhaps there was little wrong with thinking that the dress and the mask she had been gifted marks from Malik and Mablevi to buy were flattering.

Being a Smith, she was hard muscle and while not bulky in any way, she was possessed of a strong looking body. It was not often she ever felt feminine. Today, she decided, she did. Perhaps that was not so bad a thing. She had sent a goldentines to the only person she had somewhat befriended here: Caliska. She had sent some 'home' to her grandparents, begging leave to utilize a firelizard of someone else's to do so. Lately, she had been thinking a firelizard would do her much good. To Caliska, she had sent,

Good day to you,

I wish to attend the approaching masque, but do not have anyone with which to go. I swallow my pride and admit there are vtols swarming my stomach to think of going alone. I have been gifted a dress and bought a mask. It would do shame to my grandparent's gift to not use them for their intended purpose. If you would do me the honor of attending as a friend, I would be most indebted to you. Many thanks and may rukbat shine bright upon you,

Malika


Caliska had agreed, thankfully--much to Malika's great relief. She would have gone alone, if only for the use of the dress and mask, and to tell her grandparents she indeed had. Yet she would find little comfort in having entered the hall alone, rather than knowing Caliska would be waiting there for her. She spotted the young woman in the mask and clothing she had informed her she would be wearing, in the appointed spot. She felt relief flood her body like a cooling drink on a hot day.

"Good evening. May I get us something to drink?" 'Friend' was never a term she used lightly. Even now, she was tentative. Friendship was precious to her people. Very precious. To call someone friend was to make a promise to that person. Caliska would not, perhaps, hold friendship in the same high regard. It was a promise to have their back. To be there should they need. To not fail them. To honor and respect them, and to accept them, good and bad. Friendship did not end simply because one had quarrel. It was something to work on, and build, always. It was about trust, and honesty. It was about sharing and learning together. Yes...she had written friend. It would be dishonorable to now treat Caliska as otherwise.




Taylei - @summerrain, @Lynn, OPEN FOR DRAGON/WHER/FLIT/CHILD FACE PAINTING!

She hadn't many people to send goldentines to, and yet she had two girls that she'd met in the kitchens that she'd thought of. Adaya and Silvyre had seemed nice enough, and if they hadn't anyone to go with, she'd invited them to meet up with her where the face painting of dragons, whers, firelizards and children was being done--the firelizards that would sit still for it, that was. Dragons and whers were actually the easiest, in truth! Bigger canvases, and they didn't get to wear masks, so many seemed to be requesting facial decorations of their own.

She wore a mask of her own, and a pretty cyan and gold dress to match it. She knew the girls would know where she was, and was more than content to--carefully!--be working on painting faces of all kinds! Still, she was eager to have the two arrive, hopefully, and show them how they might join in the fun, if they wanted to!
PMEmail
^
RhiaBlack
 Posted: Feb 12 2018, 09:56 PM
Quote
Senior Weyrleader





Wrangler of Muses


3964 Posts
90 Marks
Member Inventory: View




[I would strongly prefer for some of these to branch off into new threads elsewhere, if possible, as I have a lot of trouble keeping up with my posts in threads with a ton of peeps; that being said, if people are inundated and it's easier to keep track of chars for you in one thread, I can suck it up and deal XD. Most of mine are present, but I'm only tagging in a couple of them here. The rest, if you want them, please tag me and let me know. Hargrove is present, working the event as his usual Drudge self, sans mask. Also, not bolded dialogue because this post is huge and Rhia is lazy af.]

Z'dyn shifted where he lingered at the hearth, having promised to be there when X'vir showed up. He'd invited the Brownrider, after all. The first time he'd actually stepped out of his comfort zone in order to try and branch out, try and make some connections ever since Da'on's departure. His life, short of workload, was effectively seeming to fall apart by the day. It was worrisome at even the best of times, and crippling at the worst, given in one season, his youngest remaining son would be 10 turns old, and Ulian's charge.

The premise of an empty weyr, as well as an empty bed, terrified Z'dyn far more than Thread or any wild Wher. Of all his greatest fears, being alone was one of the worst of them, and aging as he was by the day, he believed it wouldn't be long before finding anyone remotely attracted to him would be nearly impossible.

Sometimes it would be more than soul-crushing, if he wasn't already so devoted to work. Ultimately, like most things, he tried not to let it get to him. The wine helped, when it did, and he'd been about an hour into the event, and well into his second glass, when the Brownrider showed up.

Zeke made no secret of the very-subtle shift of his head, eyes sweeping the other man's substantially taller frame, then diverting back to his face. People were going to talk, they always did. Why, did you see the Senior Weyrleader, fraternizing with that new Transfer? After his trio of lovers transferred out? Really, are you serious, sleeping with not one, but THREE married men? Does he have any standards at all? And I heard his own spouses left, it must have been downright terrible, really, for them to leave with all the children!

Z'dyn steeled his nerves, the state of his stomach in turmoil as he interlaced his arms with a hand holding what was left of the second glass of Benden Red.

He turned his back to the room, keeping whatever conversation was happening between himself and X'vir, largely a secret.

@Captain

Kyzekeidon had come at his father's behest. His brother, Keivhyn, had also come; both boys were in masks, the younger of the pair more than excited by the prospect, but still as yet too young - at only nine turns - to do much more than mill about with his brother and get into things. Both boys had stuck by Z'dyn when they'd arrived, but ultimately Keivhyn had vanished into the throng of children from the Creche, looking for his handful of friends there, while Kyzekeidon had opted to raid the feast table and get some snacks.

Rust was in his room; the pup had been fed, and Ky had left him to sleep off a full stomach and afternoon romp in favor of not dragging the growing Icehowler out into the crowd. After all, there were plenty of people here, and the last thing he wanted to do was cause a ruckus or otherwise panic the multi-hued still-a-puppy.

Ky had a mask of his own, made of clay and painted, and was reasonably dressed in a nice black shirt, olive-green dress, black slacks, and wherhide boots. His hair, uncharacteristic to his usual style, was finger-braided like his father's - something either Z'dyn had done, or Jyderin had. The sleeves were rolled, in order to keep them clean; Jubilee had opted to stick with Rust, so the Candidate was largely on his own for the evening. Sticking within line of sight of his father, despite the fact Z'dyn was far more interested in X'vir at the moment, he made himself a plate, and went to find somewhere to sit once he'd gotten a mug of klah.

@Ruriko

Armon had been all too excited to attend the Moon Masque with his wife. Jali had been adamant about them going, and though it wasn't terribly hard to get the now-Master Smith to go with her, he'd be lying if he hadn't said there was a bit of apprehension in him. Important matters, he reasoned, would be something she told him in private, wouldn't they? He could only worry that it was bad news, but the longer they were at the event, the more it seemed to bring him ease. She hadn't stopped smiling all night, from what he could tell. It had to be good news, didn't it?

His mask was a bit more full-face than some, but like his wife, he stepped behind the panel and revealed himself as was necessary. Naturally, he maintained his knots; everyone would know him simply because he was with Jali, all the same. He didn't mind, of course. It was all in good fun, and if Armon liked nothing more, it was spending time among those he worked with every day.

She handed him a Goldentine, and he looked momentarily perplexed, but then he read it.
And then read it again.
And the words sank in, and his eyes widened.

"You're pregnant? Jali, you're pregnant, I'm going to be a father?!" Armon dropped everything he'd been carrying in his hands - his wine glass, his plate, everything, both hands clutching the leaf with a look of absolute astonishment, before he looked from it, to her, to her stomach, to the Goldentine.

And then promptly swept her up in his arms, and spun her around.

"I'M GOING TO BE A PAPA!"

The glee and absolute amazement wasn't missed in his voice, and he laughed so loud and so richly, it earned the smiles and some not-so-happy looks from people around them.

"BY FARANTH WE DID IT!"

He squeezed her tight - careful about her stomach - before he simply held on to her. Their child. They were having a baby, they were finally doing it. She would finally be a mom again, and Armon was absolutely over the moon, tears welling in the Igenite's eyes as he spun her around again.

"I'm going to be a father, what is this, I need to make a crib, I need to talk to the Weavers about clothes, I need to talk to the Tanners about furs, we need to get a mattress for her, him, there's so much we need to do, there's so...how long do you have? Are you needing to go on bedrest, did they say? I don't want you to overdo it, we don't need to risk anything, I'll carry you if I have to..."

@Rii


B'er was confused. Really confused.
Okay, well, not so much REALLY confused - he liked the fact that Sebol thought enough of him to hit him with a Goldentine every day for the last month, that was incredibly sweet, and B'er had already put all of them but the last one away to be framed and hung in their weyr, call him a hopeless romantic if you wanted to - but certainly a little bit flabberghasted.

Especially when the 'thickness' one had come about. His sharding face still turned all kinds of horrible colors when he even thought about it, let alone what it did to the rest of him. Insufferable sharding man, that one, but the longer they were together, the more B'er was smitten with him.

Sesk was looking so much better, and into so many more things than she used to be, but he wouldn't trade it for the world, really. He preferred the Green healthy, because she was essentially a barometer when it came to how healthy Sebolaren was. Healthy Sesk, was healthy Sebol, and he was pleased more than anything else when both of them started putting weight back on. When he could no longer feel Sebol's hip-bones and butt-bones when they laid with one another, when he could no longer reasonably lay still in bed with the other man against him, worryingly counting his ribs through the too-thin expanse of his lover's skin.

B'er worried about everything, really, but he worried about Sebolaren most of all. Second only, really, to his siblings. His siblings would always be a point of worry, in truth, because B'er was more father-figure to them, than their own unfortunate sperm donor ever would be.

B'er, too, had thrown himself full-force into his Craft, when not flying the Falls. Winter months were spent in the forges when Sebol insisted on spending time in the Stables, and incidentally the Blackrider had quietly sent his tiny black firelizard to investigate the Greenhandler to make sure his beloved man was still doing alright.

Because B'er always worried.

He'd gotten used to sharing that man with the immense fair of pets Sebol had obtained; Rlyeth, in every expanse, seemed to enjoy having much tinier minions to send to and fro, tasking the fair with any number of small things and jobs to do so that they would leave Theirs in some manner of peace. That being said, there was no shortage to the times B'er woke with a slathering of small dragonkin sprawled across various places on their bed.

Now, approaching his weyr to net his boyfriend and the Green that called him Hers, B'er was adjusting the finishing touches on his own mask and trying to decide if he was using the gold-filligreed undershirt for his black vest and slacks, or the light green one that matched Sesk's hide. It was a hard decision, one made harder by how good both looked with the matches-his-mask gold and black cufflinks.

He heard the whispering, and raised a brow behind the elaborate gold, silver, and black mask - one that hid nothing of who he was, but was pretty nevertheless. The door was gently pushed open, and he rolled his bottom lip inwards to bite it and desperately try to hide both the humor in the appearance of his beloved duo, as well as the arousal. What, Sebol in oil had potentially been a bit of a fantasy of the crippled man, so sue him!

Dark eyes drank in his long-concerning prize like a glass of water he hadn't realized how desperately he'd needed it; this handsome, beautiful creature that had been plucked from near-death by a man who never quite understood just how close to 'untimely demise' that Sebol had truly been. He looked from the man, who sank to his knees in front of B'er, and then to Sesk, and then to the offered Goldentine.

He swept the inscription there, then flipped it over, read the back, and squinted at Sesk accusationally, but nevertheless with warmth in his expression. One hand tucked the Goldentine into his vest pocket, the Sesk-green shirt a sharp contrast, as he reached down and settled both now-empty hands against the sides of Sebol's jawline. Very, very carefully, as B'er's hip was reputed to not be the best at upholding his weight without the use of his brace and cane - and even then, it was iffy - he settled his lips in a slow, warm brush over those belonging to his weyrmate.

"The choice is yours," he spoke up finally, "But if we're going downstairs, I suffer to think other people will get to see your ass in the same respects as I do." B'er craned over Sebol's shoulder, taking in the Greenhandler's backside. If it was covered, there was substantially more relief to the Blackrider's expression. "But I also know this is reputably "What Sebol Does", so I'm inclined to leave the choice up to you." He bit Sebol's bottom lip lightly, and growled. "I blame her for oiling you up, that's a level of unfair I'm frankly disturbed by. Your wher has been haunting my nightmares. Or Rlyeth has been telling her, either way." A gentle swat of Sebol's backside.

"If we're going downstairs, remind me to bring some sweetrolls back for Sesk, for after all of us are up here. So she," he looked pointedly at the Green. "Leaves mine the shards alone."

@Ruin


PM
^
Ruriko
 Posted: Feb 12 2018, 10:27 PM
Quote
Weyrlingmaster





N/A


531 Posts
110 Marks
Member Inventory: View




Azaril - @Rowana

Hello Ly'on,

It has been a while, but I hope you and Gruyeth are well!

I was wondering if you would like to attend an evening of the moon masque with me. I fear I've not made many friends here and my Master is encouraging me to ask someone I have met around my own age to go. I hope it's not bothersome of me to ask you! If you have other arrangements I understand. My Master is standing over my shoulder, and says that you are free to say 'no' and it should not be a bother, but thank you for your consideration!

Azaril


If her Master had not forced her to send a few goldentines and to write one as an invite, there was no way the shy fifteen turn old girl could have done it. Plus, he'd suggested inviting a boy--though as friends, of course.

Azaril could think of no one she wasn't going to die a little inside trying to ask. Then she'd recalled the nice viridianrider boy, Ly'on. He'd been really sweet, and though he was younger than her by a couple of turns, he was someone she wouldn't at all have minded being friends with. So, she'd shakily written her goldentine, her Master staring over her shoulder all the while. She had nearly smudged it in a few places, due to her shaking hand, but it was barely noticeable, at least...

She had been relieved, and all the more nervous, when the acceptance arrived. She hadn't been sure what Ly'on would say--but he was sweet, after all, and she felt that maybe he knew she was shy--as if it wasn't painfully obvious. Her Master reminded her all the time it was something she needed to work on to be a successful Harper one day. Her biggest weakness. Now, as she stood there in a pretty dress and the mask she'd commissioned Peiyn, a weyrbrat of all of perhaps seven turns at most, to make, she rocked back and forth lightly on her heels, feeling nervous. At least the mask had actually turned out quite pretty. Not as extravagant as some, but it had more sentimentality than it would have if she'd simply gone for a crafter or trader made one. Bringing Cereza to such a crowded place would not have been a great idea. Alucard, her iron, watched over the red at home. However, she could not leave Fenris, her icehowler pup, behind. The three month old pup was not a burden she'd have placed on anyone to watch for her. She had asked a fellow apprentice who got one well with Naga to watch her and Pabu for the evening. She wasn't wanting to go the first night, as she had too much catching up on Harper lessons she had to do--she'd been slacking. At least she was happy for the company of the large, fluffy white pup and the ferret.

At her side on a leash, Fenrir was sniffing the air at every person who passed. He was remarkably calm for so young a 'howler, but he was very reserved by nature, she'd found. She didn't feel so alone waiting for Ly'on here in the appointed spot with the large pup by her side, at least. Still, her nerves were frayed. She didn't do so well in large crowds. She was actually eager for the viridian weyrrider to arrive, just so she'd have a singular person to focus on instead of the crowd!




Kataya - OPEN

Why not dress in red and black? After all, she matched Akashath that way, even if the dragonet was in the barracks sound asleep. If she hadn't been, undoubtedly Kat would not have been able to attend. Her mask matched her dress, of course. She knew people here--many of them. Still, she'd only sent a couple of goldentines, and was not entirely certain if she'd easily recognize the people she'd sent them to. Still, she was here, at least. That was an accomplishment in and of itself. She planned to at least try and have a good time. Try, because she had the ever nagging worry that Aka might wake up. Try, because Siinari should have been here with her, yet again, and was not. She had sent a goldentine home, to her older sister, and yet she wasn't sure she'd get a reply. She tried hard not to think about any of it, as she entered the dining hall and admired the many, many masks.




Lykaios - @Ivy

Lykask had nagged and nagged at him to go, even though things such as this were stifling, miserable affairs. Still, part of him had felt...safer...at the idea of going into a place where he could wear a mask over his face. Most people would hardly recognize him, as he'd been a weyrling for quite some time now, and had barely associated outside of a few words with anyone save Norla, the Alphahandler, outside of his mandatory associations with his weyrling class. His mask was not fancy, or showy. It was black and silvery, and was meant to cover much of his face. He wore all black. Black leather pants, black leather jacket, and a black undershirt. He was not precisely dressed up, and while he saw one other individual who looked equally almost out of place, he hardly stood out at all, thanks to what he wore. It was all dark, and made to blend in. Still, if someone knew who they were looking for, they'd recognize him in the way he moved, all feline grace and stealth, almost never touching someone as he walked past them. That predatory movement of his was unmistakable--neither was he short or of a thinner build--he had muscle, and he was noticeable in a very different way.




Keirian - @RhiaBlack

Crowds didn't phase him, because little did. The chance to dress up and stand out, hidden behind a mask--even though his hair might give him away, it blended in perfectly with the mask he'd chosen--was one the Journeyman relished. The room was practically teeming with tension. Romance? Well, some would call it that. Some were here for that. Still, others wanted to wear masks like the ones they wore every sharding day. To feel they could hide who they were, and be emboldened by it.

He spotted Z'dyn entering, followed by one boy he recognized, and one he didn't. Still, it didn't take much by way of intellect to realize that the other, younger boy was Z'dyn's second son. Since arriving at Dalibor, he'd laid pretty low, getting a feel of things. That discussion with the Weyrleader hadn't been forgotten. There had been no challenge in the man's words, but he'd made his point. Keir wasn't interested in anyone more than two turns younger than him. Kyzekeidon was safe from his interests of that nature--for the moment. From what he'd gathered, the kid--though it rubbed him entirely the wrong way to think of him as one, when he hardly looked it and behaved more maturely than many young men Keirian knew--was no innocent. It hardly surprised him one bit. It even raised his interest. Still, too young for his tastes. He could, and would, wait.

There was no harm in friendly banter. He'd heed Z'dyn's warning, yet he planned to keep Kyzekeidon in his sights. He could well see, from his spot in the shadowed corner of the dining hall, sipping from a chalice of wine, that the wall of a man was watching. Little bother to him, since his own intentions were not really nefarious. He would well remind himself of Z'dyn's eldest's age. For the meantime, if some foundation of familiarity could be built, all for the better. So, when the candidate took up a mug of klah and went to sit down, he slid out of the shadows and sat down across from him.

He was dressed in form fitting leather pants and a silken black shirt, left open a third of the way down. He had a few bracelets, and a few necklaces. Blue eyes stared out of the mask at the young man a moment before he asked in a neutral tone,

"Did you pick that mask out, or did Z'dyn? Reminds me of his iron." He held the neck of the chalice, rolling it around lightly so that the blood red liquid sloshed and swirled about lightly. Taking a sip, eyes never leaving the other, he wondered if and how he would answer. Sarcasm? Neutrality? He had seen the candidate around a few times, and yet there'd been no time to sidle in for a conversation. He had no doubt that he'd remember him. He was confident enough that he wasn't so easy to forget, and the conversation had not been all that long ago, really.
PMEmail
^
Tobes
 Posted: Feb 13 2018, 12:29 AM
Quote
Wingrider





N/A


170 Posts
2571 Marks
Member Inventory: View




Earth fell into a deep silence, wholly mesmerized by the crystal sphere Rivath held out to him. His own talons came to cradle it, meshing over her more delicate ones with such care.I see you in it, and so he could, a thousand rainbow refractions of her hide and the never-still facets of her eyes, and all of his emotions seemed to swell and form a lump in his throat. He could not talk at all for a long while, simply overcome. He tried several times and had to let the words subside with a little hitch of feeling. When at last he felt that he could give his thoughts due voice, he pressed the sharp curve of his head against her own, knowing that she could always hear him best with their heads so near one another, and he wanted no part of his grave words to go unheard. It is my most cherished possession and I will always think of you when I look into it. I will treasure it always, Rivath. As I treasure you. Already the slow grind of his thoughts was working at how he must ask W'ryn to find a special way to keep it safe, so that it would be in no danger of cracking and he could pull it out to gaze at it whenever he wanted, which would be very often. Sometimes the White was busy and could even disappear into spaces usually reserved for humans, and so he could not always find her with eyes, but now there was something almost as good, and so special he could not handled it more delicately if she had given him one of her own eggs.

Now. I have something to show you. Do not be startled, he added after a pause, remembering that he had given Halventh something of a surprise without a warning attached. Rivath was both flighty and more solidly grounded than he, and so he could not properly guess her reaction. The Blue concentrated for a moment, reaching out until he could borrow directly from what W'ryn was seeing, then projected that image... out. It was perhaps the one real boon of being such a loud talker, that the images he could send were very nearly three-dimensional once shouted out by his brain, full of all the color and even the sound of the images he thought. Of course, he was seeing what W'ryn saw, which meant that Rivath was being treated to the image her own Ulian as they crossed the floor to W'ryn's table, twice removed by another’s eyes. Earth chuffed, subtly encouraging his Rider to look around the cavern instead. Then less subtly, for they clearly only had eyes for the Whiterider, and he was dimly aware of the feeling of heat rising in their cheeks. He could hear W’ryn’s surprised chuckle as they finally obliged, showing him a sweeping view of the festive cavern, with its elegant dinner and the sparkle of dozens of dancing, costumed people. Harpers were singing in one corner,

It is... a little like this? he pondered gravely, and he set the crystal ball ever so delicately back into the leather pouch it had come from, careful not to disturb the golden paper gift on top, and then he was backwinging so that he could settle back onto his haunches. He would never be so graceful at it as Rivath was, but then, was anyone? He gave a formal bow with the full length of his neck, having seen a dancer in flashing green doing just that to his dance partner. It was perhaps not as easy to watch as if the folk had all been out in the open, but it was the best he could offer, and it felt right to share as he could. Everything felt right now.

W’ryn’s gaze had drifted back to Ulian, something in their breath catching every time the other stopped to accept accolades. It was unsurprising. Ulian looked… magnificent, otherwordly in their extravagance. And every time they came closer W’ryn forgot how breathing was supposed to work. Distantly Earth was asking them to take their eyes off Ulian for just one second, he wanted to see the rest of the cavern, and after a little prodding they obliged with a chuckle. By the time the Whiterider had drawn close W’ryn had risen to their feet, a steadying hand on the table as they bowed low and formal. As they sank back down into seats together, they were already pulling theirs closer to the other, and without thinking they reached out to take Ulian’s hands in their own. They must have pulled the goldentime from their pocket as well, for now it was trapped between the two sets of fingers, and W’ryn was loathe to let go long enough to uncage it.

“You’re no stranger of mine,” they murmured back, the pad of their left thumb tracing nervous circles against Ulian’s fingers. “Not when I watched you through dyin’, and you did the same for me.” A smile broke out under the mask, only half-hidden by the feathered muzzle, W’ryn’s eyes darting up to meet Ulian’s only for a second. When had they gotten so shy? Were they only going to be able to speak their mind when death seemed a certainty? “You look… I don’t even know, I’m glad you came. I thought maybe… I mean, you were made for this festival, lookit you, and I’m sure it’s not just…” Not just for me. Everyone here was mesmerized by them, they could choose from anyone at all throughout the night. “I’m just. Real glad you came.” Carefully, nervously, they dropped one hand away, pressing the note into Ulian’s hands with the other. Already a blush was rising hot across their face, and it took all of their internal fortitude to not stammer apologies during the time it took them to read the contents.

This one had clearly been written in less of a hurry, though confirmed that W’ryn held a quill like a weapon and had been worrying at the thing since the ink had dried. A quick peek into their living quarters would confirm that this was the final product of a dozen attempts, the others crumpled and abandoned.

Ulian,
I have had so much time to think and get the words right. I know they still aren’t. But my heart goes wild when I think of you. And I think of you all the time. I think I’m falling in love with you but I can’t be doing it without you.
P.S. Do I remember something about a ‘first time’ you wanted to talk about long ago? I want to hear more about that.


W’ryn leaned in while Ulian was readining, near enough that they could drop their voice to a whisper over the rising sound of song. If masks had not presented a challenge they would have been sore tempted to kiss them. As they were most of the time already. “If I misjudged, Ulian… I don’t want to lose your regard, or your friendship, never that, but I’m gettin’ no good at hidin’, and if I learned anything at all it’s not to be so damned patient you never get the chance.” Their hand, still twined around the Whiterider’s, was trembling perceptibly. How confusing to be feeling all of their own trepidation, with Earth’s high-hearted joy coming through almost as strongly. Their heart was like to burst one way or another.

@Ruin
PMEmail
^
Ruriko
 Posted: Feb 13 2018, 01:30 AM
Quote
Weyrlingmaster





N/A


531 Posts
110 Marks
Member Inventory: View




Kali - OPEN

Being a weyrling wasn't easy, but what in life was? The chance to do something other than lessons and training was a welcome change. She hadn't many--maybe one, but she was not even sure she would receive a reply--to send goldentines to. And now, she was standing in the dining hall alone, hidden behind a mask. It was so strange to think she'd been wearing a mask for most of her life--not a literal one, perhaps. Yet one far more confining than the one she wore now. She wasn't wearing a dress. She was one of the few who appeared female outwardly, and was not. At least there were a few others. She was dressed more like some of the men. Form-fitting black leather pants, and a crimson dress shirt, cut crisply to fit, with a longer black 'jacket' over it. She felt a bit out of place, and like she didn't know what she was really doing there. Still, it was interesting to see all these people dressed up and in masks. No one really knew her well besides her weyrling class, and she wasn't sure any of them would approach her tonight at all. She stood near the wall, holding a cup of juice and almost wishing it were wine. No alcohol for weyrlings, though. It was a shame, because she might have felt more relaxed for it...




Seiyrsha - OPEN

She looked fantastic, and she knew it. That was almost as satisfying as seeing people wearing her masks. She'd been selling the detailed, intricately made masks for a few days now. They'd sold well, and she'd made her own to wear, too. Her mask, like all the others she'd made, was a lovely example of what long hours spent carefully crafting could do. Her black dress was form fitting and ended above the knee. It was nice enough, with a back that dipped into a low 'v' and laced up, but it was meant to be more simplistic. The focus was to be on the mask, and her hair, which she'd taken great pains to do up just right. That, and the matching shoes, which were strappy and went around her ankles and halfway up her calf. She had sent a few goldentines to boys she thought were cute, and one to her fellow greenrider, Erochall, yet that was about it. She'd never quite told them who she was, either--save Ero. Just sent a sketch of the mask she'd be wearing and that she'd be in a black dress. If they looked for her, that was fine. If not, she had plenty of options, she was sure!




Larka - OPEN

She had only left Fell alone on the rarest of occasions, and this was one of them. She didn't want to be noticed. Fell would see her noticed faster than one could blink. The rapidly growing icehowler wouldn't have enjoyed the closed in, crowded atmosphere. Nor did she. Still, she had heard so much about this 'Moon Masque' and how people might not know who you were, that she was risking it. She wasn't afraid, despite closed off areas making her feel trapped. No one could do anything to her if there were so many there. So, she'd gotten a mask, with marks her elder sister had given her. She knew Norla would have wanted her to come, yet even now, things were unsteady between the two. She wasn't about to go without a mask, though. So, she wore a mask that had been like no other she'd seen. She might never have gone if she hadn't seen it, simply because sating a mild curiosity had not really, at the time, seemed worth it to her. The icehowler mask had been black, made of supple leather. Black like Fell. The 'teeth' were merely more leather, painted. It did not make the wearer look approachable. Her outfit, on the other hand, did. The dress had been understated and simple, and she hadn't realized it would be as short as it was. She wore a leather jacket over it, and boots that went above the knee, laced up at the front. They were soft, black leather themselves. She felt the dress was too short. She didn't have marks to buy another, and yet the jacket brought her some comfort. She clung to the wall when she entered, watching through wide, blue eyes. She didn't really recognize anyone. She tried her best to avoid people here. Still, they didn't recognize her, either...there was safety in that, and in not drawing attention to herself. Was Kala here? Norla? Surely Norla would attend? She watched, trying to see if she might recognize either of them in the people hidden behind the masks.




Talivor - @Maruset, OPEN

He'd invited Ismat to the masque, but he was not certain the apprentice Healer would show up. As it was, Talivor was quite busy entertaining, chatting to people in his usually friendly manner, and enjoying himself thoroughly. He'd had a glass of good Benden wine and had just finished a few songs--he was both singing and playing guitar tonight. He had spent a few marks on his mask, but the moment he saw it sitting there, complete with the musical score piece from 'Moreta's Ride', he'd known he wanted to have it. Plus, it went so perfectly with his best black pants, white dress shirt and black jacket, he'd been thrilled. It was as if the mask was made just for him.

He was taking a break, having a mug of water after his few songs with a few squeezes of citrus in it. The key to keeping his voice good all evening would be to keep drinking this, and warm teas with citrus in it as well. He spotted many people whom he could figure out who they were. Some were nigh impossible to hide, after all. Some hardly tried, then again. He was content to stand near the front, chatting with anyone who was willing and keeping an eye out for Ismat. Hopefully the boy would come--it would keep him occupied, and perhaps do him some good!
PMEmail
^
Ivy
 Posted: Feb 13 2018, 01:34 AM
Quote
Alphahandler





Zookeeper


1291 Posts
3100 Marks
Member Inventory: View




For all the woman loved to make dresses her own for the evening was considerably plain. Instead of spending time on her own dress she’d spent most of the last few sevendays creating elaborate works of art for her clients to wear, so when the first night of the Masque came she ventured out in a simple white floor length number. The fabric was a soft flowing cream color that lacked any of the usual embellishments she went for, with long sleeves despite the warmth that carried over into the evening from the day. Falling off her shoulders the neckline exposed her collar bones but nothing more, layered fabrics settled over her bosom neither drew attention to that area nor did it detract from her natural assets. Everything simply was; the only thing that drew much attention to her at all was the swollen belly jutting out in front of her beneath the comfortable fabric. While she went simple with her dress, the mask she wore was an entirely different story - fabric had been set over a form and saturated in glues that dried hard and clear. The cut of the mask only covered a portion of her face: around her eyes and some above and below.

Lace was painstakingly laid out over the hardened fabric form and sewn into place with the most delicate thread she could find. Weaving a two inch skirt for the lower portion of the mask had been a task but she’d managed - it’s form was similar to netting, she’d been inspired by watching the ‘folk by the docks throw out their nets in hopes of catching fish. On the left temple area of her mask was a gather of silk made to look like the bud of a flower with petals of white feathers flaring out away from the main mask to dance against her loose brown curls. Fishing line with clear glass beads threaded upon it was used as an extra embellishment, as were some paper flowers she’d picked up at a Gather turns ago. It fit her face well and when she wore it she could eat and drink without issues, the netting fell just far enough above her mouth that she needn’t worry about it. It was soft and intricate in its design - she intended to wear it every evening as it would no doubt match any dress she chose to wear. Lifting it only once, so her identity could be confirmed (as though her swollen belly was not evidence enough she was not some wayward Candidate or a Weyrling trying to sneak in unnoticed), she entered the hall and slid her hand into the ironrider whose company she kept.

Falling in next to him she set to the task of admiring the various dresses and masks - some of the former being ones she had a hand in making. Occasionally she would tug on his arm and point at a jacket or skirt; she took great pride in her work, not that he hadn’t been privy to some of the pieces as she worked on them. Though she could have made something far more elaborate for the man she’d spent most her days and nights with over the past handful of seasons he had insisted what he had was just fine. Still she’d offered a colorful shirt for him to wear beneath his other clothes and it offered just the right amount of color. Looking up at him she lifted a brow as he drew her away from where the majority of the people were lingering and offered her something - a Goldentine. A soft smile tugged the corners of her lips as she took it and gently opened it to reveal the message inside. Reading the brief message her smile only broadened until finally she lifted her gaze to meet his, ”I’m afraid I left yours in our weyr.”

Most of her belongings were still in her own weyr, he had not actually asked her to move in with him, nor had they established just what their relationship truly was - but it felt right to say it all the same. After all she’d spent so much time there it may as well be partially hers, if only for the time being. Reaching out her fingers gently pulled at his clothes in order to draw him closer, turning slightly so her stomach did not get in between them. Rocking onto her tip toes she pressed a kiss to his cheek; public displays of affection were not the norm for her, yet her belly was evidence enough to the affection they displayed in private. A kiss was nothing compared to that. ”I thought you didn’t dance.” Her face twisted into a look of surprise and joy as she took his hand and placed it upon her belly so he could feel what she felt, their child moving about and kicking, ”Looks like someone else likes the harper’s music too.”

@Catsitta


----------------------------------------------------------

It felt only fitting to wear something that represented the night, and so Belior was embodied in the hammered metal mask he wore. A crescent on its side it did not in fact resemble the moon at all but was rather a symbol. No doubt not many would ‘get’ it but he did and that’s all that mattered. Ridesk had overseen his preparations for the festive week, she’d dictated a number of Goldentines - which were not exactly friendly but as many of the recipients knew how the cyan was he doubted they’d be surprised. A crisp white button up shirt was worn, the top button undone and the sleeves rolled up on his arms partially. Black slacks and black hide boots wrapped the ensemble up - he wasn’t big on going all out, the mask he’d had one of the smiths make for him was more than enough dazzle for him.

At least he’d taken time to wash and brush his hair, not that it was of the mind to stay still all evening. No doubt he’d be brushing it out of his face within a candlemark; he really needed to see about getting it trimmed. Making it through the checkpoint without issue he found himself a mug of klah and a pastry to snack on as he made his way around the room. It wasn’t as if he’d been invited by anyone, nor had he thought to ask anyone to go with him. A date? Well it had been turns since he’d had anything resembling one of those, he wasn’t even sure he would know what to do or say.

While he wasn’t looking for anyone in particular it didn’t take him long to spot her - not that he suspected she’d meant herself to be hard to find. With such bright colors she looked like a literal drop of Rukbat’s rays. Grinning he soon found himself beside her and slipped her a Goldentine,

You never did return my shirt.

@Captain


PM
^
Ruriko
 Posted: Feb 13 2018, 02:11 AM
Quote
Weyrlingmaster





N/A


531 Posts
110 Marks
Member Inventory: View




Vilane - OPEN, looking for a little bit of trouble, anyone?

Being a candidate for ten turns was likely the most brutal thing Vilane would ever have to endure. Hatching after monotonous hatching, same thing day in, and day out. Lessons he was forced to attend over and over, so that he could repeat them in his sleep. It was more than needed for him to do something different. To have a change of pace. Dressed in a black v-neck shirt and a black mask that was both elegant and yet simple enough, he knew that he had the advantage of height--at 6'4" and drawing at least a few eyes his way when he entered the dining hall. He wore black pants and wher-hide boots. He might have brought a jacket, but it would be too warm for that. The shirt, at least, allowed room to 'breathe'.

He'd listened to Ulian's rules. Listened, sought loop-holes, and found them. No sex, was it? How he did miss that. Still, they could kiss...and he'd be damned if it was going to keep it 'sibling chaste'. Shard that. He could make it look plenty chaste, he was sure. Yet he knew how to kiss, and being a candidate hadn't stopped him doing it, either. Perhaps if things had been like before--he'd heard about before, from another candidate who also liked to steal a quick feel or a few kisses away from prying eyes--when there'd been actual sharding firelizards assigned to candidates, he would have been caught. As it was, he had heard rumors that he wasn't the only one who did so. If it wasn't sex, they weren't about to be banned from the candidate program. Especially, he wagered, the ones who had waited ten turns and were only stealing a few kisses--well, perhaps necking did not qualify as a mere 'few' kisses, but nonetheless, it was not sex. Clothing stayed on--which was nearly unbearable. Still, few candidates, himself included, were going to risk missing any hatchings. Especially at his age.

He eyed his prospects, searching for familiar faces. Pretty faces. People who would be amicable to more than a 'chaste kiss'. He was sure he'd find a few here. Romance and sexual tension were in the air. Moon Masque was a perfect time to take advantage of that.




Zeniayr - OPEN

The idea of a masque was simply too interesting to turn down. As Delta pride's newest pridesecond, he thought it might be good to attempt to have a bit of a presence in the Weyr. After all, one day, he wanted to make it to prideleader. He was young, yet, and had been grateful for the opportunity Der had given him. At eighteen, he was young yet. He'd transferred, done what he could to show he was serious about advancement, and applied for the empty position once he'd settled in a bit. Zenisk needed a lot of work before they'd ever advance further. He knew that. He'd been honest with Der about the bulky black's particularities. The fact he'd been accepted meant something to him.

He wore his black and gold mask with a suitable outfit. He really did prefer his leather jacket and clothing to this kind of clothing, but he'd dressed well to leave a good impression--and because he wouldn't mind attracting the eyes of a few of the ladies or gentlemen present. For now, he was people watching. It was something he enjoyed doing, and he could do it without being obvious in a crowded, low lighting setting such as this. He would pick and choose who to approach--if someone didn't get to him first.




S'vor - OPEN, but going to start hitting on ALL the people soon! c;

S'vor looked dashing. Like a hero in shining...well, perhaps not shining. But his mask really was top notch, wasn't it? Well, at least in his own opinion! It went wonderfully with his outfit--a white silk dress-shirt that was un-tucked and a black pair of dress trousers with black boots. He looked quite dashing, if he dared say so himself--and he did! With a cup of wine in one hand--was it the sixth or seventh, now?--and a room full of beautiful people dressed as well as they could be, he was sure this was going to be a fantastic evening, and he would get laid--away from the prying eyes of little candidates and children, as well as the poor wee innocents with their baby dragons and whers. So sad for them. They were missing out. Still, he was going to take full advantage of such a fortuitous event! There were likely unattached, lonesome people everywhere, just dying to have an attractive, virile man in his prime whisk them off of their feet...and into his weyr! Or theirs. Or anyone's really.




Al'tair - OPEN, someone get him to have some fun!

Standing in his mask and surveying the scene before him, Al'tair wondered if there wouldn't be some trouble this evening. Candidates, weyrlings and wherlings alike might be feeling a bit pent up. He'd heard some of the candidates talking about being allowed to kiss, and how far they might be able to get away with it. He was no tattle-tale, but if he saw a fellow weyrling taking things too far, would he feel right not interjecting? Really, it was none of his business. Still, he'd never do anything to jeopardize Onduth. She was his other half. What if they were to take something too far, and lost their dragon due to it? What if he'd not said anything? Guilty by doing nothing, in his books. His morality wouldn't let him do nothing. He knew it, and it wasn't easy being 'that guy'. He knew he stuck to the rules, because they were there for a reason. Dressed in a white shirt and dark blue trousers and overcoat, he was easily visible, standing with a cup of klah and wondering if it had been a good idea to come. It would be nice to dance with a pretty girl, maybe, but he hated to disappoint her if she thought she was getting more than a dance. Well, hopefully everything went well, and he didn't have to interject, and be 'that guy'. Maybe he'd have a nice dance or two, enjoy the music, and the whole evening would go smoothly. No goldentines so far, but still, he wasn't going to let that get him down. No one had really gotten close enough to him for that, and if anyone was crushing on him, he'd have been a bit surprised.




Shae - OPEN, also up for a little trouble!

She'd sent goldentines to a few cute boys, shamelessly flirting. Who cared if they knew she thought they were attractive? Maybe they'd grow a pair and pay her some attention if they did. She had dressed to impress tonight, making sure she chose just the right mask and dress to get as much attention as she could. She didn't need an artsy one to hide her face--her face was the art. She had no issue being careful about not getting caught stealing more than 'chaste' kisses. Rivath's eyes could not be everywhere, and Candidatemaster Ulian had said they could kiss, and hand hold, and dance. Just no sex. Which was, well, whatever. She didn't need it to have fun here. She wasn't going to be drinking enough for that. There were ways to mask your breath so no one could tell if you had a glass or two. She wasn't a lightweight, either. She might get mildly tipsy, but she wasn't stupid enough to get drunk and caught. Drunk was just downright sloppy, after all!
PMEmail
^
Ruin
 Posted: Feb 13 2018, 03:05 AM
Quote
Betahandler





Capslock Queen


3137 Posts
1064 Marks
Member Inventory: View






It had been an exhilarating evening. It felt so good to play, and he wanted nothing more than to get back to it, which is why he almost recoiled physically when someone grabbed his arm. His fingers tightened into a reflexive fist and he started with a gruff "I'm not..." you know him and trust more than he thought he had in his lifemate won through as he ran those first words again in the second it took to process the voice of his long-time friend. Xel sighed softly and relaxed in the next heartbeat, but the little breath he had remaining was stolen away when N'oir leaned up and stole it away with a kiss.

Like before, he had little control over the curl of his fingers around the cloth satchel, in the Bowl, Byth's head popped up, his eyes dancing a green-tinged dance. You liked that, he encouraged, crushing Xel beneath wave after wave of his own emotion on repeat--as experienced by the dragon. "...but why though..." the Weyrling said both to the mindemotion of his dragon, and the back of the retreating Pinkrider. A passing masked Weyrperson startled at his confused vocalization and peered nervously at him from behind a facade of feathers. "Not you, " Xel said, his arms waving expressively as Byth continued to press in. He's getting away, you should tell him, no, you should tell him, Xel hissed back, which put the clamp on the Blue's excited mindvoice.

In the Bowl, Byth had quite inverted himself, and Xe'rik knew it. I'm sorry, you're right, you're right he apologized, but more than that, he gave chase to the ever-escaping N'oir, catching up to the Pinkrider only after nearly knocking a few serving platters out of the hands of their minders--those looks he couldn't dodge. He drew up alongside his friend, and then hooked an arm around his elbow and guided them both into a quieter area of the room. He brandished the still hidden knots, and then realized the face he was making was quite hidden.

"You want to tell me what that was?" He whispered softly. Any other person, he would've been looking for the setup, but N'oir? "And let's not pretend that this," he gestured emphatically at his own general drudgery with the cloth satchel, "isn't driving you absolutely mad." Byth had long since recovered from the brief realization that he didn't want to be the one to tell N'oir anything, at least not yet, they didn't even know each other, so instead he'd slowly started stalking around looking for Uqetcanqeth, because maybe if he could just get a little closer to her she would tell him everything she knew. Then maybe he could tell her what he knew, and...things would work out.

He just wasn't really sure where to look, so he mostly just hopped around on the Weyrwall peering over the edge.

---

Somewhere along the way of finding H'ler and entering the Dining Hall, Yrsa had remembered how few of her long-time friends remained within the Weyr. It had hit her most suddenly when she'd reached for a bottle to take to Da'on, to share a few words about what they both would know was coming, and then realized he wouldn't be here. Masked, emotionless and protected, she leaned mentally into the ever-present confidence of her dragon and let that fire fill her while she scanned a room of strangers who were strangers even without the masks they wore. That was life on Pern; she knew it--they knew it. People were always leaving.

They were just usually gone away between, not gone away elsewhere in the world. She should have taken comfort in that. A letter here or there, but Yrsavild was not a letter writer. She did not hold to the notion of long distance friendships. You didn't leave your family, especially the one you had the privilege of choosing. Some people could move on easier, others had to cut away the rot and lose the limb to keep the wound clean. It was just another day in the office, wasn't it.

She stifled a sigh, fingered the fluted glass she'd been handed, and considered her next move. Her thoughts tended towards redfruit and sutures. Maybe she needed to take on more Apprentices. Keeping them busy would keep her busy.

@Rii

---

A'ndel wasn't hard to spot, he was covered in recently-born pillies, and wasn't wearing a mask. In fact, he wasn't dressed up at all. In fact...he was pretty dirty. "Gan needed a wash, he's too big now I gotta walk on him, so we just do it in the lake. Didn't have nothin' to dry off with so I figured just put m' clothes back on and come here. Why you lookin' all fancy anyway." The boy wrinkled his nose as he looked around at all the other people. "I think if they want to all get together so bad they don't need the masks anyway, it's more honest," he shrugged and plucked the palm-sized Key off of the front of his tunic and held her up to his cheek where she nosed at him softly with hardly a sound at all. "Hey, we're here anyway, gotta be something we can do. Maybe see if we can untie peoples masks when they aren't looking. Or tie their laces together if they have them..."

The young boy trailed off, keeping his eye on the comings and goings of the people in the Hall. "Wonder if my da'll be here," he sounded almost...curious? Things had been different since his illness. He hadn't really spoken to the man, but he didn't spend so much of his time trying to avoid him either. Gan was right, the world was the way it was and...that meant the good and the bad, and maybe his dad wasn't all bad. A'ndel still wasn't sure how he wanted to feel about all of it, but it had helped, not being so alone when he was so sick. "Hey, you hungry? I feel like I could eat a whole herdbeast all to myself and they got food everywhere, if we get bored we can run baskets out to the lake and feed the pillies."

@Ruriko

---

His backside was, most decidedly, bare as the day he'd been born. After returning the kiss, but not the bite, then coyly extricating himself, the Handler made a point of turning around to show how the loincloth had simply been tied around his waist like a mask for something that happened to only have one eye. Sebol laughed, pretended to ponder at great length, but ultimately said; "to the festivities then. I will cover my shame, can't have the Weyrlings betweening in a fit," not to mention what the cloistered Candidates would do to themselves. Yes, the old Sebolaren was coming back alright.

There were still some things that couldn't be helped, such as his attire, in fact B'er would find him hopeless for the rest of their days most likely. If he wanted matching eye-candy he'd have to dress the Handler himself, or at least hand him the proper clothing. Sebolaren made sure to tease where he could, but did try very hard to at least maintain forward momentum of going to the Masquerade; it wouldn't do for them to arrive only when everyone else was leaving to find their own fun in dark shadows.

Sesk no need man mates have much fun, Sesk go find whers hunt sneks all night make great feast maybe other things not important to Sesk's Sebol or other two-leggers nope, tell all about fights when big bright bad light up, go, go do human things was all she would say when Sebol warned her not to be underfoot. He hesitated, a rare and cautious worry wiggling in the back of his head. Sesk no go far, Sesk no disappear, Sesk no leave Sesk's Sebol. Promise before when kill stupid no good bad egg brother, never leave Sebol. Now Sesk's Sebol go have happy times with manmate He scratched her on her eyeridges, tsked her softly, and then got right back to being excited to get B'er down into the Dining Hall.

"You know," he practically purred after Sesk had left. "It's not too late to dress me up like a wher and ride me into battle." His mouth dropped open with feigned innocence, but he wouldn't relent until they finally joined the rest of the 'folk down below where he had to be somewhat more civilized. The mask made it so easy to undress B'er with his eyes though, and he certainly wouldn't stop implying to the Blackrider all of the things waiting for him at the evening's close.

@RhiaBlack

---

Rivath thrummed with pleasure at his reaction to her gift. Had she worried? She always seemed to know, seemed to ooze into the minds of others, especially other dragons. Yet, in truth, she had worried. She'd come to choose the gift independent of explanation, it had come to her in a dream--or that was how she remembered it--and so many disjointed thoughts left things confusing. Ulian had assured her that Earth would find anything acceptable, but Rivath did not want to be acceptable, she wanted to be extraordinary. There was something about the reverb between the four of them that she found alluring. Humans complicated everything, but Earth complicated nothing. He was as timeless and honest as the mountain he reminded her of, and it had never been uncertain between them. She was not going to ruin it for their Riders. The dragons didn't need them, and they'd figure it out.

So she relished her time here under the stars with Earth, and followed along with Ulian at her pleasure, pressing closer to the Blue who had stolen her attentions and listening when he spoke again, and again. Yet he surprised her, even when she seemed to know, he wanted to show her something. A thrilling surprise for a dragon who liked to see everything. It did take her by surprise, what he did, yet it so thrilled her that she instantly seemed to fall into the image, chasing after distant dancers until they dissipated and left her prancing on the Weyrwall once more. oh so surprising you are, mymountain, she whispered, chasing after him as he left--turning only to ensure that their gifts were secure--only to rise up on her spindle limbs in answer to his graceful bow.

Under the light of the twin moons she gleamed not unlike their faces, though where they were cratered and dark on the edges, her lines seemed to shine with bright rainbow hues. She swept her wings back to keep her balance, the pinions spreading with the faintest whisper of silky wing membranes as she matched his bow with one of her own, the delicate line of her jaw tucking into the softness of her breastbone. like a firelizard you can...show me so many things...i would fit in there with them if there werent so many but you would not...and i want to be here with you she warbled softly, and then hopped forward, her tail and wingtips curled together like a braid that swept this way and that as she twined and spun and coiled around his forelegs and beneath his blue belly.

Ulian felt the joy of Rivath, and allowed it to filter around them; they had to be so careful sometimes that her overwhelming emotions wouldn't wash away their own. It wouldn't do to be anything less than true--and truth be told, she had far more rage inside her body than they had ever been able to muster over the turns. As they wound their slender fingers with W'ryn's and leaned closer, the glass beads fell in braided strands from their shoulder with a quiet tinkling noise, and from thereafter as they moved the sound carried and shifted as the glass reflected tiny rainbows onto the table and the joining of their skin. Ever patient, they gave the Bluerider all the time they needed to work through what was troubling them; though it was easy to be patient when Ulian could ascertain what was the root of the discomfort.

They had worked through this those moons ago prior to the Expedition. It had been terrifying, but relieving to come to terms with the budding emotion they had felt. If only there hadn't been an illness...and a large dangerous jungle snake...these things could have been worked out before W'ryn had wound themselves up. They could have, the both of them, Impressed more helpful dragons as well. Earth had done his part at Rivath's Flight, that was true enough, but the dragons had seemed to work it all out without involving their Riders, and seemed content to leave them to wallow until they did what humans did best--sink or swim. Ulian wanted to swim.

That didn't mean they weren't going to be a little bit like Rivath in the end. Their hand never left W'ryn's, even as they read the Goldentine, even as the other returned to assure them that there was no obligation, even as they reached within the cascading white and blue fabric of their dress to bring out their own paper gift for the Bluerider. It was simple, possibly even drab when compared to the Healer that held it. A simple shiny golden egg-shaped piece of paper, but it held no smudges, no worry, no hesitation or concern. Neither did Ulian when they slipped it neatly into W'ryn's free hand, neither did their eyes when they waited, ever patient, for it to be read, and it would be a quite a read, because when opened the egg held a handful of pages.

I haven't stopped thinking about you,
since you yelled at me on top of the Weyrwall.
I have been yelled at by many people,
but I think you did it best.
Storming off on a dragon makes quite an impression.
You've certainly Impressed me, and Rivath is willing to share.
She's known this was right before I did.
But I wanted this to be right for us.
Not for the lizards we're bonded to.
Then you decided to yell at a snake, we both fell ill, and here we are.
I think you know this is right, even if you still want to yell at me because it's true.
I'm willing to go as slow, or as fast, as you'd like.
You have only to ask, no matter the volume.


Ulian still hadn't spoken, and that didn't change, there was only the constant presence of their hand in W'ryn's while they waited for the Bluerider to finish reading.

@Tobes



*click for plot page*
user posted image
PM
^
Ruriko
 Posted: Feb 13 2018, 03:53 AM
Quote
Weyrlingmaster





N/A


531 Posts
110 Marks
Member Inventory: View




Basiliare - @Rowana, @OPEN

She hadn't known what had drawn her to choose this dress and mask. Still, she'd always been drawn to black, and leather. She'd been debating whether or not to go, in truth. She was hoping she might run into Eryonthi. Since her one and only friend had bonded a wher at last hatching, things had been so much different in the barracks. She'd sent a goldentine to the cyanwherling.

Eryonthi,

It's not the same without you here. I hope wherlinghood goes well for you. You and Silmaug are missed, and it will be nice when you become seniors and can finally associate more outside of your lessons. I will be at the masque on the very first day, and hope to spot you there. Yours truly,

Basiliare


It had been a bit more formal than she'd have liked, but she'd sent it. She'd no one else to send one to here at Dalibor, so had also sent one to her older sister back home. Lately she'd been debating getting a pet of some kind. Many of the candidates had one. Maybe then, she'd feel a little less lonesome. Or, you know, you can at least make an attempt at getting to know some of the other candidates, she told herself; yet it was half-hearted. What if they, too, bonded? She really wanted a partner of her own, yet since wher candidates didn't age out, she knew there wasn't that concern. Still, she had been Searched. Sometimes, when she felt a little down, she wondered if it was because she was supposed to have Stood for a dragon that a wher didn't choose her. She wanted a wher, though. Dragons were fine and all, but she knew what she wanted more than most, and always had. She entered the dining hall, feeling fairly certain she wasn't that recognizable to just about all of the people here. Would Thi be here? If she wasn't, Lia would understand. Still, it would be nice to catch up...




Luxinova - @Harbinger, OPEN

Of course her mother had insisted upon sending her an extravagant dress for the masque. Lux had been dutifully writing her, both out of habit and to keep the woman off of her back. As little information as possible was not acceptable. Her mother was infernally nosy. Still, she had also sent marks along with that dress. To 'purchase the finest mask there is to be had'. That was what the letter that came with the dress and marks had said. Only the finest was allowed for her daughter, who was to make an impression and remain ever the desirable lady. One would think their mother was a Lady Holder, she was so vain and proud. Yet, as the nineteen turn old Journeyman Dragonhealer entered the dining hall, she smugly noticed that she was indeed among the finest of those here--if not, in her less-than-humble opinion of herself, the very finest. Surely there were some lovely dresses and masks to behold. Yet she stood out, she felt. That was a pleasing feeling.

The mask she'd bought would have satisfied even her mother's pickiness. It not only matched the dress perfectly, it was made to mimic a dragon--with some exaggerations and embellishments that didn't look entirely like a dragon. Yet there was no mistaking what it was supposed to represent. A purple dragon might not have been normally Impressed by females, but it was the color that had matched, and it had been sitting on a false head on display--one of the most costly. Well, they were not her marks, and her mother had instructed her to buy what would be 'the finest'. She had complied. She wondered, as she gazed about the dining hall absently, if Xavinyra would be present. Likely, she'd come smelling of filthy animals and dung if she did. She very much doubted her half-sister would dress appropriately or nearly as finely as she did. In every respect, Luxinova was a lady. In every respect, she felt her sister was decisively not.




Daxaeon - OPEN, and would love tags!

An excuse to be allowed to flirt a bit, cut loose, and relax? Dax didn't need to even think twice. Candidacy had been a breeze, albeit a too-full-of-sharding-rules one. In the meantime, time was flying, and he was already going to be twenty turns in two seasons. Two turns after that to Impress was a bit unpleasant to think of, yet he'd survive if he didn't. He really wanted to, but if he didn't, life was gonna' go on like it always did.

His mask was suave looking and simple. Kind of like him, he mused--well, maybe not so simple. He was a typical guy in most respects, but simple wasn't a word he would have necessarily applied, depending on how one thought about it. Which, mind, he wasn't any longer. He was wearing a simple, clean cut gather outfit, black and white. The mask matched well enough, and the top button of the shirt was undone, the shirt left un-tucked. He looked snazzy and decided that he'd do his utmost to have the best evening he reasonably could.
PMEmail
^
Boo
 Posted: Feb 13 2018, 06:46 AM
Quote
Senior Weyrwoman





N/A


3004 Posts
2255 Marks
Member Inventory: View




@Ivy @Ruriko

Rosian had decided to take some of her friends to the Moon Masque and C'ian had enthusiastically agreed that she should. However, she had asked two boys to come with her and this did put Papa C'ian on edge just a little. So, he had told FlittFace to keep an eye on them. He had suggested to Roselle that they arrive separate, with their masks on so that it would be a test to see if they could find one another. His mask covered his entire face and had something of a prankster look to it. There were parts that stuck out at the top and a collar on the sides and bottom. He would be surprised if anyone who knew him failed to guess who was under the mask particularly when he immediately took to the dance floor with his er... signature moves.

So, thus the flailing purple rider could be found kicking his legs out in odd directions totally out of time with the music that was being played, three Benden baklava in his hand. He was receiving constant updates from FlittFace on the location of his daughter.

Shirath, for his part, was insisting that his face be painted with the stripes that adorned his body. He acquiesced to the paint being brown as they insisted that this would look much more interesting with his hide. Shirath disagreed but figured a harper knew what was best. Plus there were others complimenting him now.
I should look perfectly marvellous when this is done. Your kind will want to sing a ballad to me.

@Ruriko @Blot

Peiyn wore a mask. No it wasn't a mask like the adults wore, it was just his constant scowl. He had agreed to go to the party with Rosian but had asked his brother Rayiet to accompany him. In all honesty he wasn't sure how he felt about Rosian. Her parents cared about her and even as he spotted her in the hall, he could see that someone had painted her face. The scowl deepened somewhat but he looked around for his brother before approaching the girl.
"Who painted your face?" He asked abruptly with no proper greeting or anything.

She was wearing nice clothes. Peiyn was just wearing a normal tunic like the ones in the creche. Sometimes he received nice things but he usually refused to wear them, especially because he knew he'd only received them because they came from her. If not her than because of her. He pushed his hands into his pockets and looked around.

"It seems loud in here," he stated, eyes moving towards the flailing person on the dance floor, "Who else is coming?"
With all these people around, surely they could get up to some mischief.


user posted imageuser posted imageuser posted imageuser posted imageuser posted image
PM
^
Ruriko
 Posted: Feb 13 2018, 05:33 PM
Quote
Weyrlingmaster





N/A


531 Posts
110 Marks
Member Inventory: View




X'ayr - OPEN, please DO tag him!

What a time to arrive at his new Weyr! It was simply delicious how the day of his arrival, a masque was to happen that very evening. If he were to make an entrance, he couldn't have hoped for such an opportunity to make a better one than this. X'ayr adored any excuse to dress up--especially in costumes that were elaborate, extravagant, flamboyant and simply gorgeous. He had precisely the right outfit for the job. He'd worn it to a few events in the past, but no one here would have seen it. The accompanying mask was one he had commissioned, sitting with the crafter until she had completed it to absolute perfection. He had designed it, of course. Yet she had more skills than he did for the creation of it. He'd been willing to pay extra to have it completed for that evening, and she'd made fabulous time, considering she had only the day to do so.

X'ayr did nothing like this in half-measures. When he went to an event like his, he was going in full speed ahead. So it was that when he entered the dining hall, he felt deep seated delight that no one here would have any idea who he was! A masque was often about guessing who was who beneath the mask. The thought that they might be guessing all evening and never have a clue was just fantastic fun. There were so many outfits and masks of all different colors, shapes and sizes. So many attractive men, too! And women, of course. Yet it was no secret he tended to prefer the men over the women, more often than not. It was a strong preference. He met any gazes he received with unflinching eyes, and a slow smile, sometimes placing his lower lip between his teeth, when that gaze came from an especially attractive individual. Ah, such fun, indeed! He wouldn't have minded unmasking later on, perhaps in someone's furs? Oh, he did so tend towards heavy flirtations and the building of tension, and yet he might be persuaded, by the right individual...




Raeni - @summerrain, OPEN

OOC: tell me if this isn't okay, and I'll alter! I just wanted everyone in here. c:

She had, of course, come with Tallis. It was her older sister who had bought her the pretty blue dress and feline mask she was wearing that matched it so well. They didn't have a lot of marks, so it was very special to the little girl. Her big sister always looked out for her, despite having her daughter--Rae's niece--as well. She felt a little shy among all these strangers, but this was all so exciting! Most of them were wearing masks, and she, as a candidate, was also allowed. There were no thoughts of kisses or even hand holding for the ten turn old girl. Just good food, maybe some dancing, and good fun!

And, of course, her puppy, Jump. He was brand spanking new, an unwanted thing who she had found wandering. No one would lay claim to the rather homely puppy, with his triangular head, small eyes, and a tail that looked as if it had been broken somehow. His one ear looked as if it had somehow been torn--perhaps by littermates?--and he was bow-legged, all puppy fat and lower to the ground. Rae loved him. He was too little to leave behind, unlike Pounce, who was in her room curled up asleep on her bed. He was her kitten that Tallis had bought her, and she loved him, too. Now, she clutched onto her sister's skirts, wondering if she ought to go and try to meet people her age. She saw a group, but they looked a few turns younger than she was, maybe? She let go of Tallis' hem, and took a step forward and a deep breath. It was a magical dance with inhuman and strange creatures all about. Some were half-animals, even less human. They were all meeting in secret, and she was a half-cat herself. The story came into her mind unbidden, and she smiled at it, feeling a little more relaxed. Oh, she knew it wasn't true, but it was fun to imagine it was, nonetheless!




Eylian - OPEN

Of course she was there, wearing her aquatic looking mask, along with a matching green dress with images of shells and sea life embroidered into it, the bottom half looking like green scales, just like on the mask she wore. She did so love green, after all--what better color was there? She flitted about from person to person, ever the chatty and social one outwardly. She liked to be where there would be drama and intrigue, and there was no better place than a masque for that. She was sure before the evening was out, there would be interesting things happening.

Idly, she wondered if Muiril would come. She was keeping an eye out for the boy, that much was for certain. Really, so far as she was concerned, there was no one she was particularly close to, and so she was content to simply flit around speaking to anyone and everyone, male or female. Just so that she was seen and notice, of course!
PMEmail
^
RhiaBlack
 Posted: Feb 13 2018, 08:11 PM
Quote
Senior Weyrleader





Wrangler of Muses


3964 Posts
90 Marks
Member Inventory: View




Hargrove was absolutely swamped, but he enjoyed it. Work was easy. Work was monotonous and didn't require a whole lot of thought; he had his new Bronze flit curled around his neck, the tiny hatchling a recent development. His had found his egg on his bedfurs, nestled in against his pillow as if someone had specifically left it there; Hargrove, honestly, had no real idea whether someone had, or it was simply an abandoned part of a clutch of some wayward wild firelizard. Either way, before he could ship it off to someone else, the tiny little King had hatched, and taken the bit of meatroll right out of the Drudge's fingers.

There had been no argument, the flitter had decided. You belong to me, and so it is. Hargrove still hadn't gotten used to having a miniature mindmate, in a sense; he'd named the tiny critter Shale, after the patterning on his hide. A lighter color with darker, somewhat metallic and shifting lines that would easily have helped him blend in with the world back at his home hold.

He appeared appeased by the name, but ultimately Hargrove hadn't spoken it at all.

The drudge was fond of the fact his newfound pet was largely out of the way; Shale lingered on his shoulder or around his neck, and usually didn't bother or get in his way unless someone approached. The baby flit had picked up quickly on His' annoyances with those looking for 'personal company', and strangely it seemed he didn't get as many approaches what with the obviously fledgling firelizard perched on what amounted to his favorite new perch.

With Shale occupied watching all the masked people dance and talk, Hargrove continued to make his rounds, plucking emptied wine glasses and mugs off the tables, or out of people's extended hands. He was happy to be without a mask - this kind of celebration wasn't for people like himself, they were for those who had the social position to partake. He didn't. Drudges didn't often get that kind of allotment, and he was perfectly fine with that.

Taking an empty mug from a nearby Rider, he bowed his head in a silent indication of gratitude - after all, wasn't that what one was supposed to do for those who bonded to dragons? - before turning to make his way back to the kitchens with his tray of dirty dishes.


Kyzekeidon didn't so much as glance up when weight shifted the bench on the other side of the table. He knew full well who it was, and he could feel Z'dyn's eyes on the back of his head for a moment before turning habitually and looking at his father, who'd turned back around and was continuing to talk to X'vir. Ky knew who the Brownrider was, he'd done his own asking around, and the Weyrfolk liked to natter during his kitchen duty. Bakers didn't have anything else to do while waiting for the dough to rise, apparently.

The eldest son of the now-Senior Weyrleader was no innocent, indeed. A handful of drudges had busted him messing with others his age, but never anything in the act. Always after the fact or before, sneaking off to storage rooms. But there was never any absolute proof; all the same, it had only been less than a handful of times. Long enough for Ky to lose interest in the antics of a few, and figure out what he had a pull for. Most of it was out of his system, and he'd been a good boy the last several sevendays. He knew why the rules were what they were, of course. They had to make sure that Candidates would be able to handle the relegations of being bonded to what amounted to a lizard infant, and Kyzekeidon knew he was more than mature enough to handle that. He'd been a Candidate half as long as he'd been alive, and witnessed more than a share of instances of people who couldn't handle their bondeds, or who made the painful mistake of giving their attention or loyalties to someone while their mindmate was still growing.

Witnessing a Dragonlesss first hand had made him more than understand what was at stake, and seeing how well his father and mother had worked with their bondeds, had given him something to aspire to. Plenty of people could make passes at him as a Candidate and he'd give as good as he got - but the minute he was lucky enough to bond, if they thought he was giving anyone but his mindmate the time of day, they were sorely mistaken.

He understood the consequences, and the conditions. He flouted the rules as a Candidate, certainly, but never in a way that got him busted, and never in a way that would cause undue stress to his weyrling when and if he ever got the chance to be one. His father had made it clear after chewing his ass out post the first meeting with Keirian. Get caught with his pants down, and Z'dyn would beat him so hard he couldn't sit for a month. Ky didn't want to test his fate with his father; Z'dyn was too big and too intimidating, especially to his sons, to cross in defiance.

"I didn't pick it out," he shoved part of a meatroll in his mouth, polite enough to chew it over and clear it before he spoke again. "Neither did my Pops. I made it. And I think you've had too much wine, if a green mask reminds you of an Iron dragon..."

He left it at that; lots of people were hiding their faces, not many of them thought about hiding their voices, and he was used to paying attention to voices over anything else. It didn't mean he wasn't enjoying how creative people had been - it was something he planned on drawing later, all the different masks he'd seen.

It had been an unknowing stab from Z'dyn to his eldest son, when he'd overheard the Ironrider who'd sired him telling Keivhyn that he could 'keep drawing his pictures, but he needed to decide what he really wanted to do with his life'. A bit soul-crushing, really, but Kyzekeidon understood his father was a realist. There were more than a handful of Harpers at the Weyr, and they were desperately in need of Riders and Handlers to take up the mantle for those who'd been both lost, and who had transferred elsewhere. Both his sons were from dual-Dragonrider stock, and the wall of a Wingleader only wanted the best for them. They were twice as likely to be fine once he was gone, if they had a mindmate of their own.

Both boys were a bit gifted with artwork, though Ky was of course far more advanced in Harpercraft than his younger half-sibling. Keivhyn was advantaged with having the former-Harper for a mother, but Ky had the bigger share of talent. He'd done his best, after Z'dyn had the conversation with his younger brother, to spend some time with Keiv and do some art. They'd found seashells on the beach, and done a bit of bracelet and necklace making. Keivhyn had made Z'dyn a surprisingly nice mother-of-pearl necklace, which Ky had spotted his father wearing that evening.

It had been a bit of a soothing salve on a painfully open wound.

"Don't you have potential bedmates to woo and secrets to dig up?"

That seemed to be what all the crafters he'd met, did. People to sleep with, shards and shells to talk, politics to play. Perhaps the only things to really turn him off the craft as a whole. He could be underhanded and manipulate with the best of them, but with Candidacy to focus on, his craft had always been something of a fall-back profession in case he aged out. But coming up on fifteen turns, he had begun to shift his attention to crafts over Candidacy. In another 7 turns, he'd be too old for Dragons, and had yet to really decide if he wanted to risk standing for Whers, and turn his relationship with his father into the one between his father and grandfather.

@Ruriko

B'er was exasperated by the bare-cheeks - and not the ones on Sebol's face, either - that met his craning head-stretch over the taller man's shoulder. His face was subjected to one of many favorites of his various parts of Sebol's anatomy, and in turn the palm and fingers of one hand along it in kind as he rubbed his stubble-clad features in the true measure of 'oh my Faranth this sharding lunatic'. His lunatic, but a lunatic nonetheless.

Rlyeth just chortled from his couch, and B'er opened one eye to look at his Black with that 'that's enough out of you', before the shorter man of the relationship propped his chin on one fist and spent several moments just kind of watching the Greenpair do what they did best.

Completely frustrate the crippled Blackrider.

Sebol was quickly returning to the Sebol he remembered; the man who was cheeky and at times far too mischievous for his own good, but in all truth B'er preferred this Sebol over the near-death, in-a-hole-forever one he'd pulled painfully from the Dining Hall that day. He chased down the lanky man, finding his Greenhandler's hips with both hands before restraining the almost-completely-naked man in favor of a bite to his back.

"You had best, considering you used to be in charge of at least one part of that sentence," B'er sighed, sneaking his hands under the loincloth's edges to indeed find it was the only thing hiding Sebol's bits from the world at large. Well, that and their ledge. He swatted Sebol's backside, no small glee making an appearance on his lips as he used his cane and made his way to the dresser. A rummage for clothing, before he found something marginally matching - a pair of black slacks, Sebol's boots, a pair of socks. More rummaging, and he tracked down a darker, somewhat dusky gray-blue shirt that set the other man's eyes off, while still matching his mask. Another of B'er's favorite parts of him, and he tracked down some of his own cufflinks, then opting instead for a scarf and jacket, the former from B'er's own collection.

He set about dressing his weyrmate, before tugging him down and running his fingers through Sebol's hair to make him moderately presentable - regardless, B'er was never ashamed of his other half. He'd worked exceedingly hard, after all, to get the other man where he was now, and it was with that sort of admirable pride that he went anywhere with the taller man. Fingers hooked in the beltline of his lover's slacks, pulling him nearer in order to loop the leather through them and fasten the buckle, then gently cuff and roll the sleeves. The scarf was looped around his neck, affixed with a stained glass leaf pin with silver backings, and then the jacket put around his shoulders and buttoned.

"There. Layers that I can enjoy peeling you out of once we've had a share of wine, mmmm?"

Another gentle hook of a finger in Sebol's waistband, and B'er pulled him down to sit on the bed so that the Blackrider could briefly step between his knees and have access to the some near-foot-taller than him man's lips.

"I won't tell you to behave, I know you won't. But we'll figure it out together, won't we." The hesitation wasn't missed, and he caught Sebol's chin with his one hand before drawing the other man's eyes his way. "She's not going anywhere. Promise. I'll track her down for you myself, if I must. She'll be fine, she's stayed with you through the worst, she won't leave you for the best, now will she?"

A gentle bite to his lover's lower lip, before B'er hitched his cane and backed up, tugging Sebol to his feet.

"Come on, before I dress you like a wher and ride you somewhere else."

@Ruin


PM
^
Catsitta
 Posted: Feb 13 2018, 09:24 PM
Quote
Weyrlingmaster





N/A


846 Posts
0 Marks
Member Inventory: View




A kiss on the cheek; a murmur into his ear. L'aars let Frayya place his palm on her belly, at awe of the life within. He skimmes the curvature of her stomach briefly, before allowing it to fall back to his side. Music played. People twirled and laughed, the room a sea of endless color and noise. One could lose all sense of self and direction in the dizzying display. But he was focused. Too caught up in this little world they made to find distraction in the frivolity.

"I do not," he replied, his words for her alone, mouth close to her ear. By now, leaning down was habit, Frayya far shorter than he. "Then again, neither do you if I recall." L'aars grasped her hand and gently, so very gently, tugged her close, swaying off beat to the ballad the harpers played. A part of him marveled at how he'd come to this moment--not quite gaping in disbelief, but unsure all the same. It was the same part that yearned for this very thing for Turns, spurred by the loss of his son and fueled further by seasons of single-minded working. He worked hard, but with a woman in his weyr most mornings he felt...more whole.

He thought back to their meeting. Sixwith invading his weyr and rearranging his furniture; Frayya desperately trying to put everything back in place before the owner's return. His and Jaireth's amusement and the odd flirtations that followed. He was certain that the him then had no idea that Frayya's declaration about finding a suitable father for her child would lead to him being said father. And that he would be sharing the very weyr she invaded.

Jaireth was more or less used to sharing by now. Not that it took that long. Even if she was odd, she was female and the iron was a sucker for her...feminine wiles? Or whatever it was he saw in the females of his species.

.

@Ivy


PMEmail
^
Tobes
 Posted: Feb 13 2018, 11:54 PM
Quote
Wingrider





N/A


170 Posts
2571 Marks
Member Inventory: View




I find happiness in your happiness. It confused him, but there was no upset at the connection. Would anyone have guessed to find the dour, wing-dragging hatchling of four turns ago now cavorting on the Weyrwall for all to see? W’ryn certainly had not, and even then was wrapping their head around what a nurtured, sheltered love could turn one into. While she twirled he stuck out one forepaw, then the other, letting the White brace herself to spin against him. He could not hope to keep his balance the way she could, but he bobbed his head to the tune of of the Harpers’ ballad, and flared his wings around Rivath as she twirled, hiding and then revealing her again like veils. Not to obscure--he could no more want to hide her than he would want to hide the moon--but to add mystery to her movements, so that one never knew precisely how it was she moved so quickly from one position to the next. No, I would not fit. Even if there are none of them at all. I am glad you are here with me instead, with the stars and the open sky.

W’ryn stared at the goldentine for a long while, at once grateful for and chafing at Ulian’s endless patience. Their words had petered out into a silence broken only others’ revelries. There was something enticing about holding everything here in this moment, where they had revealed their hand but did not yet know how the rest of the cards lay. But you could not stay in that moment forever, not even Ulian was that patient, and so they opened the gift and smoothed it gently against the table. Already their eyes had gone wide--being greeted with pages when they had expected… well, they did not know what they had expected, although it was always easiest to let one’s imagination run to the worst, as Ulian well knew.

They read slowly, sometimes clearly going over the words twice, their own hand going still against the other’s. Then the final words, and they were looking back up into Ulian’s face behind its feathers and beads. And then masks were too much to bear, and W’ryn was pulling their own off with one hand while the other found its way to Ulian’s cheek, and they were very nearly crawling into their lap as they pressed a kiss against the Whiterider’s lips. Then several more, because once W’ryn had started they found that they had little desire to stop, and it was like Flying all over again but without fear and shame to hold desire at bay. They did not even have much mind left over to worry about lack of experience--enthusiasm would have to make up the difference, and they had that to spare. The knowledge of an entire cavern’s worth of revelers was not enough to stop them, inappropriate as the display was, but maybe everyone expected no less of dragonriders. And even that knowledge fell away, music and all, caught up in the narrow space of shared breath and the tinkling of glass beads.

They must have stopped at some point for words were tumbling out again, though they breathed them against Ulian’s skin while their hands were tangling in a white fall of braids. “This is me askin’ you. I am yours for the night--for the nights after too, and the days, for as long as it’s right.” They pulled away, just a few inches, some old and familiar mischief glinting in their eyes. “I en’t wanted to yell at you for... minutes, at least, and only ‘cause you’re so calm about everything always. If I can’t get a rise out’ve you I’ll settle for scandalizin’ your poor Candidates.” It was easier to tease than to admit their own open-hearted vulnerability in the moment.

@Ruin
PMEmail
^
Captain
 Posted: Feb 14 2018, 01:17 AM
Quote
Wherlingmaster





N/A


252 Posts
515 Marks
Member Inventory: View




Zaela
@Catsitta

Zaela was immediately suspicious and pulled her arm closer to her stomach. Her frown could be seen, her mask only covering the upper half of her face. Her distrust was almost tangible, though she said nothing for what seemed like too long, until a mental nudge from Nektisuth reminded her that talking was the polite thing.

"Oh!" She blurted out, immediately admonishing herself for her fumbling ways. The blush that crept up her cheeks was unwelcome and try as she might she couldn't fight it down. I'll wind up matching my mask at this rate, she complained.
Then you'll be beautiful just like me!

Ignoring her dragon's misplaced enthusiasm, Zaela shook her head. "I can't dance," she admitted with a shrug. It was unimportant. She didn't need to know how to dance to fly. She'd never bothered learning because she'd never needed to.

Her train of thought was interrupted as a green flit popped into existence by Zen's head and immediately went for the beads, latching on to the man's chest to pluck at them with one paw. "Oh, Thief, no!" Zaela called out, rising to her feet and closing the distance between herself and the harper, grabbing the flit. "Sorry, she's... Well, a thief... Did she ruin anything?" Her concern was evident, though it quickly was shielded away behind the walls she put up, vanishing from her face as soon as she realized she was showing it.

Vatalian
@Rii (If you want! Let me know!)

Vatask was blue. Kind of. Mostly she looked brown, but she insisted she was blue and that was all that mattered because she was in disguise. And was, clearly, having a blast. Vatalian, on the other hand, was mostly complaining because he'd gone through all the trouble of having an orange mask fashioned and now they didn't match. Nevermind that his tunic was brown, the swath of fabric that served as a belt bright orange to match and knee high black boots over black pants.

Vatask was dressed to kill, if a wher could be such a thing, and latched on to her handler's side. Even smeared with paint as she was, she bore a heavy collar of what looked like gold with orange gemstones set in it. It suited her in her arrogant step as she settled in beside Vatalian, whom was nursing a mug of klah and fingering the broach (that looked suspiciously like Vatask) pinned to his shirt. His adoration of his little (though, not as little as she had been) wher was evident.

Pavir
Open. Prefer moving to a separate thread.

Pavir was well aware of his father's presence. The brownrider had met him and greeted him like they'd known one another Pavir's entire life, when that hadn't been the case. He was clearly proud of Pavisk and heaped praise upon the bluehandler, something that left the former guard a little wary. He spared the rider a nod when he entered, dressed completely in blue with a grotesque mask that was, clearly, meant to be Pavisk. The wher had been absolutely tickled with it and had drooled in his excitement.

The blue was absent now, however. Off, no doubt, making a mess somewhere or rearranging the room to better suit him. Pavir tried not to think about it. He settled down on a bench, content to nibble at food and drink his wine and watch everyone else. He was still new here, wherlingmaster or not. He didn't know many people.

Qivi
@Ivy - New thread?

Qivi, as per usual, did nothing to contain her excitement. She let out a cry of delight and rounded on Rider, clutching the goldentine to her chest without even reading it and taking in his costume with a gasp of approval. "You look wonderful, O Mystery Man! Who's shirt I am not giving back until he comes to get it." She grinned at him, not that he could see, but it reached her eyes and she threw her arms up to hug him.

"How's," she paused, trying to keep up the 'game' she'd imposed on them while still making polite inquiries. "Mystery-esk?" She wrinkled her nose, head tipping to the side as she clearly debated whether or not she actually liked that nickname, and shrugged it off in true Qivi fashion, grabbing Rider's hand. "Come on, we have to dance!"

V'ax
Open

V'ax was having a grand time. Even with his weyrling knots visible for all to see, he was still finding a way to enjoy himself. He was armed with juice and and a mask that looked like a pillie. He wandered through the crowd, waving to those he knew and pausing to compliment their outfits, but usually not lingering long.

He hadn't found anyone to dance with, which was a terrible shame, though he knew his time would come!



Captain's Crew
Pressganged - Captain's Wanteds
Lady Holder Baria of Western
X'vir of Brown Oth | Ems of Blue Kapth | Wa'ut of Blue Qith
L'ru of Green Syrath | Z'ant of Green Lyraleth
Zaela of Pink Nektisuth | Qivi of Black Dekandaeth | V'ax of Cyan Purlalith
Vatalian of Orange Vatask | Pavir of Blue Pavisk | Setarii of Black Setask
Inali, Havenrute, Navenax, Felrin, Uonai
PM
^
Ruriko
 Posted: Feb 14 2018, 01:42 AM
Quote
Weyrlingmaster





N/A


531 Posts
110 Marks
Member Inventory: View




Caden - @RhiaBlack

If her new Master had not prodded, albeit gently and insistently, that she at least go one day to her new Weyr's masque, Caden never would have. She didn't really care about some redundant event, made more for lovers and those who enjoyed such vain affairs. She had no use for these kinds of things any longer. She had no silly, frivolous girlfriends to giggle and point at the males with, and nor was she the sort who would have done so anyways. She was more prone to bemusement at the antics of teenage girls who behaved as though hormones drove everything they did--or at least had been. She, for one, would not be attempting to drag someone back to her furs. Anyone who tried to engage her for such purposes as flirting and hopes of such a thing would be sorely disappointed.

She was hardly dressed for the occasion, and yet she did have a mask. A mask she had fashioned herself, of a collection of avian feathers. It looked much like a Brumble, in truth, though with more white and striped feathers. The back of the mask was made of polished wood, as was the beak. It was certainly unique, if nothing else. The outfit she wore was a tunic that matched the dark brown of the feathers, belted about the midsection with a leather belt, and soft black leather trousers, not so clinging as some, but still form-fitting. The tunic came down to her upper thigh. She wore a necklace made from the same feathers, and a few hung on the left side of her belt, longer and shorter, and hanging in different lengths so that it appeared longer overall. It wasn't the typical outfit worn here, but she didn't care about that, either.

She had lost everything, and cared about very little. Charth, her family, her life in any way she had ever known it. If she did a thing, it was to always be doing something. To keep busy, no matter what. To keep her thoughts occupied was to avoid thinking about what she'd lost, and it was unbearable to do so. She made a point to not be alone, even though she did not care much for the company of others very much. It served a purpose to be here, and so she was. Surrounded by people in their varying masks and style of dress, she had something to occupy her mind. She stood quietly up against the wall of the dining hall, not expecting to be approached. She found herself idly watching a drudge with what appeared to be a newly hatched bronze firelizard on his shoulder. Her eyes were always inadvertently drawn to anything dragon kin. Especially dragons, and their smaller kin the firelizards. She wanted to look away, but she rebelliously forced herself to not do so.

She couldn't have known that she was thinking much the same as the drudge: this was not for people like her. It was for those who were alive in a truer sense, and happy to be here. She had no interest in being approached for romantic pursuits whatsoever. If she had a way to show it besides the hard, flat stare of golden-brown eyes out of her mask, she would have done so. The drudge was gathering dirty dishes and bringing them to the kitchens. Perhaps because she felt ill at ease standing still, she moved to do what she did next, going to the table he had partially cleared, and picking up the remaining dishes. She ignored the side eye she got--she was clearly not drudge herself--and carried the dishes into the kitchens. She didn't particularly know what to do with them, but spotted the drudge, and sensibly decided that he would.

"What do I do with these?" The tone of voice was that of someone who might have been giving an order, and yet the inflection was not quite right. It was too flat, tinged with something that might have been irritation, though the eyes that looked out from the feathered mask were just as flat as the tone. They also might have dared the drudge to say something about her doing what was a drudge's work--not an apprentice's. She was pointedly not looking at the firelizard, but she felt a sickening feeling in her stomach that she fought down, simply because it was there whether she looked or no, and even with her eyes on the drudge's face--having to look up at him as she was--she could see it just as clearly as she had.




Keirian

Now that he was a Journeyman, for some reason--perhaps being at a Weyr and surrounded by dragonriders and wherhandlers--Keir had been mulling over the fact that in a few turns, that chance would be gone. He'd always considered having to take care of a dragon or wher a lot of useless work. Still, there were no higher individuals in all of Pern than those who Impressed dragons or whers. Not really. Harpers and Healers came close enough, though everyone knew it was dragonriders who had something everyone else wanted. Whers were the next closest thing to that. He'd never wanted to bother with one before though. Too much sharding work. Who in Faranth's name wanted more work? Yet the thought lingered, eating away at a corner of his mind, and he did not enjoy it in the least.

He didn't miss the way the teen turned to look directly at where he'd moments ago seen Z'dyn standing. Mental note: papa wher might be watching. Well, let him watch. He hadn't missed the man with Z'dyn. Nor their proximity, or what Keir figured was possibly going on there. Not that he cared. Weyrleader or not, the man could sharding do what he pleased in that department. Any deadglow who bothered to bitch about it would be a total wherry-brained fool; after all, Z'dyn would probably not give a shard. He himself wouldn't be crossing the wall of a man any time soon, he mused yet again. As for Kyzekeidon...well, he might not have known exactly how seriously the candidate took being a weyrling. Like anyone remotely educated about weyrlinghood--and Keirian was, for he made it a practice to know a bit about everything he could, and had been warned away from trying to pursue a weyrling before--he knew exactly what was at risk if a weyrling were to screw up. He, too, had met dragonless, and knew exactly how truly terrible a thing it was. Even he wasn't selfish enough to risk something like that; seeing especially as how he preferred non-human creatures over humans, this would come as no surprise to anyone who actually got to know him at all.

"That's not iron there?" With one finger he made a circular motion around his face, refusing to admit that in the lighting, he'd mistaken more of it for iron in color than it was. He shrugged it off, dismissing his own query as rhetorical, not willing to waste his breath arguing it if it came to that, as Kyzekeidon was mostly correct. Mostly. The fact that the dark haired candidate had made it himself came as a bit of a surprise. "You made it yourself?" Beneath the mask, a brow was lifted. Fourteen and he'd made it himself...go figure. The candidate was full of surprises. "Pretty sharding good. Should've sold some masks, if you didn't already. This event you'd make a pretty mark off of something as decent as that one you're wearing." Practical, the compliment was more about a making marks than about praising the dark eyed teen's skill. Yet he wasn't flattering--at least not now. He had expected the younger teen to have bought the mask, not made it himself. "Artistic skills run in your family?" He jerked his head lightly in Z'dyn's general direction. Somehow he did not picture the big Weyrleader as doing anything like making masks or even sculpting or painting. It just didn't fit right in his head. Still, if his son could, he must've got it from somewhere. Maybe his mother. He himself had an amazing--though admittedly extremely unique--voice. Or so he had been told when he'd been overheard. He hadn't been happy to be overheard, and had told the nosy bitch so himself--in those exact words. He had been in a bad mood that day, and he didn't let anyone hear him singing, if he had any say whatsoever about it. She'd come into his room unannounced, so it had served her right, in his opinion.

"That's hardly a difficult venture," Keirian replied, his tone flat and bored. "Too easy. No real challenge here. No one wants to feel undesired at the most romantic time of the turn." He didn't bother to hide the sarcasm. There was no easier time to 'woo potential bedmates' than during an event like this. He had already caught several pairs of eyes on himself, from persons of both genders. Anyone remotely attractive, tall, well built...they would all have at least a few individuals eyeing them up. People were drinking and inhibitions were lowering. They were feeling the sexual tension in the air, at least among the adults, and being affected by it themselves. Those who had partners would probably be going back to their weyrs or rooms with them. Those who didn't and could would be either prudes who wanted none of it, or searching for bed partners of their own. Keir had been rather surprised to see there were children present, and then again not. Sex and the realities of it wasn't really hidden from children. Any of them old enough to understand, would have some inkling in the least. Those who were too young would not even be paying attention.

The tall Journeyman was far closer to never Impressing a dragon, but nor had he made it his life's ambition. He had flung himself into the craft of his choice, not content to be a drudge or a 'nobody'. He might have been a Healer, if he didn't hate the idea of doing exactly what someone else wanted him to do. He'd never had a real direction, save to make life what he felt it ought to be--easy enough but not boring. He would have found he enjoyed a challenge, if he'd ever truly felt he had one. He did not like to be bored, and boredom would not be found in the life of a dragonrider or wherhandler. Having a mind-mate would likely give him something he did not even know he was lacking. Still, he had never seriously given it thought, and would soon have cause to.

Rosian - @Boo, @Ivy, @Catsitta

Sia was not aware that her father had a firelizard keeping a close eye on her, and to a six turn old little girl, it made no difference if a friend was a boy or girl. Some little girls might think that boys had 'cooties' at this age. Not Rosian. Her daddy was a boy, and she loved him lots! To her, boys were just people like girls. Everyone was welcome as a friend.

Before she was suddenly addressed by Peiyn, she was busy looking at everyone's masks, and lamenting that she had not been able to bring her own. If she was here with her mother or father, then it would probably have been okay. A nice Harper girl named Azaril had helped her to paint it, and she really, really wished she had it on. The feline mask had been white, red and black. Azaril had been very good at painting, and did her best to make it as she had described it to her. She wondered if she couldn't wear it tomorrow, maybe, if she stuck by her mother or father. Probably she could.

Rosian didn't seem at all phased by the abrupt question, and merely turned and offered a small smile to the boy behind her.

"Taylei. She's doing dragon and wher faces too. Also firelizards. Did you want your face painted too?" She also did not seem concerned with what the boy did or did not wear in the least. She was merely happy that he had come to join her a the masque. In response to his other question, she gazed around to see if she might spot Cess or Hilrat. She knew Hilrat would be coming for sure, but she wasn't certain about Cess. "It is," she agreed mildly, and then, "Hilrat for sure. Maybe Cesselia. Do you know them? Maybe they told more to come." While she wasn't exactly a mischievous girl, Sia could likely be persuaded to go along with something that seemed like a fun and harmless enough idea. She was only six, though nearly seven, and pranks were certainly not something she would say 'no' to, unless she thought people would get hurt from them.
PMEmail
^

Topic Options
Pages: (2) 1 2 
Add Reply
New Topic


 


 


Chatbox
1. No advertising.

2. No in-depth discussion of highly personal issues, incl. medical issues affecting you, your family or friends, or your pets. Do not ask for medical advice in the cbox.

3. Please refrain from explicit description of illegal, violent or gross subjects. Be mindful of your fellow members and guests to the site.

4. Important communications for staff should be sent via PM - just because someone is on the site does not mean they are looking at the cbox! :)


Cbox Mods: Ruin, Rii, Ivy
Affiliates