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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 nine years.

Winter, 18th Turn, 11th Pass

Upcoming Flights/Runs:
Red Ingoth

Upcoming Hatchings:

Winter is in full swing as the Northwest reaches the middle stages of the cold month, and Dalibor, taking full advantage of a crackdust filled break in Threadfall, is back at it again. Delving into the Southern ice and snow, they have paired with Grove Weyr to fully explore the lands they only slightly uncovered the previous turn during the Jungle Expedition. This, however, will not be a warm and relaxing waltz through the woods; although was it ever that to begin with?
Rayna of Gold Couineth - Boo

Z'dyn of Iron Baihujinth - Rhia

Jr. Weyrwoman
Jali of Copper Laanasuth - Rii

Jr. Weyrleader
Os'nin of Blue Alwanath - Aerona

Norla of Bronze Norsk - Ives

Oreanda of Bronze Osk & Blue Oresk - Ruin
Der of Grey Desk - Rii

K'ton of Blue Ironth- Jenn
S'vor of Green Absinth - Ruriko
Nia of Pink Koeneth - Catsitta

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

Ulian of White Rivath - Ruin
Zanii of Black Zansk - Leo





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.

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 Deep Blue Everythings, Aquamarine Graduation Feast
 Posted: Aug 5 2016, 01:30 AM

N/A Posts

Jafari was so sharing proud. His second class, and all of whom had made his tenure as Wherlingmaster fun. Not that his first hadn't. Really, Jafari just loved his position. He cuddled his daughter close and kissed her forehead before handing her off to her mother. Saowyn also got a kiss before he headed up to the small gathering. Feasts for Wherlings were always hit or miss on whether they would get any great attention and even now it seemed most of the weyr had chosen to remain abed. No wonder. With the spring came Fall, and Fall meant work. Even so there were enough there to make this a decent celebration.

He lifted his hands. Aqua-maries coming forward. Aided by his iron Bonded, Jafari got the attention of those in the room. The wherlings came forward and stood before him.

"Aquamarine. You've been an admirable class. From the very beginning you all have worked to be the best Handlers you can be." He glanced over them all, a rush of pride in his gaze. "With all the hardships and setbacks each of you have faced trying to adjust to your Bonds, you all have done beautifully. You have met your challenges with grace and determination. Steadfast even in the most trying times, I couldn't have asked for a better class of wherlings. You all do this weyr proud. Come forward and receive your knew knots and join the best Pride of them all - Dalibor's Pride."

One by one he called them up. Jafari started with Yenyne and Sutekh, moved through Bozidar and Zeryne, and ended with Norla. Each of them traded their old knots for new ones. For each he gave either a few words of congradulations or a strong clasp of the shoulder depending on preference. He was happy - thrilled - to watch them return as graduates.

"And now, with that over, go and enjoy yourselves. I don't want to see your faces again tonight, and that's an order!" With deep humor he dismissed them. The grown man, no longer wherling or awkward Pride-member, returned to his wife and asked for a dance.

@Raining, @RhiaBlack, @Rii, @Minute, @Ivy
 Posted: Aug 5 2016, 06:54 PM

N/A Posts

It was so late, or early? He couldn't exactly tell. But it was late enough that he had a mug of klah instead of his usual wine, hoping that would be enough to keep him up. Although he barely felt the sleepiness... his nerves were on fire and not for any negative reason. This was the night he was waiting for since his Weyrmate was whisked away from his weyr with an obnoxious, vibrantly colored dragonkin. Although from what it looked like... it was for the better. His lover never looked more alive, and he would forever be grateful to Bosk, though would never admit that out-loud (to Bosk anyway).

The bluerider was clean, prim and dressed to his liking. Although, instead of his usual assortment of silver rings... he only wore one. That gold band has rarely left the finger. No matter people's glances, or his own feelings about it, it was something he wore proudly (like everything he wore). He was in his usual attire, mainly in black leather, but instead of a jacket he just wore a black dress shirt with the collar pulled up and close to his neck.

An arm was folded across his torso, his mug hanging from that hand, fingers gripping the top. The elbow of his other arm was propped on top of his forearm, hand around his chin with a finger tapping his cheek. His eyes were on Jafari briefly as he'd began talking, before flickering to his intended. Though he appeared to be lax, he couldn't have been happier and more proud of Bo. Him being here at this graduation, with Bo just there was the final stepping stone he needed to erase past apprehension, regret and hurt from his last love. Everything thus far has been exactly what O'men and Bo said it would. Neither have strung him along, have coerced him to give them his heart, and then ended up lying or changing something.

Everything was fine, and he attended Bo's graduation without a doubt in his mind or heart that everything was going to be fine. It was a startling realization in itself, because Da'on was a cynic, and he was always preparing himself for the worst. It had been done so often that he was never disappointed when it happened (unless trust had been given).

The finger tapping increased as Bo was handed his new knots and the wherlings were effectively dismissed. Now fully-fledged Handlers. Da'on sucked in a breath and he moved through the gathering of people towards the direction Bozidar was heading. Which was probably towards him, if Bosk had gotten a whiff...


 Posted: Aug 5 2016, 08:13 PM
Senior Weyrleader

Wrangler of Muses

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Stood at the cold face, stood with our backs to the sun
I can’t remember being nothing but fearless and young
We’ve become echoes, but echoes that fade away
We fall into the dark as we dive under the wave (I heard you say)...

As soon as Da'on entered the room, Bosk knew. The Viridian's eyes had been scanning for him; not because Bozidar desperately wanted his fiance's face to be the first thing he saw once he got his Handler's knots, but because if he wasn't there, Bosk had every intention of biting his scrawny little bluerider-backside until Da'on forgot what it was like to sit down.

Shhhh. He'll hear you.
Bosk not worry. Want hear. Tell two-legger not show up, make regret. Tell Bosk self, not scare.

Bo was struggling to hide his laughter, covering his mouth with one calloused hand to mask the grin-turned-smile and force himself to retain a straight face. He cleared his throat, and Bosk huffed, registering Da'on and filing the image away for once His got their new knots. If he told Bo beforehand, there would be no focus from his beloved chosen. Bosk nipped His' thigh, turning Bo the right way - with some help from Sutekh - before the bright green wheret-turned-wher booped Ssk and Yenysk in greeting and quiet congratulations.

Best group whers ever to grad-you-ate Dalibor. Proud of. Look forward, maybe patrol with Ssk, Yenysk.

Puffing his chest out, Bosk was stalwart and respectable as His received his new knots. Bo's eyes were covered with their white sash, but it was for a reason. Bosk curled his thick tail around Bo's ankle, a subtle display of reinforcement.

Not cry.
I'm not.
Eyes leaking, not cry. Bosk tell before, not look like sissy-Handler. Be strong, like Bosk. Bosk's know not big deal, we Handler-pair now, will be oki-day.
It's a big deal to me. It's been a long time since I felt worth something.
Bosk here, now,
the Viridian privately soothed His. Worth something all times, now. Is Handler, soon hus-been, maybe Pridesecond, leader some day? We see. Need start small first, work hard.

Bo hastily wiped at his face, as the tears soaked through his blindfold. He hid it with a deep bow towards Jafari, catching the Wherlingmaster's hand and holding it to keep him from moving on, if only for a moment.

"Thank you," he spoke up quietly. "For everything."

As soon as they were dismissed, Bo's head turned. Bosk knew who he was looking for, and the Viridian showed him.

Go. Bosk catch up. Try not trip, NO RUN. WALK. Bosk bite, if run, will know.

Bozidar had waited eighteen long months for this moment. To be a Handler, completely, to be bonded to a creature of respect that would make sure he was never abused again. The ring on his own finger glinted in the glowlight as Bozidar's hands came out, gently guiding others from in front of him. Bosk was walking behind him, but he let His sort it all out on his own.

Bosk showed him Da'on, as the pair approached. Bo reached down, and gently pulled the klah from his fiance's hand, setting it on a nearby table before both arms essentially bear-hugged the slightly smaller man with a force that betrayed how much chores and patrols with other Handlers had done for his physical state. No more was Bo skin and bones with stretched muscle between. There was substance to his frame, there was a man under there who wore his many, many scars and broken bones as a badge of honor to what he'd been through.

He hugged Da'on so hard Bosk had to remind him to let the Bluerider breathe, and he wept. He cried like a child against the raised collar of his beloved, hiding his face with the shame of being a grown man in such a state, but where in former ages he might have cared for others to see, now he didn't. Bosk sat beside His, waiting patiently for Bo to deal with the influx of emotions.

No more going back to a dark hole with a cot and his wher. No more dealing with the chill that waited outside his furs, and only his own body to earn the warmth to save him. No more loneliness. No more horrible dreams of cave-ins and creeping storms. No, now he was back where he and Bosk truly belonged, where Bosk had found him - in the sky. Up a wall where only those with dragons could ever reach him, safe in the arms of a man who had turned his entire life into one with purpose. Not even Ijo had driven Bozidar so hard to become someone.

"I love you," he cried, arms tightening again, body pressing close with a desperation that spoke of fear. A concern that if he let Da'on go again, the face in his head, the scent of the other part of his soul, he'd vanish without a trace and Bo would be left alone in the dark once more. "I love you, and I missed you so much...." He cried harder, sobbed against Da'on's shoulder and was grateful that his rust-red dreadlocks hid most of his loss of composure.

"Don't let me go. Please don't ever let me go again."

@Kiran, @Raining, @Rii

Sutekh had his own plans. Ssk was much too large by now to carry about, but the purple-Blue had filled out with a pleasant manner that made him an asset. He looked incredible, in Sutty's opinion, and the Weaver was proud to have a bonded as level-headed and proper as his current one. He looked forward to working with his beloved wher, and Ssk looked up at him with a wherish grin, knowing facets whirling a calm, contented blue as he bumped His towards Yenyne.

Sutty couldn't be happier that she had Impressed at the same time. He rather enjoyed her company, and having her as a willing 'clothes-runner' for his creations was always lovely. Her porcelin skin set off his work in ways that other women and men never could; he adored the looks on her face when he gifted his hard work to her. If it were up to the gargantuan man, his china doll would never be without pretty things ever again. Much as Da'on had done for Bozidar, Yenyne was Sutekh's driving force. She was what motivated him to create, she inspired him in so many ways, and yet the gentleman that he was would never betray that to her. Some things just weren't to be relayed between friends.

Much as he wished they were more than. But he wasn't about to push the subject. If she was interested in anything more, she'd let him know; for now, he was content to remain as they were.

His hand dropped down to offer to her, and he smiled shyly her way.

"Congratulations, Yenyne," he pilfered a glass of white wine from a passing weyrfolk. "I would be honored if you would grace me with your presence for a dance. If, of course, you're so inclined. I don't want to intervene if there are others you'd rather spend your evening with?"
Ssk think it is destiny, spend night dance with Ssk's. Yenysk come with Ssk for snack? Believe it also destiny to find many tasty thing close to table. Maybe make sad-face at weyrfolk, they give?

Sutekh leaned heavily on his cane, as Nenet and Neith bickered between one another before his tiny little Greens alighted on Ssk's shoulders. Food sounded like a plan. Theirs couldn't get into much trouble with a bad leg, could he?

"I was hoping," he added in quietly, "That you might share a walk with me on the beachfront, once the festivities have ended, and all. Given that the season's changed, this might be the only few nights we have without work."


Mutorin licked his lips, using a napkin to remove the grease from his meatroll from them. Musk had already undertaken his customary Feast position - beside the banquet table, to catch any would-be scraps that might be dropped, and had apparently rubbed these plans off on some of the less-schooled wherlings at some point or another. Mutt had done his part to foster a good share of plants to assist in supplanting a more substantial choice of vegetables and fruits for this batch of graduates and those in the Weyr who had attended; part of it had been orchestrated among the Farmcrafters within the Weyr, the rest had been obtained via some travel time with his nephew to bring them back from across Pern. Da'on was close to Z'dyn's heart in more than one way, and Mutt knew that the Bluerider was also his Al'dr's brother; on top of that, Da'on had a vested interest in this graduation.

Clearly, Mutt thought, as he watched Bozidar latch on to his lover with a ferocity that Mutt envied. Nobody had ever loved him like that, not since his wife had passed. The sight was one of few small things that both set him to brooding as well as brightened his spirits. He had no idea if Al'dr was even there; ever since he'd squirreled the Candidatemaster away after Keth's hatching, and they had practically laid everything bare as far as what Mutorin was interested in, and what Al'dr's conflicts were at K'ius' departure, he'd done his best not to pressure the younger Rider for any sort of attention. He was there and definitely engaged when Al'dr wanted him, but Keth's children had only chosen one official Candidate. His lover was busy with his charges, and Mutorin had admittedly no memory of what being a Candidate was like. He assumed it was constant work, and did his best to only leave small tokens of thought where he knew the Bluerider would find them.

Mutt was smitten, strongly so, but he also didn't wish to smother Al'dr with too much affection. He wasn't sure, at that, what was too much and what wasn't enough. His thought had been to inquire with Da'on about it, but the Wingsecond looked considerably occupied at the moment, and probably would be for some time. He sipped his wine, several glasses in by now and feeling the effects of good, quality alcohol. Scratching his chest, he leaned against the wall heavily as he set the emptied plate to one side, wiped his hands and face to remove the lingering remnants of his crime against the kitchens, and rinsed his mouth with another swallow of wine.

He itched for a good time. A dance, a song, anything to distract him from the face in his mind. The feel of a body against him that was so much different, the anger that came to tears against his chest. He didn't expect to see him at all, not tonight. If any of his Candidates had come, he was probably looking after them. He wouldn't have time for Mutorin, he suspected.

Mutt fingered the small boulder opal he'd found while digging about, probably dropped during one of the cargo deliveries and crushed into the dirt by herdbeast or dragon or wherpaws. Perhaps even footsteps. It was easy to miss things when one wasn't looking for them.

It perfectly matched Fortath's hide where the blue broke through. Mutorin thought it ironic, perhaps a sign, that it was intermixed with other blue shades that mirrored the lighter markings on the Blue's hide, as well as the ones on Musk's. All surrounded by brown, as if it were somehow some ordinary rock, and yet had the heart and broken portions that made it so unique. He had gotten it polished by one of the Smiths, but hadn't been sure if it was something to put into a ring or not.

So he'd bought one for that. The ring lingered in a small box, which was in his pocket; he intended to drop it off that evening, if he didn't run into Al'dr here. The stone, too, probably at the same time.


Let’s go out in flames so everyone knows who we are
Cuz these city walls never knew that we’d make it this far
We’ve become echoes, but echoes are fading away
So let’s dance like two shadows burning out the glory day..

 Posted: Aug 5 2016, 11:50 PM


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Nor-la. Norsk interrupted the string of thoughts playing through her mind and she blinked. Graduation. Was it really already time for that? Sure she had learned a lot about life in the Weyr, about Norsk, herself, and being a handler... but did Jafari really think that she was ready? Be the best, Norsk told this. Many time. Be listen!

Norsk's snout lifted a few inches to gently nudge His' cheek, earning a smile from the young woman. Moving to stand with the other wherlings she listened and watched as he offered up knots and assignments to all of the other wherlings - now handlers - beginning to worry as her name wasn't immediately called. Be wait easy, he say Nor-la. There was no need to worry of course, her name came shortly after the others. Be telling you. Letted brothers' go first; save best for last.

Approaching the Wherlingmaster she bowed her head politely and exchanged her wherling knots for her handler knots. We're the only ones from our class that were assigned to Epsilon, is that bad?

Nor-la be too worry. Ep-si-lon be good. Norsk and Nor-la be good. Eat food stuffs. Dance. Clutching the knots in her hand she hurried away disappearing into the crowd as best she could with a bronze wher in tow. You're a tad big now, you know.

Nor-la no be know dancing?

Learning to dance wasn't really important where I'm from. Picking her way through the crowd it took longer than it should have for her to realize she had lost her bronze shadow; not noticing until she found an empty seat to sit in. You left me?

Never be leaving Nor-la. Too much people be stepping on inside. Wait outside. Nor-la no rush. Be learning dance.

No promises in that regard. Eyes shifted around the room nervously. Two turns in the Weyr and yet anytime she found herself in overly social situations she closed up and fell back into old habits. She had passed up other empty seats without thinking about it, favoring instead the one that left her back near a wall to prevent allowing others to sneak up on her. A cup was accepted from one of the drudges but before she took a sip she gave a soft sniff of the liquid. Sighing she looked around the hall, foot tapping under the table as the harpers began their song. I'm proud of you, Norsk.

Be proud of Nor-la too. Best pair.


It wasn't really her scene yet at the same time it kind of was. After all the rider was keen on being social even if she actually wasn't really the social butterfly she had been before coming to Dalibor. Shards, she'd been around for awhile now hadn't she? A smile was filtered out onto her features and kept in check; it would be a pity to seem too eager right away and gain the wrong attention from someone in the crowd. Blue eyes shifted from one shoulder to the next, mostly handlers with a few riders mixed in. The cyanrider had not expected otherwise given the hour of the evening but a feast was a feast! Wine, music, dancing, and the chance to make new friends.

Eyes continued to shift about the room without lingering too long on any one person, perhaps she was actually seeking out an old friend instead? Side-stepping people who were busy talking, a few couples dancing, and those who were trying to make their way to the newest handlers Dalibor had to offer she found the weyrfolk in charge of the wine. "Thank you, is it local?", she asked as her cup was filled with crimson liquid just a shade or two darker than her hair, offering a smile and nod no matter the response. Wine was wine and while some was definitely better than others she was not particularly picky.

You should be sleeping. Mysqith piped up grumpily from their weyr ledge. Do not bring anyone back with you.

I'm just here to enjoy myself!

Yes, I know.

[[Open for tags!]]

 Posted: Aug 6 2016, 09:02 PM

N/A Posts

@RhiaBlack (Bo and Mutt)

If Bozidar hadn't taken his mug... he probably would have dropped it anyway -- or their clothes would have been collateral damage. Neither, in this moment, would have cared much.

At least this time Da'on didn't need to brace himself as the last time he'd had spent time with Bozidar properly, the man nearly tackled him into the table. If Bo's hug didn't knock the air from his lungs, it trapped it instead and his breath came out only a bit strangled before the hold was lessened just a bit. The bluerider didn't seem to notice or mind, because his arms found purchase around the Viridian Handler and he held him tightly (just not as tightly). His brows furrowed some as he fought against his own torrent of sudden emotion... but he was much better at that game than Bo was... That was very obvious by the way his lover's shoulder's shook slightly, and of course by what he could hear.

"Oh darling.." he spoke softly, near cooing as a hand reached up through the man's red braids and scratched lightly at Bo's scalp. His soon-to-be-husbands were so emotional... but he didn't mind at all. Where Da'on hid a large chunk of his or at least subdued it, there had to be a balance somewhere. Bo tended to tip that balance, but Da'on didn't care nor did he try and stop it. He held his now Handler weyrmate and let him cry it out, although Da'on's breaths came out rather measured.

When Bo's hold tightened again, Da'on brought a hand against his face (if he was able to pull away that tiny bit at all). "Shhh, love shh. Its okay now," he soothed not the crying, but the sudden anxiety. "I am not going anywhere, my heart. You are most definitely not going anywhere." He continued to speak softly, eventually leaning in to press his cheek against Bo's, speaking against his ear. "We are stuck with you, and you with us. With me. For as long as we all still breathe."

He no longer had to be conservative, no longer had to worry about boundaries (that has been a good quarter of their story thus far, hasn't it). Bo was no longer a candidate, no longer a wherling... no longer untouchable. There was nothing in the foreseeable future where a line would have to be drawn, not if Da'on could help it. "I love you," he said finally, turning his head to lean into the crook of Bo's neck. "You aren't leaving, ever again."


What are you thinking asked the blue, with one eye cracked open from his couch. He peered at His who sat on the edge of his bed, dressed in black and blue. Nothing overly dressy, as Al'dr wasn't overly excited about "nice" clothing. But he had some due to his brother's insisting, which was what he was wearing. But since he'd sat, putting on his shoes... he hadn't gotten up. He had to go, because he was sure his little night crawlers were probably going to want to attend and he wanted to be a presence, rather than let his Flitters do all the work. One of these days he was going to insist the Weyr work a little harder in finding a Wher Candidate, Candidatemaster... because his sleep schedule was all kinds of not there.

You know what i'm thinking
I would rather hear it from you, instead of scattered feelings and stuff.

Al'dr sighed audibly as he ran fingers through his hair, before rubbing his face and falling back against the bed. He struggled with himself for a moment, Mine? Fortath asked hesitantly.

"I don't know what i'm thinking Fort!" He snapped, sitting upright. Fortath had lifted his head, looking at little startled... but the drake relaxed. Al'dr's face fell a bit he opened his mouth to apologize but the blue swatted away the thought.

You're hurt. You're angry and... you miss him. You feel guilty for your feelings, you feel guilty for feeling them. You feel bad that you've been playing tug-o-war with Musk's... does that cover it, Al'drLove?

Al'dr paused and then nodded, "sounds about right..."
Come here

The Candidatemaster grit his teeth before rising from the bed and approaching his near floral patterned blue. He went to Fortath's keel and then slid down while the blue wrapped his arms close. You've argued your points to yourself, time and time again. You're happy when you're around him, and miserable alone. You are overthinking everything, and its a little silly. You need to completely make up your mind, or you're not the only one who will be in pain. You have been unhappy for a long time now. Why don't you let yourself be happy? You miss him. But that will ease overtime. Its not easy but I think Musk's can help you. But you have to fully let him.


Are you worried that nothing was ever communicated with you and he? About the... end?
Maybe. He was with his sick mother and I... was..
He left you alone for much longer than that. I saw him fight your affection. He had already decided where he stood. Unintentionally maybe... but Mine. He's gone. You mourn because you know he's gone for certain now. You no longer have to keep wondering. You no longer need to keep holding on to a sliver of him. You have someone here. Who has said he'd never leave.
Giving you space, but space isn't helping... so you need to decide whether you want to close the gap or remain feeling guilty, bitter and alone. I don't like... not being enough to help. You need more than my company.
Fortath craned his neck and Al'dr reached up to brush the underside of Fortath's chin. Its okay to be sad that he's gone. But its not good to shut everyone else out because you're in pain. The first step is to try and be happy, and you're happy around him. I see it, I feel it. Your goof isn't dim.

The last part effectively made Al'dr fight a smile, before he bit his bottom lip and took a deep breath. And it's okay to like him.

What would I do without you?
Probably be a Handler, or something. I'm sure your Wher partner wouldn't be as handsome as me. Plus not to oil my own hide... but I was the best wingman for when you met Musk's. That was so good it almost looked planned.

"I wouldn't have put it passed you," Al'dr snorted, flicking at the underside of Fortath's jaw. The dragon easily evaded the attack and grinned. "Alright. Lets see if I can stop moping for two seconds... and go out." Fortath bobbed his head in agreement Maybe Musk can bring me out some pilfered food.
You glutton.

Al'dr folded up the cuffs of his semi dressy blue shirt, pulling them up his forearms before settling in Fortath's paws.

He entered the Hall, tired... like any normal daytime person. But he was here, a bright reminder to his charges that they are still to behave. But he had his two blues and two greens around the Dining Hall to assist... just in case.

The bluerider vaguely wondered if he would be able to offer B-- oh nope nevermind. He shook his head when he saw his brother firmly hugged by the new Handler. He of course felt the pang of envy at the sight... but. Ah shard it. Al'dr approached them anyway because why not interrupt a beautiful reunion? "I don't mean to interrupt," smirked the Candidatemaster, "but I thought i'd come and say congrats to my hopefully still potential new brother?" He grinned, gaze shifting to Bo, "so congrats on graduating, you and Bosk. Welcome to the ranks, yeah?"

Da'on shifted his gaze elsewhere in the room and smiled a bit, "we appreciate the sentiment. But I think you have a certain someone waiting to see if you'll show~" replied the elder brother with a bit of a singsong tone. Though the "subliminal" message was clear 'run along now dear brother.'

Al'dr cleared his throat before scratching at his cheek, "partially why i'm here. That and my nightcrawling candidates," he shrugged once. "Catch you adorable love birds later." He waved with a cheeky smile before his gaze wandered the room until he found the man he'd come to see. Even if he was cleverly coerced by Fortath, who reiterated everything Al'dr told himself one hundred times over. But he needed to make a decision... and his presence here, or at least his effort in approaching Mutt first... was a sign.

"Hey, stranger," he greeted with an almost shy smile as his hands tucked themselves in his pockets as he approached him.

 Posted: Aug 7 2016, 02:35 PM

N/A Posts

A feast that she hadn’t had to help prepare, cook, and serve was still an odd novelty for Irrin, although she had to say she didn’t miss the work at all. Not that her task now was any easier, probably harder since food items hardly ever vanished without trace the second you took your eye off them. Or at least not of their own free will. Speaking of… Irrin moved quickly to pull her wher back out of the way of one of the serving drudges before she attempted to make friends with the man and the platter he bore by leaping up at him.

Urgh, quit! Irrisk fine! the young wher wriggled away and sighed soulfully as she gazed after the serving man and his delicious smelling foods. Irrisk looked around for the next thing. This was so exciting, she’d never been to a feast before! She spotted Musk hanging around the table laden with food and thought that a clever idea. Maybe, just maybe, she could do that too. She had seen it work for canines, and she was much cuter than canines, and Musk.

Irrisk spotted a victim with a full plate, and darted off as quickly as a thought to sit on her rump beside a random person and lay her head in their lap while gazing upward soulfully. Didn’t they want to feed her some of that?

Sionask walked through the crowd at his handler’s side, dwarfing Sion slightly as the solid beast’s shoulder was slightly higher than his handler’s and he lifted his head to meet the eye of humans and whers alike as he moved past them. In his own mind the bronze was a wise protector of his chosen and a benevolent master of his pack. Tonight his pack stretched to all the whers present, and Sionask met their minds with a gentle touch of greeting.

Sion did his best to act like he didn’t have a giant wher walking at his side, or rather like that was no big thing, which it wasn’t to him because Sionask was rarely away from him, it was just a little embarrassing in a crowd. Eventually Sion made his way to a clear space at the end of a table and began to empty the contents of his pockets out onto it. One of his firelizards had a compulsive stealing habit and none of the various items Sion was laying out on the table were actually his. He tended to confiscate things from Magpie and collect them, then leave them in public area for people to reclaim their things. Maybe it wasn’t a perfect system because it did rely on people not taking things that weren’t theirs, but he had to get rid of all this stuff somehow.

Feeling lighter, Sion turned to his giant shadow. “Sio, don’t you want to go spend time with the other whers? I can get food by myself if you do.” The dull bronze blinked slowly. Not yet, Special pack friends not here. Stay. That was that. Sion left his wher at the end of the table while he fetched some food, then sat down to eat with an enormous wher sat behind his chair.

Jorunsk was thrilled that whers were welcomed, or at least not stopped from coming in. He’d told Jorunn he was staying outside, but he’d slipped around the door with a wherish grin on his face and a wicked glint in his eyes. He was seeeeecreeeeet… Kind of. Actually he hadn’t been able to get in totally unseen, but Jorunn didn’t know he was in here, and there were just so many people who hadn’t seen him it made his hide prickle. So many people, but who to trick?

The black wher slipped under a table and slunk along on his belly until he felt he was hidden enough, then he started making sad wailing noises like a feline or a human child. That should confuse them! Jorunsk moved on, oozed out from under that table at the next clear space and slunk under another. A pale firelizard popped up by his nose and made the wher start slightly before he recognised Foo Ling Yu.

Not this table! Yu chittered softly to his fellow trickster, showing the wher an image of Jorunn sat with her back to this table. They needed to be able to make a clean get away afterwards. Jorunsk cocked his head slightly in response. They? Yu pranced under the wher’s nose in response. They! Two tricksters could trick twice as much. Jorunsk conceded the point with a twich of his claw in a come on then gesture.

With Foo Ling Yu’s guidance Jorunsk skittered away from his handler and under a different table. As soon as Fu Ling Yu pointed out an unsuspecting bystander Jorunsk would leap out and either roar at them or swat them with his front paws before bounding away.

interesting. What do you think, my sweet Vexen? Are they stronger together, or does their affection make them weak? Vexesk’s voice was insidious, and the image she showed her handler, of One of the newly graduated handlers locked in an embrace with another man, was enough to crack Vexen’s serene exterior with a slight coloring of blush that didn’t match the level of emotion in her shocked mental response.

VEXESK! You can’t show me that! It’s… private.

The wher’s response was flavoured with amusement. How can it be? This is as public as can be. And they aren’t even naked… Vexesk prodded slyly, though she knew well that Vexen could probably deal with nudity without turning a hair. So, I ask you again, what do you think?

I think this is all kind of complicated and kind of silly.Vexen ran her hand over Vie as the fierce little stoat’s black nose appeared over the edge of the table in search of scraps. Yesterday those whers were babies, to be protected, so fragile that a drop of wine or affection to their handlers might drive them between. Today they are adults, with all the rights and duties thereof, and their handlers may presumably do as they please, for the whers have shed their fragility in the past hour. Vexen’s own training as a wherhandler had been adults in her holdless group telling her to make the wher do things, had been pitting her will against Vexesk’s, and Vexesk’s adulthood had not truly been measured.

Not the question I asked, but an interesting point, sweet Vexen.

The greenhandler twitched and screw up her face. Vexesk knew well her thoughts, but persisted in asking anyway. By forcing Vexen to speak her thoughts and put words to her emotions Vexesk won a small victory. You know my mind Vexesk. Love is a weakness, and only fools display their weaknesses for the world to see. Vexen’s face took on a bitter, sinister cast as she replied before slipping back to its customary solemn neutrality.

Vexesk practically purred. Oh sweet Vexen, well done. They are fools indeed, but they are fools together, and happy. What of you Vexen, will you ever be a fool with the rest of the jesters? What sweeps you up and consumes you? Shall we find out? Now the green’s tone was a subtle threat, a prick of claws against skin, the cool of steel at the spine. She was having fun.

((Everyone’s open to anyone. If anyone wants to feed Irrisk or be the hapless victim of Jorunsk and Foo Ling Yu go ahead.

If you tag me,you have to bracket my name for it to work. I’m awkward.))
 Posted: Aug 10 2016, 03:18 PM

N/A Posts

A white firelizard, skin so thin the impressions of green veinwork scattered through his wings, flickered into the Hall. The advance guard, though after surveying the room he flew down to an unoccupied table and attempted to make off with a shiny salad spoon. His wings blurred along his sides but he only managed a dragging pace around the table at first, before navigating to the end and letting the spoon and himself drop into the open air. He immediately disappeared with the prize. As it turned out his appearance had no bearing on that of his Master, who arrived much later, after the speech.

What do you think? Any worthwhiles out there? Tussbuul mused to the long green watchwher beside him. Tusk's head rose briefly towards him, but her eyes could not leave the scene, so she ultimately remained in a mile-long repose, moving only when her handler did. Her near-white wings were slipped into orderly flaps against her smooth back. When she did not move, only the yellow flashes of her tongue wrote life into her. She stared at the nearest of the viridians, Bosk, for a while.

Tuss grinned. His counterpart had started moving, but not for Bosk or any other wherling. She drew herself up to another green wher, Vexesk, and bit her on the hip in greeting- preferably coming up on her from the flank-rear, unnoticed in her welcome. The Master shadowed her with the heavy taps of a cane-tip on the cobbles, and lifted his free hand to Vexen in a cordial wave. His fingers started to fade out of the gesture as he noticed a black animal at the other handler's table- a weasel, he figured -but he tucked his hand back to his side before too much reluctance showed.

"Are you feeling well?" he decided to ask, given her choice of fuzzy pest-like company and the color in her cheeks. He glanced over her wher. "She seems content," he offered as an answer to his own question, cupping both hands over the pommel of his cane as he considered the bench Vexen was sitting at. "And I suppose you are here, and our kind being too responsible to surface when we might cause injury to others..."

@Kisha-Ra (yes? no? does this work? xD)
 Posted: Aug 12 2016, 05:06 AM

N/A Posts

Vexesk’s inner lids slid down briefly as she savoured her victory over her handler, but it was a short lived victory. The green wher’s eyes flashed red and she turned open mewed to strike at whoever had bitten her. Oh, Tusk. Vexesk’s jaw snapped shut before the strike and the red drained from her gaze. Tusk is sneaky, too sneaky maybe. One day I beat you. The pale wher settled back into repose, quite as if she’d never reacted to the long green at all. Vexesk sensed she could learn something from Tusk, with all her skill in sneaking, so the other green was to be treated with respect.

Vexen’s eyes darkened for a moment with reflected rage, but she throttled it swiftly, it wasn’t her emotion, it wasn’t her weakness, and it was already fading from Vexesk, who was only really angry that Tusk had surprised her. Vexen felt a touch of amusement that her mindmate had been humbled while basking in her victory. She found herself facing Tusk’s partner and her mouth pulled up into a smile that only looked bitter because of her scars.

“Master Tussbuul.”Vexen greeted the man whoshe’d strived so hard to impress during the exploration of the palefolk caves, seeing him as a route out of Western Hold. Vie darted up onto table, dashed at the man, then turned abruptly and shot back to scale Vexen and perch on her head. “I am in good health, only a little flustered. I fear Vexesk thinks she has won an argument with me, she might be right.” Vexen nodded briskly. “You have the right of it, if I was ill, I wouldn’t bring disease to a feast.”

Vexen regarded Tussbuul for a long moment, weighing up her desire for an explanation against her desire not to look the fool. Eventually she decided to ask anyway, Tussbuul knew she hadn’t raised Vexesk at the Weyr. “Tell me Master, do you truly think up until now these whers have been fragile flowers?”

 Posted: Aug 16 2016, 05:43 PM

N/A Posts

Not think so, Tusk replied, nothing but honesty. She wound herself toward Tussbuul's legs, making an effective lasso that might have turned dangerous should the Master ever decide to move. As it was, the position allowed her to put most of her front section behind him, and peep her nose and eyes out at Vexesk from the sanctuary of her handler's shadow.

"Winning an argument with a watchwher sounds the less plausible outcome," he offered. "I hope the subject was not too disturbing."

Vexen not be fluster face if undisturbing.

I know. It is courtesy, dear.

I am courteous. Not talk much. No one know what think. Except Tuss. Billy.

He had to silence the growing grin on his face, even if the faint glassy tinge to his eyes gave away his listening to more than Vexen's voice. Do you like the mysterious allure you end up with?

Not care what other thinks.

That's my wher. He swallowed his throat clear. "I have never heard a wher described as such," he said. He made to seat himself on the bench beside Vexen, and the emerald green wrapping choking his legs evaporated, sliding out along Vexesk's side, then sitting down and tucking a frilly tail over her paws. The bifurcated tailtip twitched and danced atop her front toes. Tussbuul laid his cane out on the free stretch of stone to his right, then turned to Vexen, salt-and-pepper eyebrows hefted in conspiratorial interest. "Nor would I believe it if it were told to me, save perhaps about one of the little grays or whites. Care to explain in more detail?"

 Posted: Aug 20 2016, 05:37 PM


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"Waiting on someone to join you?" Her voice met him before she slipped into his line of sight, sweeping in from behind him with her skirts sashaying around her ankles. "It's nice, all the new handlers we have in the Weyr now." Without waiting for an answer or an invitation she set her cup and plate down next to the bronzehandler and took a seat. Looking at Sionask she added, "Vessk is outside, if you wanted to keep her company."

Smoothing her skirt she looked around the hall before settling her gaze back on the other handler, "How have you been since we sent our grandkittens found their new homes? I feel like I never get a moment to myself." In a sense she was not exaggerating; between keeping a certain dragonrider company, patrols, and drills she kept herself fairly busy. "Are you still up for taking us out hunting with you sometime?" A smile was followed by a sip from her cup before she dug into her meal.

When Vessa hatch babies?

The question caught her so off guard she nearly choked. Coughing and sputtering she cleared her throat, cheeks bright red as she offered an awkward smile as if everything was normal.


 Posted: Aug 23 2016, 01:55 PM

N/A Posts

Sion looked up from his plate to see Vessa and smiled. The trials they’d shared involving their wild hybrid felines surely made them friends, or it did in Sion’s eyes. Behind him Sionask sat up on his haunches and graciously lowered his muzzle to touch Vessa’s shoulder as she sat. Yes, pack friend. “We’re not waiting on anyone in particular. Well, Sio might be, he mentioned none of his friends were here yet.” Sion rested his fork on the edge of the plate and reached back to pat the heavy hide and solid muscle of the bronze’s shoulder.

The bronze wher rose lazily and streched his back legs. Yes, go and see Vessk. He told both handlers. Not be getting in trouble while Sionask gone. The wher’s tongue lolled out between his lower fangs in his version of a grin as he turned and walked through the gathered humans.

“It’s good to see more whers, yes, though too many more and we’ll be searching for new quarters.” Sion exaggerated a little, the wher quarters were looking pretty full, but they weren’t overflowing just yet. Maybe when the next lot of wherlings graduated. “I do wonder if more of those viridian fellows are likely to hatch. Sio could use more of the big lads around, to keep him on his toes.” They big, sure, but moody. Not challenge Sionask, but make strong pack members. The bronzehandler smiled wryly at his wher’s comment, and chuckled aloud when the bronze eagerly answered Vessa question about hunting before he drew breath. Tell her yes. “Sionask says to tell you yes.” He laughed. “He does love his hunting trips, no doubt he’s already planning what to hunt with Vessk at his side.”

“As for my life.” Sion speared a piece of wherry and looked at it. “It goes on more or less the same. I attend drills, work patrols and ground crews, tend my plants, assist the wherhealer and learn more of how herbalism applies to our tough hided friends. I’ve also been working on training Magnus more. Our grandkittens certainly show the hybrid felines can be more social than him. I won’t say it’s not an uphill struggle some days though.” Sion dearly longed to be able to let his feline roam freely through the halls and forgotten ways of the Weyr for his hunting and exercise, but he knew it would probably never be. Looking he was surprised to find Vessa blushing, well that couldn’t just be embarrassment at coughing. “What’s Vessk saying to you?” He guessed at the source of her discomfort. “It looks like it’s dreadfully naughty.” Sion went on to raise an eyebrow in a moderately silly gesture.

Sionask welcomed the cooler air outdoors. He couldn’t really remember why he’d been so stubborn about remaining in the feast hall now. He wouldn’t deny he was hoping to see some of his favourite members of the wher pack, but he could easily catch them out here. Inside was noisy, crowded with people and scents. Out here it was no trouble to find Vessk and walk up to touch his muzzle to the smaller wher’s head. Sionask get Sionalo to tell yours we want hunting trip. Vessk still want, yes? Much fun, better meat than pen beasts, and far better than burned things mans eat.


Vexen wondered if Tusk took as much pleasure in tormenting Tussbuul as Vexesk seemed to take in needling her, she’d always assumed it was just Vexesk, but his words spoke to her of futile arguments and set her to wondering. “I suppose that depends on your point of view. They don’t seem to find it too disturbing,” a flick of Vexen’s eyes toward the happy couple was all the indication of who she referred to, “but I don’t need Vexesk asking my opinion of it.”

Sweet Vexen, you don’t know what you need, or what you want. Vexesk whispered slyly while Tusk oozed out alongside her.

Vexen shook her head as if she could shake loose her wher voice. “I’m a little perplexed by the very different rules for the handlers of young and adult whers. Especilly since these whers were, by the rules, youngesters until a short while ago. You know I didn’t raise Vexesk in the Weyr, I didn’t have much training, pretty much had to figure it out for ourselves. I suppose what I am asking really, is this: do weyrbred whers often suffer terribly if their handler drinks wine or engages in, ah, sensual pleasures before the young wher attains this seemingly arbitrary age defined as adulthood? If so would their handlers not be aware?” Vexen blushed again as he reached the ‘sensualplesures’ portion of her carefully worded question, and Vexesk’s eyes whirled with amusement at her discomfort.

 Posted: Aug 28 2016, 04:45 PM

N/A Posts

"Disturbing in another way perhaps," Tussbuul murmured, dry as a bone, as he followed Vexen's indication to Bozidar and Da'on. He found a sudden requirement for wine, which one of the passing Weyrfolk obliged before he could ask. "We do not teach watchwhers propriety," he reminded his fellow greenhandler, smiling. "Personally I find their raw perspective refreshing, but then I am embroiled in the political at all times."

He swirled his wine- a real glass cup, the Weyr drudges knowing precisely what applied to a Master. The drink itself ran only passable over his tongue, but all he had needed was the refreshment. "Ah. I catch your meaning now," spoken as though it were a bunny escaped from its hutch, and he the crafty wherry to poach it. "I doubt very much any wherlet would care what its handler did short of actively getting hurt or dying. In the Minerhall, whers are typically bequeathed on married men at the peak of their interest in- starting families, capitalizing on their success. I have never heard of one putting his life on hold for a wher's sake."

Tussbuul coached his voice: Vexen could hear it fine, but it was not at the volume or dissonance to carry much beyond their table. "But Weyrs are bastions of fortified tradition, are they not? For all the superficial allowances..." He tipped his glass at the two men, then rolled it back to his lips to sip away the slosh of wine produced. "...there are requirements for this particular stronghold to operate, just as holds and halls and mines have theirs. We know for certain that very young dragonets are susceptible, so I imagine our riders thought it prudent to extend such restrictions to we handlers as well. Makes us more like kin. Truly, it's an honor."

He grinned at Vexen. "Don't you feel honored?"


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