Logs:All that Glitters...
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| RL Date: 2 November, 2015 |
| Who: Alida, Ilicaeth |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Vignette |
| What: The bluepair respond to the loss of Reisoth...and H'vier. |
| Where: HRW: Rest & Relaxation Weyr |
| When: Day 25, Month 2, Turn 39 (Interval 10) |
| Weather: Cloudy, cold. |
| Mentions: H'vier/Mentions |
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| Reisoth's first wave of fear hadn't awakened a deeply sleeping Ilicaeth, both the blue and his rider completely tuckered-out from a long day of Wing duties plus tending to Alida's side business at various holds. It certainly didn't help that the woman was slumbering the sleep of the tipsy...her last stop before home having been one of sampling various wares she'd soon transport. It was the bronze's uncharacteristic, paniced *reaching* - that, and his calls of alarm - that had Ilicaeth lurching bolt- upright from his couch, and quickly storming outside to the edge of his ledge to raise first his own bellow of warning, then a directed, mental stab of tight inquiry/response to Reisoth. As the bronze's panic jarred the blue (and enough others), Ilicaeth took wing, his large wings pumping as hard as the blood in in veins - deeply-shadowed eyes spinning a rapid yellow - hurling himself as fast as he could towards then bronze's ledge, seeking to assist however he could in the most immediate way possible. Inside her part of their weyr, Alida found herself startling awake to the sounds of draconic panic, the feeling of Ilicaeth's knife-edged and arrow-sharp concern. It left the bright, metallic taste of fear and adrenaline on her alcohol-dried tongue, and with an uneven lurch, she was on her feet, running as well as her body would let her towards her abandoned robe. The motions were automatic, as mechanical as breathing...as unlocking her large press and soon jerking out the sheathed sword of her father's within. Even as the guard's blade rang softly as it cleared the scabbard, Reisoth was uttering his own cry of loss...though the keen sounded equally as surprised as lamenting to the woman's dragon-sensitized perceptions. « No! » Ilicaeth thundered in surprise and outrage in Alida's head, his outer voice letting loose a bellow of protest first, before rising to that nerve-wracking ululation that signified the death of a dragon. He was instantly joined by others who instinctively mourned one of their own...and the assault on the blonde's senses was painful enough to cause her to skid to a halt as she ran towards her empty ledge, Alida clapping one free hand to an ear, pressing the fist that held her sword to the other. "How?!" Alida found her outer and inner voices demanding in stunned, angered fashion of her lifemate, who had made it three-quarters of the way to Reisoth's ledge before seeing the bronze fall...and Between for the last time. « Not really sure... » the blue dragon rumbled darkly, sadly, his eyes and hide holding ample tones of grey as he back-winged to a landing upon Reisoth's ledge, the blue looking all around as much as he could, using all of his senses to gather as much information as possible. The telltale scent of alcohol was strong all about that ledge. He soon had to clear off for other, more official investigators, but Ilicaeth merely moved one ledge away, joining a green whom he'd politely asked for use of the convenient perch. He was a fellow 'guard,' like his rider, and the blue remained in that sentry position so he could unhappily watch every single coming and going from the former-bronze's abode...and he remained there for over an hour, watching solemnly as H'vier's body was finally taken Between for its final rest. The *need* to know, to understand was deep in him...but what could he (or any of the Weyr) do? The bronzepair was gone...and soon so was he, returning to his own ledge, to the support of his own rider. It was only because of the alcohol left in her own system that Alida finally managed to slumber again an hour later, though this time she slept in her lifemate's arms as they settled in his couch. And when Ilicaeth had again reminded Alida, upon their twinned waking, that he'd scented booze from H'vier's weyr, he cast out his mind among those of his 'unit' - his Weyr's fellow dragons - to seek gossip, information...a *reason*. Ilicaeth's mental touch suddenly cuffed Alida across the face like her former instructors at Pars sometimes had, hard enough to get her full attention, leaving a bruise behind. *Ilicaeth's* special bruise, this time, and it left Alida gasping.. « He *choked* ta death. » Glower. « The *booze*. » The same alcohol that his rider so deeply enjoyed in its many forms, the substance that made some of her pains more bearable on the darker days...the stuff she was increasingly using to delight, dull, distract herself from inconvenient or unpleasant things. H'vier had been not only depressed...but distracted, dulled by drink. And now, he was *dead* by it. And Ilicaeth was nearly vibrating with his concern with, anger at his lifemate. He didn't spare Alida any of his assault, the burly blue glaring down at the woman between his forearms - his eyes a foreboding orange - using his advantage of surprise to pin her down, though he didn't move a muscle. « If you EVER let it get that far... » His raspy baritone was low and tight, the fumingly-controlled aspect of it just barely checking his fear and fury: a massive wall of ocher sand spreading from horizon the horizon, promising to flay hide from bone if it touched Alida. He'd end her himself. Not because his rider would be an alcoholic, or that sad. But because she would no longer be the person he chose from all other on those Sands Turns ago: with all her anger and action, her unruliness and indomitable will. Her life without that inner FIRE was equally as intolerable to the blue as a lack of food and water. For a moment, the blonde reeled under her lifemate's force of personality, then instantly closed off as much of her mind as she could from that bare and bloody contact, Alida attempting to shield herself even as she mentally shoved her blue away. It worked...a little. Just enough to keep the woman's 'autonomy' intact, while leaving her with the indelible 'stamp' of her dragon's decree upon her mind until the day she died. Failure - in this instance - was not an option. |
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