Logs:Beauty In The Eye
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| RL Date: 1 June, 2012 |
| Who: M'sar |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Vignette |
| What: Not all that's gold glitters. |
| Where: Hatching Galleries, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 8, Month 12, Turn 28 (Interval 10) |
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| The Sands. Heat pervaded his feet, propped up on the railing in front of him; familiar, the heat, on his boots, his thin legs, and his mind: home. Gusts of frozen wind from outside brought in across the shoulders of other watchers just a nipping, chill reminder that there were others, staring with more investment at the goings-on below. He'd come out to watch the Hatching. He didn't know why he'd come out to watch the Hatching. To know, he guessed. Because knowing was everything. It'd just be nice if he could do it without the half-witted buzz crammed in around him. Heat curled his toes inside crossed boots; heat from the Sands, pouring across the nervous foreheads of the candidates as the less white egg hatched what he supposed was a gold: the garish results of whatever ill mood Ysavaeth had been in when squatting her out. A new queen, unaware of the rickety scales she'd just tipped with her clubbed body. She bellowed. A silken strand wound around his head. « Do you see. » I do. Coiling, tightening. « Do you see how beautiful she is? » I see a body others will scoff at. Wide, square: huge, if she's allowed to grow into it. So she'll be slow. She's already testing her power but she has no direction. She may be Ysavaeth's spawn but she challenges her, too, and if she's smart then she's a threat but if she's not smart then she's not worthy. She'll become a pawn masquerading as a queen. A club, a fighter, a weapon to be aimed. A rush of heat, startled cries, and that brawny gold frame. « So you do. » A soft barricade against the full of Kushvetath's intoxicating honey fell his eyelids to half-mast and he watched through this indolent stare as the brawling queen sunk her claw then the power of her mind into that tall, stout person of dark skin and desperation to help. His lip, at the corner, twitched discontentedly, leading inside where his tongue pushed sourly into the back of his teeth. Without any effort of fire at all, Kushvetath leant up against that barrier, a flutter of firecracker amusement jumping the wall. « Wondering if you shouldn't have lied? » It wasn't a question, so he didn't answer. A shot of purpose dislodged his comfortably propped feet, digging his shoulders into the back of the seat as if he might rise. No more than that. And in that crushing, gossiping, chittering crowd of overdone outfits, it was nothing; M'sar was as still as he started, with his temple resting peaceably on his right knuckles as he stared at the Sands, and absorbed the heat. « I think it's time we introduce ourselves. » |
Comments
Azaylia (Dragonshy) left a comment on Sun, 03 Jun 2012 21:38:12 GMT.
Should I be feeling a mix of flattery and... fear? Wait, Kushvetath is involved. Of /course/ I should be afraid!
And see, M'sar? Liars never prosper~.
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