Logs:Planning Distraction
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| RL Date: 19 December, 2015 |
| Who: Asaroth, Taeliyth |
| Involves: Fort Weyr, High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Dahlia plans a distraction for Zaisavyth's anticipated clutching. T'gar will, apparently, oblige. |
| Where: Mindspace |
| When: Day 4, Month 8, Turn 39 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: Mirinda/Mentions |
| OOC Notes: Biggest draconic pantie bunch ever. |
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| The smell of rotting undergrowth isn't pleasant, but it's all that's seeping from the snarl of trees that make up Taeliyth's inner Wood. Mysteries are shrouded in darkness and that darkness has a particularly predatory feel as she reaches for the young bronze across the distance that separates Fort from High Reaches Weyr. She's careful not to let the thorns and brambles that block all but the most surface of explorations to her Wood be too sharp. « Asaroth, » her voice is sweet for all the other signs that this gold may not be all sugar and spice and everything nice. (To Asaroth from Taeliyth) A touch of that unfamiliar dark wood and its smells stirs the beast within his rotting cave. The intrusion of a touch unknown has a low growl rolling up from deep, deep, and darker within. Yet like a tunnelsnake, the ugly bronze beast tastes the touch, trying to absorp enough information to discover her whereabouts. What he discovers must prove interesting: « Who are you? » hisses low, the scent of all things putrid to come along with the predator's words. (To Taeliyth from Asaroth) Given the distance Taeliyth's derisive and dismissive snort for the bronze's growl cannot be heard, but the echo of it makes the brambles quiver in not-quite laughter, so dark is the brief amusement. « I am Taeliyth. » Simple. « My rider wishes- » this is not her own mission, which might explain some measure of her prickly attitude (or maybe she's just Like That), « -to know if you and yours will go with us somewhere distracting when Zaisavyth - » the feeling in the name is such a tangle of unpleasant feeling that the knots might never come undone, « -takes to my sands. » Her sands. They're hers. No matter what Zaisavyth says. (To Asaroth from Taeliyth) « Tae--liyth. » Asaroth's stare could probably be tasted, even from a long distance. It almost feels as if the name is being recorded into his draconic memory. The putrid smell takes on a tangy mix in his confusion when she speaks of her rider. There's a taste of gold on the tongue - metallic. Taeliyth is a gold. « Your rider is...? » he draws out in a near growl, the beast in the cave keeping his hackles raised at the foreign queen. (To Taeliyth from Asaroth) There's a brief pause in which Taeliyth, with great personal restraint, does not comment on the bronze's revelations. Of course she's a gold. Asaroth is a bronze. His rider is a boy. All these things just seem so painfully obvious to her. « Dee, » she allows a little more patience for this question since she wasn't ever introduced. « She says to say she's sorry for not saying, but I don't see why. Is he willing? » The tone suggest that Taeliyth, at least, might think of better ways to spend her time during the clutching. Possibly heckling Zaisavyth or willing the dragons of Fort to shit on the sands. Crude, but effective. (To Asaroth from Taeliyth) « I remember. » Dee. Asaroth's hissing grate is laced with a surliness for the gold's demeanor, and where there probably should be a pulling away of the bronze's mind to confer with his rider, there isn't one. It's only a breath before, « He will be there. » Presumably he will, too. The bronze doesn't seem ask about the where and any details like that. (To Taeliyth from Asaroth) They'd probably only forget by the time the time comes. Who can say when that will be? Taeliyth's « Fine, » is annoyed since their acceptance will probably curtail any of her own (more nefarious) plans. « I will be in touch. » Then her touch recedes, dark forest, acrid rotting smells, predators and all. (To Asaroth from Taeliyth) Asaroth's environment of stench and decay lingers around, perhaps even after the Fortian queen's withdraws. His own « Fine. » isn't conveyed in mere words; it's a sharp scent that can't be described by anything known, there and gone along with his own presence. (To Taeliyth from Asaroth) |
Comments
T'gar (00:30, 20 December 2015 (PST)) said...
Naturally, Asaroth ONLY tells Rat that Dee wants him to be somewhere after the conversation. The fact that she's a weyrwoman from Fort manages to get lost in translation.
Because Asaroth can even be an asshole to his rider. Sometimes. XD
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