Logs:Tiasheth Rises
| |
|---|
| |
| RL Date: 9 September, 2008 |
| Who: Paige, Phara, P'draig |
| Type: Log |
| What: Tiasheth finally goes up on the verge of evening, three days later. Jekzith and Bennath are among the chasers; Paige's denial can't be maintained any longer. Jekzith catches. |
| When: Day 13, Month 9, Turn 17 (Interval 10) |
  |
| It's a late, autumn afternoon; the dinner hour's almost upon Fort, which would surely explain why Paige is curled up in a seat before one of the hearths, tucked into a fuzzy sweater and chewing happily on a sweetstick. It doesn't, however, explain why she shivers every now and then, despite her too-shiny forehead and huddles closer to the warmth. For the last few days, P'draig's been haunting Fort like he still lives here, turning up as soon as he's off-duty at Ista, touching base with friends, just generally around while Jekzith keeps Tiasheth company more often than not. This evening is no different and the former Weyrlingmaster emerges from the kitchen with a cup of steaming tea, makes his way over to the shivering greenrider. "Here you go, Paige," he tells her solicitously. Tiasheth> Tiasheth, settled not far from the entrance to the caverns, is calm. Perhaps too calm, really. Her hide has finally begun to take on the beginnings of that tell-tale, luminous quality, but the young green is either intent on ignoring it, or still unaware of her current state. Her greetings to those who have been passing by over the last couple of hours remain polite, but edging on strained. Within and without, she's far too still. By the rumbling in her belly, Phara knows it's time for dinner. A towel still around her shoulders and clearly fresh from the bath, she comes in grinning and humming a happy, tuneless tune. Eyes take a quick sweep of the cavern, taking note of the faces she still doesn't know, P'draig and Paige amoung them. Planning to be solicitous, she ambles towards them. "Evening!" Her eyes flick towards the fireplace and the shivering Paige. Really, it's not that cold. "Are you sick?" she asks curiously, taking the greenrider in. Tiasheth> Jekzith has been sitting calmly enough near Tiasheth this last little while, a solid presence nearby, thoughts winding her way soothingly from time to time while he presents typically energetic greetings to familiar dragons and even a rider or two. He does not however, encroach on Tiasheth's space though he's keeping a pretty close eye on the young green. Tiasheth> Bennath lands lightly from the hot springs cavern, his rider departing by foot, leaving him to his own devices. He folds his wings and trundles into a likely looking spot, considering it with a tilted head before hunkering down with a hefty sigh. Tiasheth is noticed with the sort of idle curiosity he expresses towards everything. Paige removes her sweetstick in favor of taking up the cup of tea that P'draig brings over, giving him a grateful smile. "Thanks, " she says just above a whisper, taking a long drink with a small sigh afterwards. "S'good." A glance is tilted toward Phara, smile renewing briefly. "Evenin', " she returns, tone more normal as she curls a hand fast about Paddy's. "I - I dunno. I dun feel awful ill, but - s'too cold." She's sweating, too. While a fever is a definite possibility, she doesn't look particularly flushed. "Thank ya fer askin' though, uh - " And she breaks off, frowning. She can't put a name to the face. P'draig gives Paige's shoulder a gentle squeeze and pulls up a nearby chair, sitting in it in a straddle. Phara's approach lifts his head and he holds onto Paige's hand as she reaches for it. "Good evening," he answers the bluerider with a friendly smile. "Nice night, yes," the brownrider agrees but his fingers tighten just a fraction on Paige's. He looks her way seems to debate something then keeps his peace on that. "P'draig, brown Jekzith's, formerly Werylingmaster here, transferred to Ista about a month back," he introduces himself though his hand is occupied with holding Paige's so he doesn't offer it to shake. Phara smiles and dips her head, "Well, perhaps you're just not used to the winter coming on?" She muses, trying to be helpful. "Well, anyways. Oh!" She realizes her lapse when Paige hesitates, and offers to both of them, "Phara, blue Bennath's. I'm one of the new transfers. P'draig, huh? Oh, D'kai's told me of you. S'fox, too, he spoke highly of you. I'm honored to finally meet you, and sad to hear Fort lost such a good weyrlingmaster, if the stories are true." An eyebrow lifts at the hand-holding but she doesn't pry, or seem offended by the not shaking. "And you are...?" She inquires of Paige. Tiasheth> Tiasheth lifts her head just slightly, enough to glance over at Bennath as he settles. Eyes whirling a deep blue turn upward, flecks of violet beginning to appear as the minutes pass. Still, she remains unmoving - at least until she slowly gets to her feet, tail swishing. Did her luminescence just brighten a bit? Tiasheth> Keen as his observation is, Jekzith doesn't miss those signs from Tiasheth and he gets to his feet as well, just the faintest trace of lavender tinging the edges of serene aquamarine. He lets out an encouraging warble then, tracking the swish-swish of the sylvan green's tail. To Tiasheth, Jekzith floats a single clear bubble Tiasheth's way, its contents amorphous, rose-gold and sparkling, a memory shared. « You are and will be lovely, » he tells her sincerely then retreats just a little, mentally, giving her space. Tiasheth> Bennath tips his head further, watching the green curiously, waiting for something, anything. The lines of his body twitch into readiness, though he gives the impression of nonchalance. "Lived near High Reaches most of m'life, " Paige replies to Phara. "Phara, " she repeats, frown easing. "Yer a friend o'Trev's, yeah? I'm Paige, green Tiasheth's." Of course, the green outside would have to finally move once she finishes her introduction, causing her fingers to tighten more about P'draig's, eyes suddenly widening. A strangled sort of noise escapes her, something between a squeak and a whimper. Suddenly, it's too warm; suddenly, her teacup crashes to the floor, shattering as her grip on it evaporates. "Oh, well him I know too through J--" P'draig cuts off, inhaling sharply and moves to try to intercept that mug, but too slowly to preserve it from that shattering fall. That hand of his is going to wind up bearing fingermarks. "Paige, stay steady," he murmurs quietly and gets to his feet, nudging the mess of shards a little with his foot and looking around to catch the eye of one of the cavernsworkers. "Sorry there's been a little accident here," he says calmly, then tips his head towards the Bowl. "Time to go, Paige," he tells her very softly, voice still steady. He looks up at Phara apologetically. "Her green's rising." To Jekzith, Tiasheth's stillness is finally broken with that single bubble, throwing her mind into a dusky glade filled with warm, sultry breezes that blow floral scents in his direction. « The sky is lovely, » she returns, a little breathily. « Those clouds. I'd like to catch them. » Phara tips her head curiously, listening to a silent voice. Her eyes return to Paige, attention catching on a name. "T'rev? Yeah, yeah, he's my best friend." she agrees. "Nice to meet you, Paige. I think he's mentioned you. Maybe." Her eyebrows knit. "Well, I've heard it somewhere at least." And then Paige is making noise and the teacup(not the tea/crap/, shut up fingers) is crashing and she watches with a bemused look on her face. To P'draig, she grimaces. "So Bennath noticed." She shifts nervously, backing away from the pair to give them ample room. To Tiasheth, Jekzith eases that bubble further along with a gentle mental breath. « It is and you'll be lovely in it, » the brown answers sincerely. « Let's go catch them, then, Tiasheth. It'll be fun. » Tiasheth> Tiasheth's ascension is sudden and rapid. The glow of her hide increases at the same moment that she suddenly launches upward, warbling brightly. Altitude is her goal; with her tiny size and the thermals on her side, she quickly gains it, leveling off high above only to turn on a wingtip and soar off toward the south. Paige's expression is no longer startled, but alarmed. Heedless of the spilt tea, of P'draig's words, of Phara's backing away, she leaps fluidly from her seat to run pell-mell for the bowl. "Come back!" she wails futilely, skidding to a halt just out of the entrance to watch the green gain more height, eyes very grey and suddenly, confused. Tiasheth> Right up after her goes Jekzith, eyes shading fully to pale lilac as his feet leave the ground and long maple wings catch equally familiar air, use that one thermal there to lift off and angle upward for clear and free space. The motley brown is much longer than the woodland-hued green but agile in the sky, though his turn isn't quite as tight as hers, he cleaves closely to her trail for now, thoughts already opening wide, ringing with the joy of fast flight. Tiasheth> This is what Bennath was waiting for and with a stealth that even his size does't indicate, he is following Tiasheth into the air, his bright blue color an eager match for her glowing hide. He spreads his wings wide, aiming to keep with her on those same thermals. He anticipates her turn and pivots readily when she gives away where she's going, giving himself into the height and the speed. Tiasheth> Jekzith launches into the air, wings beating steadily as he rises above the bowl. Tiasheth> Jekzith has left. Tiasheth> You launch into the air, wings beating steadily as you rise above the bowl. P'draig strolls out into the bowl. P'draig has left. You step out into the bowl. You stroll into the guest weyr. Guest Weyr, Fort Weyr Slightly elevated from the bowl would be the ledge leading toward the guest weyr, a pair of steps being all that's necessary to venture onto the outcropping. The main portion of the weyr is built for a single dragon, with a rush-lined stone couch and some old blankets provided for padding. The rider's quarters are located to one side, curtained off from the main weyr for some semblence of privacy. Within the rider's quarters is a bed and a wardrobe, with a niche containing a desk and a chair. The theme is a fairly bright one, with a blue and white quilt covering the bed and augmented with pale-hued furs. The tapestries on the walls are also lightly coloured, contrasting with the dark rugs on the floor. Obvious exits: Bowl P'draig walks in from the bowl. P'draig has arrived. Tiasheth> Bennath wings up from the bowl floor. Tiasheth> Bennath has arrived. Phara steps in from the bowl. Phara has arrived. Like dragon, like rider, P'draig's stride moves him across the cavern after Paige. When she draws to a stop, looking up, his hand comes to rest briefly, lightly against her back. "This way," the brownrider says quietly, looks up as well for a moment, tracking Jekzith's trail after Tiasheth beyond the Bowl, then gray-blue eyes drop back down to the greenrider, his focus on her, still with every appearance of calm. Phara watches Paige and gives a long sigh like her dragon first gave. "My sentiments exactly." She says forlornly as Bennath shoots off into the sky, following the pair and looking none too pleased about this development. Tiasheth> Tiasheth's eyes sparkle a brilliant violet as she gives herself over to the utter jubilation of unfettered flight. Reveling in the rush of wind, she folds her wings suddenly to make a cavorting dive downward with a bugle, regaining her previous height with little issue. Her path takes her out over the lake, another daring spiral sending her leaping to a different thermal. This, this is freedom. Paige goes still beneath the brownrider's hand, easily able to be guided. "I - " she begins, then coughs, mouth suddenly dry. "So high." A hand clasps at the necklace at her throat, gaze slackening rapidly. The line between dragon and rider began blurring several days ago; right here, right now, it's on the verge of flickering out. Tiasheth> Jekzith can't but agree, freedom indeed. His own mind reflects unleashed glee for this, for them in the open air flying the way they were meant to. Her bugle is answered with a bright warble and he twists in the air to match some of her moves, though here and there he cuts a corner or goes broad with a motion due to his larger size. Still, he's a lean, aerodynamic flyer and he's been waiting to have this, this moment with /her/ since it first came up between them, catch or no. It's all about the flying, spiraling and twirling through the air at breakneck speed, nothing but the wind and the stars slowly coming out up above. Tiasheth> Bennath returns Tiasheth's enthusiasm with a bold tremble of sound, the gentle hum that serves as background noise in his mind projecting easily. Her first dip throws him and he follows to stay close to her, keeping her always in sight. The second time, he trumpets again, maintaining his altitude and barrel-rolling through the air to catch up to her when she regains height. Still, however, he keeps her completely in sight, ready to pour on more if she proves unpredictable. That guiding hand is gently, still light on Paige's back as he steers her across the Bowl and into that well-kept weyr. The brownrider leans in, murmurs softly in her ear two simple words: "Let go," and then he steps back a pace or two, looking around to pull up a chair to straddle again and wait out what comes next. Phara continues to follow until they reach the guest weyr and there, she simply stands, looking mostly lost and completely uncomfortable. For once, dragon and rider are not completely in sync as she fights to keep herself here and now and still keep one 'eye' on Bennath. P'draig looks between Paige and Phara, arms folding across the back of that chair he's picked out. He sticks relatively close to Paige without crowding her space and it's Phara he addresses next. "His first chase?" The brownrider seems to still be in possession of most of his faculties though there's something about his eyes that speaks of focus being partially elsewhere and his fingers flex now and then along the chair's back. Tiasheth> Tiasheth aims ever higher, wings still beating steadily. Maybe she just likes height. Or, maybe she really is trying to catch that cloud, just off in the distance. She turns again, shooting farther east and executing a complex twirl with another warble. Bet they can't do that! To Tiasheth, Jekzith draws that cloud in his usual vivid hues, making it more than what it is, but still within reach. They could go there, they could, punch on through it to get above into higher, clearer air where there's nothing to stop them from twirling just like that and spinning about, totally free. Tiasheth> Bennath angles upwards to trail Tiasheth, more than happy to chase clouds with her. He twists towards the east, and warbles in reply to her challenge, mimicing her twirl with at least as much agility, if not as much grace. Tiasheth> And its up she goes, up she goes. Jekzith warbles again himself, excitement coloring his voice as he takes in that twirl. Oh he can't, can't he? Brown he may be, but tricks in the air he loves very well and he's got every incentive in the world to keep up with her. So thee he goes, there he goes, twirling after, with wings drawn in a little like a translucent cloak as he spins in her wake. Let go. Paige trembles as those two words reach her, sinking back toward the nearest wall silently. A little breath escapes her, hands finally relaxing to her sides. Is she giving in? It's hard to tell, really; her eyes still scrunch shut every now and then in momentary cringes. But even these lessen as the flight progresses. Phara nods her head distractedly in response to P'draig's question. "Yes." A frown of concentration tugs the edges of her mouth, eyes flicking towards green and brown riders. P'draig pushes out one of the other chairs from the table in the weyr and nods towards it. "Sit if you like," he says mildly and a moment later his eyes close, hand curling around the top rung of the chair's back tightly. A smile slowly curls up the corners of his mouth and when his eyes open again his head is tilted up towards the unseen sky beyond the weyr, a look of rapt joy on his face. Tiasheth> Tiasheth's wings spill into another dive, sending her swooping lower through the bowl, whizzing past one of the jutting ledges. Where did that cloud go? There's another turn to head back toward it, a swift move that startles a suitor from Igen into veering wildly off before he seeks to regain his course, determined. A smile curves at Paige's mouth, too. It's delighted, to be sure, but there's a thoughtful tinge to it, something that edges on secretive. Challenging? No, that isn't quite right, either. A tiny whimper escapes her, head shaking slightly in a negative. No. Phara studies P'draig for a moment and then nods, walking stiffly forward and sinking into the chair. She folds her hands in her lap, back straight, staring blankly at nothing, or everything, it's hard to tell. Tiasheth> Zooming clear across the Bowl, Jekzith pulls around in a sharp banking maneuver to head back towards that cloud, not from the same direction quite as Tiasheth, at an angle and he has a bright warble for the green: race? Still in the air around him, that sunny, buouyant enjoyment of just /flying/ and flying well. To Jekzith, Tiasheth swirls night breezes and dew-covered leaves toward that cloud, exhilarating. And what then, when they reach clearer air? What then, when they twirl and spin freely? There are no more clouds to chase there. No more to hide behind. To Tiasheth, Jekzith is all bright sparklers and a shift of rainbow, so happy is he in the flight. But she reaches for him and he has a ready answer, that bubble he's been floating around the edges of her mind allowed to pop to unleash rose-gold exhilaration that pales into white hot shared heat. She knows what there might be to find with him beyond the clouds out there, joy and pleasure without measure. Threading beneath that sending, the distinct ache of longing: he wants her. And wound around that, still what she's known before: his caring. Tiasheth> Bennath can do this too! Wings tight and full of air, he glides after the glowing Tiasheth, whirling through after the fast green, appreciation of her speed foremost in his mind. He overshoots her but recovers, flipping backwards over himself and rolling to right himself, angling for her always. That little sound from Paige brings P'draig back down into the weyr briefly, eyes gone all hazy from the intensity of the flight. The look on his face though is predominantly sympathetic, a stark contrast to some others in the weyr, some removed, some barely containing barefaced lust. "It's okay," he murmurs, voice barely breaking free before his head bows and hands tighten on the chair's rung, his forehead touching down there as he breathes in and out slowly. Tiasheth> Tiasheth warbles back at Jekzith as she zooms for the cloud, a tendril of appreciation escaping her mind for Bennath's speed, too. Closer, closer, almost there. She slows just as she reaches it; her wings don't exactly falter, and yet, she begins to drop. Is this deliberate? Her neck curves around briefly to watch those around her, purpled eyes alit. There, the flutter of a wing, just off. Maybe she really did just reach a little too high. Paige's breathing shifts, a hand reaching up to clutch at her necklace again. She shifts along the wall, a movement meant to carry her farther into a corner - a curving sort of slide that could seem rather 'come hither' to all those unseeing eyes. But she trembles, too, head still shaking rapidly. "Too risky, " she whispers fiercely, shoulders tense. Don't. But it's too late; the green's fall, deliberate or not, becomes a very real one. A rapid one. Tiasheth> Going, going, that cloud's just about reached and Jekzith's path seems like it would intersect Tiasheth's all too easily but for that fall. Maple-hued wings snap closed and the motley brown's body streamlines into one long lean, fluid line arrowing down after her, aiming to reach her before the others, to break that fall with wide wings and every support he knows how to give. To Jekzith, Tiasheth glimmers in response to that bubble, his heat, mind aglow with all the innocence her maidenhood affords her. She has an idea of what awaits her now, but nothing wholly concrete. As her rider trembles, something in her does, too, both at that ache and his caring. But her other suitors can just as easily make a bid for her. Can he follow in time? Keep another's wings from fouling with hers? Phara is certainly one of the more removed ones, her face and body a statue, too tense, too raw. She gives a twitch, or maybe almost a jerk, reeling forward. Her hands shoot out, grabbing the edges of the seat she sits in. Rose-gold light grows, glows expands, warmth offered, to share as they did before, only this time in full. Yes! He can! Or at least he is determined to do so, putting his all into that breakneck dive. Within determination too is surety: he will not let her fall, if in the end he is fast enough and she chooses to make him hers. (Jekzith to Tiasheth) To Bennath, Tiasheth's mind is a dusky, warm glade, alit from within with a thousand fireflies. Appreciation escapes her again, swirling toward him in a floral-scented breeze; he is fast, he is speedy, he's to be admired in the air. Will it be enough for the day to be his - him, a champion? Her champion? Tiasheth> Bennath can do the height, longing to skim the clouds and even higher, brush the stars he admires nightly. When she falls, he folds his wings, observing Jekzith even as he curves to the right, cutting a tight spiral to rescue the falling Tiasheth, a bugle escaping his throat, calling after her, calling to her, ready to spread his wings and save himself from the plunge. Deep breath in, and air slowly pushed out, P'draig's focus is all inward right now, chin resting against his chest, hands gripping onto the chair. Silent. Waiting. Tiasheth> Down falls Tiasheth, a tilt of a wing sending her away from a reaching blue from Igen; a blur of necks and wings and tails is all she sees for the longest moment, right before she turns just slightly - enough to find herself easily in Jekzith's reach, fast-whirling eyes deepening in hue. She'll have to catch up with that cloud later. There is a sigh, slow and somehow relieved and disappointed at the same time, from Phara's direction, her stiff body seeming to come alive all at once. With a hazy, disjointed motion, she tips out of the chair, sightlessly aiming for the bowl and Bennath as he continues to spiral past Tiasheth and Jezkith, banking at the last moment and skimming the bowl to land neatly. Phara goes out into the bowl. Phara has left. Tiasheth> Jekzith snaps wings open at the very last minute to bank that rapid descent, straining against the pull of gravity now as he reaches with all the long length of him to wind confidently around Tiasheth and keep them both from crash-landing into the Bowl. There's a bright flash from his mind, warmth bursting free, incandescent like the sun as he loses himself with the woodland green. Tiasheth> Bennath wings down to a landing in the northeastern bowl. Tiasheth> Bennath has left. And Paige? She's still tucking herself more into that corner until Jekzith winds about Tiasheth, arms and shoulders going limp. Unaware of people stumbling out and leaving, she finally turns wide eyes upon P'draig and blinks, clarity reinserted for a fraction of a second before she releases a breathy, "/Oh/, " and takes a quivering step toward him. Long exhale and P'draig's chair tips over as he gets up off it, feet tangling a little with the legs as he straightens. Everyone else but Paige, he's not aware of as he moves towards her with suddenly swift strides and sweeps her up into his arms. "Paige ..." he breathes out and claims her mouth hungrily, hands already moving to get rid of clothing. Between his kiss and her enthusiastic response, Paige somehow manages to divest herself of her own articles, clinging to him desperately all the while. She has to trust him to get them to the bed and through the night; all sense has fled her completely. There's just them, this. All of them. And for now, it's all that she needs. There'll be time enough for words, later. |
Leave A Comment