Logs:No Boys Allowed - Revision history

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Bot at 06:13, 25 January 2015

2015-01-25T06:13:23Z

Bot at 08:20, 5 July 2014

2014-07-05T08:20:02Z

Varied at 06:40, 16 October 2012

2012-10-16T06:40:37Z

Varied: Because L was AWLM for that clutch. Also, to fix italics.

2012-10-16T06:39:22Z

Because L was AWLM for that clutch. Also, to fix italics.

Varied at 03:32, 14 October 2012

2012-10-14T03:32:11Z

Dragonshy at 03:16, 14 October 2012

2012-10-14T03:16:05Z

Dragonshy: Created page with "{{ Log | who = Taikrin, Leova, Azaylia, Riorde, I'kris | where = Hot Springs, High Reaches Area | what = The gals of Glacier decide they need time to themselves. Determined to se..."

2012-10-14T03:14:36Z

Created page with "{{ Log | who = Taikrin, Leova, Azaylia, Riorde, I'kris | where = Hot Springs, High Reaches Area | what = The gals of Glacier decide they need time to themselves. Determined to se..."

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 {{Log
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 | who = Taikrin, Leova, Azaylia, Riorde, I'kris, Ralah, Beka

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+{{Log
 | who = Taikrin, Leova, Azaylia, Riorde, I'kris, Ralah, Beka
 | where = Hot Springs, High Reaches Area

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 | what = The gals of Glacier decide they need time to themselves. Determined to see titties, I'kris knows not of the danger he will be facing.
 | when = Day 18, Month 13, Turn 29
 | gamedate = 2012.10.13
 | quote = "This is a weird and terrible thing for us to be talking about, and I don't think we should be doing it,"

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 Azaylia squeaks, meshing up against Taikrin and not knowing how she feels about this. It's on her face, plain as day. "Is whiskey supposed to be cold? Or maybe it's wine? Is there anything fruity?" Whatever is in the skins, she offers the brownrider, both hands on the bucket. A glance towards Leova and Riorde, "If it bothers you," The whole scheme of things, "Then how come you don't tell? You could... kick the male riders out of your flights from now on, until they stop... doing things." Whatever things that have upset the older women so much. Ah, youthful naivete.
-There's a double take from Leova, and then she laughs abruptly. "That too. I meant, though." She tips a nod in Azaylia's direction, in time to eye Taikrin with the younger woman. There's no move to intervene, not here. Well, except to snag a 'skin from the goldrider, since Rahla's obliging Riorde at the moment. "It's more, you can choose. You're... working like us, you're flying with us, and that's great and all. But at the end of the day, you can choose and we just can't. And if we don't want to let a kid in, even if he's being nice at first, even if we don't want him smelly either, back /us/ up. See?" As to that other idea, "It's not that simple." Would that it were.
+There's a double take from Leova, and then she laughs abruptly. "That too. I meant, though." She tips a nod in Azaylia's direction, in time to eye Taikrin with the younger woman. There's no move to intervene, not here. Well, except to snag a 'skin from the goldrider, since Rahla's obliging Riorde at the moment. "It's more, you can choose. You're... working like us, you're flying with us, and that's great and all. But at the end of the day, you can choose and we just can't. And if we don't want to let a kid in, even if he's being nice at first, even if we don't want him smelly either, back ''us'' up. See?" As to that other idea, "It's not that simple." Would that it were.
 "I only mind when they think they can do whatever the fuck they want thanks to the fact that they have balls," Riorde mutters right before she hits the booze. That shuts her up momentarily. It's probably a good thing.

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 "Names of what?" Taikrin asks cautiously, once she dares to look back down. At Leova's face. Definitely her face, and nothing lower. "Want or done?"
-"Who's H'kon again?" Leova questions, like she's heard the name, like she ''knows'' the name maybe even, but it's just not getting there... and then she's dissolving into laughter that's suspiciously like giggles, here and there. Both, evidently, is fine. Or just as not-fine. Whichever, it's all below the waterline.
+"H'kon...," Leova half-questions, like she's heard the name, like she ''knows'' the name, but it's just not getting there... and then she's dissolving into laughter that's suspiciously like giggles, here and there. Both, evidently, is fine. Or just as not-fine. Whichever, it's all below the waterline.
 Another "Oh." For Riorde, "Yeah, he is ''not'' fun. He's the opposite of fun..." Azaylia trails, whisky on her breath and heat sucking the non-alcoholic moisture out of her. "I thought Flights weren't fun?" Hence her answer. "He's the most boring brownrider in the whole world and he hates me." Huff. "Okay, he doesn't hate me, but he's like a cranky old man." She'll try again, "Why not Taikrin or Riorde?"
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 "Who should win Leova's next flight." If there's a possibility of discomfort, Riorde pays it no mind. That, or she enjoys needling the other wingrider. "Yeah," she picks up on then, turning to Leova with a big Cheshire smile. "Why not one of us?"
-Leova reemerges long enough to scowl, actually ''scowl'' at Azaylia. "You wished a cranky old man on me. Shame on you." To Riorde, something more like puzzlement, soon followed by wariness. "'Cause you're my wingmates," she tells her. "And you'll gloat. And you'll know and ''I'll' know and mostly it's that you'll gloat. An' then you'll hassle each other an' I'm not a ''bone.''"
+Leova reemerges long enough to scowl, actually ''scowl'' at Azaylia. "You wished a cranky old man on me. Shame on you." To Riorde, something more like puzzlement, soon followed by wariness. "'Cause you're my wingmates," she tells her. "And you'll gloat. And you'll know and ''I'll'' know and mostly it's that you'll gloat. An' then you'll hassle each other an' I'm not a ''bone.''"
 Taikrin's only words of wisdom, before she contents herself with drinking into oblivion? "Flights are plenty of fun, when you catch the right people."

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 {{ Log
-| who = Taikrin, Leova, Azaylia, Riorde, I'kris
+| who = Taikrin, Leova, Azaylia, Riorde, I'kris, Ralah, Beka
 | where = Hot Springs, High Reaches Area
 | what = The gals of Glacier decide they need time to themselves. Determined to see titties, I'kris knows not of the danger he will be facing.
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 "Not my baby." And that's what matters. Riorde far too smug with this, along with the agreement that follows. "Yes, I am a terrible terrible person." She's finally forced to pay attention when Svissath hits the water -- and the water hits her. "The fuck," she snarls, all play slipping right off as she wipes the water out of her eyes so she can well and truly glare. "Can't you hear? It's private. ''Out.''"
 Given Riorde's taking up the cause, Leova can spare an askance look at Azaylia, even as the waves slop higher across her shoulders, threatening her jaw: really? ''Really?'' For the foreign brownrider, "Nice that you mean well and all." If he does. "Come back tomorrow. Reckon it's free then."
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 I'kris's face falls. ''Teenagers''. If his goal ''was'' to get an eyeful of nubile female riders, he's probably achieved it (and let's face it: it probably was), but he doesn't seem happy about the situation. "He needs washing," he protests, shifting attention from one face to the next. "We won't be long, honest." It doesn't look as though he's expecting much, though-- and Svissath, having caused that wave so recently, pushes back up off the water and into the air again. ''He'', at least, seems to be taking the hint.
 Don't think Leova didn't see that apology. Or maybe ''Vrianth'' did. "Every other part of our fucking ''lives,''" the normally taciturn woman tells the goldrider tightly, "we have to answer to ''men,'' we have to do what they ''say,'' we have to let them ''in,''" and by the sound of it, she sure doesn't just mean this nice warm pool. "And here you would... ''here.''"
 "Did you not understand?" Now Riorde moves, starting to head towards Leova so she can join her in the face-off against this upstart brownrider. That is, until Taikrin gets it in her head that she needs to be drowned. Ri goes down, spluttering, and looks severely pissed off by the time she surfaces. "Fuck it, Taikrin, not ''now.''" Someone is not sharing the whisky tonight.
 "I... I didn't mean..?" Azaylia tries, blisfully unaware of what might be learned in her years yet unlived. For now, it's her inexperience versus Leova's rightful anger. "I understand." She likely doesn't, but she wants to, for all that she looks properly scolded. Hraedhyth follows the brown's movements, watching him rise with a satisfied huff. Though her eyes are still rapidly whirling, turned to the women with most of her focus on Leova. The protective arch doesn't let up. Azaylia's back to sinking up to her shoulders, inching a bit to the side, past Riorde and Leova to hopefully scootch out of range of their anger.
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 "''Tomorrow,''" Leova interjects. She's got one swift sidelong look for Azaylia, but dosn't say more: not in front of him. Not with her willing. Not with him ''going,'' if there's any chance of that.
 "''Fine''," says I'kris, abruptly frustrated. "We're leaving. Shells, all we wanted was a ''bath''. A '''''bath'''''. I'm not trying to impose my will on you, or kick you out, or fucking ''anything''." The look he aims in Leova's direction is derisive; he'd probably have done the same to Riorde, were it not for that sudden drowning. "How was I supposed to fucking know that this was some... feminist convention. Down with the patriarchy! Women power! Men suck!" He turns on his heel to go - to meet Svissath on the other side of the clearing, and to take his (cold and wet) dragon home. Grumpily.
 "Whatever." Riorde's still quite cool towards Taikrin, swimming off and away to go sulk beside Leova. "Other ''wings'' suck," she corrects I'kris as he goes. Run away, little brownrider.

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 | weather =
 | categories = General
-| mentions = h'kon, f'rint
+| mentions = H'kon, F'rint
 | icons =
 | log = Hot Springs, High Reaches Area