Logs:Fly far, my love
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| RL Date: 9 August, 2015 |
| Who: E'dre, Ebeny |
| Involves: Fort Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Laurienth rises and Wroth catches |
| Where: Guest Weyr, Fort Weyr |
| When: Day 22, Month 6, Turn 38 (Interval 10) |
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| The timing of a greenflight is often not ideal and Wroth rarely finds call to follow the many flights that occur at the Weyr. E'dre is used to ignoring them as well and with the amount of workload he has shouldered as Acting Weyrleader he has not noticed any proddy behavior from his weyrmate or Laurienth. Wroth has noticed and has been keeping a not-so-subtle eye on his green. When Laurienth does take to the skies, Wroth gives E'dre no option as he follows her into the feeding pens. E'dre's eyes widen and then narrow as he shakes his head and refocuses on the small group of Holders' he had been meeting with. "Gentlemen," he interrupts one's tirade about requiring additional sweeps and rider support with a cutting gesture as he rises. "We'll have to continue this meeting another time." He looks to the bronzerider at his side and points towards the skies. A nod is exchanged between them as the Acting Weyrleader heads out into the bowl and the bronzerider rises to begin giving excuses and setting up another meeting. Wroth calls to Laurienth as he downs an aging beast and shreds it beneath his claws. « Fly far, my love. I want to see these other males falter trying to catch you. » Ebeny knows herself well enough to understand that she's in no way, shape or form a good example for the weyrlings when Laurienth gets so close to rising, and so she has no class or students to hand over to anyone else once her green launches for the pens. It's a short walk from her weyr and to the flight weyr, head down all the way, as if it could hide her uncharacteristic scowl, and when she gets there she puts herself as far from the male's riders as she can, more for their sake than hers. It's the least and maybe the most she can do. « I won't go easy on you, » is as much for Wroth as it is for the others who've dared to join Laurienth in the pens, her muzzle bloody and paws already well and truly stained. It's carnage: she downs beasts more for the sake of it than to drink, and when the angular green gets bored, she just abandons the ground for the skies, leaving a roar of challenge in her wake. Wroth has barely blooded the beast beneath his claws when Laurienth launches into the air. He's been poised for this and so is already coiled for the spring into the air when she goes up. He sends a thunderous chuckle her way, the darkness of a gathering storm swirling around his mind. « You'd better not. I don't need my win given to me like some. » He snarls at a blue who has moved beside him. That blue will feel the error of that as the brown angles his wings and slams his side into the blue's shoulder to unsteady him. His laugh echos out to the other dragons' as he straightens and carries himself upwards to pursue Laurienth. E'dre's not far behind the others filing into the guest weyr and he's got a stony expression for any that happen to look his way. It is noticeable that no Hematite riders' aside from himself have answered the flight. The brownrider settles against the wall and folds his arms, head-tipping back against the wall to rest as he closes his eyes and wills Wroth onward. It could be Wroth's words or it could be what he does, but Laurienth twists her voice into a high screech as she glances back and swings rapidly right to avoid an over-eager blue. « I surrender to no-one, » she reminds him and the others, however true or untrue it is, her mind still focused on blood and sport more than the end result of her inevitable capture. Her path is a difficult one to follow, its intricacies designed to keep her out of reach and have those who pursue gathered too close together for comfort, and what she doesn't do by way of knocking any from the skies, their proximity to each other might. "Stop it!" Ben snarls, raking her hands through her hair, before she turns her frustration and fury to the furniture and launches forward to grab the back of a chair and curl her hands around its top to smash its legs into the ground. It doesn't break. Yet. Wroth knows better than to continue throwing out any comments towards Laurienth. He follows behind her in a strategic way, allowing the more eager males to pass him by and fail for their efforts. He doesn't mimic the intricate movements she makes, keeping his path more steady and changing it when needed to keep him as in line with her movements as he may be. Above, he watches as another brown and blue tangle against each other and knock themselves out of the flight. He gloats as they pass, sending his thunderous laughter after them as he continues on. E'dre's attention shifts to the room at Ben's snarling and he watches her grab for the chair with a frown. He doesn't move to pull it out of her grasp and so will merely witness its destruction like the rest that are still remaining in the weyr. Another brownrider steps towards Ben with the intention of grabbing the chair (or her) but is met by E'dre's no-nonsense grab of the elbow. "Don't move any closer," he growls, grip tightening for emphasis. There is very little that is sensible about Laurienth when the urge to fly eradicates what control she has over her darker impulses, and it's these impulses that allow her to strike out at a smaller bronze who scoots over the pack of males and reaches to grab her by whatever means he can. Laurienth kicks out and catches him near in the mouth, just as Ben slams the chair into the ground again and snaps, "Enough!" just as wood begins to splinter. Her lifemate is too busy twisting to evade that bronze, losing some of the height she's pushed herself to, all a tangle of shadowy wings and defiance, and neither care for the ichor streaming from the bronze, nor the rider who holds his own jaw, mirroring his dragon's pain. In the end, the green fights to regain that height, near clawing at the air, but it makes her an easier target. Wroth takes his opportunity to strike after the bronze is rendered incapable of continuing the pursuit by Laurienth. He shoulders his way past the ichor-coated bronze and twists in the air to swoop up beneath Laurienth. He slides below her and reaches, his arms quick and secure in their grab. Laurienth is pulled close and held firmly as his tail slinks securely around her own. He directs them down without further thought. He is not gentle in his claim and as he opens his mind to hers, there is no sweet promise offered. He flanks her darkness with a thunderous boom and a crackle of lightening as he seeks to fill her space with his own. She is his. The others within the weyr do not linger when the winner is known. E'dre maintains enough sense of himself to barricade the door. He will not allow another incident to happen. He turns then, stumbling towards Ebeny and that battered chair. He may start gentle with Ebeny as he reaches for her but it may not end that way as Wroth's consciousness begins to subsume his own. Laurienth doesn't go without a fight. She never does. The idea of surrender is intolerable between the moment of capture and the security of twining, and she twists to bite at Wroth's neck, teeth scraping against hide as claws seek to inflict similar damage, her intent not to harm, but to prove herself and him: she will not be bested by one who cannot take what doles out. The screech of poorly-connected wires echoes after his thunder, sapphire sparks of electricity an answer to lightning, until the maze of her mind absorbs his. It leaves Ebeny almost insensible, the bark of sound she has for E'dre's mindfulness one full of need and confusion, her eyes a little bit wild. She begins to lunge for him as he reaches her, hands moving to get fabric out of the way by force rather than care, another needy sound spilling from her as her lips find his. She doesn't care where they end up. The floor, the table, the bed - it matters not. Skin and teeth rend flesh and leave Wroth's mahogany hide battered and streaming of ichor. It is more superficial than damaging and he snarls a warning to Laurienth as he tightens his grip on her. She may not want to submit but she will. Sparks of electricity is further fueled by the crackle of a lightening storm and as Wroth melds his awareness with Laurienth until the darkness subsumes all into nothingness. He lands them safely outside of the Weyr in an abandoned field of withered corn stalks and dusty-earth. He would keep hold of her and curl himself around her if Laurienth permits and rest for a time. Within the guest weyr, secured against others, E'dre's lips claim Ben's and then they claim every inch of her as his hands follow in the removal of clothes. That floor, that table, and that bed all seem to be used in some manner during their whirlwind love-making. Once their dragons have settled to the ground, E'dre begins to rouse into his own awareness. The disturbed sheets are the only sign they did in fact use the bed it seems for they are currently sprawled on the floor beside it in a tangle of sheets. He doesn't press Ebeny to rouse beside him, he only turns to curl himself about her. He rests an arm over her chest to snuggle in closer as his nose burrows against her neck. Now that Laurienth has Wroth, or he has her, it doesn't matter that they sleep in the same wallow at night in any number of curled combinations - she's not letting him go now. She lets him keep hold of her and twines her tail tightly around his as she settles against the warmth of brown hide, her eyes narrowed to slits as she dozes and watches for anything or anyone who gets too near. Her rider is less aware than she is, and only murmurs something that turns out to be nothing more than a sound of contentment, edged though it is with dull, lazy complaint. Maybe about the floor. Ben isn't alert enough to do much more than press herself closer to her weyrmate and go still, though the chill of the ground eventually draws another mutter of displeasure from her, not that it's actually enough to get her to move. Wroth drowses beside Laurienth until such a time as both are ready to return to the Weyr and their wallow that is waiting for them. No one is likely to disturb the two sleeping dragons' even if the place they're resting weren't at a fair distance from the nearest holding. E'dre answers Ebeny's muttering draws E'dre away from her long enough to reach for whatever blankets he can find. He tucks them around her and then pauses to press a kiss against her cheek. He stretches his arms briefly overhead and yawns before he scrubs at the back of his neck and gives the room a look. "A mess. We made a mess," he observes aloud before he pushes himself up to stand and go about collecting his clothes. "Don't care," Ebeny sighs out not so long after E'dre sets about locating his clothes, and it's the loss of his presence at her side that finally makes her do more than lie there in the tangled sheets. Blearily, she blinks around at the room, then reaches for the edge of the bed and hauls herself up from the floor, to pitch herself forward and tumble across the mattress, bringing the tangle of sheets with her. She curls up there in a dishevelled heap with little regard for modesty, watching the brownrider while actual, sensible thought begins to return, little by little. "Love you," she murmurs. "Come here." E'dre's got his pants on already but he turns at Ebeny's beckoning and returns to her without any hesitation. He eases back on the ground to gather her up in his arms, drawing her to his chest as he leans back against the bed for support. "I love you more," he tells her as he presses his lips against the top of her head. "I wish I could stay longer. I was in the middle of a meeting when Laurienth went up... and I should make sure it was rescheduled properly." His chest rises and falls with his sigh as he draws her closer to hug. "I wish I could pretend this was in the past... when I had no responsibilities to draw me from holding you for however long you'd let me." He glances towards the door and the chair he maneuvered to block the entry of anyone. "At least we weren't interrupted," he adds dryly. "Though I can't say we're unmarked." He nips playfully at her shoulder. "You were..." In the midst of turning to curl more closely to him, what he's said and where he was finally make their way to the more logical part of Ben's mind and have her staring up at him, half guilty and half aghast. "...You should've stayed in your meeting," she murmurs. "We would... have survived, one way or another. You shouldn't make sacrifices like that for us." Though she isn't exactly moving away to let him go with any great speed. She tips her head back when he nips at her shoulder, another one of those needy sounds spilling from her, but, given another breath or so to compose herself, she lifts her hands away from E'dre and tells him, "You need to go... sort things out." E'dre has made the statement of what he should do and yet he lingers. "I would never purposefully avoid your flight, Ebeny," he tells her as he loosens his arms briefly against her. "If those I meet with do not understand the reasons behind my need to go, they'd have found something to be upset about from any of the answers I may have given them during the meeting. I'm happy to be here." He presses his lips against her hair and inhales contentedly. "I'll go and sort things out in a while," he tells her, shifting her in a meaningful way back towards the blankets. "If you're of the mood to dally." His smile is slow and sensual as he hovers over her. "Or if you're too tired..," he trails off and pretends to begin to stand. "I'm not saying that you would," Ben insists, "but maybe you should if it's a choice between us and irritating a bunch of people who could be useful to you." She still doesn't let herself touch him again, intent on not making him feel guilty or seeming to resent the current state of affairs, and begins to see her way to escaping the blankets, only for him to start teasing her. It does away with what self-control she's managed to exert, and when E'dre pretends to stand she reaches to hook fingers into the waist of his trousers and haul him back down over her, her only answer a fierce kiss that is entirely her desire and not her green's. E'dre can't help but laugh at her hooking of his trousers as he falls back towards the bed. He seems uninclined to rush once they've fallen into each other's arms again. After each are sated again, E'dre curls around Ebeny and allows himself to drowse as their dragons have been doing. It isn't until E'dre feels Wroth stirring in his awareness that he shifts against his weyrmate and stretches. He murmurs of his love to her as he holds her and then roused enough to collect his clothes he begins to dress. He waits until Ebeny's collected herself and has her check him to ensure he looks presentable enough to face the rest of the day. Any that are walking near the guest weyr when they exit will likely catch E'dre stealing another kiss from Ebeny before they part for the day. If the Acting Weyrleader is in a good temper and prone to laughing the rest of the day - that's enough for people to gossip in a friendly way about what they deem 'good' for their leader. |
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