VoyForums
[ Show ]
Support VoyForums
[ Shrink ]
VoyForums Announcement: Programming and providing support for this service has been a labor of love since 1997. We are one of the few services online who values our users' privacy, and have never sold your information. We have even fought hard to defend your privacy in legal cases; however, we've done it with almost no financial support -- paying out of pocket to continue providing the service. Due to the issues imposed on us by advertisers, we also stopped hosting most ads on the forums many years ago. We hope you appreciate our efforts.

Show your support by donating any amount. (Note: We are still technically a for-profit company, so your contribution is not tax-deductible.) PayPal Acct: Feedback:

Donate to VoyForums (PayPal):

[ Login ] [ Main index ] [ Post a new message ] [ Search | Check update time | Archives: 1, [2], 3, 4 ]

[ Next Thread | Previous Thread | Next Message | Previous Message ]

Date Posted: 17:01:00 08/20/05 Sat
Author: P'rin & Caphoth, Dell
Subject: >~<
In reply to: L'nox(Primath) 's message, "†Take this world from me†" on 20:21:04 07/15/05 Fri

Hesitating at the entrance to the Lower Caverns, P'rin hears the applause resounding within and realizes that he'd missed the Weyrleader's speech. Shaking his head, he shrugs philosophically and saunters on inside. He'll just have to ask somebody who'd arrived on time. Drifting towards the food, the bluerider does his best not to bump into anyone, though the matter is complicated by the lack of his left eye. For the Feast, he's wearing his best eyepatch, woven from thread dyed three different shades of blue-grey to match the mottling of his dragon's hide, instead of one of his tougher everyday wherhide affairs. Having been told that the scar running from forehead to chin is rakish, rather than ugly, he's finally trimmed off the long tuft of hair that used to cover the left side of his face, and between the eyepatch, the scar (which has, indeed, finally faded enough that it no longer looks like a mutilation), and a new tunic and jacket in the same blue-grey patterning, he has a sort of wild but romantic air about him, like a pirate captain attending a ball.

If you hadn't spent so long getting dressed, you wouldn't have missed the Weyrleader's speech, Caphoth points out reasonably, following the events through his rider's mind. The blue isn't on the heights like most of the dragons, but rather curled up in his weyr, debating whether to go sleep among the others or stay here and doze. He sleeps quite a lot, possibly because he puts so much effort in during the day, trying to prove that he may be the size of a green but he's just as tough as any of the other blues. He and his rider have their pride to maintain. Caphoth may never fly a green, and P'rin may worry sometimes about their performance during Threadfall (which they haven't, as yet, actually flown in a proper wing), but in the day-to-day affairs of the Weyr, Caphoth tries harder than any other blue in order to match his fellows. As far as P'rin is concerned, he deserves to sleep as much as he wants to.

Chuckling to himself - a sight that doesn't suprise any of the other dragonriders, since they know exactly what he's laughing at - P'rin moves through the buffet line, loading his plate. /True, true. Though I could also have been here sooner if I hadn't stopped to oil your itchy spots before I got dressed, because then I wouldn't have had to bathe./ Not that he would have ever neglected his dragon so shamefully, but he can joke about it secure in the knowledge that Caphoth knows better. /I bathed and oiled you before we attended the Hatching!/ Caphoth doesn't answer in words, just sends him a touch of apology mixed in with affection, and P'rin smiles fondly. Caught up in a moment of pure love for his dragon, he isn't paying attention to where he's going, and to avoid a bronzerider ahead hastily sidesteps left - right into L'nox. Startled, he turns to get a look at who he's knocked into. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to do that," the bluerider says hastily, setting down his plate and reaching to help L'nox steady himself.

A flutter of wings is the only warning he gets before a bronze firelizard lands on his shoulder, chirping apologetically. "What kept you?" P'rin asks it shortly, too busy apologizing to L'nox to stop and scold Dell for trying to sneak up on his blind side again. The bronze isn't really attempting to fool his rider, but Caphoth has made it clear that P'rin should be allowed to think this, because the bluerider would not be happy if he knew that his dragon was conspiring to keep him safe. With a firelizard on his blind side, P'rin can't be taken by surprise. Chirping apologetically, Dell sends him a mental image of a drudge surreptitiously feeding him scraps, and P'rin snorts in amusement. Then, the firelizard sorted out and L'nox's clothing rescued from any food-related tragedies, the bluerider stops to really take in his unintended victim for the first time. He smiles apologetically, but there's the slightest hint of an edge to it, like a shark scenting blood, barely perceptible except to one who knows him and his habits. Just because his dragon can't fly a green doesn't mean that P'rin allows himself to endure chastity, and he doesn't worry about gender, a dragon's colors, or even whether his bedmates are dragonriders at all, as long as they're attractive and willing. He doesn't try to take advantage of anyone who doesn't want to have said advantage taken, but you'll never know who's willing until you try. "I really am sorry for knocking into you like that," he repeats. "Here, let me take your plate for you. Where were you sitting?" His eyes alight upon Primath. "And who's this lovely creature? I don't think I've ever seen such an exquisite green."

[ Next Thread | Previous Thread | Next Message | Previous Message ]

Replies:

Forum timezone: GMT-5
VF Version: 3.00b, ConfDB:
Before posting please read our privacy policy.
VoyForums(tm) is a Free Service from Voyager Info-Systems.
Copyright © 1998-2019 Voyager Info-Systems. All Rights Reserved.