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Date Posted: 22:02:33 09/02/05 Fri
Author: D'ctor - Whoth ( Romana and Adric )
Subject: ohnoes wtf?

D'ctor would be lurking in a corner, enjoying his meal. Goodness, he was hungry! Lots of work to do, though.. he'd better finish up and start preparations.

The bronzerider brushes the last few crumbs from his chin and dusts off his hands. He runs both down his plush coat as if resettling it - however, it's already immaculate. He leans against the wall and just watches the people pass by, listening to nearby conversations. A small peeping above his head alerts him to Adric's presense. D'ctor glances quickly up to the brown form. 'Ah, so, you were in luck.' The firelizard bears a few stringy tendrils of wherry meat in his little jaws. Fluttering to his Impressor's shoulder, he begins to impolitely gorge on them. His back gets an absentminded stroking from his perch. Romana swoops above them, chattering hoarsely, taking up her post on his other shoulder.

When all goes quiet and the Weyrleader starts to speak, D'ctor listens in with his usual aloof interest. Then he says a name, and the bronzerider's stomach drops out of his body. Oh my. This won't do at all, he confides to Whoth. The dragon groans and rouses himself.

Let me guess..

Don't even bother. D'ctor puts on a fake grin as all eyes turn to him. From his standpoint, he begins to announce in a broad, enthusiastic voice. 'Well! To be one of New Isle Weyr's wingleaders is a great honour, I needn't say.' He begins, very slowly, inching towards the exit. 'To lead the dragons into battle against the nefarious enemy of thread! To stand tall and charismatic, the ultimate power figure! To make all the right decisions at just the right moments! To be bound to the Weyr, caring for it when it's in need!'

Once directly in front of the opening, he takes a low bow. Adric and Romana cling rather pointily to the man's shoulder as he does so.

'However.. such a confining title isn't for me. Ta!'

And thus, D'ctor darts out in a great flurry of black cloth!

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