Breaking Down [Open]

[DaeSiggil]

[OOC: Mah muze returned, somewhat! ^^]

R'rovin wasn't really willing to follow any lessons today. He didn't even know if the weyrling master gave one, he didn't really care anyway. His hands danced and caressed the soft hide of his Wineryth. The dragon beneath his hand sighed softly and stretched faintly ~Continue, R'rovinMine.~ He commanded lightly and the man complied with a soft chuckle and kept doing so. The young Dragon laid down into the water, sometimes moving; resulting in making R'rovin even wetter than he normally would be. The young man didn't mind however, it was his Dragon that did it.

He never could bring himself to be angry with the creature. He let out a soft sigh and let his eyes roam around, there where other people of course with their Wher and Dragons but they didn't bother him and he was happy like that "You're getting too lazy." He teased the Crimson who opened an eye and looked at him as if he doubted that he really had heard it. He just chuckled and patted the soft hide, making the Crimson relax once more, colors swirling, before setting on a content blue-green.

A trill escaped the young Crimson and he chuckled again. The kitten by his side had taken his perch upon Wineryth's back, between the joints of both wings, curled up. He poked at the small furry body as well "And you're a little traitor." He kept chuckling and the kitten opened one eye to peer at him, he was happier than he had been in a long while and he wasn't afraid to let it show to the outside world this time. Those around him didn't look at him, so why should he hide his emotions now? There was no stranger to judge him.

He stood up however and looked above him, as if he could see something that others couldn't "What would you say now mother?" He questioned the silent air above him, closing his eyes. His good mood faded "Would you have been proud?" The Crimson, worried stood up as well, careful not to stir the sleeping feline on his back too much ~R'rovinMine?~ He questioned, but the young male didn't answer "And you father." He hissed, anger twisting his features "Would you dare to rape me now?"

He didn't care for softness anymore, but none that wasn't closer than ten feet, which luckily was none as far as R'rovin knew, from him wouldn't have heard the exact words spoken. His fingers dug into his pale flesh again and he stumbled backward. The Crimson stepped forward, concerned and touched R'rovin's cheek with his muzzle ~Mine?~ He tried, but it didn't seem to get through the male anymore as he wrapped his arms around Wineryth. His good mood was replaced by this breaking down, he had suppressed it for many turns, but this gentleness seemed to bring it all up. He maybe was finally starting to heal with the help of the Crimson that allowed R'rovin to cling with a bewildered expression.

[pandoraMisfit]

M’yran was bored. Extremely bored in fact. Interrogations about his dragon’s bizarre colouration had left him somewhat sullen. How would he know? And Fedorath, well. She wasn’t helping, what with her snappy attitude to anyone who bothered him for too long. Actually, it was more her snapping than her attitude she was worried about. The young thing had already taken a chunk out of another lad’s arm for hassling him. Leaning back on the cot in his new room within the weyrling hall, he sighed. The dragonet lifted her head to look at him almost disdainfully, white eyes glaring. What do you expect? You are Mine are you not? Then why huff at the fact I am only trying to help you when these people get too inquisitive? The lad in turn looked at his bonded, his own eyes showing signs of resignation. “Because of the way you do it dearest.” They had already had this conversation many times in the last few days and the inevitable reply came almost instantly. Oh and I should change my colour just for you? No, I will do things as I shall, and you shall get used to it. Not even M’yran could deny the hint of venom injected into the last sentence. She was so... abrasive. But then again, the boy mused, so too could he be.

Suddenly getting up, the red head looked about his room, found a shirt and threw it on. “I’m going to the lake, come with me or don’t, I know how you like to stay close to your brothers.” That got the dragonets hackles up. She hissed at him before pulling herself to her feet. I will come. In your infinite wisdom, oh mine, you are for once wrong. Though yes, I prefer to stay close to Fremonth and Folkvarth and as much as I wish you would stay with theirs, you must continue to rebel against us and keep disappearing. I will follow, because I will not abide being apart from you. Some dim-glow may yet lay his hands upon you in anger at your Impression of me and I intend to be there to let him know why you are Mine. M’yran just snorted at this tirade. He was getting used to it. Heading over to the press by his bed, he removed a jar of cream, ready to spread it over the Mimic’s delicate hide. She in turn flared her wings and hissed at him again, letting him know her distaste at ‘walking around like some sort of coddled swamp monster.’ “Burn then, but don’t moa at me when your hide hurts.” He sniffed, pocketing the salve anyway.

It didn’t take them long to get to the lake, and Fedorath instantly went to find a tree to sit under. She was grumbling about something or other, but M’yran didn’t take much notice. Someone had caught his eye. Fumbling for a name, he couldn’t find one, not having met the guy before. A grin crept across his face. Well now, if Fedorath was going to stay put, why not try and have a little fun? After all, it had been a while since he’d had any attention – not that many people took to him that way, unless they were, and here he shuddered at the thought, girls. No, the lad across the way from him may not be that much of a looker, but he definitely looked like the dark and brooding type. That’d suit him fine. Fedorath snorted at him, reminding him that she was watching and that he’d best not get up to anything.

Leaving his dragon to her grumbling, he bounded over and plonked himself next to this new person. He seemed a bit tense, drawn into himself. The dragon was cute, a baby Crimson from the same clutch as Fedorath... That sparked his memory! The lad next to him was R’rovin, and the dragonet was Wineryth. “Hi there!” He put on his largest smile, subtly puffing his chest out as he spoke. It was then he noticed the marks on R’rovin’s face, as if someone had been clawing at it. Maybe he’d done it himself? Concern swiftly covered his features. “Wanna talk about it? Or do you just wanna go swim?” His voice however, was still bubbly bright, for he was happy to just be out, not being stalked constantly by two other Mimic’s and their riders, along with his own.

[DaeSiggil]

He finally had pulled back, wiping at his eyes and trying to destroy the evidence he had cried a little. The marks his fingers left had been somewhat helpful. The crimson dragon still looked confused and seemed more awkward than helpful ~Are you okay, R'rovinMine?~ He questioned once more, dark red-hued skull lowering and nudging the thin lanky form of his Bonded again. The young man in question laughed softly, the sound bitter and fake to everyone present's ears and he rubbed Wineryth's eye ridge to calm the crimson somewhat "I'm okay, yes." He answered softly, both didn't comment on the fact that it had been clearly a lie. He tried to remove the traces, it was better if no one knew of this episode. They would ask questions, questions he wasn't willing to answer.

Wineryth looked at his R'rovin for a bit longer, then nodded and lowered his head and gazed away. The crimson felt the tiny paws of Kitty moving over his back and he relaxed. It almost felt like a massage, he had expected that the feline jumped from his back to go to R'rovin, but it still send a pang of disappointment through him. He let out a soft sigh and directed his attention to the pair just arriving. His eyes slowly swirled to an angry red, he didn't want them here. Not when R'rovin felt so vulnerable, one could say a lot about the Crimson, but it was certain that he would move heaven on earth to help his bonded if it was truly needed. He didn't move from his spot however, muscles tensing faintly, not enough as he didn't want to alert his human, but it seemed that he wouldn't have the peace he wished for his R'rovin.

His form tensed when he heard and felt someone seat next to him, eyes not moving for a few moments. He finally moved them however and narrowed them promptly as he noticed how... bright, the other person's hair looked. He didn't know what to think of this, he had heard a few things of course, that she or he was a female or was it the opposite? He didn't know, didn't care. The person was an unknown factor in his head, this not worth noticing. It seemed however that he had to notice this person if he wanted to get rid of them fast. He didn't like the chirpiness either "...Hello.." He more grumbled than spoke, looking at Wineryth to look at how the Crimson reacted to the presence of this... unwelcome presence.

He didn't answer the questions for a while, but when he did he also turned his gaze back to the other person next to him "No, thank you." He spoke lowly, he didn't want to swim or talk. He didn't count the fact that he was seated in the water with his legs and that he was holding a rather (short on his part) conversation. He almost shuddered, but Wineryth had other plans, having heard M’yran speak ~Fedorath.~ He addressed her ~Tell yours that R'rovin will swim.~ Mischief, unnoticed by said R'rovin danced in the Crimson's gaze as he moved subtle, ready to push the sour man in. It was maybe better like that, or else the young man would have stood up and ran as far away as he could. He was however completely obvious, the way that Wineryth liked it at the moment.

He didn't like them, but he didn't like his R'rovin's mood better and if it took the both of them to get it gone, then so be it. He wouldn't cry because he had to knock on the 'enemy' their door. He would do so gladly time after time if it stopped R'rovin from being like this. He still felt wet on his chest from where the man's head had been pressed in his hide. It gave of an uncomfortable feeling and caused that he felt sorrowful as well, a feeling that he didn't like. He looked at the other pair once more, hoping that it would work.

The kitten moved away from R'rovin his arms and came closer to the other 'man' and sniffed at him. He sneezed once or twice and then clambered in M'yran his lap and purred softly. R'rovin just looked at the small feline, a soft expression in his eyes, before shaking his head. He was thinking fondly of the kitten, that it was a little traitor. It was maybe better for now, he didn't know how he would have reacted otherwise if the kitten had remained in his arms. Faranth forbid that he would have hurt it. An unnoticeable shiver ran over his spine and his muscled tightened, trying to refrain from curling up in a small ball and hiding from everyone.

[pandoraMisfit]

Well wasn’t he just a bundle of joy? This however, did not deter the eager boy from his goal. He would get R’rovin to talk to him, even if it took shoving bamboo splinters under his nails. Well... perhaps maybe nothing quite so drastic. “Dude, don’t be like that, it’s a nice day and it’ll cool everyone off. Anyway, the name’s M’yran.” His voice still held a bright timbre, but this time was laced with mock resentment. Looking out to the lake, he was momentarily dazzled by the brightness of the sun reflecting off the glass-like waters. Still, when his sight readjusted, it was a beautiful sight. He sat in silence as he looked, just taking in the sight, letting it penetrate his every pore to revive him from the dreary days that had just passed.

Fedorath watched from her shadowy spot, hissing under her breath as she caught the waves of Wineryth’s dislike for both herself and Hers. However, for a change, she remained mentally quiet. The little red was of no concern to her. With that in mind, she started to preen her wingtips, nibbling delicately at the joint where the phalanges met the claw that formed the point of the wing. Whilst yes it was good to be away from those rather annoying Onyxes and there ceaseless enquiries, she felt uneasy. Having been born so close to her brothers, she loathed being apart from them. Hers kept telling her it would do no harm having some private time, but she did not know. And so, she kept to her grooming to alleviate the tension she felt, keeping an ever watchful eye on the ‘boy’ she called hers. How strange it was, the mental state of the one she had chosen, over all others on the sands. Intriguing though. Yet he was the one for her, the only one that was worthy enough that day. Yes, they would wreak havoc one day, let him have his peace now, she thought.

A chittering nearby caught her ears and her neck snapped to the left, eyeing up a fire lizard who had dared appear next to her. The thing wasn’t exactly tiny when compared to the young dragon. The creature her eye was fixed on was a blue shade, the exact tone of the waters not too far away in fact. She crooned enticingly, her ivory eyes not giving away her intent. Come closer, help me get rid of this itch little one. I will play with you if you do. Oh yes, she thought, she would play. Bewitched, the little blue indeed did come closer, daring to sidle up to the bizarre looking dragon. He warbled with pleasure at the idea of play, eager to frolic in the water. Just as he reached her forepaw, Fedorath nonchalantly pinned the thing to the ground, but so softly that the stupid thing didn’t realise she was ‘playing’ by her own rules. Fierce glee rippled through her body as she encouraged the little thing to relax, this was all part of the game. And believing her, the fire lizard did just that, allowing his body to go floppy. Malice shimmered through her white eyes and she lowered her head next to the creature, her maw opening, ready to crunch down on the bone of the idiots’ left wing. That was until the annoying Crimson one had to go and speak to her. Her teeth did not completely miss their target, but only by a fraction did she catch the wing sail at all. The little blue shrieked in terror and flapped madly to get away, ripping the membrane free of bondage. The distraction caused her paw to lift enough that the terrified lizard tore free and quickly vanished between after a short, laboured ascent.

M’yran jumped at the shrill sound that pierced the air, immediately pinpointing the source. “For shard’s sake, what did it ever do to you!?” He fumed, utterly disgusted at his dragons behaviour. At this Fedorath merely snorted. It was a stupid, lazy thing with no use. I was bored. As I keep telling you, you are far too squeamish for your own good. She dropped her head to her claws, snarling away to herself at the lost game. If her eyes had a hue, they would have been wheeling brightest red at this point. Flicking her eyelid shut layer by layer, she closed all but the last. They were thick enough to protect her fragile eyes from wayward dust, but transparent enough that she could keep a close eye on the goings on.

Turning away from his dragon, M’yran grimaced. He would not apologise for her actions though. He wasn’t in control of her for she was as much a pet as a fire lizard keeps a wherry as one. Hmm, that tickled, he thought. Looking down, he saw that a little cat was the cause of the tickling. A smile lit his face again when the ball of fluff dumped itself in his lap. His fingers ran gently through the soft fur, scratching at the spot just underneath it’s ear, behind its cheekbone that cats so loathed but at the same time, adored. Like any other feline, this one’s reaction was to lean into the caress, trying to move the fingers elsewhere, but half heartedly, whilst purring all the time. After a little while of this, the red head plopped the cat back on the floor. “Well, if you aren’t going to swim, don’t mind if I do. It’s not like the company here is exactly welcoming.” This was directed at the sullen looking person beside him. R’rovin hadn’t said more than four words to him, and that greatly irritated him.

Without another thought, M’yran stripped off his shirt, baring his gleaming light bronze torso. Despite his ‘condition’ as some would put it, he was gaining in muscle definition in the chest area, his pecs outlined gently in his skin. More impressive, or so he thought, were the beginnings of a six-pack, no matter how faint they were. Shucking his trousers to leave just his undershorts, the lad took a step backwards before taking a running dive at the water. Splashing in, it was a lot cooler than he had realised and he shivered briefly, before his body adjusted. Dallying around, he swam no more than a few yards from the shoreline. Just as he was about to repeat his previous question, which had been so abruptly answered, Fedorath spoke. The Crimson one said that His would swim. It was a remark made as an afterthought, as if she had been mulling something else over and only just thought to say. She didn’t name Wineryth, because to her, he was a silly trifle and no more.

M’yran shook his head disdainfully. Trust her to not mention that before he had to go and shoot his mouth. Treading the water, he cocked his head at the Crimson, and noted the faint movement he had made. Clocking on, he grinned from ear to ear and called out impishly, “Come on in, the water’s fine! Don’t just sit there!” He thrust backwards with his feet, swimming further from the shore with ease. He stopped only a short distance away and teased again, waiting with a gleam in his eyes for any reaction.

[Lauri]

And, like a magnet, the other point of the triangle arrived in quite a surly manner, barreling through clouds of firelizards and unsuspecting drudges who happened to be crossing the bowl. He sent them scattering in a chaotic din of chirps and screams and this of course brought the draconic smile to his face. Of course, finesse had never been his strong point but he sure as hell made up for it in brutality and raw muscle.

Hello, Fedorath. Might I say that you are looking lovely today? He cooed this at his sister, no other emotions behind the statement but those of pride and sibling affection.

Folkvarth almost immediately upon his arrival joined his sister under the tree with a plop of his bulk that would have sent any of the firelizards that had settled in the canopy from his earlier antics up in another cloud of confusion. Rukbat was no good for his translucent skin, and the little time he had been in the sun earlier in the morning had him hissing and demanding for Jeri to rub lotion on his back. And speaking of her, where was she? After nuzzling his fellow Mimic with his great horned head, the thick emerald muscles in his neck contracted brilliantly under the tough exterior as he looked behind him, snorting up a disapproving storm as he searched for her.

"I'm coming Folkvarth, hold your wherries. By the Egg, are you impatient!" The last came out as a wheezing laugh from the weyrling as she had been running in a futile attempt to catch the blaring and out of control train that was her dragon.

A hiss was given at the sound of her laughter that escalated into a snarl as she placed a hand on his hide. He did not like any form of affection from anyone outside the circle of his siblings and the fact that His was so keen on it made his skin crawl. Had his eyes the ability to change they would have whirled rainbow with a pronounced red, but they remained frozen in an eerie shade of ironic green.

I do not want to deal with your antics today Jeri, so please stop touching me before I remove your hand from your arm. Now, go do something else. A growl and the baring of cone-like teeth was given as she just smirked at him and continued to scratch his shoulder more, not heeding his warning. Ah, go be good like Fedorath's own and go swimming or something.

"Fine I will, you stupid lizard!" Laughing as she jumped over a whiplash that could have easily broken a leg, she began to strip her clothes as well until she was wearing only the basics. So, it was time to go swimming, huh? She shaded her eyes to judge the time, and presumed the water was still quite freezing. No matter, such a trifle fact would not stop her!

"Helloooooo M’yran!" It was like a battle cry for war as she ran towards the outcroppings and practically cannon-balled next to her fellow mimicrider. Splashing him with her hands as she came up to the surface, she laughed giddily. "So who's that over there, do ya know?"

[Onyxaeon]

Have faith, His had said shortly after the WeyrlingMaster had forbidden him training with his fellow weyrlings. Yes, D'nasrin and his Brown Masionath had considered him a threat to the well-being of the other weyrlings and their dragons, and his actions done only in protection of His were to be punished with separate training. Much as his brother and sister were about to find out, for they too had been sentenced to his fate; the Weyrlingmasters trusted not the "sports" dragons, even if they had given him no reason to bane them from sessions with the others. No, now they must wander the Weyr at night and slumber during the day to keep the pitiful weaklings 'safe' and to 'prevent conflict'. A death was not so much his concern; dragons mauled when hatching, and that was a fact of life that many Weyrs were well acquainted with. Talune should be no different but such was not the case as the dragons of this southern Weyr were not violent by nature; rare maulings and no recorded deaths since the Eclipse. Fremonth's actions would have been accepted in any other Weyr, but here he was to be punished. No matter. It was always easier to prove your true value when no soul saw you for the surrounding shadows. The night was to be their domain, and that was...tolerable. He had fabricated some excuse of protecting the...copy felines', as they had not been given a new classification name yet, delicate hides from Rukbat when, truthfully, he wanted them gone. At least at night, most of the Weyr would never see them. The Weyr would never know until it was too late that a Shield, Sword, and Mirror stood in their presence. Pity, the fools.

I won't show mercy. Fremonth declared, his ebony eyes pivoting in their sockets to turn to His. They do not understand, and for that I am shamed and sentenced to skulk about the Weyr in the middle of the night as a lowly tunnel snake. I am no such thing and by birth I deserve more, just as my siblings do. You will see in time, Mine, what we are capable of. Whether the Weyr will know or not, their judgment day is coming. And I fully intend to be judge, jury, and executioner. The Mimic lifted his wings, fanning them ever so slightly as to dry the salve that was meant to guard his body from the light. Indeed, he had been away from Fedorath and Folkvarth for longer than should have been acceptable, and upon seeing his emerald toned brother and his easily excitable female of a rider heading for the lake, his immediate departure was made clear. R'taik had known this, had all but expected it for in the short time he had been bonded with Fremonth, he had known things would be changed, righted. Corrected, the term Fremonth uttered most. The Weyrs were in the wrong, and he would brutally and tactlessly say it were so, as would Fedorath and Folkvarth. How he knew of the sterilized queens, the Black Sands raid done by Skrull, and the effects had on these old Weyrs was a curiosity to the weyrling. Because of his overbearingly possessive nature, Fremonth never left him alone; there was no time when the dragon could have slipped away to find this information, let alone any but the Weyrleaders and, maybe, new Onyx king Alamayanth and his to-be queen Gold sister. But considering the insult laid heavily upon the Onyx...he was not likely to have told Fremonth anything and the Gold, well, she was far too interested in her own preening to be of any help.

"As you wish. I only hope you to be less cryptic so that I may understand you better. I can't...approve of what you did. I resent your actions on that day, and you know it." A rumble of amusement poured from Fremonth's maw as he tucked his wings back against himself, his tail curling possessively around the legs of the lad. You simply do not have to approve of what I do or do not do. My actions are done to keep you alive and nothing more. If you are threatened, I will react; it is as simple as Rukbat will rise. As for my words...In time. In time, you just as Folkvarth's and Fedorath's shall see. You are too young yet to know all we stand to rectify. The Mimic wandered out from the Lower Caverns entrance, hissing instantly as the sun struck his hide to relax only a minute later. The balm worked to prevent him from burning, but the sensation of intense heat never did quite falter, and it always made his ebony pinions twitch in disdain. Fedorath. Folkvarth, we must talk. The Mimic hustled across the Bowl, the length of his onyx banded
tail swaying back and forth as he bounded toward the tree where his siblings had taken shelter. It is underway. We have been banished to training by moonlight for my slaughter of the fool on the sands.

It's over now. What have you done?[/center][/size]

[DaeSiggil]

He didn't look toward the other person for a while, his attention still focused on his hands. He however slowly looked up and nodded his head to show that he had heard and acknowledged it "R'rovin." He finally offered; head moving away again, eyes landing on the water again and squinting when light shone in them. He hated that he was almost caught crying, never had it happened and that it almost should happen today by this... individual, R'rovin wasn't very amused to say the least.

Wineryth saw quicker than the others what was happening to the tiny blue or what should happen, but he did not comment on it. He didn't really care for anything outside the little circle he had made of R'rovin and in a lesser degree the small ball of fur that had to be somewhere. His head moved and caught sight of the fur ball dumping itself into the stranger's lap. The Crimson noticed that the hand moved and scratched the tiny thing and felt all the more that his back was empty from that tiny presence.

Slowly moving as the kitten was dumped on the sands again, he allowed it to hop on his shoulders again and settle down comfortable. He swiveled his head around and briefly nudged the tiny ball and then returned attention to His and the other two. He still didn't really thrust them, although the human part of the two seemed to be somewhat okay at last.

The young man looked up at the shriek, the cat's fur raising on its back as it lowered itself on the Crimson's back and hissed softly, not sounding very impressive as said dragon's head followed R'rovin's gaze towards the source of the disturbance. R'rovin raised an eyebrow and snorted "What indeed." He commented, brushing at his pant legs and then placing both appendages into the sand and letting water splash over them. He closed his eyes for a moment, actually not minding the company, at least that mouth remained shut.

Nevermind, those lips parted and sound escaped M'yran. He shrugged his shoulders, he didn't care "Go ahead, I won't stop you." He replied, ignoring the comment that his companionship wasn't exactly the brightest to be around. What did he expect? That he would laugh and be cheery all the time? He never let such emotions rule him, not often at least. He only allowed it when something went good for his plans, according to where he wanted them to go.

Ignoring it carefully when the other undressed and then splashed into the water. He finally found that the other youth was looking at him and his shoulders tensed. Did he expect that he would change his mind and join him in the water? He still hadn't a clue what the Crimson -now behind him- had planned.

The pair tensed when another pair joined them, although when the human part joined the one in the water already the Crimson relaxed. Not that his did, he would have grinned if he could. He instead crouched lightly, then straightened quickly, nose touching R'rovin's back and making him sprawl out in the water.

Disgruntled youth quickly sat up and glowered toward Wineryth who looked rather proud of himself now. He then gave up and pulled out his own shirt, displaying pale skin and some scars that could come from anything but was gained through abuse. He threw it on the Crimson so that it would keep from keeping wet and so it would dry quicker by the sun shining down and the dragon's heat.

R'rovin didn't know what to do now though, the pants had quickly joined the shirt and left him in nothing but what he had carried underneath. He shivered as well and moved to the deeper part of the water, not comfortable that they saw him like this. One of the reasons that he had moved deeper, instead of going back on shore and letting himself and the clothes dry. He once more looked at the smug crimson You'll pay. He grumbled, actually not sounding very angry.

~Will I?~ The Crimson remarked, keeping snickering softly as he saw his partner shake his head lightly in desperation.

[pandoraMisfit]

M’yran soon tired of waiting on R’rovin, especially since his attention was automatically drawn to the jumble of energy that was Jeri, almost as soon as she came within hearing range. Usually, he could quite enjoy her bubbly personality. The only problem now was that it came with a brash opposite in tow. Folkvarth, he already knew, would be the point of their little ‘triangle ‘ that he would push away from the most – such raw aggression did not sit easily with the lad. It was like a breath of fresh air when the green tinged monster went to sit with Fedorath, who seemed nonplussed with her brother’s attitude. Waving over at Jeri when she greeted him, he soon had to duck for cover – before he’d even had the chance to invite her into the water, she’d taken a flying leap and landed almost scarily closely. Splashing her back was the only reaction he knew, especially as she needed paying back double time at this point.

Fedorath cast a cursory glance towards the water when the commotion started. A sharp snort left her nostrils. Such childishness. And it was childishness she now chose to ignore, rising to greet her brother and to brush her head against his. Brother, you look well also, despite all the gunk. How is it for you? Her tone was not derogatory, merely conversational. She was beginning, even in the shade, to wish she had not foregone the slathering – the sun was starting to make her itch and burn slightly. However, it wasn’t bad enough yet that she would get up off her rump and ask Hers to put it on now.

Another splash caught her attention and she noted that the Crimson had followed through with the plan. M’yran’s attention was also caught, as he was within splashing proximity. He backed up a little to give the boy some space, stifling giggles all the while. When the top was removed, a saucy thought entered his head and an appreciative smile lit his face. He winked at R’rovin, before continuing to splash Jeri. Peals of laughter left his lips. It had been a while since he had had a good day like this, and he was indulging in the fact that he had, in his estimation, some fairly good company. “Hey Jeri, whaddya think of our R’rovin here? Seems like he could use some lightening up.” His voice was full of his laughter, as were his strange eyes. Splashing some water and the weyrling who was now retreating to deeper waters, he hoped that his new acquaintance wouldn’t take his jest too seriously. After all, the last the thing the guy needed was to be more serious. M’yran trod water where he was, planning his next splash whilst R’taik and the largest of the three Mimic siblings approached from the lower caverns; though the advance was lost on him. He was dead set on getting R’rovin to join in his game.

The female dragonet however, had immediately picked up on the fact that Fremonth was joining them. If she had been a cat, her fur would have stood up on end as she caught the edge of his current mood. Her head swivelled towards her largest brother, dipping it in way of greeting. Almost as soon as the words hit her consciousness, she hissed, rose up to her feet and flared her wings in anger. How dare they? Do they think we are some obscenity to be hidden away from the sight of others? Like some shameful creatures that must be kept in the darkness, away from all knowledge of the world. More fool them! They do not realise what they have in their midst, obviously. Her seething got the better of her as she snarled aloud, indignation flaring through her whole being. Her muscles rippled under her skin as they tensed and untensed as she shook with her fury. And what of ours? They must keep to nightly hours also? Look at Mine, though acting like an imbecile right at this moment in time, he so revels in the daylight hours - I will not tolerate him being suppressed because our ’superiors’ deign us dangerous to those around. They cannot see that you only acted accordingly. FOOLS! Regaining her composure took a little while, full of growling and clawing at the sand beneath her feet. She paced a few steps, wincing as a wingtip escaped the shelter of the tree’s shadow to be bathed in the southern sun. She paced back to her resting spot as she tried to calm herself. Who ordered this? Are they so scared for their safety that they have not even considered the well being of our own? Humans live a life in the sun. Being condemned to live only in the dark hours of the day is a cruelty I will not accept as fate for M’yran. Fedorath settled back down into her patch of shade as best she could, blinking once at her brother. Her ire was still up, but wasting energy on needless action was infinitely pointless. She let the silence that followed her tirade bear the weight of her fury.

[Onyxaeon]

R'taik wandered closer to the lake's cooling waters-to M'yran and Jeri as Fremonth would take it. The new weyrling had not had much time to get acquainted to the other two riders before their dragons had thrusted Theirs on to one another. It was eerie how closely knitted the three were, how they clambered to be beside of the other two when separated almost as if it were a physical need. At any given moment they would be around one another if at all possible. Even the ill-tempered Folkvarth preferred to be alongside his brother and sister than alone and around the "inferior" weyrlings such as the Crimson male splashing around currently. Or, at least that was how Fremonth had given reason for him to believe. The lad kicked a small stone into the shallows creating tiny ripples that soon lost his interest. Shoving his hands into his breeches pockets, he gazed out over Lake Rhaser to the sunbathing flits. They would be able to enjoy the sunlight he no longer could.

Patience, MineOwn. They will soon see we belong. Why don't you occupy yourself with the notion of out...suits? Perhaps Folkvarth's and Fedorath's would appreciate knowing you have intentions to cover their dragon's hides to prevent them being bathed in lotions before every excursion.
As you wish, Fremonth. The lad called for M'yran and Jeri, removing his hands from their pockets and beginning to walk in their direction. Before he could get farther, he caught his Onyx clone's stoic, ebony eye from beneath the tree.
I want you to burn. To steal and bleed and understand this is how I feel. All of this, I do for you.
R'taik closed his eyes as a slow controlled sigh pursed through his lips. I can't give you what you need yet. I can't hate you anymore for the things you've done. So blindly, I will follow. I don't believe you shall allow for anything else. Perhaps this is where we and your siblings and their riders will differ from the Weyr; we will dive without wings because you bespoke us to. Perhaps will shall slowly lose our minds and you will control every action as you alway intended. As you wish, Fremonth. Always as you wish. He turned to see Jeri bounding across the shore and quickly gathered his thoughts to explain how they could best protect their dragons from Rukbat. "I've been thinking about a solution instead of rubbing salve on Fedorath or Folkvarth every time they step out into the light. If he hasn't told you already, Folkvarth, Fremonth, and Fedorath have been exiled to train only during the night hours by the WeyrlingMaster's orders. He claims it's to protect their skins and other weyrlings from their...tendencies. With what I've been thinking, it would take one excuse out of the way and maybe we could train with the others during the daylight. The same material used for equine saddles can be thinned, almost like a second skin. Do you understand? We could form a very lightweight cloak of sorts for our...mimics. Their wings would still need to be rubbed down, but that's far less time consuming than the whole dragon for every excursion outside. We could even cut out parts of the covering for the skin that has color so that it does not fade out or grow sickly cast. I could work on it if you both would agree; I know a few tanners who would love the challenge of making a dragon mask."

Fremonth flicked his tail, half-heartedly dismissing the matter. Calm your ire, my sister. For now, there is nothing quite to be done on the matter. The WeyrlingMaster believes we are a threat and so we shall be trained at night by his understudy. I due time he will comprehend his mistakes. For now, plot his demise in secret and understand we cannot rebuild a Weyr without first gathering our own claws. If we must learn in the darkness whilst every ounce of competition slumbers, so be it. Fremonth permitted one wing to stretch outward to cover his sister. He, having the benefit of a balm covering his sensitive wing membranes, only felt intensely hot beneath Rukbat's rays but was not as of yet burning. She did not and thus it was within his own best interest to cover her for the wellbeing of the three. MineOwn was correct in stating we are stronger than they do believe us. Far more so than their rising Onyx star and the Gold gem for ours will soon do without question. Theirs will argue whilst ours shall obey. What better a reason to be heard than dire devotion?

[Lauri]

Rukbat? Brutal as ever, for the lotion does little to stall it. Life? I do not know. A knowing glance was thrown in the direction of their incoming sibling, the great horned head twisting in its pivot as a sign of a warm welcome (though whatever biologically activates his agitation was definitely tingling). Though I have a feeling Fremonth would be able to answer.

Jeri wiggled her eyebrows suggestively at M'yran's attire (or lack thereof) and returned the barrage of splashing in full force. It was nice to be able to get away from the hateful glances and stares of the other weyrling who loathed what they did not understand, even if it was for a little while. She had grown close to her fellow mimicriders out of a common link they shared, other than the color of the dragons they rode. Her giggles turned into full-blown laughs as she really enjoyed the first afternoon off in a long while.

"I think he needs to loosen up a bit, to seize the day!" A wolfish grin colored her features as she unabashedly gave him a once-over, looking at him not unlike he was a very good slab of steak. This was followed by more playful splashing as she would dart underwater to avoid his if he had decided to return fire.

She surfaced just in time to see and hear R'taik trying to get their attention with talk of some armor the tanners would make. It was a good idea, but did they have enough hide for such an undertaking? The color was new and their growth relatively unpredictable, so maybe it would be better to think of this in the future? "It sounds like a good idea, but I don't know how Folkvarth's gonna take it. He's just a teensy-weensy little itty bit proud, so he might not take to hiding his.. well, hide. Even if it is the best for him. I mean," she unknowingly indicated in his direction, looking over at the fuming lizard, "He can get a little hard to convince."

True to his nature, the war drum began to beat loudly in his chest as it threatened to erupt from the cavity that held it with its raw intensity. So this is how it was, was it? He was a hissing and spitting out of control machine, the once flaccid joints holding the levers together creaking and moaning in protest as he began to destroy the object closest to him.

His siblings were speaking, and he was not one for pleasantries when his skin crawled like it was on fucking fire.

Eyes twirled in an ironic ballet of perpetual emerald, nostrils flaring wildly as his claws went to work on destroying the floor of the Weyrbowl. He still had enough sense in the mind clouded with pulses of visible blood lust to not raze their only source of shade, but he shivered as the ground peeled in ribbons between his talons. It'd be no use to stop him, for this... this is the kind of domesticated monster the society at the Weyr had been working to put on a short leash. But he had never been closer to breaking free from the network of thin, silver threads they had tried to use to lobotomize him with, and he craved to indulge in what his mind made his body oh so desperately yearn for.

He could nearly taste the Achilles' heel in the bonds holding him back. All it took was a little... more... stretching....

And with a loud noise that was something akin to a wild draconic cackle, he'd proudly flare his wings and announce his sadism to the skies.

Oh, how I anticipate the promise of bloodshed!

Let the birth of their Ragnarok commence.

[pandoraMisfit]

Dodging the incoming wave of water from Jeri’s hands proved somewhat impossible, and so M’yran quickly became soaked through. Not that he minded, like his previous thought, it felt extremely good to loosen up. A raised eyebrow was his response to the exotic girl’s once-over. It wasn’t that he minded, and she certainly was a pretty looking thing in her own strange way, but he just didn’t find her attractive in the way that her suggestive look had implied. Still, it didn’t stop him from following up with an equally smouldering glance her way. Flirt. Well, that’s just how he was today. Splashing her back soon proved fruitless as the girl was quicker than a fish, diving under the cool glassy water of the lake to avoiding the incoming attack. The lad looked over to R’rovin, and smiled dazzlingly. There, he surmised, would be a tough one to crack. But yes, the challenge was almost a more enticing for that.

It was only when R’taik spoke that he realised that they had yet more company – and he almost jumped out of his skin at the sound. Quick to recover, he plastered a winning smile on his face, teeth glinting in the sunlight. Yep, that would make the three of them now. Drawn to each other like magnets. Listening to the idea, he mulled it over for a while, letting Jeri voice her opinion first. A second skin? No doubt Fedorath would be amenable, if only to escape the slathering she detested so much. He asked her silently, to be ignored. No doubt she had more important things to be thinking of with her brothers present.

Only then did he catch a wave of her anger, roiling from her mind like a tempest about the strike. Unknowingly he flinched back a little. “What on Pern? Something tells me that the conversation over there isn’t going in a particularly loving direction,” the red-head said, whilst nodding to the Mimic’s to indicate what he meant. And as if to clarify his statement, Folkvarth began tearing at the ground with a ferocity that startled him. Once again, he was thankful he was bonded to his own Fedorath and not that green tainted monster. He let a shudder quickly run over his frame before turning to his fellow weyrlings.

“I believe that would work… if I could explain it to her when she doesn’t seem quite so… agitated. Faranth knows that she hates me even opening the pot of lotion in her presence. Says that it offends her nose. “ The last quip was certainly a dig at the dragon who now consumed his every moment. But then, his brain clicked into gear and realised why the idea had come about. Exile? M’yran swore under his breath, now knowing what had gotten the trio so riled up. “So, they banish us hey? What about us sun-loving folk? Meh. I suppose with the mask idea at least we can try to persuade the weyrling master that we shouldn’t suffer a night-time existence. Shard it, but it just wouldn’t be fair!” Now his lower lip was pouting out, brows knitted in the beginning of a sulk. Well that had just darkened his day. In a mood, his features took on a much more effeminate look. Not that he realised, and as he thought it over, he pouted even more. The idea of romancing R’rovin had left his mind, now churning over the new revelation.

Fedorath, in the meantime, shuffled closer to her brother, to nuzzle into his side and the protection of the canopy he provided. She was still seething, but was already wise enough to know that nought was to be done as of yet. Fremonth was correct. Let them bide their time and strike at the right moment! But apparently, Folkvarth had not seen the wisdom of waiting. His rage bubbled over and spread like infection, touching the edge of her senses with an almost delicious aftertaste. The more worked up he became, the more his feelings were palpable. Especially when he displayed them so physically.

Crawling from the shelter of an ebony lazed wing, she put her muzzle on her brother’s throat as he reared up. Yes my dear brother. But it shall wait. They fear us enough as it is, and of course, why should they not? But as Fremonth says, is it not better to play the game for now? To insinuate ourselves into their society a little more smoothly, allowing us to take their full measure. We must bide our time, despite the urge to demand action now. I know the feeling myself. And here she bristled visibly, starting with her neck and following all the way down to her tail. Her jaw vibrated softly against the emerald Mimic’s throat. But let us wait a while, and then when the time is right and those proud fools have lost their way, let us then strike! And it shall be delectable my dear brother, to see them cast so low. Her own rage seeped into that final sentence, the pronunciation fairly quivering with anticipation.

But the sun began its intolerable scorch upon her back, and uncharacteristically, she let out a whimper at the pain beginning to build. She backed away from one brother, to seek shelter in the shade of the other. She hissed with anxiety, cursing rukbat itself for her discomfort. If she could, she would travel the miles to tear it apart with her own claws, but for that fact such an exercise would be futile. Instead, she contented herself with grumbling, shooting Hers looks of malice all the while. He would have brought the gunk with him, but her pride would not suffer the coating. And she supposed it would only be a matter of time before his fogged brain would realise and try to come to follow the action through. Settling her head on her fore claws she quieted, for the shadow she occupied was beginning to afford her some relief. We will do what we must, when the time comes. For now, brother, you are right. Let us study under the cover of nightfall, learn what we can and put it to our best advantage.