United we stand|Open

[Lyrikitty]

I will not simply stand by!Do you hear me? We could act! We could strike them where it will hurt the most! The metallic head of the Wildfire snaked, dangerously, her jaws parted in agitation as she paced back and forth, up and down a stretch of beach. Beneath her paws the black sand churned, all six of her wings mantled as if ready to vanish in the blink of an eye. Sitting near the water's edge, her toes kissed by the end of the tide, was Miaxhote, leaning back on her arms and ignoring the pacing figure behind her.

She knew that Vesaleth wanted to do something, knew the Wildfire yearned to make some move and gain more power for herself. But the timing seemed wrong. Mia was about to sigh in frustration, to remind the Wildfire that they were not alone, when the implecations of those last words struck home. She froze, her very heart seeming to stop beating. Strike where it would hurt the most... Slowly, she turned her torso, looking at Vesaleth, her eyes a soft shade of green, flecked with a light, golden brown. "Ves... Say that again. Slower. For everyone to hear."

Vesaleth scowled, finally managing to stand still and stare at Mia ruefully. Fine. I said, we should strike them where it will hurt the most. Anything else you want MiaMine? Apparently, while Vesaleth had a rough idea of what she meant, she was off a bit. The Wildfire was refering to eggs, to the clutches. It had been done before, with failure, many, many, many turns ago. But those old beasts had been fools, not near the wonderous beings that the dragons of Black Sands Weyr were.

Mia had a different idea, a better idea. A slow smile spread over her lips as she stood, brushing off the sand from her legs and turning to face those present. Her gaze drifted over an Illusion, the Amder Xanturnoth, three Miseries that had all gathered, two nearly worshiping the very ground Vesaleth walked on, the Browns and Greens, and the single Blue. Yes... "Vesaleth is right. We should strike-"

"Where? What do you think that dragon of your's could come up with that Xanturnoth hasn't considered before?" D'myn prowled foward, stepping awai from the leg of the Amber and into sight of all. All sound died immedietly, breathing hushed to the barest whisper of sound, and the most noise came from the ocea, the unstoppable force that even D'myn's strange aura couldn't tame. His pale, chilling eyes shifted over the crowd gathered, disappointed partially. He had hoped that some good would come of this, that someone would provide some thought they could use. So far naught but useless squabbling between the Wildfire and the rest. The Weyrleader grew sick of it, was ready to simply call it all off and leave. But... He had to admit, despite his cold, stiffling words, he was curious. Xanturnoth had thought of many things before, many were excused as useless, the rest had already been used, put to action as soon as it was possible.

Mia scowled and glared at her Weyrleader, though she said nothing for a long while. Like so many, she was cowed by the feeling the hovered in the air around the man, silenced by the dangerous feeling he gave off in papable waves. Vesaleth would have spoken, though she knew her idea was not the one Mia had in mind. Ity seemed a lifetime before finally Mia could force herself to speak. "I said Vesaleth had the right idea. However, she is off track." The woman, so easy to forget with her features, her ever so slightly short height, set her jaw stubbornly, determined that she would not let herself be ruled by a feeling, that she would not be silenced by a look.

D'myn kept his gaze on the Wildfirerider, and slowly walked over to her, moving with a deceptive slowness to his step, at the same time that Xanturnoth moved with shocking silence around the back of the crowd gathered to tower behind Vesaleth, his gaze settled on the beck of her neck, just below the skull, his jaws parted slightly in anticipation. "Is that so?" It seemed impossible that the Weyrleader had made his way to stand right in front of Mia, smiling down at her with a gleam to his eyes that sent a shudder down the woman's spine. "Tell us then, what is the right iea?"

Miaxhote glanced about, searching for something to help her, something to get her out of the mess she was in, only to spy Xanturnoth behind her precious Wildfire. The Amberrider and that beast meant their death... Her gaze swung back to meet D'myn's own icy pools, and though they reflected her fear, she managed not to tremble, managed to remain still. "The queens." Her voice was a whisper, barely audible to even the man who stood over her, a great beast ready to pounce on it's helpless prey.

Xanurnoth backed away, staring at Mia with a look similar to awe in his eyes. He understood, before any of the others, before even the Wildfire who's mind was linked to Mia's, what was meant. Delighted, he smiled, rumbling, and frightening Vesaleth, who hadn't noticed him behind her. A blur of reds, oranges, and yellows flashed into the sky, her wings working swiftly to pull her to safety too late, as she realized that the time of danger was passed before she'd known it there. Silently the somewhat embarassed Wildfire settled back down, standing in the shallow water now, where it was harder for anyone to sneak up on her.

D'myn's eyes lit up, for as Xanturnoth realized what Mia meant, he relayed it to the Weyrleader. Lifting a hand, he patted Mia's cheek, like one would praise a small child for a job well done, and turned to the rest gathered, his face a terrible sight to behold, for the malicious joy tht swept over his features was undoubtably a sign of evil comming. Of a fate far worse than death for their enemies. Of a crime as of yet unheard of, unthought of. "Friends, it seems that indeed, there is a road we have yet to travel. A road which will bring down the other Weyrs in a single blow. We are lucky, to have riders and dragons like the pair behind me, for unlike you they are useful." He let his eyes travel over each and every being present, dragon and rider alike, watching all cringe beneath it. It was good to be on top, so very good. He knew not that even were he a rank-and-file rider most would cringe under a gaze such as his, that most would cower at his wrath. All he knew was that right now, he and Xanturnoth were unstoppable.

The Amber let his own gaze shift to the dragons, especially the Miseries. They would be very important soon, they would be needed greatly, but most of all, they would need the oldest Misery, who was currently sleeping on the ledge of her weyr. so few had the power that would be needed, the power to alter the mind of a queen, to make that queen act in a manner so unlike her, so unnatural. His metallic hide flashed as his muscles rippled beneath it, and he moved again, this time taking Vesaleth's forming activity of pacing up and down the beach, his mind coiling around this idea, twisting and turning it to see just how to make it right, to make it work.



Word Count: 1348
Character: Mia of Vesaleth, D'myn of Xanturnoth
Notes: No one has to reply, I just wanted to make this thread so that my comming plot idea would have a source.

[Desert]

Nazareth had convinced D'zel to attend the meeting, wary of her amber Weyrleader and the cunning wildfire. Both of them were staunchly opposed to stirring up more trouble, so Naz wanted to keep an eye on the authors of the trouble. Know thine enemies, as the saying went.

Nazareth's powerful mind heard the wildfire's thoughts, and revulsion made the tiny dragon mantle her wings. D'zel stroked the metallic white hide soothingly, trying to calm his beloved. They were the only miserypair present that wasn't under Vesaleth's spell, so were the only ones that seemed to see sense. The others were wary of Xanturnoth's massive bulk; neither D'zel nor Naz could deny that the Weyrleader and his dragon were intimidating and frightening, but they refused to be manipulated or cowed by bullies and braggarts.

Nazareth tensed when Xanturnoth's gaze raked over her. She had been keeping close tabs on what the big amber saw, and was immediately on guard when he stared at the trio if tiny white dragons gathered. Her whiskers bristled indignantly and her wings mantled, their absurd length looking clumsy and completely non-threatening as they cupped around her serpentine body. I will have nothing to do with this![/b][/color] she declared fervently, her maw parting in a hiss. You may control these other poor fools with words, but I for one refuse to give our Weyr such a bad name! All of you are naught but monsters. Dragons are supposed to be Pern's saviors, not their bane![/b][/color]

D'zel splayed one of his hands on the smooth space on Naz's head where her eyes would be. Hush, love, don't make him angry, he cautioned, watching D'myn and the amber warily. He backed his dragon up in her assertion, but he wished she would make her defiance the silent kind, and not claim for all to hear that she would disobey her Weyrleader. For the little misery had projected her short, passionate speech into the minds of every dragon and rider on the beach.

Nazareth's bifurcated tail wrapped soothingly around her rider's ankle. He can get as angry as he pleases, but that won't stop me. He's big, but I can strike him down. That wildfire, too. I've got enough practice to make something his size hurt all over, and hurt bad,[/b][/color] she told Hers quietly, only letting D'zel hear. The young misery had been practicing frequently on any living thing she could bear to subject to her devastating talent -- mostly herdbeasts -- and was quite skilled for a dragon her age.[/size][/color][/font]

[Lyrikitty]

Xanturnoth swung his head about, the corners of his maw pulled into what might seem a benevolent smile. Ah, so the little Misery who was not taken with Vesaleth was here, the one who would be among the more difficult to gain any amount of control over. A low rumbled started deep in his chest, a gravely sound that seemed to shake the very ground as it resonated through his curling horns. He seemed entirely amused by it, outwardly, but just under the surface he was ready to break into a rage. Why had this foolish creature come? Didn't she know how dangerous it was, to try and parade about before a creature such as himself, to insult him?

He brisled at it, inwardly, and managed to keep his exterior relatively calm, save for the faint tinge of red that seeped into the spectrum of his eyes. Is that so, Little Nazareth? You, but a Weyrling, think you have the right to come and join our circle as we think, and then say that you refuse? His voice was silken, smooth, buttery. It was the voice he used when he was dangerous, when he was considering tossing aside the facade of civility and simply slaughtering anything in sight he could. I'll take no isult from the snide comment of my being a... Monster, he rolled the word through his mind as he said it, his voice almost savoring it, for am I not? But in my Weyr, none disobey. His tail twitched, the metallic length seeming to take on life, as he stared at the Misery, contemplating. Her kind was too useful, the Miseries, and to outright kill her was wasteful. She was young, but he never missed anything that happened in his Weyr or on the island, and had seen her practicing with herdbeasts. He was larger and older, but he knew already the pain a Misery coul inflict, knew what they could do even at a young age.

D'myn seemed to have ideas of his own, and was toying with his belt-knife, for it had found it's way to his hands, the blade glinting as light bounced off it. His gaze was on the knife, and by every appearance he was ignoring Xanturnoth and the Miserypair. But like an animal, feral, unpredictable, he was preparing, slowly muscles tensed, slowly his body inched into a crouch, his arm drawing back. He didn't have to kill anyone, but he could startle them, shake them badly. With a graceful sweep of his arm the belt-knife was gone, arrowing through the air to bury itsef in the sand not even an inch from the foot of D'zel. D'myn's cold eyes lifted, looking at the young man with warning in them. That shot had not missed at all, and next time, the target wouldn't be the sand.

Xanturnoth scowled at His for a moment, tempted to scold him noisily, but decided that no, perhaps that had been a good idea. Yes, Reminding those whose ego swelled enough for them to think they could oppose their leadership what would happen worked, and even if the Miserypair din't take the hint, it wasn't lost on most of the rest gathered.


Vesaleth had bristled as well when the Misery openly declared them monsters, declared they were meant to be Pern's saviors. Ha! What a riot, what a laugh. No, that had been the past, but now Pern was meant to fall to her knees before those who deserved to rule, bow her head to crown the dragons and riders of Black Sands Weyr kings and queens all. That little fool obviously didn't understand things clearly. No bad name was trying to be earned, in fact, they were trying to make a better name for themselves.

Hissing, she forced herself to settle, watching as Mia waded to her side and placed a hand gently on the firey hide of her shoulder. Silently the pair conversed trought he whole exchange of Xanturnoth's, not noticing it at all, and only dimly were they aware of D'myn's belt-knife flashing through the air. There were more important matters to attend to, now that Mia had the idea, she was working out the plan, hashing out the little dtails, for she'd seen the look in D'myn's eyes, had felt the approval and glee of Xanturnoth. A Misery was needed, at least one, and an old one at that. They could use the Miser to get into the minds of the queens of each Weyr, send the clutching fools to the firestone pits and... Yes, that would work perfectly. Of course mud would need to be made to darken the hide of the Misery, and th edull that of herself for she had every intent to go along as well. Both dragon and rider wore smiles that spoke volumes, and it was easy to see what they were doing, and doing well.


Word Count: 860
Character: D'myn of Xanturnoth; Mia of Vesaleth
Notes:

[Desert]

Nazareth's muzzle was pointed unerringly up at Xanturnoth's big, horned head as if she could actually stare the huge amber down, though her wingtips were trembling in trepidation. D'zel felt a pang of admiration for his gutsy little misery, who stood there defiant to the last against one of the biggest dragons on Pern, herself one of the tiniest. She drew herself up despite her fear-weakened limbs, her whiskers still bristled, fanning out from her snout comically. I would leave this horrible place to your ilk, sir, if I was able to,[/b][/color] Nazareth told the amber, even her mind-voice slightly shaky.

Both she and D'zel knew that no Weyr would accept a transfer out of Black Sands, especially a misery. Perhaps Eden would, but Eden was home to blacks and cyans, which were just as bad as the amber and his cronies. At least Eden didn't go about plotting the downfall of Pern! Besides, Naz and D'zel had a sneaking suspicion that D'myn wouldn't let a valuable asset like a misery transfer out of the Weyr, even if that misery was opposed to his schemes.

When the knife flashed from D'myn's hand and buried itself into the dark sand around D'zel's feet, Nazareth gave a brief, piercing shriek of alarm and outrage. One of her ungangly wings spread to knock D'zel backward as the little misery stepped between Hers and the amberpair, hissing defiance at the Weyrleader. She sent a jolt of pain through the amberrider's hand and wrist -- not much, nothing incapacitating, but enough to warn. Leave Mine out of this![/b][/color] she cried. Your quarrel is with me, sir.[/b][/color]

D'zel gripped the bony wingfingers and folded Nazareth's wing back against her side, murmuring soothingly to his dragon, though to no avail. Nazareth's ire was roused now, rare though it was, and the spunky misery wasn't about to back down. It was times like these when D'zel wished she wasn't so stubborn. [/size][/color][/font]

[Lyrikitty]

D'myn winced in pain, thankfully the little Misery hadn't unleashed a full jolt, but oddly chuckled as it faded away. "She's protective of you D'zel. I wonder if she can do so well at night when you sleep, or if another Misery were to distract her." It was no veiled threat, but a musing, aloud, as D'myn pondered it.

Xanturnoth hissed dangerously as His was shocked mildly, as pain swam over the man's wrist and hand, but it was only a small pain, and it was gone quickly. Of course, the Misery was not one who would enjoy hurting others. She would offer warning and such long before she was ready to try and unleash all her rage on anyone. His tail twitched, a bemused smirk replacing his former expression as he head the shake in Nazareth's voice. She put on a brave front, but was she really so sure of herself? No.

Perhaps they should transfer the Miserypair out. The amber pondered over this question, taknig to heart her first comment that she would leave if she could. No one had yet to force anyone else to stay, though few would leave for fear of causing the wrath of an amber to fall about their heads in a rain of pain. He rather liked that idea, let them go, let their power weaken, let the Misery know what it was to be blind, for as her power lessed it would become harder to see through the eyes of others. She would always be able to use her rider of course... Were she a vain creature he'd have found it amusing, or of a little importance, that also she would lose her metallic sheen in time, becomming a plain white beast. Bah! Hidious those creatures from other Weyrs, those mutants who could hardly fend for themselves. He may not have been bred of Black Sands, but there was no doubt he belonged there, just as much as any Wildfire. It was odd though, the Wildfires were the only native mutants of which the majority was the same, of which most of them were all alike, all wanting the same goal. Perhaps it was because if they all wanted the same goal, and they all worked for the same thing, they all would have a better chance of power in the end.

With a languid roll of his shoulders, Xanturnoth took another step closer tot he Miserypair. So you think you want out? His voice held the hint of laughter in it, almost mocking. Our quarrel is with anyone who endangers our cause, and anyone that can be used to harm those fools. But if you want out so very badly... If you think you want to be blind and weak, and lose the wonder of your hide, go. Find a Weyr that would take a miserable transfer from Black Sands, if you can. But, if that is your plan do not show your face in my Weyr again, starting now. You are not the only Misery, and there are plenty that are stronger. Xanturnoth meant every word he said on the matter, she could leave if she wanted to, but as soon as she was sure it was what she wanted, her face wuold be unwelcome in the Weyr, and he would set dragons no guard for her. If she appeared again in his Weyr, she would be attacked, and possibly killed. End of story so far as the Amber cared.


Word Count: 606
Character: Mia of Vesaleth; D'myn of Xanturnoth
Notes:

[Desert]

D'zel's grip on Nazareth's wings tightened when he listened to D'myn's idle speculation. He didn't put anything past the man -- he had proved himself just as sadistic and ruthless as his dragon. Truly, it was almost as if the pair had been bred to Black Sands, though ambers were native to New Cove.

As Xanturnoth offered to let them leave, relief almost made Nazareth collapse. But where to go? The other Northern Weyr, Crystal Cavern, had magmas who were reputed to be every bit as bad as ambers. The two Eastern Weyrs were out as well -- Eden was home to black and cyans, and rumor had it a transferred magma. Solainoti while not actively evil like the others still had its bitter, hard-hearted brimstones. New Cove was the Weyr that spawned ambers, so it was definitely out -- all it left was the relatively peaceful Talune. They had gotten news that some time ago Talune had accepted an emerald tranfer from Crystal Caverns, so perhaps there was hope there.

As soon as it can be arranged, we will be gone from here. We want to stay as little as you want us here. I do not care that I will lose the strength of my mind and the shine of my hide. I can always use D'zelMine for my eyes, and it will be a blessing to leave my power behind; I will not need it elsewhere.[/b][/color] Nazareth couldn't bring nherself to thank the huge amber for the chance to escape, but both she and D'zel were amazed that they were allowed to escape the horrid place to find a new home.

D'zel took that as his cue, and he swung himself onto Nazareth's back. The little misery had to run a few paces with her wings flapping comically before she could achieve liftoff, but as she labored higher into the air both their spirits lifted. They wouldn't let hope choke them yet, however; they hadn't yet seen if anyone would accept them. If they were barred entrance from Talune, perhaps Eden would be their only other option. Blacks and magmas were better than ambers and wildfires, at least! And if even Eden denied them... it didn't bear thinking about.[/size][/color][/font]