Date   
Re: One more duckling attn Cremsden Aryn

Cassandra Coogan
 



On Sunday, August 19, 2018, Laura Walker <shewhoguards@...> wrote:

After hearing that Roryn wasn’t injured, Aryn relaxed  “More likely a ‘I found somewhere without anyone to bother me to read and lost track of time’ hideaway.” Aryn clucked her fingers and gave a trilling whistle, her brown flit slinking off the wall and to her to settle around her throat. 
“Skiffy.” She rubbed the browns eye ridge. “Find Roryn.”
With a chore and a flick of his tail, the flutter was gone, popping back in to his pet after a moment, sending a strong image of a classroom? With a weyr ledge? 

“Surely things haven’t changed that much since I was an apprentice.” She muttered befor one hand went on her hip and she looked up at Cremsden. “This guy says she is in a room with tables, Klah and a weyr ledge that’s fenced. ” She sighed as the flit dove down her top and got comfortable. “You don’t have anywhere like that here, do you?”


"That's the apprentices' room." Cremsden frowned a little, but turned to lead the way. "Eleven turns old, you say? We've had a few new kids lately. I don't remember a blonde girl but I could be wrong."

“Honestly- she has a knack of hiding in the background. She- well- she fixated on things and for the last turn or so it’s been even more focussed on Healers.” Aryn’s jaw clenched right a moment “I don’t have an issue with Healers however. I just don’t want her used till there’s nothing left.” her voice was almost harsh, her own apprenticeship forefront in her mind. Skiffy gave a soft trill and Aryn stroked her hand over her shirt to sooth him. 
--

Blackadder: I mean, what about the people that do all the work?
Baldrick: The servants.
Blackadder: No, me; *I'm* the people who do all the work.

Re: I made this. Honest. (Attention: Cremsden, Tareg, D'ire)

Cassandra Coogan
 

Tareg eyed the healer warily. “It’s not ‘is fault” he told blurted before his mouth snapped shut and he stared mulishly at the ground. 

Ooc: um. Yeah. Oops. 


On Tuesday, August 21, 2018, Rabble Rabble <rabblerabble@...> wrote:
"I don't need a healer,  but the boy has sprained his ankle, and hasn't eaten properly in a while."
D'ire resisted the urge to roll his eyes at the healer. He might go out of his way to avoid healers when ever possible but really. 

Re: Queuing for Breakfast - Second Day of the #medhunt (ATTN: Anybody!) #medhunt

mglady3@...
 


"I know - I've been to them before. A couple times now. I even raised a paper hatchling, in one of my lessons. It's not that I'm afraid of getting hurt, it's really not that at all," he persisted, unsure how exactly to explain it. It was the loneliness, maybe. He wasn't sure. 
 
He trailed off to shuffle forward again, and this time he was at the front of the line, accepting a hot cup of klah and a bit of bread with a grateful nod. Then, stepping to the side, he focused on the bronze rider again, attentive and respectful.
 
"How was it for you? If I can ask."
_._,_._,

~~~~~~

The bronzerider fell silent for a moment, as if taking the time to sift through his memories. "Exciting. Terrifying." He replied at last. "It was our first hatching - my brother and I, that is - though we'd been at the Weyr for about a year at that point. Padakth was one of the first to hatching." A smile curved Kyn'dras's lips, small and yet intimate. "Knew that he was trouble the moment I laid eyes on him. And when he came towards me, I just... knew." 

He chuckled softly. "Not very eloquently, am I? I know, I know - as a former harper, I really should do better, but..." He shrugged. "It really is difficult to describe."  

Through the Waters (I'des, Neffeyn)

Mya L. R.
 

Neffeyn had the waterfall on his mind since the first time he'd brought Aryorath down to be bathed in the lake.  At the time he'd not brought his swimming gear.  This time, the second time he bathed her here at Arolos, he'd came dressed in his swim shorts and loose shirt.  Aryorath cast the waterfall a brief glance before dismissing it from her mind as nothing important...at least until after she'd been cleaned and oiled.

The green now sat, clean and alert, at the lake edge seeming on guard for...something.  Not even she knew what she was guarding against, but she liked being ready in case anything happened.  Especially when her rider was standing in the shallows, dressed for swimming and staring purposefully out toward the waterfall.  {{It's falling water that doesn't come from the sky.}}  She said in an unimpressed fashion since it wasn't something evil they'd need to do something about, however, Neffeyn meant to go check it out.

"Yes it is. Doesn't it look amazing even from this distance?"  Neffeyn gestured toward the waterfall and didn't notice that Aryorath shifted her head looking at something else close by.  "Just think about what it might look like from closer up, or what else we might find out there.  It could be really amazing.  So yes I am still going to swim out there!"


--
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Member Name: MyaL
Discord: Neffeyn#8723

Re: I made this. Honest. (Attention: Cremsden, Tareg, D'ire)

Rabble Rabble
 

"I don't need a healer,  but the boy has sprained his ankle, and hasn't eaten properly in a while."
D'ire resisted the urge to roll his eyes at the healer. He might go out of his way to avoid healers when ever possible but really. 

Re: I made this. Honest. (Attention: Cremsden, Tareg, D'ire)

Laura Walker
 



Tareg accepted it with a grateful smile, trying it out for a couple of steps and finding it much easier then hobbling along.
 
D'ire nodded at his new brat and headed for the other door. At least his wey had a good location.
 
Tareg followed after, one step behind and silently, staying to follow his- Sir to their destination.
 
D'ire took the easiest way to the Infirmary and entered, looking around for a Healer. 
 

"Injury?" And okay, maybe Cremsden was skipping to making assumptions but when someone entered leaning on a cane you didn't usually look for a broken wrist. "Can you--oh." He paused in what he was going to say, frowning a little at a second person with a cane. "You two together?" Or maybe there was just a strange epidemic of sprained ankles going on. 

--

Blackadder: I mean, what about the people that do all the work?
Baldrick: The servants.
Blackadder: No, me; *I'm* the people who do all the work.

Nothing to see here (Attention: Ikol, Dashenka) #medhunt #passionberries

Rabble Rabble
 

Ikol gave a brat that was eyeing the stew one of the bubbly pies instead and shooed them well away from the fun before another guard came to relieve him so he could eat. 
He grinned and helped himself to the stew, he'd heard good things about passionberries, and he was never one to deny himself when there was fun to be had.

Dashenka felt like her stomach was trying to eat itself. She dusted her hands off before approaching the scent of tee, mouth watering. “Please, for the love of shiny little eggs, let there be some left.” Her tongue darted out to whet her lip as she looked at the guard beside the pot.

Ikol looked over the pretty girl.
"Yes, they did a big batch of stew this time. The pies are for the littles though."
He smiled at her. 
"I'm Ikol," he said, with a wink.

Dashenka smiled back, ducking down to inhale the smell of the stew, unintentionally leaving her blouse to gape. “Dashenka” she answered, reaching for a bowl to fill. “ Don’t get me wrong, it’s nice to get away from the Weyr and study- I just tend to forget it’s so sharding hot in the sun.

Ikol shifted his eyes quickly. 
"I know what you mean. The one thing I miss about Fort is the climate." 
He said, intently staring at a nearby tree.

“I grew up at Ista” Dashenka admitted. “It was a huge change coming South” she blew on her spoon before taking a mouthful. “Hmmm” she gave a grin “they did make a good stew.” She wrinkled her nose. “I only wish I didn’t burn so easily. Now that my part of the work is done I would love to change into something cooler. “

"I'm happy to help if you need any assistance." Ikol said, before tilting his head towards another guard out of earshot. 
"I've been relieved, and wouldn't mind some mutual relief."

Dashenka gave a slow blink. “No promises.” She informed him, looking at her bowl longingly. “Just so long as I can eat. I kind of skipped last meal.”  She looked at him with a half smile. While she didn’t find people attractive she did enjoy sex.

Ikol grabbed a bread roll out of an almost empty basket and held it out to her. 
"I like my partners keen, or we could just talk." He told Dashenka. 
Either way was fine with him, and it wasn't like passionberries made anyone do anything they didn't want to do.

Dashenka took the toll. “We have a deal then.” She gave an impish grin “lets start with talking and see what happens. I usually like to know somethings about the person I’m going to get naked with."

Ikol liked this one. 
Getting assigned to this was turning out great. 
"Well, I was born at Fort, grew up in the creche, joined the Guard instead of signing up to be threadbait then had the good luck to come to Arolos."

Dashenka snorted at that. ‘My da wants me to stand at least once. I’m of the opinion of feck. No.” She finished the roll, and her bowl before eyeing him curiously. “I’m pretty sure he would hate you” the delight in her voice was clear and full of no little amount of mischief. “How much would you like to annoy an old bronze rider?’ She asked, leaning in against Ikol.

Ikol laughed. 
"Wouldn't be the first time, just ain't done it this way before." 
He leaned some weight into the pretty healer, enjoying the feel of her hair against his skin.

Dashenka stepped into him, body pressing close to his, a flare of desire dancing across her body, leaving her breathless momentarily. “There is /always/ a first time for everything. “ her smile was all mischief and lust “I have a feeling we could be good together. You look like you would be a fun friend to have.”

Ikol bit his lip, looking at her mouth. 
"We'll be really good together," he agreed, a warm feeling creeping through his limbs. 
Someone getting stew caught his attention. 
"Seen any good spots for a chat?" He asked, not having gotten to see more than this clearing so far.

“The best” Dashenka leaned in to give him an almost chaste kiss- full of promise of more. “It’s even upwind so we don’t have the fellis stink.”

Ikol kissed back, and then stepped back and bowed to her. 
"Lead the way, m'lady." He said, his face mock-serious.

Dashenka reaches for his hand, her footsteps  getting a bit more slinky as she led him away to the quiet, shaded and fellis stink free copse of trees.
“I told you it was nice” she leaned in to kiss him, unlacing the wide belt she used to give her tunic shape and letting it fall.

"Oh, yeah, very nice," Ikol said, dropping to his knees in front of her. 

~~~~

Post sex wake up always left Dashenka feeling sticky and wanting a bath. This time wasn’t really any different- aside from the delightful aches. She looked at Ikol. “That was fun.” She gave a smirk “Next time you get to top.” She let one hand trace down his chest, curiosity more then any lust in her eyes. “I want to feel you hold me down.”

Ikol shivered, in the good way. 
"Yes, love." He agreed, still feeling hot. 
He stretched out, noticing a rock digging into his hip but too sated to move.

Dashenka wiggled, moving to set her head on his shoulder. “Shall we plot mischief?” She asked him. “My poor da is not going to know what hit him.” She wondered briefly how Ikol would react before nipping his pec, lathing it quickly with her tongue to soothe the sting.

"I love mischief." Ikol admitted. 
Being in the guard, he usually hid that fact but for some reason felt more open than usual. 
He hummed at the playful nip, eyes feeling heavy.

“Right” Dashenka’s fingers traced across his chest and down his abdomen. “My da’s a bronzerider. He is on watch dragon duty after a bad fall” a pang of sadness hit. “Him and his dragon were injured bad. He’s pushy as feck though wanting me to Stand.” She exhaled sharply “I don’t know that I want to. I’m hoping being in craft and having a partner will make him lay off, at least for a while.” She rolled onto her stomach, looking at Ikol. “Can you handle pretend affection in public? Skin to skin contact I mean. Definitely more sex in private......possibly not so private too if it interests you.”

Ikol smiled. 
"Cuddlings no problem, and I grew up at Fort. You were lucky if a ranker bothered with any privacy when they grabbed a woman there."

Dashenka couldn’t help the small shiver that gave her. “Is Fort really that bad? I’ve heard stories but” she bit her lip “I don’t know how much is real and how much was made up to scare us.” She rested her chin on her hand. “I know that da refused any transfer offer there.”

"Fort was worse. Had to run and hide from rankers myself. You're lucky your da is smart."
Ikol shivered in a not so good way, remembering hiding the dress he'd been wearing that day. 
"It's good here."

Dashenka wrapped him in a hug, running her hands through his hair. “I have the greatest urge to put braids in your hair.” She admitted. “I’m sorry you were there but I’m glad you are here.”

"Not today," Ikol said, knowing the braids would feel wrong today.
"When I got here the first person I met was a female guard. I knew then I never wanted to go back."

Dashenka nodded. “You let me know when you want them.” She gave a nod at the information. “Arolos- it’s a lot more open then a lot of places. You can be yourself.” She gave a soft chuckle. “I mean feck.” She looked away “I don’t find people attractive. Anyone. I enjoy sex and anyone who makes sex feel good but the ‘want’ thing that people talk about” she waved her hand “nothing.”  She swallowed hard. “Makes me feel fecking broken. The closest I get to that feelin is during a gold flight- and even then it’s just a more ‘I want sex to scratch an itch’ and not a ‘I want a specific person’.

Ikol woke up from his doziness at that. 
"As someone once told me, we ain't broken for being different. Anyone saying we are might as well claim that different skin colour means you're broken, and THAT is something that no one is lackwitted enough to think."

Dashenka gave a wry grin “who the feck was that wise?” She asked him. Her face was curious as she looked at him. “Seriously though- how the shells did you have that conversation? “ she blushed and hid her face. “Shard it I’m too nosy for my own good.”

"Well, ran into someone who got out of Fort before we had to run, and they asked why I was in a gown..." 
Ikol shrugged.

Dashenka blinked and shrugged “because gowns are comfy?” She asked before wrinkling her nose “Only not too practical unless there are pockets.”

"My next one is going to have pockets." Ikol decided. He'd been putting the money aside for something nice, so why not? 
And his favourite gown needed to have the hem let down on it.

Dashenka gave a nod. “There is nothing worse then having nowhere to put things.” She admitted. She looked him up and down “I bet you look nice in a dress." 

I made this. Honest. (Attention: Cremsden, Tareg, D'ire)

Rabble Rabble
 

D'ire needed a break. 
He'd overheard riders slandering Forts dead bronzers again, and knew that saying anything would cause him more problems in the long run. 
It had been TURNS, weren't they ever going to let the dead rest in peace? 
So he and Andreth had headed out of the weyr for a day at the beach, and somehow were lucky enough to be the only ones there today. 
He might not be the only cripple with a dragon, but he didn't need anyone looking at him once he was off his dragon.
Long used to his limitations by now, he dropped his picnic lunch to the ground before unstrapping his bad leg, grabbing his crutches and letting Andreth roll sideways to let him get off. 
Andreth's attention turned to a rustling in the bushes, and D'ire laughed. 
"Go on, go terrorise the wherries." He said, twitching a blanket into place on the sand, ignoring the sand pushed onto it by his Blues excited tail wagging. 
Andreth bounced over to the bushes and pushed his snout carefully into them after quickly inspecting for dangerous spines.
 
Tareg froze as his berry foraging meant he came face to face with a dragon. He stared at the blue, wide eyed before scurrying backwards, tripping over a stone and turning his ankle. 
“Ow. Feckit.” He yelped, before his lip quivered. He was /not/ going to cry like a brat. He was twelve- and had been looking after himself for turns. He didn’t need to cry at being scared by a dragon. 
Loosing his berries as he fel though was a whole ‘nother thing. 
“You made me squish my berries. I was ungry and now I don’t even ‘ave them.”
 
((Mine, the little is hungry))
Andreth told his rider who had just flopped down onto the sandy blanket with a relieved sigh. 
The blue didn't say anything about ruining the littles food but his voice was tinted with guilt.
D'ire turned to look at his blue. 
"A little what, Andreth?'
It couldn't be a feline, Andreth never had learned about the idea of pet felines although D'ire had taught him to be discrete. 
Andreth sent him an image of the brat.
D'ire mentally groaned at his dragon, but called out to the "little" Andreth had found. 
"Come here, boy."
 
“I’d rather feckin not.” Tareg blurted. “‘Specially if ya going to send me back.” He stood and bit his lip as his ankle let him know it hurt. He wouldn’t be running anywhere for a while.
 
“Ya won send me back, will ya?” He asked hesitantly, taking a step and swearing as pain shot through his ankle. “Fecking ow, my ankle.”
 
"Back where?" D'ire asked, considering and discarding the idea of standing up. 
Southern brats needed to learn respect, and coddling   helped no one. 
"If your ankle hurts don't use it." He pointed out instead.
 
“Don’t matter where. Ain’t like I’m goin back” Tareg scowled at his already swelling foot. “How’s I supposed ya not use it and come out?” He asked. “It only got hurt cos I wasn’t expecting a dragon to stick their nose in the berry bush I was getting somethin t’eat off.”
 
D'ire resisted the urge to turn his back on the brat. 
"Well, you ain't from Fort or you'd know how to behave." He said, mostly to himself. 
"Southerners don't know how raise brats right."
He raised an eyebrow. 
"You've never heard of hopping?"
 
Tareg scowled at him. “I could walk on my hands if I had eaten in the last two days.” He crossed his arms and scowled. “All I wanted was something to eat and your dragon scared the shots out of me that I lost the few berries that were ready to eat.”
 
"Two days." D'ire repeated, reaching for his crutches. 
That wasn't good for anyone, and he was wondering if the brat had had a proper meal that two days ago. 
"You've been ought here for two days?" He asked, looping the picnic baskets extra strap over the back of his head before heaving himself to his feet.
 
 
“Not /here/ specifically.” Tareg grumbled, giving in the urge to sit down. “And I had some berries when I could fine em so it’s not really been two days since I ate. “ he hesitated then admitted. “I’ve been by myself for weeks. Ain’t any different then home only no ones yellin at me.”
 
Brats didn't just run away to starve for being yelled at for being naughty, D'ire thought, remembering listening in to a couple of healers who thought he was asleep last time he was stuck in the infirmary. 
"They hit you outside of discipline?" He asked, carefully hobbling over until he was beside Andreth, who was eyeing the brat with worry. 
Nothing better than punishing a brat, aside from no punishments ehen needed, to ruin a brat.
 
Tareg grit his teeth and looked away. “Ran before he could hit me too. Used ta hide from ‘im when ‘e was in a mood.” His whole body seemed to close off. He did not want to talk about it.
 
"At least you're not stupid." D'ire remarked. 
He looked the boy over, considering. 
"What do you want to do with your life?"
 
Taregs chin went up stubbornly. “I wanna be a dragon rider. Like my da was- before he died.” He admitted. “His blue always told me I’d make a good Rider.”
 
That D'ire hadn't expected. 
Someone at the creche would have notice an abusive parent. 
"You didn't tell the creche workers what was going on?" He asked, sitting down and removing the picnic baskets strap from around his neck.
 
Tareg scowled. “I was with ma. We traveled a lot. Da would come and see us when he could.” He traced a pattern on the ground. “Would’a been easier had he lived. Ma wouldn’t” he clammed up again, not wanting to let any more out then he had to.
 
D'ire looked at blue Andreth, thinking about how he'd feel if he died in Fall and a trader took his brat from the weyr and raised him wrong. 
"What was your sires name and weyr?" He asked after a moment, opening the picnic basket.
 
Tareg shook his head hard. “If I tell you they can find ma and him an I’m not going back.” His eyes however followed the motions of his hands as he opened the basket.
 
"Eat slowly." He told the brat, trying to think of how to deal with the brat. 
If he wasn't a cripple he'd just grab the boy and take him to the weyr.
His eyes dropped to the boy's ankle. 
"And show me your ankle."
 
Tareg tried to eat slowly, he really did- and after the first couple of mouthfuls he forced himself to stop gulping. 
He tensed as he considered putting his injured ankle out and looked at the rider a moment before he slid his dirty, shoeless foot over.
 
D'ire poked at the ankle carefully, assessing it. 
"I'm no healer but you haven't damaged it badly enough to stop you from standing when you reach 12 turns." 
He wiped his hands on his leggings and hmmmed thoughtfully at the brat.
 
Tareg tucked his leg back under him. “M’twelve.” He admitted when his mouth was no longer full. “Turned a while back. Was why I left- figured I could find an apprenticeship or something but” he shrugged. It was hard to find an apprenticeship when you were half starved and had nothing to say you were of age.
 
D'ire was a product of the Fort creche system, and so didn't see the brats mother as having any claim on him. What truly mattered was this was a rider's son, and that rider's dragon had deemed him candidate material. 
"What's your name?" He still eyeing the lad thoughtfully.
 
“Tareg.” He answered quietly. He reached for something else, hesitating before pulling his hand back. He knew from experience that eating too much would mean it would come straight back up again.
 
"Well, you ought to be at a weyr in any case." Dire stated as a fact. 
"I'll take you to the healers, tell them your mother... Aregine or something similar... and I met at Fort Weyr, and she's now realised where you belong."
 
Tareg stared at him wide eyed. 
“But why?” He asked him. “You’d lie for me?”
 
"I'll claim you as mine," D'ire said, "Because you belong at a weyr, not with traders who don't know how discipline works."
 
Tareg blinked back tears and swiped at his face, trying to chase them away. “Jus so long as you don expect me to call you da. I have- had a da.” He swallowed hard. “Thank you.”
 
"I called my sire 'Sir'." Dire said, "He was T'lod of Bronze Mayrth." 
He watched the boy to see if he understood the importance of a bronze dragon. 
"I also have a son, Tosire. He is 11 turns old."
 
“I can cal you Sir.” Tareg informed him. “Will- would Tosire mind having a slightly older brother?” He couldn’t help the slight wistful longing in his voice. He always wished he had a little sibling.
 
D'ire shrugged. 
"He's a good weyr brat, and  I likely have other brats I've  not met." He said. 
He knew exactly how likely that actually was, not that he would actually admit to it, even after turns at Arolos.
 
That made Tareg relax even more. “Okay.” He tilted his head a moment. “You won’t get into any trouble will you, with how I, you know, look- will you?”
 
"If they try, I've got a healthy brat I've acknowledged his whole life to show I don't starve brats for fun."
Although perhaps he'd take the brat to his weyr and get him to wash before taking him to the healers. 
He looked the brat over, deciding that he probably had some of Tosire's clothing in his weyr that the lad would fit.
 
Tareg tilted his head at him before nodding. “If’n it looks like you are goin ya be in trouble though, we tell the truth.” His eyes looked fierce in his half starved face. “You promise me that Sir. You aren’t goin ya get in trouble because a me.”
 
"If there's trouble, I'll deal with it." 
And even the softhearted Arolos types couldn't fault a rider for the care of a brat he didn't know anything about. 
"In return, you conduct yourself the way a dragonriders' son ought to.  After all, your grandsire was a Bronzerider of Fort."
 
Tareg gave a shy grin at that. “Thank you, Sir.” He hesitated barely a breathe before asking “What is your blues name? I figure I should know if if’n I’m your brat.”
 
"This is Andreth." D'ire said proudly.
 
“Pleasure to meet you Andreth” Tareg have the blue a wave. “Do you like your eye ridges scratched? My- well. Lanceth used to tel me I was the best at doing that.”
 
Andreths attention had drifted back to the bushes in hopes of something to chase, but a mental nudge from D'ire had him catching what the boy said.
((Mine, tell little yes)) Andreths tail was stiring up sand again and D'ire flipped the picnic basket lid over as he told Tareg, "You can go ahead."
 
Tareg grinned and hobbled over to the blue. He rather hesitantly leaned against him in order to reach his head and eye ridges and to scratch and rub them.
 
Tareg couldn’t help but him softly to Andreth as he scratched him. He missed this- oh sure, it was a very different dragon- but he missed the feel of dragonhide under his hands.
 
Well, if there had been any questions about the brat really having been a rider's son, his confidence and accuracy in scritching a blue would have dispelled it. D'ire ate the last of what was in the basket as he watched, and then pulled himself to his feet, wobbling on his crutches for a moment as the sand underneath him shifted.
"Well, we better get going. Got a few things to get done today." 
He limped over to Andreth. 
((We can keep the little? Good scratching.)) The blue asked.
"Yes, Andreth, we're keeping him." 
D'ire double checked the straps and then limped back to the basket, before looking over at the blanket still where he'd positioned it earlier. 
He glanced at the boy - at Tareg's ankle, and set off to get it himself.
 
 
Tareg looked at D’ire- Sir and gave a nod in agreement. He gave Andreth one last scratch and stroke against his muzzle. “Thank you- for letting me scratch. I missed it.”
 
Andreth gave Tareg-little a big lick while D'ire was carefully picking up the blanket, his back turned.
 
Tareg giggled softly. “Thanks Andreth. I hope you don’t mind your Rider adopting me. I really hope he doesn’t get in any trouble. I’m going to make him proud, promise.”
 
D'ire tied the blanket to the side of the basket and looped the strap over his neck again. 
"You know how to mount a dragon?" He asked.
 
Tareg gave a nod. “I remember. I think it’s something that’s impossible to forget.” He added with a quick smile. He still dreamed of flying high with his da and Lanceth.
 
"That may be true," D'ire acknowledged, before looking at where the brat was standing. 
"Move in front of Andreth for a moment." He told Tareg.
 
“Yes sir.” Tareg answered, shifting to where he was told. “Sorry about all the touching Andreth. Let Sir know if you’d rather me not.” He added, naming leant against the blue more then once as he moved around.
 
"Okay Andreth," Dire told his blue, who flopped sideways, kicking up the sand more than a little. 
D'ire was immediately strapping himself onto his saddle, hands quick with long practice. 
He looked over at Tareg. 
"Want to get on now, or the normal way?" He asked.
 
Tareg considered his ankle before answering. “Usually I’d say the other way, but I’m not too sure I could climb up with one ankle.” He admitted, limping painfully around.
 
“I’m lucky today for more then that Sir.” Tareg answered as he copied what the rider had done “how is this?”
 
"That's good." He reached back and tightened a strap, clad the brat was as small as he was. "Hold on to me tightly." He then said, a hand on the brat just in case. 
"Andreth, up."
Andreth rolled back up, showering sand everywhere.
 
Tareg clung to D’ire as the world tilted and they were upright. His head spun a little but he was okay. He didn’t even worry about the sand- after all, he was already all sorts of dirty.
 
D'ire checked that all the relevant straps were in place, before leaning his whole body sideways. 
He strapped his bad leg down and turned his head to check that Tareg was secure. 
And Andreth launched into the sky.
 
Tareg couldn’t help the grin that danced over his face. This. This was his childhood. This was his memories of his da. This was everything. The Rider may not realise it, but he had reignited Taregs love for flying.
 
They flew straight for a minute, D'lan taking the time just to look down in case there was anything to report to the rankers. 
"Okay, between in 3...2...1..." D'lan counted down for the brats benefit, and then they Betweened. 
Coming out they were near the weyr, but not over it, so Tareg got a great view instead of the usual spot above the weyrbowl.
 
Tareg’s head swiveled around, once the cold of between faded, and couldn’t believe what he was seeing. Arolos from the air was a wonder.
 
Soon enough, Andreth was shifting his flight, heading for their weyr. 
He landed normally, and D'ire leaned down along his bad leg, easily unbuckling his leg. Andreth then crouched and gently and slowly tilted sideways until D'ire and Tareg were almost on the floor. 
D'ire unbuckled the last strap holding himself in place and rolled out, then knelt up on one knee to unbuckle Tareg.
 
Tareg waited till he was unbuckled before giving an acrobatic little twist to get off. He stood up, half hugging himself, as he looked around the blueriders weyr.
 
"Careful on your leg." D'ire warned, as he removed the basket and his crutches so that Andreth could sit up.
 
Tareg nodded. “I will, Sir.” He couldn’t help but look around however, hands hugged to himself so he would. Not. Touch.
 
"Wash bowl is through the door." He told the boy. His weyr was kept uncluttered more than most riders, even though he had the standard single weyr.
He turned to unbuckling Andreth's straps so the blue could go feed without adding to the cleaning routine.
 
Tareg hobbled to the wash bowl, stripping his shirt off before starting to scrub his upper body with the cloth. He was skinny but not emancipated at least- just lacking any body fat. 
 
It didn’t take long to get the top half of himself clean, and he deftly stripped from the rest of his clothes, folding the rags as near as he could before finishing. The only thing he didn’t wash was his hair- and it hang rather shaggily and dirty around his face.
 
When he'd finished letting Andreth free, D'ire headed into his private room to see if the brat had washed up at all. 
It was good that he had, and D'ire located clean clothes for him to change into. 
"Rinse your hair out too, then dry with the cloth on that hook."
 
“Yessir.” Tareg answered, cupping his hands to rinse his head. It felt, to be honest, nice- even though it didn’t get the oils off- getting the dust off helped him de better. The bowl was more mud then water by the time he finished, and started to dry off- but he was very much no longer dirty.
 
"Good lad." He waved his hand at the clothes. 
"You alright to walk to the infirmary with me, or would you like a cane?"
 
Tareg pauses when thinking that over. Pain won out over pride however. “Cane please sir. If’n I walk on it I could make it worse. Least that’s what” he went quiet. That was what Iolan, the older woman who would patch anyone up who needed it, would say.
 
D'ire got the cane he kept by his cot and took it over to the boy.
 
Tareg accepted it with a grateful smile, trying it out for a couple of steps and finding it much easier then hobbling along.
 
D'ire nodded at his new brat and headed for the other door. At least his wey had a good location.
 
Tareg followed after, one step behind and silently, staying to follow his- Sir to their destination.
 
D'ire took the easiest way to the Infirmary and entered, looking around for a Healer. 
 
(Ooc: TLDR version. D'ire goes out for a nice day relaxing on a beach, finds a hungry 12 turn old who hasn't eaten properly in a while. Finds out the boy is a deceased blueriders son who ran away from an abusive trader. Decides the easiest way to get the boy Where He Belongs is to acknowledge him as D'ires son. Now taking him and his sprained ankle to the healers.)

A Walk to Remember Alyx/Any

Alyx
 

As she left the Infirmary, Ardy on her shoulder, she had no definate destination in mind, and aimlessly wandered towards the lake. The sand was soft under her feet, the sound of the water was soothing, it lulled her mind into a state where she wasn't really thinking about anything, this was just what she'd wanted. But it was lonely, the quiet was lonely. Then her mind started to turn, she thought about things that should have been, rather than those that  had been. She felt guilty, but should have gone, she should have been there. Should have...

The tears started again as she looked out over the lake,but other than occasionally wiping them away with her sleeve she seemed to take no notice of them. Ardy, the little bronze on her shoulder, cuddled up in her curly black hair keened softly along side her.

--
Have fun with any of my characters. Alyx, Lerian (candidates), Vayka (Healer), J'hen, D'vik, Teyra, Cotai (Riders), Rotasta (AWLM)

Re: What should I do? (attn Cremsden / Ishkana)

Laura Walker
 

"You get used to people being sick on you," Cremsden assured her. "And crapping on you for that matter. Sensitive stomachs don't last long around here." He ran through her list in his head for a moment. "_Oil_ to stop numbweed, sweetheart, redwort then oil else you'll be useful for very little for the rest of the day. Though depending on what it's for you may want to use a paddle. Fellis sedates -- you need to remember that if you're using it, though you won't be prescribing yourself for a good while. Remind riders of it if you get asked to give them some by a journeyman though -- no-one should be *between*ing on fellis and sometimes people forget if the patient's not in front of them to check the knots. Not a bad list all the same though." He sounded approving despite his corrections. "Generally we'll try to give you at least a short period each day shadowing someone. Means you see what's going on and you never know when we'll need a runner for something not in the room."

On Fri, Aug 17, 2018 at 8:43 PM, Lindsay <alexeden1971@...> wrote:
Ishkana beamed at him. That was a nice clear information request. "I can read well, write okay and do numbers. I know numbweed is generally used for skin or muscle pain, and fellis for inside pain. Redwort is to make things clean and stops the effects of numbweed on a healer's hands. I can make klah and fold bandages, and I don't really have a problem with blood although if someone's sick on me I may throw up too. I generally only got to watch bits and pieces in the Hold, and not do anything except tidying, stirring numbweed kettles and sweeping the floor. Oh, and I'm quite fast at picking and packing needlethorn."

On Wed, 15 Aug 2018 at 12:00, Laura Walker <shewhoguards@...> wrote:

"An aunt and uncle," Ishkana clarified, "Cousins of my mother, so not really close family. Jerronila is one of their children."

"It happens," Cremsden nodded agreeably. "Okay. What I need from you then is to tell me about what kind of things you did growing up - chores, lessons, that kind of thing. We can work to fill in gaps but my life is a lot easier if I know that the gaps are there and need to be filled than if we proceed assuming that knowing how to do a certain thing is standard and end up with you lost." He smiled at her. "Conversely, particularly if you've done any work at all in an Infirmary, there's no point wasting everyone's time by teaching you basics you're already solid on."

--

Blackadder: I mean, what about the people that do all the work?
Baldrick: The servants.
Blackadder: No, me; *I'm* the people who do all the work.




--

Blackadder: I mean, what about the people that do all the work?
Baldrick: The servants.
Blackadder: No, me; *I'm* the people who do all the work.

Re: What will I be? (Attn: Cremsden, Jerronila)

Laura Walker
 

"Mmmm." Cremsden didn't look exactly thrilled by that. "Many childhood illnesses -- you know, the usual stuff? Everrash, measles, that kind of thing?"

On Fri, Aug 17, 2018 at 10:55 PM, Rabble Rabble <rabblerabble@...> wrote:
"No, sir. Nothing since a cold last winter." She said, glad she had nothing that could stop her being an apprentice. 

--

Blackadder: I mean, what about the people that do all the work?
Baldrick: The servants.
Blackadder: No, me; *I'm* the people who do all the work.

Re: The Smart Don't Swim (Kl'ryn, C'fer)

Mya L. R.
 


On Sat, Aug 18, 2018 at 5:39 PM, Rabble Rabble <rabblerabble@...> wrote:
C'fer looked up from the panicked Panic making distressed chirps inside his shirt, opening his mouth to tell the other person - a mere brownrider according to the indignant Abelindath - and paused. 
He turned his head to the side in a reflexive attempt to hide his half-scarred face, and smiled at the brownrider. 
"That's alright," he replied, his body language a bit shy. 

It seemed like the greenrider was avoiding looking at him fully.  Kl'ryn peered at him a moment trying to tell if there was a reason for it, but he wasn't that good at telling something like that.  "Anything I can do to make up for the soaking?"


--
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Member Name: MyaL
Discord: Neffeyn#8723

Re: Despair on the Wings of a flit. (Alyx/ Cremsden)

Alyx
 

Alyx gently pet Ardy before lifting him to his normal spot on her shoulder. She knew that her book would be plenty safe here for now. She nodded at his question, for a little while she just wanted peace and quiet to try and come to terms with things as they were. She stood slowly, fully aware that she would be a bit shaky, and she was but that too was normal from shock. So she stood still for a moment till she felt stable again, at least physically. It only took her a few steps to get to the door, but as she did, unlocking it, she turned back to Cremsden, and gave him a still somewhat sad smile.

"Thanks Cremsden. I appreciate it."

On Sun, Aug 19, 2018 at 4:56 PM, Laura Walker <shewhoguards@...> wrote:

She wiped her eyes again, though the tears, had for now, mostly stopped. Thinking of some of the insanity she'd seen at meals, she understood his reluctance completely. Not that she didn't at times eat with the crowd. It was just that mostly the crowd flowed around her, noises and all not really impacting her. She took another long drink of her klah, doing her best to Not look at her reflection, she was sure she didn't want to see what she looked like at the moment. But a walk down the beach by the lake and back, should help. The lake was pretty calming.

"I think I would too, if I was there all the time. Though sometimes it's nearly as noisy here. But I think, right now I want quiet."

"Different sort of noisy," Cremsden said firmly. "Emergency noisy is constructive noisy -- that's proper noise to achieve something and anyway when you really need anything you can yell." And he did, regularly, lifting his voice to holler an 'APPRENTICE!' over the background noise. "Dining Hall noisy is just 'why the feck would you try to fit so many people in here'. You off for that walk?"

--

Blackadder: I mean, what about the people that do all the work?
Baldrick: The servants.
Blackadder: No, me; *I'm* the people who do all the work.



--
Have fun with any of my characters. Alyx, Lerian (candidates), Vayka (Healer), J'hen, D'vik, Teyra, Cotai (Riders), Rotasta (AWLM)

Re: Despair on the Wings of a flit. (Alyx/ Cremsden)

Laura Walker
 


She wiped her eyes again, though the tears, had for now, mostly stopped. Thinking of some of the insanity she'd seen at meals, she understood his reluctance completely. Not that she didn't at times eat with the crowd. It was just that mostly the crowd flowed around her, noises and all not really impacting her. She took another long drink of her klah, doing her best to Not look at her reflection, she was sure she didn't want to see what she looked like at the moment. But a walk down the beach by the lake and back, should help. The lake was pretty calming.

"I think I would too, if I was there all the time. Though sometimes it's nearly as noisy here. But I think, right now I want quiet."

"Different sort of noisy," Cremsden said firmly. "Emergency noisy is constructive noisy -- that's proper noise to achieve something and anyway when you really need anything you can yell." And he did, regularly, lifting his voice to holler an 'APPRENTICE!' over the background noise. "Dining Hall noisy is just 'why the feck would you try to fit so many people in here'. You off for that walk?"

--

Blackadder: I mean, what about the people that do all the work?
Baldrick: The servants.
Blackadder: No, me; *I'm* the people who do all the work.

Re: Despair on the Wings of a flit. (Alyx/ Cremsden)

Alyx
 

She wiped her eyes again, though the tears, had for now, mostly stopped. Thinking of some of the insanity she'd seen at meals, she understood his reluctance completely. Not that she didn't at times eat with the crowd. It was just that mostly the crowd flowed around her, noises and all not really impacting her. She took another long drink of her klah, doing her best to Not look at her reflection, she was sure she didn't want to see what she looked like at the moment. But a walk down the beach by the lake and back, should help. The lake was pretty calming.

"I think I would too, if I was there all the time. Though sometimes it's nearly as noisy here. But I think, right now I want quiet."

On Sun, Aug 19, 2018 at 4:47 PM, Laura Walker <shewhoguards@...> wrote:
"They're used enough to us crashing after a shift to keep a bit aside for us anyway," Cremsden agreed. "Tried eating in there at normal person time when K'ren had me off sick. I think I managed it all of twice. If I were a rider with my whole day planned out to push me into those times I think I would go mad." It was a safe normal subject, and he kept his tone conversational, feeling her calm down without needing to look to check.

On Sun, Aug 19, 2018 at 11:41 PM, Alyx <scottish.wolfecary@...> wrote:
That brought a small chuckle from Alyx, yea K'ren wouldn't like someone getting drunk in the infirmary, though she ate dinner here often enough. She nodded after a moment. Thinking that a couple hours late, there usually wasn't as much traffic, and well that's usually when she ate any how. Between late shifts and what not.

"Yea, after the mess clears it better. I eat late all the time, no one will think anything about it." It seemed fairly obvious that she didn't plan to go around telling people.

--

Blackadder: I mean, what about the people that do all the work?
Baldrick: The servants.
Blackadder: No, me; *I'm* the people who do all the work.



--
Have fun with any of my characters. Alyx, Lerian (candidates), Vayka (Healer), J'hen, D'vik, Teyra, Cotai (Riders), Rotasta (AWLM)

Re: Despair on the Wings of a flit. (Alyx/ Cremsden)

Laura Walker
 

"They're used enough to us crashing after a shift to keep a bit aside for us anyway," Cremsden agreed. "Tried eating in there at normal person time when K'ren had me off sick. I think I managed it all of twice. If I were a rider with my whole day planned out to push me into those times I think I would go mad." It was a safe normal subject, and he kept his tone conversational, feeling her calm down without needing to look to check.

On Sun, Aug 19, 2018 at 11:41 PM, Alyx <scottish.wolfecary@...> wrote:
That brought a small chuckle from Alyx, yea K'ren wouldn't like someone getting drunk in the infirmary, though she ate dinner here often enough. She nodded after a moment. Thinking that a couple hours late, there usually wasn't as much traffic, and well that's usually when she ate any how. Between late shifts and what not.

"Yea, after the mess clears it better. I eat late all the time, no one will think anything about it." It seemed fairly obvious that she didn't plan to go around telling people.

--

Blackadder: I mean, what about the people that do all the work?
Baldrick: The servants.
Blackadder: No, me; *I'm* the people who do all the work.

Re: Despair on the Wings of a flit. (Alyx/ Cremsden)

Alyx
 

That brought a small chuckle from Alyx, yea K'ren wouldn't like someone getting drunk in the infirmary, though she ate dinner here often enough. She nodded after a moment. Thinking that a couple hours late, there usually wasn't as much traffic, and well that's usually when she ate any how. Between late shifts and what not.

"Yea, after the mess clears it better. I eat late all the time, no one will think anything about it." It seemed fairly obvious that she didn't plan to go around telling people.

On Sun, Aug 19, 2018 at 4:32 PM, Laura Walker <shewhoguards@...> wrote:
"Yeah, you're not bringing alcohol in here -- easy going as he is I think even K'ren might raise an eyebrow," Cremsden said, and if the cheerfulness was slightly forced it was there regardless. Sometimes the quickest way to restore normality to a situation was to act normally until the world adjusted. "Dining Hall? Not dead on dinner time though. Can't deal with that amount of people. Hit it about an hour or two after and you can actually hear yourself think 'cause they all moved to the Rider's Hall already."

On Sun, Aug 19, 2018 at 11:25 PM, Alyx <scottish.wolfecary@...> wrote:
Alyx took a breath, a long drink of the klah, and that seemed to, for the moment settle her stomach and her nerves. Normally she wasn't much of a drinker, but being a healer she knew well those properties. It might help, to get past the shock. Just keep her going for a little while longer. Like her grandfather had told her, her whole life. 'One step at a time'. So one step at a time, first, stop crying, next step, some quiet time. Then dinner, and some wine.

"I...think that could be good. I share a room, I was planning to bring dinner here, to study.." Except now, she didn't want to study any more.

On Sun, Aug 19, 2018 at 4:16 PM, Laura Walker <shewhoguards@...> wrote:

It helped that he wasn't looking, she hated feeling weak. Hated when other people could see when she wasn't in control of herself. She tried so hard, always had, ever since she had gotten here, working both as candidate and healer apprentice, sometimes working extra shifts. She didn't take much time to herself, in part because she didn't really have friends. She'd nothing to do when not working, and so worked as much as she could.

"I think, I...just need a few minutes, then a long walk."

"Good lass. Drink your klah. It helps." He shouldn't say the next, and he *knew* he shouldn't. Could almost see Cuylar looking disappointed, and Kregg raising an eyebrow at the lies we tell ourselves. But it was one night and an emergency and not for his sake and -- and also he really wanted a drink without anyone mentally calculating what percentage of the skin he had drunk. 

"You want a drink later?" he said casually, still poking at the fire. "Can help you sleep after a bad day. I can bring cards over."
 

--

Blackadder: I mean, what about the people that do all the work?
Baldrick: The servants.
Blackadder: No, me; *I'm* the people who do all the work.



--
Have fun with any of my characters. Alyx, Lerian (candidates), Vayka (Healer), J'hen, D'vik, Teyra, Cotai (Riders), Rotasta (AWLM)




--

Blackadder: I mean, what about the people that do all the work?
Baldrick: The servants.
Blackadder: No, me; *I'm* the people who do all the work.



--
Have fun with any of my characters. Alyx, Lerian (candidates), Vayka (Healer), J'hen, D'vik, Teyra, Cotai (Riders), Rotasta (AWLM)

Re: Despair on the Wings of a flit. (Alyx/ Cremsden)

Laura Walker
 

"Yeah, you're not bringing alcohol in here -- easy going as he is I think even K'ren might raise an eyebrow," Cremsden said, and if the cheerfulness was slightly forced it was there regardless. Sometimes the quickest way to restore normality to a situation was to act normally until the world adjusted. "Dining Hall? Not dead on dinner time though. Can't deal with that amount of people. Hit it about an hour or two after and you can actually hear yourself think 'cause they all moved to the Rider's Hall already."

On Sun, Aug 19, 2018 at 11:25 PM, Alyx <scottish.wolfecary@...> wrote:
Alyx took a breath, a long drink of the klah, and that seemed to, for the moment settle her stomach and her nerves. Normally she wasn't much of a drinker, but being a healer she knew well those properties. It might help, to get past the shock. Just keep her going for a little while longer. Like her grandfather had told her, her whole life. 'One step at a time'. So one step at a time, first, stop crying, next step, some quiet time. Then dinner, and some wine.

"I...think that could be good. I share a room, I was planning to bring dinner here, to study.." Except now, she didn't want to study any more.

On Sun, Aug 19, 2018 at 4:16 PM, Laura Walker <shewhoguards@...> wrote:

It helped that he wasn't looking, she hated feeling weak. Hated when other people could see when she wasn't in control of herself. She tried so hard, always had, ever since she had gotten here, working both as candidate and healer apprentice, sometimes working extra shifts. She didn't take much time to herself, in part because she didn't really have friends. She'd nothing to do when not working, and so worked as much as she could.

"I think, I...just need a few minutes, then a long walk."

"Good lass. Drink your klah. It helps." He shouldn't say the next, and he *knew* he shouldn't. Could almost see Cuylar looking disappointed, and Kregg raising an eyebrow at the lies we tell ourselves. But it was one night and an emergency and not for his sake and -- and also he really wanted a drink without anyone mentally calculating what percentage of the skin he had drunk. 

"You want a drink later?" he said casually, still poking at the fire. "Can help you sleep after a bad day. I can bring cards over."
 

--

Blackadder: I mean, what about the people that do all the work?
Baldrick: The servants.
Blackadder: No, me; *I'm* the people who do all the work.



--
Have fun with any of my characters. Alyx, Lerian (candidates), Vayka (Healer), J'hen, D'vik, Teyra, Cotai (Riders), Rotasta (AWLM)




--

Blackadder: I mean, what about the people that do all the work?
Baldrick: The servants.
Blackadder: No, me; *I'm* the people who do all the work.

Re: Despair on the Wings of a flit. (Alyx/ Cremsden)

Alyx
 

Alyx took a breath, a long drink of the klah, and that seemed to, for the moment settle her stomach and her nerves. Normally she wasn't much of a drinker, but being a healer she knew well those properties. It might help, to get past the shock. Just keep her going for a little while longer. Like her grandfather had told her, her whole life. 'One step at a time'. So one step at a time, first, stop crying, next step, some quiet time. Then dinner, and some wine.

"I...think that could be good. I share a room, I was planning to bring dinner here, to study.." Except now, she didn't want to study any more.

On Sun, Aug 19, 2018 at 4:16 PM, Laura Walker <shewhoguards@...> wrote:

It helped that he wasn't looking, she hated feeling weak. Hated when other people could see when she wasn't in control of herself. She tried so hard, always had, ever since she had gotten here, working both as candidate and healer apprentice, sometimes working extra shifts. She didn't take much time to herself, in part because she didn't really have friends. She'd nothing to do when not working, and so worked as much as she could.

"I think, I...just need a few minutes, then a long walk."

"Good lass. Drink your klah. It helps." He shouldn't say the next, and he *knew* he shouldn't. Could almost see Cuylar looking disappointed, and Kregg raising an eyebrow at the lies we tell ourselves. But it was one night and an emergency and not for his sake and -- and also he really wanted a drink without anyone mentally calculating what percentage of the skin he had drunk. 

"You want a drink later?" he said casually, still poking at the fire. "Can help you sleep after a bad day. I can bring cards over."
 

--

Blackadder: I mean, what about the people that do all the work?
Baldrick: The servants.
Blackadder: No, me; *I'm* the people who do all the work.



--
Have fun with any of my characters. Alyx, Lerian (candidates), Vayka (Healer), J'hen, D'vik, Teyra, Cotai (Riders), Rotasta (AWLM)

Re: Despair on the Wings of a flit. (Alyx/ Cremsden)

Laura Walker
 


It helped that he wasn't looking, she hated feeling weak. Hated when other people could see when she wasn't in control of herself. She tried so hard, always had, ever since she had gotten here, working both as candidate and healer apprentice, sometimes working extra shifts. She didn't take much time to herself, in part because she didn't really have friends. She'd nothing to do when not working, and so worked as much as she could.

"I think, I...just need a few minutes, then a long walk."

"Good lass. Drink your klah. It helps." He shouldn't say the next, and he *knew* he shouldn't. Could almost see Cuylar looking disappointed, and Kregg raising an eyebrow at the lies we tell ourselves. But it was one night and an emergency and not for his sake and -- and also he really wanted a drink without anyone mentally calculating what percentage of the skin he had drunk. 

"You want a drink later?" he said casually, still poking at the fire. "Can help you sleep after a bad day. I can bring cards over."
 

--

Blackadder: I mean, what about the people that do all the work?
Baldrick: The servants.
Blackadder: No, me; *I'm* the people who do all the work.