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The following is not a fanfic page, but a page for a character on SouCon MUSH at Southern Weyr.

Honshu Weyr Leadership Flight

Log file from Jelisa.

9/22/99 3:59:41 AM

Edited for K'tor's benefit, logged by Jelisa @ HSW

Honshu Weyr Main Hall(#151RJs$)

K'tor strides over from the entrance hall.

S'ard glances yet again at the main doors and smiles, "Hiyas... Welcome to Honshu."

K'tor strides in, utterly soaked and with ice beginning to melt in his hair. The swearing is stifled, at least for the moment, as the blueish bronzerider offers, "Southern's duties." Then he asks plantively, "Can someone get me a towel or something?"

Molly peeks over from her corner, "I'll get you one..." She runs out, returning a moment later. She comes close to hand it over, "Here you go rider."

Jelisa's head swivels about and she just stares at the southern bronzerider, mouth hanging open.

Genalee raises an eyebrow at T'ren and giggles again...she seems to do that alot lately. She moves even closer and sits down on her lap, snaking her arms around his neck. "Yes, it's just been me in there...all /alone/." She flutters her eyelashes and winks. "But we could change /that/, now couldn't we?"

"Good to hear," D'fit informs Jelisa with a bright grin, relieved that the misplaced good mood didn't get him in trouble. "A towel?" D'fit repeats, confused, at K'tor's words. He blinks, and glances at Br'den and his towel.

Br'den shrugs his shoulders defensively and slings his own towel over his shoulders. It's -his- towel. He gives K'tor a welcoming glare and plunks himself down in a chair. Great. Genalee, Jelisa -and- D'fit, all in one room.

K'tor gives the girl a genuine smile of thanks as he wraps up in the towel, the wet leathers likely only compounding the problem. A corner is used to make a halfhearted swipe at the melting ice in his hair, even as gray eyes seek out... Ah. There she is. Occupying... a lap... that isn't his. Squared jaw sets faintly. Have to do something about that. Brid's glare gets an answering one of his own as he edges in a bit closer to the center of attention.

M'ton gets up to refill his klah mug. "Can I get you something.. hot.. to drink, sir?"

S'ard watches the glaring and mutters something that sounds like 'children', before the rest of his words are drowned by a sip of wine.

T'ren says "Uh, you. alone? Weyr? Me?"

Sydnie strides over from the entrance hall.

K'tor registers M'ton on his radar and supplies. "Kat. Albanth's rider." A pause and more information is dragged from the forebrain. "From Southern. Not a sir." A shake of his head, and he trots out a full sentance. "If you've got hot wine that'd be great. Or just klah."

M'ton nods to K'tor and nods. "M'ton, Esvorth's rider." He unstops a bottle to the side of the klah pot and pours a glass. "Wine, and welcome to Honshu."

Br'den shivers and grabs the ends of the towel. He stares intently at his... knees?

Sharia walks over from the entrance hall.
Jilian strides over from the entrance hall.
Fiona strides over from the entrance hall.

Jilian blinks and looks around.."Wow..look at all the people.

D'fit seems to be one of the few people not directing hostile emotions to everyone else. "The hearth is warm if you'd like to thaw out," he calls over to the iced K'tor.

Genalee sudden grows irritated and pushes herself away from T'ren and certainly off of his lap. "Is there /anyone/ in this room who wants to join me in my weyr? /Why/ do I have to spell it out to any male here." She seems frustrated now, looking angrily at T'ren, and then Br'den. She searches out someone new..."

S'ard grins at Genalee, "Sure."

Jilian laughs at Genalee's statement

K'tor's hand absently gropes for the wine as his head turns to seek out Genalee again. "Thank you. Didn't expect to get hauled out of a bath." Which apparently explains his dripping condition. he has to rip his gaze away from Genalee to find M'ton again to get the wine, which is downed in a few long gulps. "Thanks. D'fit, wasn't it?"

Jilian says "I'm sure you wouldn't find a shortage..I'd give it a go..""

Sharia steps into the hall, followed closely by her apprentice. She also seems surprised by the number of people around and pauses in the doorway. "Looks like we came to check the fabrics at a bad time," she murmurs to Fiona.

Fiona enters, close at Sharia's heels, and then stops, blinking. Her eyes widen slightly, and she nods to Sharia.

Jelisa shakes her head slowly, body growing a bit tense. One hand reaches absently to lay on D'fit's arm, as if for reassurance.

T'ren realxes and takes a LONG drink of his Klah, now that he's no longer under the scruitny of one particular gold rider. In fact, he looks over at the Wine, then shakes his head and continues sipping his Klah.

S'ard stands and moves closer to Genalee, "Or did you change your mind already ?"

M'ton goes back to sit down in his seat and sip his klah and.. watch the scenery, so to speak.

D'fit nods to K'tor. "D'fit, Tizonth's rider," he confirms, covering Jelisa's hand with his own. Odd day in the hall, isn't it?

Sharia's frown deepens as she looks around, trying to find one person that might not be too agitated at the moment. "Now I remember why I hate Weyrs," she mutters beneath her breath, shaking her head in disgust that the behavior of practically every rider in the room. "Well, won't get anything done standing here..." She steps forward, farther into the hall.

Genalee snaps her head around to look at S'ard. She scrutinizes him, eyes roaming over every...inch of him as she stares. A seductive smile begins to take form and she leans closer to S'ard. "Oh no, I've not changed my mind." She tosses her hair back behind her shoulders and stares at him with emotion in her eyes that is fairly evident in indicating what she desires.

S'ard has disconnected.

Jilian walks over towards D'fit, shrugging and shaking her head in amusement and muttering something about goldriders.

Sydnie slips into the halls from deeper inside, apparently. Stealing a pastry, she blinks quickly as the riders begin to flock around Genalee. Eyes narrowing, the girl edges closer to Jilian...

Fiona refrains from comment, but her lips twitch into a nervous smile. She eyes the men swarming around the goldrider and shakes her head.

Jelisa just shakes her head, sighing softly at the increasing tension. "Soon," she murmurs to either D'fit or herself or both. The hand on his arm tightens.

Jilian smiles warmly to Sydnie and slips an arm around her."It's okay, she'll only be like this temporarily."

K'tor slips past other people towards the hearth and D'fit, which brings him a bit closer to Genalee. The look trained on S'ard halts him momentarily, the empty cup in his fist, and wet towel about his hair and shoulders.

Sharia debates for only a split second on who to approach before moving towards the one safe person - greenrider. "Excuse us," she addresses Jilian. "Can you point us in the direction of your fabric stores? It's been a while since the last time I needed to be here, and I've forgotten where they are." Oh wow, she actually admits to forgetting something and needing help?

Br'den shifts uncomfortably in his chair and tugs on the ends of the towel, which drags it across his neck. He sends Genalee a wary glance - thank Faranth she hasn't noticed him yet - before yanking it away, and focusing back on his knees.

"Soon what?" D'fit wonders, raising an eyebrow at Jelisa. A grin is spread for the benefit of the people heading towards him.

Jelisa just seems a bit overwhelmed by the crowd and shakes her head, watching this way and that.

Sydnie looks up at Jilian, too curious to react to the unexpected gesture, "Is this ... is her dragon going up?" Glancing back around the area as Jilian is addressed by Sharia, she frowns at all the men with their rather odd behavior.

Jilian smiles a bit and thinks as she looks at Sharia.."Um..I believe they're back through the archway there and down the stairs, but I could be mistaken.." she nods to Sydnie.."Yeah, that'd be my guess..goldriders are a bit more...noticable..they get less practice"

Fiona toys with the end of her braid, an uncharacteristicly nervous gesture for the usually composed girl. Her gaze darts around the room before returning to the greenrider talking to Sharia.

S'ard moves a few steps closer towards the door and smiles at Genalee, "Lead the way then." Give her a wave towards the doors.

Sharia nods her thanks to the greenrider, then turns to her apprentice. "I can't believe I forgot that. Every other disgusting detail about this place is etched in my mind." A shudder goes through her body as she again regards the press of male bodies around the goldrider.

M'ton looks out to the bowl and stands up, yelling at the entrance, "Blood, don't eat you big..." He then jogs out the hallway.

M'ton walks toward the entrance hall.

K'tor's eyes glaze faintly, attention focused vaguely in Genalee's direction. Absently the empty cup is brought to his lips, and then discarded on a nearby table.

With a barely audible groan Br'den collapses in upon himself, torso folding over knees. Towel slips from his neck to puddle, ignored, upon the floor.

Fiona raises an eyebrow. "Weyrs aren't all that bad," she murmurs, barely audible, in response to Sharia's comment. Although she gives another worried glance toward the clump of riders.

Genalee seems lost now, swaying slightly and almost falling. She hugs herself tightly, trying to remain standing as she is caught in the bond with her lifemate. She tenses and cries out. "CELYNTH! Only blood!!!"

Fiona hisses in a breath and stiffens a bit as the goldrider suddenly cries out.

S'ard was stepping forward to say those exact same words, but continues to do so, "Blood only... remember... bloody only..." reaching for the goldrider, but not quite touching her.

Br'den groans again, his hands clenched into tightly balled fists. Too late, you stupid wherry... "Too late," can be heard from his tensed form.

Jelisa pushes herself to her feet, hand clutching D'fit. Yeah. Like that'll do any good. "Oh, shells, Sydnie, get over here."

Sharia shifts out of the way of a couple male riders, tugging her skirts aside as if afraid she'd catch something contagious from them. "If you can prove that to me, apprentice, I'll owe you a mark," she says harshly to Fiona. "I've seen nothing yet that indicates these riders have *any* propriety." An inclining of her head towards Genalee serves to illustrate exactly what she means.

K'tor remains silent, clouded eyes trained roughly on Genalee. Only the hoarse rasp of his breathing can be heard escaping his throat, his 'mate claiming his attention.

A flash of fire sparks momentarily in Fiona's eyes. "My *brother* is a dragonrider," she notes in a low voice to Sharia.

Br'den straightens slowly, his spine almost audibly ratcheting as the vertebrae slip into place. He closes his eyes and swallows heavily, his head turning almost of its own towards the goldrider.

Genalee half chokes out the words and she is lost to powerful emotions coursing through her veins. "Blood only, blood only...only blood." She chants over and over again, not letting herself forget, let Celynth gorge. She holds tightly to herself, as if not trusting anyone else around her.

Sydnie swings her head towards Jelisa, looking a touch surprised. Yet with a shrug, the girl is off and strolling towards the healer and rider. "Yeah?"

Sharia doesn't seem the least bit surprised by Fiona's tone, but frowns anyway. "Well since I've never met your brother, *apprentice*, I can't give an opinion on what he's like. Maybe he could be the one to change my mind." The doubting look in her eyes reveals how likely she believes this to be.

Jelisa turns, hearing the weavers words. "If you can't be respectful right now, Masterweaver, I recommend clearing out of the way. There's enough going on without that. And without riders, Thread would consume your hall. So use some respect in their homes." Her voice is cool and distant, and she motions Sydnie over toward her, faster. "Just stick with me, Syd."

D'fit has propriety! At least for someone involved in a flight. He simply sits calmly in his chair; his eyes on Genalee to assure himself that all is well on that end, and his thoughts on Tizonth, guiding the bronze in the feeding pens. He doesn't even seem to notice Jelisa, or much else.

S'ard forces his hands down to his side, fists clenching tightly. Helicks his lips, eyes fixed on Genalee.

Fiona's lips compress into a thin line and her eyes are still angry but she refrains from further comment. She knows her Craftmaster's attitude on riders all too well.

K'tor waits, frame tense, breathing already labored. He seems oblivious to anything else in the hall, save Genalee.

Sydnie steps up her pace a bit, confusion beginning to work its way into her features. She lifts her chin a notch and tries to look as if she knows what's going on, but nothing could cover up the shock in her eyes as she watches the men *staring* at Genalee like that.

Sharia spins on one heel as she's addressed by Jelisa. "That may be, Journeyman, but did I ask for your opinion? I believe I was talking to my apprentice, not you." She looks the young woman up and down. "Besides, I've had nothing but bad treatment from the riders here, and I'll give them what they deserve in return."

Genalee suddenly looks around, clear-headed for the briefest of moments. She calls out clearly, noticing who all is in the main hall. "My weyr. NOW." And she makes her way out of the hall, certain that those in the room will be able to determine who is to follow and who is to stay.

T'ren strides over to the entrance hall.
Genalee strides over to the entrance hall.
S'ard walks toward the entrance hall.
K'tor strides over to the entrance hall.
D'fit walks toward the entrance hall.

Sydnie scowls up at Sharia, having caught only the tail end of her speech. Rather than commenting, the girl merely snorts. Yet her opinion is somehow crystal clear.

Br'den shudders, his eyes closing again, then trails after Genalee and the others as if pulled by a string.

Br'den strides over to the entrance hall.

Jelisa stalks up to the woman, pulling away from the unresponsive D'fit. "You either need to leave or remain quiet," no fear in her voice at all. "They don't need those who don't understand interfering or causing fear or confusion. If you don't like this, go find a green or bluerider and head out." Voice of an experienced weyr resident. Then her gaze goes after the departing riders and she clenches her jaw.

Leia> Over the Weyr, Dryth scythes after Celynth, lean form cutting grimly through the darkening sky with all the skill of a reaper. Slipstreams. Low cunning puppets the strings beyond the furious cloud of lust that dominates brown's mind, guidance in instinct and elder example. He slips behind and to one side of Albanth, letting the Southern bronze do the work.

Leia> Over the Weyr, The fires colouring his belly seems to spread through his entire body as Javanth sweeps across the sky. A white hot golden bronze sent faster and faster across the sky with each beat of his powerful wings. A call, an enticing croon, sent to the object of his desire before him, lost in the whirling winds buffeting him from all sides.

Leia> Over the Weyr, Albanth is taken by surprise, one of the last in the air after Celynth. The smaller Southern bronze makes up for it, rapidly pumping wings to gain altitude. The thermals here have lent him one victory already, and he searches for the ones he knows, at the back of the pack, but for the moment. This comet has only begun its flight, streaking across the sky for the fleeing sun.

Sharia places her hands on her hips and just *stares* at Jelisa - it's obvious she's not used to being talked to in this manner. "I would be most happy to leave here," she says dryly, each word coming out sharp and to the point. "But unfortunately, I have work to do here. And I perfectly understand how and why riders act like this during flights. I *was* posted here when I was of your rank, Journeyman."

Sydnie scratches her head as she watches the riders leave, then looks back to Jelisa, frown tugging at her lips.

Leia> Over the Weyr, Esvorth swoops up after Celynth, near the back of the pack, pumping his wings in a near-straight line after the rising gold.

Leia> Over the Weyr, Celynth glides along, tipping to the right and then the left, finding her thermal and riding it high. She warbles with delight, not a care at all for those bronzes and browns who might make silly attempts to chase her. She is alive and free and filled with intense desire to fly and fly and never look back - not once. She lifts higher, the gilden rays of the sun glinting off her silky glowing hide. She cannot be caught, for she is like the wind, ever elusive, unable to be contained or held back. She is ever out of reach.

Jelisa eyes her for a moment. "I would remember someone with an attitude like yours *Master*," she drawls. But her whole body betrays her tension and stress and she starts to drift toward the door, as if headed outside.

Leia> Over the Weyr, Tjainth pumps his wings and gives chase to the glowing gold. He neck streatching with eyes only on the form of the fleeing gold he follows her every move.

Leia> Over the Weyr, He is bronze, hear him roar. Javanth roars loudly, one that would cause another avalache if this was still winter, but never-the-less rocks the weyr. An updraft and he soars nearly effortlessly into the sky, arrowing ever after the golden form, the sun glinting from her hide nearly blinding him with her radiance.

Sharia isn't about to let this upstart Healer get away with that, and follows her towards the door. "Well there are many here that could probably refresh your obviously mistaken memory. Probably that arrogant brownrider that dropped me off, for starters."

Jelisa turns and, coldly but distantly. "I have more important things to do then talk to a bigot like you. Excuse me."

Over the Weyr, Tizonth arrows up into the sky, bugling almost petulantly as he is forced to tear his gaze from the rapidly diminishing form of the golden queen. Instead he must concentrate on his path -- browns and bronzes seemingly as ready as he was fill the skies and make collision between all of them very likely. Not so, however, far too skilled is this young bronze. Taking a course that is not quite as steep as many of the other dragons, he is able to find a clear path quickly away from the other chasers. As he does however, Celynth slips even further into the sky, and he lets out a soft croon, one that is almost apologetic, yet full of promise and hope. Free from the entanglements of nearby dragons, he is quickly able to find a thermal in these familar skies which have been home to him for four Turns. A bronze streak soaring up into the sky, his wings beat reguarly but not swiftly

Sharia strides over from the main entrance hall.
Sydnie strides over from the main entrance hall.

Jelisa breaks out of the weyr nearly at a run, her head back as she strains toward the sky, trying to follow the flight.

Over the Weyr, Albanth aspires to her heights. After all, she is the sun! And what better way to capture the sun than to burn in her golden fire. Pine tipped pinions flash in the late afternoon sun, the friendly thermal found lending him some altitude. Quicker than some of the larger bronzes, the Southern interloper rises, the comet not yet at its apex.

Over the Weyr, We're Bronzes! and Browns in flight! We're chasing after Celynth in a flight! Tjainth, eyes only for the gold that he is chasing he follows her every move, trying t move in closer and closer to the one he hopes to make his prize.

Sharia comes stomping out the door in Jelisa's wake. "Bigot, am I?" she calls to the Healer. "Maybe I should have a talk with your Craftmaster about what sort of respect a Master deserves." Not that she's done anything to earn that respect tonight, of course.

Sydnie exits more slowly, fresh pastry in one hand, curiosity-sparked eyes on Sharia as she follows the weaver, who is following the healer.

Jelisa doesn't even acknowledge the woman that's how little she thinks of her. Instead, she pushes past the other residents crowding in the courtyard, trying to see, her face showing some distress.

Over the Weyr, Quite possibly the smallest brown in the chase, Esvorth continues to charge after the gold. A longshot at best, his determination doesn't deter the young dragon from chasing - it's perhaps the best storyline going ton.. oh, who's he kidding. Only one thought is in the brown's mind.. catching Celynth and just doing what comes naturally.

Over the Weyr, Dryth wings silently after Celynth, after Albanth. Let the larger bronze tire himself out, Dryth will be waiting. A survivor he is, and you don't survive by being hasty. Strong wings beat near-silently, carrying him towards the flowing fountain of his parched need.

Over the Weyr, Celynth slows just a bit, teasing those who try to gain on her, knowing they will never succeed. Yet, she pretends to waver slightly, perhaps from the wind which is a bit stronger this high up, after all she must keep them interested, no? She is pleased to have attention, as well she should. She knows that she is glorious in all her golden splendor and she spreads her wings wide to allow the males to appreciate her full beauty from wingtip to wingtip. When she feels they have gotten close enough, she picks up her speed. She will not tire, for she is driven by the ecstasy of freedom, of which nothing may compare.

Sharia stomps a slippered foot against the ground as Jelisa ignores her, but some of the fight seems to go out of her as her eye is caught by the flight above. She can't help but watch the elegant gold trying to evade the browns and bronzes behind her - it's just too spectacular to miss.

Over the Weyr, A pair of browns, young and inexperience, are left behind as Javanth sweeps through them, his wings ever powerful. A bugle of appreciation as the gold shows off, a croon of desire, the bronze continues his flight.

Sydnie frowns a bit disappointedly as the argument ceases, but she soon forgets that, as she finds a place to stand and nibble at her sweets. Before long, Syd's gaze goes up, up, up... and her mouth promptly drops open. "They're so ... beautiful," comes her soft murmuring, "And ... strong."

Over the Weyr, Esvorth wings upward after Celynth and only notices those dragons in front of him. The younger brown climbs higher in altitude, looking to get over those in his way and claim a better position in his chase after Celynth.

Over the Weyr, Albanth is not fooled by the Machiavellian moves of the teasing sun. Thus, no precious energy is wasted speeding to try to catch the faint waver. Instead, evergreen wingtips push air unceasingly under them, carrying the comet across the sky. The wind arrows back along his hindquarters, buffeting his long, whiplike tail out straight behind him, the perfect comet trail, ending in dusky, earthy tones. The ruddy light plays across the fire of his hide, setting it ablaze for his perfect, and as of yet still unattainable, goal.

Jelisa's body is just tense and she's whispering something under her breath, not moving.

Over the Weyr, Dryth surges forward, carefully hoarded strength exploding as the brown abandons his position behind Albanth. Knowledge of Honshu's skies enable him to pull alongside the foreign bronze and he snarls lust-driven rivalry. /His/ gold!

Over the Weyr, Celynth glistens against the horizon that begins to change, awash in pale pastels that have been blended like a painter brushing the colors on a canvas. She turns slightly, angling towards Drake's Lake and dipping a little as she glides along a new thermal. As she makes her way over the water, her image is reflected in the surface that ripples slightly from the wind. She looks so much smaller in this aquatic portrait, so high above is she, that she might be a child's toy. Looking down, she sees the colors of bronze and brown etched into the picture and she warbles, not entirely pleased now. How dare they chase her! She is meant for this glory in the skies, and it is hers alone! She'll not let them take this from her! She bugles defiantly, daring one of them to try to take her freedom from her.

Sydnie gives a little start, eyes darting quickly towards Sharia and back. Well, now, wasn't that unexpected... But Syd's far too busy grinning up at the sky to wonder about /that/. Indeed, even the pungent smells of her pastry are forgotten as she squints up at the sky, eyes riveted on the dragons as they dance, glide, and race forward, all for one goal.

Over the Weyr, More brilliant than the fading sun, more beautiful than the sunset, the lovely gold before him to catch. Javanth roars once more, wings banking to take him acros the waters. His reflection chasing him to keep up on the surface of the water. How dare he not chse her, the beauty of the weyr, at least for today.

Sharia nods her head slowly in agreement for the young girl's words, though she own attention is also captivated by the flight. "Lovely, yes," she breathes. Those closest to her might notice, if their own attention isn't on the flight, how the Weaver's eyes go from one dragon to another, as if she were committing it all to memory. <repose>

Over the Weyr, Albanth makes no sound, save for the roar of the wind over his firey wings. As he dips his head to see what attracts the queen's attention below, a sudden crosswind comes unexpectedly from the left side. The comet momentarily wavers in its flight after the sun, off course and buffeted directly towards the Honshu brown that is so incensed by his presence!

Jelisa just ignores the two others, as well as the press of people she /hadn't/ been in conversation with. Those closest can hear the small chant under her breath, "Not Tizonth, not Tizonth..."

Sharia turns slightly to keep the dragons in sight as they head out over the lake. Her fingers twitch slightly, as if she would like to be sketching the flight. "The colors, the elegance. Gah, but that'd make a perfect tapestry." All this is said softly, as she gazes raptly at the dragons.

Over the Weyr, Dryth roars in sudden alarm, a change in the wind warning him -- too late, though, for him to adjust and avoid. Bronze swings into brown side, sienna leg flailing to push off! push off! before lost in the wrapping of wings: gone the flight, while the hampered brown cries his single cry of disappointment and rage before falling, parched brown towards lake below: out of the chase.

Over the Weyr, Tizonth trumpets as the cluster of suitors passes over Drake's lake - He's flown this area countless times on sweeps, and angles himself into a stream of prevailing winds that gently riffles the treetops - and propels him towards Celynth. The dangerous cross-currents that hampered Dryth cleared, Tizonth spreads his wings wide, the sails gleaming like candlelit copper.

Over the Weyr, Dryth soars to the river meadow.

Over the Weyr, Tjainth swerves, avoiding Dryth and the other bronze, but this causes him to deviate from is intended path. he quickly looks around, spots the gold and changes course, to one that is designed, hopefully, to allow him to intesect with the gold at a point that is ahead of both of them.

Br'den staggers through the doors, fingers laced through his hair, pulling (and not gently) on the root of his problem. Face is drawn with pain and other, less pleasant emotions.

Over the Weyr, Celynth bugles again, the defiance now mixed with irritation and just the slightest tinge of concern. She sees that the males are closer now, too close for the amber Queen's comfort. She does not want to be caught, do they not understand? She sees the bronze and brown collide and is distracted, almost sending her into a bronze nearby, but she dips in time and is still allowed her moments in the lead. The setting sun sets her hide awash glowing golds as well as the colors of sunset. She is like a glittering flame darting across the sky, using all her strenth, unwilling to let herself be captured.

Jelisa's staring up at the sky, whole body tense and tight, as if waiting to run or spring or...something. She's not noticing anything at the moment.

Mosaic trills startled, at Br'den, as the brownrider nearly walks right into her, she flying up higher..

Over the Weyr, A croon of amusement echoes from Javanth as Dryth takes to the water. one more out of the race, the chase, one less that is in his way between him and his prize. Closer and closer to that flame, like a moth to a glow.

Sharia doesn't even seem to notice the brownrider's arrival, as her entire attention is focused on the distant flight. She could be a post driven solidly into the ground for all she moves.

Over the Weyr, Tizonth begins to level out, wings beating out a stattico drum against the wind as he drives ever closer towards the golden beauty he beholds. His eyes whirl brightly with purple shades, a beacon to the distant -- but slowly getting closer -- Celynth. The lake flies beneath him, he pays no heed to the fish rising to feed in the twilight below as he concentrations on the fleeing gold in the distance.

Sydnie glanes across the terrace, just catching Br'den's near-miss with the firelizard, and wrinkles her nose. What's wrong with him?

Br'den watches in anquish as Dryth wings overhead, back to their weyr. Unwillingly his gaze drags back to the just-seen Flight winging its way over the distant Lake.

Over the Weyr, Albanth swerves, just as Dryth pushes off. Wingspars really should *not* bend that way, and there is a screaming protest from the air that drives the comet as his spars cut sharply upwards, knifing the air clean in two and cutting off the draught to the Southern brown that caused the crosswind, sending him also spiraling down after Dryth. A quick flap of green-tipped wings to correct his course, and the comet is off again. But now, there are foreign bodies in the way! What is the course, to attempt to plow through, go over, or duck under? The faintly battered star chooses the latter, easier course towards the flaming sun that still beckons him.

Mosaic chitter-chatters at those on the terrace, flicking her tail once in admonition... as if to say 'watch where yer goin' and swerves to perch somewhere above the human -things.

Over the Weyr, Celynth makes a valient attempt to lose those that wish to end her journey so abruptly, before she is ready. She knows what they desire and she struggles to dredge up every last reserve she has to postpone the inevitable. Citrine wings beat with her fierce determination, as she gives all her strenth to this one task. Gliding along a thermal, it is clear the pursuers are closing in and she looks behind, snarling, warning them off. She climbs, hoping that height alone might thwart their any attempts to ensnare her.

Br'den's steps take him across the terrace, towards the little knot of people. He steps up behind one in particular, hand reaching out (but not touching - he shows that much restraint, at least) for her arm. As if torn from parched throat comes a single word. "Jelisa..."

Over the Weyr, No arrow could fly so true as Javanth sweeps directly after the gold. He moves closer and closer, and closer still, and finds himself under the object of his desire. He croons softly, enticingly.

Over the Weyr, Tizonth quickly, deftly, turns his speed to his advantage, using it to help him gain height as he surges up after Celynth. He's moving now entirely under his own power, without the use of the thermal that helped the gold as it disappears beneath his wings. He doesn't let that stop him though as he speeds throught he skies, twisting so as to brush her with his wing and entangle her.

Sharia starts as the brownrider utters the Healer's name. She quickly moves to one side, only briefly taking her eyes from the flight to be sure she doesn't trip over anything.

Jelisa's head turns just slightly, only half-torn from the spectacle that is barely visible. Her brown gaze widens suddenly and she manages a startled "Br'den?" Her eyes still dart back and forth, between rider and flight, waiting, hoping...

Over the Weyr, Albanth, below the pack, has obviously misjudged the wiley sun. Still, his star yearns so for hers! With every last bit of strength lent by his fired ichor, the smaller Southern bronze snaps out wings, a quick, climbing turn of almost ninety degrees, an unlooked for thermal pushing him up in a position to make an attempt. The comet's tail streams out, dusky tones searching desperately for citrine ones, in a last ditch attempt to bury himself in the golden inferno that claims so many tonight.

Over the Weyr, Tjainth closes in on the gold. Hey, she is just about where he planned on intercepting her. Wow, imagine that! His wings give a couple finel pumps and he streatches out and attempts to entangle the girl of his dreams.

Sydnie is doing her best to watch the dragons above, and Br'den and Jelisa across the terrace. Of course, the girl can only watch one at a time, and so her gaze flicks back and forth between the two, blue eyes shining faintly.

Aeliana strides over from the main entrance hall.

Br'den, almost shaking, closes his hand around Jelisa's arm, just above the elbow. "Jelisa..." he rasps again, intense.

Aeliana exits the doors quickly and quietly, her eyes not going immediately to the skies, but instead toward where the green firelizard has perched above. She breathes out what must be a sigh of relief, one hand going to wave at the little flit. The green does not come down, but Aeli now sees the flight... "Oh..." is all she says, not seeming to really see the others here.

Jelisa has a swift intake of breath at the touch--make that /clutch/ of the young brownrider. "Br'den...that...." Her protests are half-hearted, her eyes still half-turned toward the sky, her own body shaking a bit.

Over the Weyr, Celynth comes so close, too close to being caught, yet she deftly manages to glide away from the brown. She warbles with mirth, thrilled with her skill and the knowledge that she is free, she is like the sun, that roams the sky and cannot be entanged. Yet just as she is safe from the brown who wishes have her, she sends herself right into Tizonth. A desperate bugle can be heard as she realizes what as happened and she struggles for a moment to win free. It lasts only for a moment, and then she is Tizonth's, a croon so sweet and pure escaping as she entwines her tail and neck with his.

Jelisa's heart almost visibly breaks and her knees crumble just slightly. Seems she knows the bronze even from a distance. Br'den's grip them becomes a support, as tears stream down her face.

Over the Weyr, Tizonth begins to croon softly in harmony as he twines with Celynth. He spreads his wings out, causing an audible *snap* with the sudden thrust of air. Wingsails strain to hold the sudden pressure they are subjected to as he slowly begins to lose his speed, and consequently, gains more control over his and Celynth's flight together.

Sharia sucks in a breath as the flight comes to its conclusion, eyes widening at the spectacle. "Oh my," she whispers, voice catching in her throat before she tears her gaze away. Her face is pale as she stands there, shivering with what might be cold, but is more likely reaction to the entire situation.

Over the Weyr, Albanth veers off, silent disappointment and frustration clear. The comet will have to quench his fire elsewhere. And right now, that lake looks terribly appealing. He folds his wings, dropping back abruptly, and then glides down to the lake below.

Over the Weyr, Albanth flies toward the sky over Drake's Lake.

Aeliana sighs yet again as the flight is over so soon... just as she arrives. But at least Mosaic comes floating down to land upon her shoulder, and then her eyes catch upon Jelisa as she realizes just what is happening... frozen she stands, not sure what to do.

K'tor walks over from the main entrance hall.

Over the Weyr, Javanth soars to the sky over the weyr cliffside.

Br'den's other arm grabs to catch her - one catch this night, he -will- make! Oddly gently for the emotions surging through him he catches her, folds her to his chest. No words are spoken, none appropriate for the evening's emotional wrenching.

Over the Weyr, Tjainth pulls closer and closer and .. .OVERSHOOTS!!!! he warbles and soars down and down adn away.

K'tor staggers out, clearly flight drunk, though still looking for his beast.

Sydnie nearly drops her pastry as she watches the catch, unable to keep in a soft breath of awe. But then, her gaze is on Jelisa the next moment, eyes reflecting concern and another bit of confusion for a few moments. And then, finally, comes a bit of surprised realization.

Over the Weyr, Tjainth flies toward the river meadow.

Aeliana, in a moment of indecision, backs away from the entire group... just in time. She misses slamming right into K'tor by a few feet and has the solid wall of the weyr for support, which she gladly leans upon.

Jelisa's crumpled up against Br'den, weeping as if someone has just died. Her arms encircle the brownrider and she actually clings to him, since he's the only thing keeping her upright.

Sharia can't seem to decide where to look, now that the flight is over. A slight frown is givin to brownrider and healer, but the wonder she's seen over the last candlemark or so seems to recapture her and she shakes her head quickly, likely trying to dispel the afterimages of dragon against sky.

K'tor gives Aeliana a distracted look. Enough to note: female. Female good. And there. There's another one. Distracted attention veers in the Craftmaster's direction.

Sharia doesn't notice the Southern Weyr bronzerider's look focusing on her, as she shoots another glance to the pair of dragons entwined together as they glide through the skies.

Over the Weyr, Esvorth soars to the terrace.
Esvorth soars over from the sky over the center of Honshu Weyr.

Though Br'den is mostly concerned with keeping Jelisa as close to him as possible -- oh yeah. And standing. Standing's good too -- his eyes focus on K'tor's swaggering form. His lips curl slightly and he shifts, trying to keep himself between Jelisa and K'tor.

Over the Weyr, Kendath soars over from the sky over the center of Honshu Weyr.
Over the Weyr, Kendath flies toward the terrace.
Kendath flies over from the sky over the center of Honshu Weyr.

Sydnie licks her lips as she continues to watch Jelisa, expression caught between sympathy and some ineffable *other* feeling... with but a hint of the expected scorn. And finally, the girl lifts one hand to her head, eyes wide, and begins stepping backwards, overwhelming confusion winning over.

M'ton strides over from the main entrance hall.

Jelisa doesn't really appear to care at this point, still just sobbing. Then she sniffles a bit, lifting her head. "Can we go get drunk?" she manages, voice hoarse. Her face is a bit blotchy at this point, tear-streaked.

K'tor is more close to staggering at the moment. Body follows attention, and he heads towards the Craftmaster. Vaguely himself, he steps before her and captures her hand in strong tanned ones. An oddly tender, oddly restrained - considering the flight he'd just been through - kiss is placed to the bck of Sharia's hand, gray eyes lifting to hers and mutely beseeching.

Br'den growls, "Not -yet-." He leads Jelisa over towards the Craftmaster, steadies her, then snarls, "You!"

M'ton simply collapses against Esvorth in exhaustion.

Gwendolen dismounts Kendath with one last affectionate caress, sliding down until at last her feet contact the ground.

Jelisa has no idea at all what the brownrider, Br'den, is up to, staring at him in confusion, a few tears still streaking down her face.

Gwendolen surveys the scene she's arrived upon with shadowed brown eyes, staying near to Kendath.

Sharia's jaw drops as K'tor's form intercepts her line of sight. When he catches, and kisses, her hand, all she can do is stand there gaping at him for several heartbeats. Suddenly she seems to recall where she is and what he is, and jerks her hand from his grasp. Something completely different from disgust floats through her eyes, however.

Aeliana watches this while thing with a mixture of distaste, disdain and ... surprise? ... whatever it is that she dislikes, the bluerider heads quickly through the doors, the green on her shoulder giving a startled trill.

Aeliana strides over to the main entrance hall of Honshu Weyr.

K'tor's attention is dragged reluctantly away from Sharia, likely more to do with the hand pulling roughly away than the demand for attention at his shoulder from Br'den. He can only manage a confused and dazed, "What?" That craftmaster is far more important here....

Clutching Jelisa with dragon-induced desperation, Br'den's fist lashes out, all of his repressed emotions finding their outlet in one single, perfect target: K'tor's smirking face.

Jelisa snaps back into a more aware state, taking a few forceful steps back away from the Southern bronzerider, trying to pull Br'den with her. "Br'den! Stop that! Now! Stop!" The healer's voice has a shrill edge to it.

Gwendolen's eyes fly wide at the act of aggression, and her voice barks out, as very few people have born witness too, "Br'den, up to my weyr right now." Kendath's eyes blaze orange.

K'tor is still too dazed to attempt any but the most halfhearted of dodges. As a result, the blow spares the nose, which looks like it's already been the recepient of such indignaties, an lands squarely in the Southern bronzer's left eye. Kat goes sprawling at Sharia's feet.

Sydnie blinks rapidly, hand falling from her head to her mouth in surprise. "What...?"

Br'den reluctantly steps away from the carnage at Jelisa's pleading, his smoldering eyes reluctantly leaving the form of his fallen foe (Take that! Hah!) to traverse over to Gwendolen. First her feet, then knees and hips, lingering over her torso until finally forebrain clubs animal impulses into awareness. "G.. Gwen?"

Jelisa gives Gwen a sharp look. "I can get him out of here, Gwen," she says softly, sense back in her features.

Gwendolen's voice is pure fury as she adds, "Jelisa, see to it that our guest is alright. Br'den, move, now, unless you and Dryth intend to be grounded into the next interval."

Sharia jumps almost out of her skin at the goldrider's tone, for some reason briefly looking like a child caught with her hand in the cookie jar. Once she realizes she's not the target of the weyrwoman's wrath, she glares at Br'den. With a muttered oath, she squats down to the fallen K'tor's side, concern actually apparent in her eyes.

Br'den takes one slow step backwards, one arm still around Jelisa's waist, though almost lightly. Uh-oh... "Y... Your weyr?" She probably doesn't mean it like Genalee's meant it, these last few days.

Jelisa's sigh is heavy and she kneels by the southerner, pulling away from Br'den. "K'tor, is it? You all right?" As much s he can be at least? The healer just stares at him.

Sydnie shakes her head, not believing what she's just seen. How stupid... And she stil feels a little bit... funny, too. Frowning, almost pouting really, Syd pivots abruptly and heads back towards the doors. She's had enough for one day.

Sydnie strides over to the main entrance hall of Honshu Weyr.

Br'den blinks after Jelisa, kneeling at the side of his fallen foe, then at Gwendolen. Flight-sozzled senses stir sluggishly, sending out diverse alarums. Danger! Danger! He reaches up to pull at his hair, eyes going once more to Jelisa before he turns, stalking after Sydnie (and, one hopes, up to Gwendolen's Weyr).

Br'den strides over to the main entrance hall of Honshu Weyr.

K'tor looks fuzzily up at Jelisa, and then up at... Sharia. She's the one he wanted to see in all this. The eye is already swelling, but it doesn't look like anything's broken. "I'm fine. Long as you're okay, craftmaster?"

Gwendolen does not snap lightly, and the lack of action on Br'den's part is not precisely sating her anger. "Is there some part of my order that I am not making absolutely clear, brownrider?" As he begins to head off, she turns to tell K'tor, "I apologize for this incident, and hope it will not deter you from coming again." Her words are rather perfunctory, and then she's off after Br'den.

Dryth has arrived.

Over the Weyr, Albanth flies over from the sky over Drake's Lake.

Jelisa throws her hand up in almost disgust. "He's fine, Gwen!" she calls. Then she just sits there, alone, tears streaming down her face again. Poor thing. Pushing up, she makes her way toward the hall, covering her mouth with her hand.

M'ton climbs up onto Esvorth skillfully, using the brown's foreleg.
Esvorth flies toward the sky over the center of Honshu Weyr.
Over the Weyr, Esvorth soars over from the terrace.
Over the Weyr, Albanth flies toward the terrace.
Albanth flies over from the sky over the center of Honshu Weyr.

You walk over to the main entrance hall of Honshu Weyr.
You walk over to the archway leading to the main hall.

Honshu Weyr Main Hall(#151RJs$)

Jelisa heads straight for the liquor casks, pouring herself a large mug of ale. You only drink ale when trying to get drunk right? Probably, since she starts to chug it, pushing past one or two brownriders as she does.

Aeliana rubs her arms as she heads for a table, her eyes focused on nothing in particular. And she sits, head cradled atop her hands.

Jelisa finishes that one mug of ale and wades into the brown and bronze fray to get herself a second one. Then she retreats to a table, alternating sipping her ale and rubbing at tear stained cheeks.