D'ney Logs: When Things Go Wrong

The following is a log of roleplay on Star Stones MOO, logged by D'ney.
All references to the world and characters of Pern™ based on Anne McCaffrey's fiction are copyright© 1967 by Anne McCaffrey, all rights reserved. The Dragonriders of Pern® is registered U.S. Patent and Trademark Office, by Anne McCaffrey and used here with permission.

(Nhaeth) Olexath sees: Nhaeth trickles sly droplets into consciousness's very
edge, through the faint stars. << Have you ever touched the sky? >>

(Nhaeth) [-] Olexath is quiet, not quite responding for several moments.
Finally his deep voice rumbles across the silence, copper at the very edges
of his voice. << I've had it carress my wings. Have you ever touched it? >>

(Nhaeth) Olexath sees: Nhaeth notes the beauty of the expanse today, stray
wistful threads twining unto each other. << No. >> And diffidently, even as
he images the /special/ today-sky to you, << Can we ... try? >>

(Nhaeth) Nhaeth is sitting with his tail coiled, its tip just resting against
one paw as his roving, glowing orbs rest momentarily on his clutchmate blue.

Main Living Cavern

The careless glitter of rose quartz reflects and refracts the light from
within its bed of granite, each beam bringing a new shifting, a new subtlty
of sight. Rows of long trestle table are seated in orderly awareness under
the carven vault of the ceiling, centered around a great dais upon which sits
the best-made one; this, too, shows the roughness of the others, but a
roughness smoothed by time, and accented by the complexity of beams that show
Turns-taken tesselation in their upward arch. Neither tapestries nor
coverings mar the marbling of wild beauty, leaving unadorned grandeur that in
naturalistic simplicity provides comfort to the occupants of the cavern.
One archway, the only covered by a drape of black and gold, shields the
entrance to the bowl from the blow of sand; another, almost unobtrusive,
marks the entrance to the lower caverns through a short, winding and
uncarefully-carved tunnel.

Perched somewhere up high, you see Ojo, Bromie, and Fimble.
You see Rushweed Basket, Ierie, and Canyon here.
Megami and Kananio are here.
From here you can go:
Kitchens Lower Caverns
Bowl Infirmary

The current weather report:
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------
IgenW: Center Bowl Area (#5491)
There's a chill wind, rising slowly and lifting dust into a haze that begins
to block out the stars. They're tiny pinpricks through the vast canopy of
night, seen in remembrance as much as in true sight of the otherwise clear
night. Belior is three-quarters full and Timor is slightly more than half
full. It is a summer night.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

(Nhaeth) [-] Olexath slips across with his deep bass of a voice. Copper
nearly taking over the greys. << Perhaps, we can. Though, it's rather ...
high. >>

Halis walks with the usual spring in her step in from NorthWest Bowl.

(Nhaeth) Olexath is wandering about looking sparklie, still not wanting to
take his straps off. Now and then a glance goes up before it goes back over
to Nhaeth.

(Nhaeth) Olexath sees: Nhaeth puts out a visionary talon to swipe the mist
away, to reveal the glittering ether beyond. Of course, the picture shimmers
and fades, with a tremor of uncertainty also embodied in his crisp, tangy
voice. <>

(Nhaeth) [-] Olexath rumbles happily. << My Halis has seen beyond the clouds
with some sorta distance thing. She says it's very pretty. >> He sends over
images, flickering from one to the other rapidly. Planets and stars in
bright metalic colors against the dark backdrop.

Halis wanders on into the room, a little sigh floating from her lips as she
makes her way towards the klah. Betha's words of warning have been worrying
her enough that she hasn't been sleeping well. Staying up at all hours to
study the manual incase she really is quizzed sometime.<re for d'ndy>

(Nhaeth) Olexath sees: Nhaeth wonders, wanders, wonders some more. << What
are the red things? And the blackness? >> Dread passes on, passes by,
mingled with rider's irritation. <>

(Nhaeth) [-] Olexath lets his thoughts slip away to Halis for a moment before
responding to his clutchmate. << She says that those are stars and other
planets. Like here. And the blackness is .... space. It surrounds all of
us. >> He's quiet once more before rumbling across. << She says we cannot
take the stars down. But that the miners have some rocks that are like them.
Sparklie. >> Mind thoughts then get rather excited as he brings something up
to Halis.

D'ney strides in with purposeful energy, lips pursed, eyes aflare. She passes
on, through the rows of tables, onto the weyrlings' section of the Cavern,
fingers tipping towards her head in mock-salute to Halis. And whoever else
is unlucky enough to be spotted by her.

D'ney
Short, slightly gaunt around the edges, this adolescent bears Igen's glare in
the burnt brownness of her skin. Uncertain growth has worked away the
childish plumpness from the avid angles of nose and chin, further accenting
pinched features with their harsh planes and abrupt peaks. Below forehead's
darkness, a primal acidity informs her hazel eyes, restrained by stubborn
mahogany curls -- but flaring inevitably into the compact rebellion of a
muscled shape and habitually agile motion.
A golden-yellow linen tunic drapes from her shoulders, straggling under a
thick jet belt at the waist and falling nearly to her hips. The trousers of
black linen are similarly buckled in to keep the outfit snug against the
hazards of adolescent frolic, its hems disppearing into a pair of
extra-polished wherhide boots.
Double cords of maize and jet intertwine in a single, simple loop, wrapped
with a brown sisal ribbon, to denote her rank as an Igen Weyr Junior
Weyrling, rider of Nhaeth.
She is awake and looks alert.
Carrying:
Rip
[15 Turns, 11 Months, and 19 Days]

(Nhaeth) Olexath sees: Nhaeth shares the crossness for a heartbeat before
dusting it cautiously away. << Are you sure we cannot take them down? I
want to try. Come on, go with me. Your lifemate will not mind. >> For this
is a Guy-Thing, after all. Imagination conjures up a plethora of rock-stars,
spread out before and beneath.

Halis blinks over at D'ney as she manages to lift her head from the table,
"Why're you grumpy /this/ time D'ney?" She takes a long sip of her klah
while watching D'ney.

Megami has disconnected.

Kananio remains practically glued to the wall that is the lip of the tunnel
separating the lower caverns from the main. He has one hand on his back, the
most awkward way, and one hand on the wall; on top of that, he's fearfully
eyeing everyone and everything that moves. Deciding that no one heard his
unfortunate mishap with a jagged piece and his tunic/shirt, he begins to back
slowly away. The -- loud -- grumblings of his stomach directly disagree with
this decision, however, and with a very quiet and resigned sigh, the overly
timid boy begins his trek, again, towards the foodstuffs that may be out.

(Nhaeth) [-] Olexath returns his attention to his clutchmate, flicking his
thoughts across happily. << My Halis says I can get a sparklie blue rock or
two on my straps. Wouldn't that be wonderful? >> Oh wait, he was asked a
question.... << I'm sure that we cannot. My Halis is already mad at me and
is under watch by the grumpy people. >>

D'ney is always grumpy. Or not, as the wave of her hand Halis-wards might
just indicate. "Hey," so goes the grunt, "I thought you were asleep. Nhaeth
said he was talking to Lex." And she pauses, ominously, drifting inward for
a brief moment. "--He still is, actually. Think I forgot to get dinner,
though." Kananio isn't noticed by this weyrling, but a passing drudge does
shoot him a rather weird look.

Kananio grabs the food he was aiming for with a rapid snatch, setting it on
the palm of his hand and actually relaxing a smidgen. For a second. Noting
the drudge's look, he blushes furiously, turns tail and runs back up into the
lower caverns.

Kananio has disconnected.

Halis smirks at D'ney and nods, "I kinda sorta was. But I'm not /that/ worn
out. Been up all night reading the manual. Betha's kind of mad at me." She
wrinkles her nose a bit and then nods, "Yeah, they're talking about rocks or
something. So why're you grumpy?"

(Nhaeth) Olexath sees: Nhaeth peers up towards the elusive stars, sharing the
thoughts that return. << Oh, my D'ney is very happy about this. >> He will
latch onto the jewels then, looping his mind's river around them. << Perhaps
we can ask a crafter about these sparklies. >>
(Nhaeth) Olexath sees: Nhaeth didn't mean /very/ happy, he meant /not/ happy.

D'ney says, as a child might do, pertly, petulantly. "But--I'm--not." She
proceeds to hitch her boot up on the chair, but thinks better of it and puts
it back down almost immediately. "I don't read much. Even /he/ likes it
better than I do."

(Nhaeth) [-] Olexath would smirk if he could. Instead he just slips a little
of the smirk into his bass. << My Halis wouldn't be happy if we tried. But
if we can get sparkles on our straps she would be very happy. >> Voice goes
silent for a moment before returning with an excited tint of gold to the
edges. << She says that when we can leave the weyr, she will take us to see
the woman who is incharge of the starcrafters! She can explain the stars to
us. >>

Halis smirks a bit, "It's a punishment for me." What? The perfect little
'ling is being punished for something? Yuppers. She continues after a sip
of klah, "Betha is punishing me for that night I blew up at her. She might
give me a pop quiz at any given moment and I have to know the answer. Even
if we haven't covered it yet." Ew.

Screech wakes up from his nap.

(Nhaeth) Olexath sees: Nhaeth catches onto that next idea with an internal
flash of pure light. Not darkness, mind you. Light. <>

(Nhaeth) [-] Olexath allows his greys to return to their normal dullness as he
tries to calm himself down. << My Halis says that we can't go yet. We
might get caught in a draft of wind and that would be bad. >>

Echo skulks in from NorthWest Bowl.

D'ney mutters, under her breath, then shakes her head to cover it up. "Like
what about?" Maybe she could learn something here. "That's what you get for
arguing with the weyrlingmasters. I don't do that." Snort. She settles,
more firmly than before, into that chair at the weyrling table.

(Nhaeth) Olexath sees: Nhaeth enjoys the blast of calm coolness, echoing your
blues in his baked siennas. <> In the background, a not-quite yelling lifemate looms.

Echo continues her act of 'don't look at the weyrling,' as she slinks through
the doorway, and along the wall. Food itself -- or sweets, at least -- is
ignored as she flops into a chair at one of the wing tables. Probably the
wingleader's chair, just becaue she doesn't care enough to avoid it.

(Nhaeth) [-] Olexath lets his voice be tinted with metalic slivers of blue.
<< We can fly around the weyr. But my Halis says that's all. >>

Halis shrugs a bit, "About anything in the books. Anything!" She's not happy
about that you see. She then spots Echo and waves in that direction, "Ello
Echo." Great, yet another grumpy 'ling. Great. Perhaps Halis can ungrump
one of them. Ooo, bad thoughts, go away. Away bad thoughts.

Fatima wakes up from her nap.

(Nhaeth) Olexath sees: Nhaeth is tactful enough not to snort or anything, but
he does dribble a tint of scorn into lavender-clad empathy. << Flying around
is not enough. I would rather not. Maybe when your mate is all right we can
try-- >>

Echo cringes, and puts on enough of an anti-frown in order to wave back
without it looking like a death threat. "Hey, Halis." D'ney gets a nod, too,
just so the greenrider doesn't have to be wavd at again.

D'ney doesn't try to look, but peripheral vision might just glimpse those
furtive movements. "Hey," she calls out, returning nod with nod. She tries
to pin it down with Halis. "Like what? Which wing D'sot is in?"

(Nhaeth) [-] Olexath lets concern slip into his voice. << What's wrong with
my Halis? I can't tell anything's -- >> He stops abruptly and then his
voice rumbles over with amusement. << We can soar high above the weyr but
cann't leave it's protection. My Halis will not budge on this. >> He then
turns his attention to teasing his rider.

Halis smirks at D'ney and shakes her head, "Like the stuff in the manual.
Dragon anatomy, wing formations, betweening, mating flights. Stuff like
that." Gaze goes to Echo again, "Come join us." Smile slips into place just
to be pleasant while she sips at her klah.

(Nhaeth) Olexath sees: Nhaeth voices, patiently. << When Halis is all right
with this plan, can we try it? >>

(Nhaeth) [-] Olexath lets his voice quiet while he considers this. << I'm not
sure when she will be ok with it. But she says that some day soon we can go.
You, me, and our riders. We can explore on the way there. >>

"I'd rather not," Echo calls across the cavern. An attention-seeking hint of
Sulk almost-hides in her refusal.

D'ney glances down at the seat beside her. And again. "Manual stuff, oh,"
she utters to Halis, nonchalance itself. "I'm fine with it so long as they
don't ask /me/." She swivels the chair the other way, to a direction that
doesn't face Echo, preparatory to getting up.

Halis shrugs at Echo, "Suit yourself." Gaze then returns to D'ney, "Long as
you stay out of trouble I don't think you'll have to."

Vishnei has connected.

Echo does suit herself. She creeps to the edge of her chair with a listening
ear, though, aimed at the interchange between fellow weyrlings.

(Nhaeth) Olexath sees: Nhaeth puts in gruff approval. Joy. << Have you
heard any Ballads? >> Music sifts through, sieved by blind headknobs, taking
on the tune of an ancient ditty.

As Echo sits, D'ney gets up and trots to the platters, ostensibly for dinner.
"Have to get food," is the explanation she tosses backwards. Idly, "Are
there bubblies today?"

Echo
Steel-whipped gray glitters tempestuously in the glint of almond-shaped
eyes--they narrow gracefully beneath arched brows, and set a feline sort of
regality to her chiseled features. Beauty is a fickle thing, and there's none
of the classic sort to here...merely strong, strong character to etch a
jutting jaw and set of wry-twisted lips. No beak for a nose, but a ski-jump
slope, and high cheekbones set the trend for her lack of much spare flesh.
Wild, wild raven then coils in tumbled curls, a torrent flooding as far as
her shoulder blades, untamed and messy at near any time...that completes the
rather short portrait of this skinny, graceful girl.
Golden-yellow linen tunic drapes from her shoulders, belted with a simple
black wherhide belt. Black linen trousers tuck into sturdy boots of polished
wher-hide.
Double cords of maize and jet intertwine in a single, simple loop, wrapped
with a Kezasuth-colored sisal ribbon, flagging her as an Igen Weyr Junior
Weyrling.
Spindly grace names her somewhere sixteen-ish.
She is awake, but has been staring off into space for 4 minutes.
Carrying:
Echo's Wingleader's Guide
She reeks faintly of mucking duty. Ick.

(Nhaeth) [-] Olexath is glad the plan meets approval. He burbles a negative
to the ballads. << No, I haven't. My Halis can't really sing so we don't do
that often. But I did get to smell wonderful things baking. >> He sends
along the smells of bread and various pastries baking. Their rich aroma
mixing with wonderful smells of burning wood.

Halis nods at D'ney, "Yup. Though they're not the best today. Try the roast
herdbeast though. It's good." Yup. Meat good. More klah gets sipped as
the 'ling glances around the room idily. As Olexath gets into her head with
his smells of food she wrinkles her nose and calls to D'ney, "Could you get
me a coupla rolls while you're up?" She puts the cute look on her face and
adds, "Please?"

Vishnei was apparently dozing in his little corner of the caverns, but is
awakened by the sound of voices. Blinking to clear his sepia eyes, he sits up
in his chair with a soft yawn, and, stretching, looks around. "Hullo," he
extends in a mild-mannered greeting to all, smiling amiably.

Echo stands up for her bubblies, even if not literally. "/I/ liked the ones
today." She, however, would down anything that had even a small trace of
fructose.

(Nhaeth) Olexath sees: Nhaeth fluxes from singing to baking with one
effortless, if mindful, leap. << Nice smells. I have not tried these
things. >> Scarlets pursue the sounds, sights and smells; squirreling them
away gleefully.

(Nhaeth) Halaith wakes up from her nap.

(Nhaeth) [-] Olexath lets the smells fade slowly, happily burbling. <> The hot metalic scent of blood oooozes over the link,
coating everything in a deep red copper color.

D'ney stands at the tables, piling on the pies and the rolls with speed.
"Sure, was going to get some myself," she calls back, back turned to them.
Which facilitates a sly gobbling of a bubbly or two. Mumble. "They aren't
too bad."

(Nhaeth) Olexath sees: Nhaeth tangents on, to the fresh, refreshing scents of
the sky in the morning and that at night -- tangled with the faceted tapestry
of a rider and dragon roaming the width of the air.

Halis shrugs a bit, "No, they're not tooo bad, but they're not the best that
they've had. And thanks much D'ney." Vishnei gets a smile and a wave, "Ello
to you as well." She wrinkles her nose a bit and finishes off her klah
before yawning again. "I've really got to stop staying up so late."

Vishnei gets out of his chair, slowly, and walks over to the table, pouring
himself a cup of klah. "I'm Vishnei, by the way," he offers, in a plodding,
mellow tone, a good-natured expression generally inhabiting his whole.
"Fairly new here," he elaborates for the sake of the other three.

(Nhaeth) [-] Olexath lets the scents wash over him, returning with his own of
fresh flowers in the dawn. Sunlight washing over it all giving it a freshly
washed and hung in the sunlight to dry scent. A light breeze blows the
scents of wildflowers further across the link.

Vishnei
Sand-brown hair with gravity-defying bangs hangs coarsely cut yet charmingly
tousled upon this young man's poised head. Dusky bronze sweeps across his
tanned toned body, a body that stands just a little taller than average on a
strong, capable frame. Sienna eyes blaze deep set in a gritty face, framed by
thick black lashes above a straight-bridged nose and thin lips, and a defined
jaw lightly touched by 2 day stubble.
Strappy weyrhide sandals coil snakelike up Vish's calves to introduce baggy
khaki trous cut ragged at the knee. He wears a skimpy white undertunic that
covers so little it seems useless underneath a tanned gold-brown weyrhide
coat which, though the sleeves are a bit too long, fits him quite well about
the shoulders and the waist.

He is awake, but has been staring off into space for a minute.

Vishnei just looked at you.

Thrawn wakes up from his nap.

(Nhaeth) Olexath sees: Nhaeth attempts to locate the source, sending a
curious funnel across the vibrating link. << Where? >>

(Nhaeth) [-] Olexath sends images in black and white, a few flowers dotted
with bits of metalic light. << Out in the foothills. We walked there with
one of the older riders. Couldn't fly over the lip of the bowl. >>

(Nhaeth) Olexath sees: Nhaeth has seen those flowers, in dreams and misty
images as dusky as their owner. He fiddles through the meld, dancing amongst
the sweet smells and the -- eww -- trundlebugs. << Those are the ones that
grow quickly? I thought they did not smell /so/ nice. >>

D'ney takes some time to return to the table, what with the plateload hiding
half of her face from view, leaving blinking hazel eyes to navigate the
boyish 'ling through the maze of late-night weyrfolk and tables and chairs.
In passing, a nod goes to Vishnei, head craning slightly to spy the young man
and his knot: "Hello -- you a crafter?"

(Nhaeth) [-] Olexath may be overdoing it a little bit, but it's what he does
with smells. << That's how they smell to me. And they look wonderful too.
Bobbing in the wind. >>

Echo has disconnected.

Vishnei shakes his shaggy head, a smile hanging goofy and lopsided on his
face. "No'm," he says. "Just a regular old weyrfolk, getting to know the
place and all. You know." He turns his head to one side, eyes gleaming with
cheerful light. "You though, you're a dragonrider," he nods at her knot.
"That's gotta be pretty special."

Halis nearly gasps but holds it incheck as Vishnei sits at the 'ling's table.
That's nearly unheard of you see. She smiles though and then hops up to move
chairs out of D'ney's way. Wouldn't want to spill any of those wonderful
treats. Hearing Vishnei's comment she giggles slightly, "I'm one too ya
know." She doesn't say anymore on the subject though while Olexath bothers
her with his thoughts, teasing her again.

Thrawn rustles his wings irritably and turns malevolently whirling eyes redly
upon the occupants of the living caverns, resting briefly on M'iah before
rolling on to Vishnei and then to Halis. All pay homage to the imperial
firelizard.

(Nhaeth) Olexath sees: Nhaeth soaks it up like a hungry canine, peering in on
your flowers.

OOC: Halis says, "ummm, thrawn, m'iah's not in the room :O)"

Thrawn glares especially long at Halis, whirling eyes settling accusingly upon
the lowly 'ling. If 'lizards could talk...

(Nhaeth) [-] Olexath lets the image slowly fade and replaces it with his deep
voice. << You should take your D'ney out there sometime. It is wonderful
just after the sun rises, and just before it sets. >>

D'ney corrects, attentively: "Weyrling, we're still weyrlings. Can't fly
far." As she lowers the plateful, a concession is added, "But it is special.
Different, of course, and sometimes sharding annoying." Thrawn's glare is
ignored, save for the look flicked at it.

Vishnei raises an eyebrow at Halis. "Then I'm incredibly intimidated, miss,"
he says with a quick-flashing grin, though his voice never wavers from its
monotone, comfortable stability. "Hope you don't mind me sitting with you two
nice ladies-err...riders." He blinks steadily at D'ney. "Annoying how?" He's
really interested.

Halis giggles at Vishney and sticks her tongue out at D'ney, "We ride them
don't we? Weyrling is just a silly title." Wink goes to Vish even if he is
a silly floppy boy. Moving on, "And no, I don't think we mind. It's always
nice to see other people." She reaches over to snag a roll or three and
begins to break one up into nice little pieces. Thrawn is ignored by the
sparklie one as well for a while. But the lingering glare makes her blink a
bit questioningly.

(Nhaeth) Olexath sees: Nhaeth agrees. << Good idea. I will do that one day.
>> But there's regret too, and a sense of loss for the too-fallible memory
of his. << Maybe today, later today, when she rides me, and I am not so
sleepy. >>

(Nhaeth) [-] Olexath rumbles a slight warning. << It has to be at those
particular times of day. Or it'll be too hot and it won't smell as good. >>

Thrawn rumbles in evil amusement as he notes the effect his red-eyed stare is
having...

Oh, titles mean quite a lot to D'ney, who quirks her lips at Halis'
cheekiness. "They're in our heads all the time, you know, and sometimes your
dragon--" Breath. "--does things you don't like. Like wanting to smell
flowers." A bubbly is nibbled at; she'll just pretend he didn't make that
mistake and glare at Halis instead.

Thrawn /never/ wants to sniff flowers. Ever.

Vishnei glances towards Thrawn, unfazed. "Still," continues Vish, in his
not-very-insistent tone of voice. "It must be wonderful to have someone
always there for you, isn't it?" He shuffles his feet. "I mean, not that I
know a whole lot about it." He picks up his klah mug and sips from it. Then
he smiles warmly at Halis. "Good. I like meeting new people too. And new
places. New things in general are just great."

Halis nearly spits out a bit of roll at D'ney's words, "He's still talking to
Olexath isn't he D'ney? Sorry bout that." She winks and then turns her
attention back to Vish, "Aye it is. You sound like my Olexath. He's always
wanting to meet new people and do new things."

Megami has connected.

D'ney persists in her opinion, the unwavering kind that simply chugs along as
the speaker chews on yet another pie with the corners of her mouth. "The
mark turns both ways, Vishnei," says she in a growl's tone, "You have someone
there for you but we also get a lot of extra work and, and-- more work." A
third bubbly is snagged with a grubby paw. "Which I have to get back to,
Halis, before they start talking about something else." Eyes roll.

Halis giggles at D'ney and nods, "You know they'll keep talking regardless.
I'll see some of my mining friends about those 'sparklies'." She winks,
slipping in some of her blue's words for gemstones before returning her
attention to Vish, "Don't mind her. She tends to be a little grumpy about
having to do all the work. It really isn't all that bad."

Vishnei shrugs his bony shoulders good-naturedly. "Aww, well, I don't know. I
always kind of liked a good spot of work. Helps me get perspective and all
that." He wrinkles his nose. "But that's just personal, just me. And I'm
weird." He scratches his head, unoffendable.

"See you around," and D'ney leaves without further ado, leaving the plate
behind for Halis to clear. Isn't she considerate, now?

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