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No, Skelath. I'ver repeated for the fourth time in the past ten seconds.

Oh yes, Mine.

You're going to kill us both.

This is happening. I suggest that Mine accept it.

Skelath narrowed his eyes as he beat his wide wings, carrying them higher and higher above the small Weyr lake. I'ver would have brought a hand up to the shield his eyes from the glaring sun, but both were preoccupied with clinging for dear life to the riding straps as the dragon climbed the sky at a sharp angle. I'ver dared a glance behind them, where the dragons were barely the size of wherries. Fearless as he often was, I'ver swallowed hard.

By the Egg, Skelath, if you do not stop right now I am going to make sure we're out of the Weyr for every gold flight from now until the Red Star passes!

Mine said I should enjoy myself. The bronze thought back calmly. He knew I'ver's ambitions would not allow such a thing. So I am enjoying myself. Skelath released a low rumble as he pulled his wings in, his body rising for a second more due to his upward momentum before gravity took effect.

The feeling that took hold of I'ver was one of certain doom mixed with nausea as the pair began the descent towards the lake. For a few brief moments I'ver felt as though his stomach were in his throat, and he squeezed Skelath's neck with all of his considerable strength.

Sometimes I want to shove you back into that shell, Skelath.

I know, Mine. I know.

The bronze fanned his wings to slow their descent just enough so that the impact would sting, but nothing more. I'ver heard the loud smack of their bodies hitting the water, echoed by the sounds of water splashing up around them. He had only a moment to mourn the painful stinging along his back before the lukewarm water closed in around him. This wasn't the first time Skelath had taken I'ver for an unexpected joyride mid-drill, but the bronze never ceased to come up with creative new ways in which to torment his rider.

Skelath did a barrel roll, closing his inner lids to see more clearly through the churning water. He nudged his rider towards the surface with a wing, eyes swirling a pleased shade of blue as I'ver paddled for the shore. While his rider might be eager to get out of the lake – especially considering he had gone into it fully clothed – Skelath intended to take his sweet time, and made it obvious by the way he floated on his back.

Mine should not go swimming with his clothes on.

I'ver half-walked, half-dragged himself onto the shore, murmuring obscenities as he pulled his tunic over his head and began wringing out the water. His observant gaze snagged on one of the newer candidates for a moment before searching out Skelath in the water – the bronze had the lower half of his head submerged and was quite busy blowing bubbles in the water like some kind of five year old Weyrbrat in a bathing tub.

“Do yourself a favor,” I'ver murmured, gathering his hair at the nape of his neck and wringing it out, “Don't Impress.”

I'ver had all of his own flaws and insecurities, but kept them tightly in check behind those good looks and false bravado. How he'd managed to Impress that bronze was still a matter of confusion amongst his peers. One of said flaws came to the surface as I'ver took notice of the fact that the candidate before him was indeed female; it was a fact he had not immediately caught onto due to his preoccupation with being soaked. After all, the first thing he looked at on any woman was always below the neck, and that inspection would not have suggested the femininity of this particular candidate. Upon inspection of her face, however, I'ver presented a wide grin.

She was cute. Not a voluptuous, curvaceous woman in her prime like some of the kitchen girls, but cute. It was enough to catch his attention. He looked the young woman over with an appraising glance, as was common for any senior rider when regarding a candidate. Thank Faranth for that, as it was often I'ver's excuse for eyeballing the new female candidates. She was short, adorably so, but it was her lack of a gang bandana which elevated her to more-than-just-potential-booty in I'ver's eyes; having spent his candidacy in the lonely halls of neutrality, he knew the burden that came with putting your pride above the convenience a gang offered. There were few paths more difficult to travel than that of an unaffiliated female candidate in male-dominated Igen.

Shards, he couldn't sleep with her if he actually came to respect her. What a dilemma.

“Not all of it,” he conceded with a nod, folding his arms across his broad chest while he stared out at the troublesome bronze. Skelath acted as though he were king of the lake, splashing and bubbling as if there were nobody else around to be disturbed by his antics. I'ver had always found it humorous that a fisherman's son, so entirely in love with water, had Impressed to a dragon that would spend his entire life swimming if permitted. When surrounded by water, Skelath transformed from the cocky, disagreeable bronze to a playful dragon with enough amiability to rival any green.

“I'ver,” he introduced himself with an extended hand, nodding to the water to indicate his dragon. The bronze was thoroughly preoccupied with agitating some unfortunate green by sweeping his tail across the water, kicking up waves that thoroughly soaked the smaller female, “and the divebombing bubble wonder is Skelath.”

If Alerea took any notice to I'ver's 'appraising looks', she showed no sign. In such a male-dominated Weyr, with pride and ego practically suffocating its people, she had quickly come to shrug off any gawks or comments made about her or her (lack of) female figure. Men would always gawk at women, it just was the way of life. Though some women took offense, the only thing Alerea could argue was that many women gawked just as much (if not more so) than the men. It was a two-way street, to be perfectly honest and so long as no unwarranted touching was involved there was nothing to be done about stopping it.

But, on the other hand, perhaps she had merely gained a tolerance coming from a male-dominated hold and craft. Working with sailors and seamen on a daily basis, and eventually taking up the craft, she was accustomed to ignoring it.

Perhaps what surprised Alerea most was the fact the rider was actually giving her a few moments of his time! It was pretty amazing, actually. How often had she been judged because of her hold-bred nature, and most importantly, her lack of gang colours or bandanna? There was much judgment found within Igen, from the colour of ones dragon, to what bronze-rider or gang you gave your utmost loyalty, to the power of ones rank or the birth of one's home. With so many Weyrfolk sneering at one another, it made for an air of misery on more than one occasion. A shame, certainly, but to each their own. . . .

Just because traditions and the gang-system were in place didn't mean one was forced to follow it. Every man, woman and child had free-will and a choice to make. Alerea chose not to partake in settling in a gang or blindly following the self-proclaimed 'leaders' of the gang. It took more than a family name, a herd of 'sheep' or shiny hide to truly lead.

Such opinions had gotten her in trouble and probably would in the future. While most looked upon her suspiciously or just snubbed her completely, it was a refreshing change to find some one giving her a few moments of their time. "A pleasure to meet you, I'ver," she acknowledged, reaching out to shake his hand. Her hands were a bit calloused due to work on the sea and with various nets, rope and hours spent skinning and slicing up fish; despite this flaw, her handshake was firm and she wasn't afraid to look him in the eye (even if she had to look up to do so. >: ). "And greetings to your Skelath as well! He put on quite the show. . ."

Looking over at the bronze, watching his antics her green eyes danced with good humor. For being such graceful creatures in the air, it seemed that almost all dragons were natural water babies. She wasn't entirely sure if it was just because they all made their home in a desert. "It amazes me though just how playful they can be when bathing. Has he always enjoyed the water or is it just a temporarily preference against the current heat?" Tearing her eyes off the bronze and nearby splashing green, she looked back at I'ver with a slight cant to her head.

Alerea focused most of her attention on I'ver, though her gaze did occasionally slide past to peek at the antics of his dragon and others near by. Though she'd called Igen her home for more than half a Turn, the dragons were still rather fascinating and it wasn't often she had time to enjoy their games in the lake. "Showing off or not, he certainly knows how to get things done. If it was attention he craved, he had every eye on him after his display." No harm done, really, and from what she came to understand it seemed rather natural for those of shining hide to enjoy the spot light. Though she'd never met a bronze dragon formally or particularly, from what she had observed they were a proud sort. . . It would only be natural to assume they enjoyed the limelight as much as their golden counterparts.

As I'ver explained his origins, her green eyes lit and her smile turned rather radiant. "Seacrafter, you say? If you don't mind me asking, but what Hold? I'm a seacrafter as well, brought up and raised at Grey Ridge on the eastern coast." She doubted the man had heard of it, seeing as it was rather small and easily over-looked by many. Though they were but a speck on a map they always sent their tithes and were well-known for their hard workers and spiderclaw recipes. She was proud of her origins, truly, and it did show.

"Though I've traded the seas of water for seas of sand, I can't say it's quite the same thing." Though she did miss the cool ocean breezes, the sound of waves lapping at the shore, or the scent of salt upon the air she wasn't going to admit such insecurity. Not only was I'ver a complete stranger but he was a bronze rider. . . . And from what she understood, weakness was not an option here.

Stupid as it seemed, she had no clue where his allegiance ran. He seemed pleasant enough, and though she wasn't naturally suspicious, she wasn't ready to spill her guts so openly. Not when it could be used against her, not when all she needed was to be further harassed by some gang like the Rising Sun.

At I'ver's words about the gangs, Alerea coudn't keep from giving a light snort and shake of her head. Her smile faded slightly, brows knitting a bit in her obvious distaste. If there was one subject to put her off, the gangs were it! It also was a topic she wasn't afraid to let her stance be known. . . "Let them squabble. . . It may not be easy, but I'd rather be dumped in the water day by day than side with such presumptuous sheep. I understand it's an Igen way of life," she added hastily, trying to be diplomatic and not let her irritation surface so abruptly, "but they offer me nothing I can't achieve myself." She shrugged her shoulders, her scowl lessening as she looked up at I'ver. Part of her stance became slightly defensive, waiting for him to grow angry or offended at her words.

Though she highly doubted he'd do anything rash so publically, strong as she was he was still much bigger than she. It put her at a great disadvantage should any with in the Weyr decide to become aggressive but strict as Igen was, other than squabbbles or the occassional fight, murder or extreme violent behavior was still kept in check.

"For all their schemes, how do they expect to properly defend Pern and all its people, hold-bred, crafter, green-rider or gold, if Thread really does return?" Her voice dropped some and she shrugged, averting her gaze in a moments thoughtfulness. It was a strange way of life, and she did wonder if every other Weyr was like Igen. Yes, it was a hard life in the desert, but it was a hard life everywhere. Only a small few held a cushy lifestyle and even then, as far as she knew, such a life wasn't all it was cracked up to be.

People could still get along with one another, or be civil, with out having to flash their colours or brand themselves loyal to this family or that. Alerea refused to blindly follow. . .she had more brains than that, unfortunately.

“Not the same thing at all,” I'ver agreed. The sands often shifted as wildly as the waves, but they did not have the same graceful flow. The rough scratching of sand on rock did not compare to the comforting crash of the waves against the cliffside. “I was born and raised over on Ista, I'm afraid I haven't heard of Grey Ridge. I came to Igen when I was young, so I never learned any of the trade routes that would take us that far east.”

In truth, I'ver had been too busy with a variety of obnoxious antics to attend the typical lessons in navigation and cartography. Nevertheless, the search had interrupted his life at sea indefinitely. While those years of hard labor had been vital in making him who he was today – there was no such thing as a weak seacrafter – I'ver wouldn't have given up the chance to come to the Weyr for anything. As much as he prided himself on being a seacrafter's son, he had been born to be a dragonrider.

“Way of life my a**,” I'ver said with a bark of laughter. I'ver had never hidden his distaste for the gangs; not in candidacy and certainly not as a bronzerider. That seemingly ever-present grin only widened as her words echoed his thoughts on the matter, and he conceded to her every point with a brief nod.

“The gangs are filled with wherry-brained, dimglow rejects. The only reason candidates join them is to find strength on numbers because they lack strength on their own; it's Igen's biggest weakness. It's no wonder their leaders are constantly impressing greens.” I'ver laughed again, fondly remembering his constant harassment of the long string of former Flying Wherries leaders that now held greenrider status. “They won't be able to a damn thing against the Thread if they're bickering amongst themselves over who wore what colors when they were sharding candidates. They don't think of that, though. They're too busy fighting for power and climbing social ladders. Let's hope that changes with a new Weyrwoman,”

And hopefully a new Weyrleader, whenever the new Queen flew. Hopefully him.

“You've got the right outlook. With an attitude like that, you'll make an excellent queenrider someday.”

The girl would face a great deal of adversity in the coming turns before her impression, and I'ver knew more than anyone that a little encouragement went a long way. Especially when the person giving the encouragement truly believed in what they were saying.




Skelath's eyes whirled a positively thrilled shade of blue-green. He did not ask for things, he simply took them. Asking was for blues and greens.

Lazulith, I am taking Yours to Mine as a present. You will come too! Though the bronze seemed jovial enough, it was clear that he was not asking. He was telling. Without any further comment, he began paddling his way over too the shore, lowering his head enough so that he could blow bubbles from his snout as he went.

Skelath can has riderhat~

(( No worries. I wasn't expecting her to notice them. ^^ Also, Orestae, are we saying this took place after the RP where I'ver finds her in the closet or before? ))

Lazulith was not happy. One -- Skelath was carrying Hers; that was her job. And two -- he was taking her to His, the same His that Lazulith had many misgivings about. She saw the way that he walked, and though her fuzzy memory wiped away any knowledge of his conquests, she could sense his draw toward women. This was not good! She had to protect Lu'reni, didn't she? Mine-lu... she said, voice a bit more airy than usual. The green dragon sunk a little deeper under the water. Perhaps she could pluck Hers from Skelath's head?

Picking up on her dragon's worries, Lu turned around to smile at Laz, still holding gently to Skelath's head knobs. You're the only dragon for me, Lazu! She spun back to front, pitching forward ever-so-slightly as Skelath paddled forward. "We are going somewhere," she said, a bit sing-song. The greenrider did not particularly care where; she was basking in the moment. Skelath was a good bit larger than Lazulith, and it was fairly exciting to be on such a large dragon. Of course, Lu'reni would always prefer a flight with Laz, but she enjoyed the foreign experience.

Lagging behind, Lazulith began to tentatively paddle forward. Skelath, Mine-lu is not a... a thing... for... to be given to... She paused, exasperation flaring up. I will paddle closer. The small green darted closer to Skelath, staying just a few paces behind to keep an eye on Hers. I think, maybe, we have been at the water long enough... perhaps, she said, this time to her rider.

Atop Skelath's head, Lu'reni snorted, tossing one hand out to her side as if to touch the sunlight. Nonsense, Lazzy. There is someone over there we have not met yet. You love meeting new people! She canted her head toward the unfamiliar girl at the shore.

I do...? Lazulith was thrown off -- way off -- by seeing her rider atop another dragon. It made teeny insecurities flood through her mind, but Lu'reni sent positive energy her way. After a moment, her friendly, sweet personality came surging back up through the discomfort. You are right, Mine-lu. I do like meeting new people.

The awkward trio continued their odd procession toward the shore. Lazulith watched Skelath closely and then, quietly, she dipped her snout under the water and blew a small spurt of bubbles. Hey, it was fun! Her eyes quickly cooled back to blue, but she popped her head up after a moment, hoping her minor test of the bubble blowing had gone unnoticed. Now comfortably following the metallic dragon, Lazulith was totally unaware of the memory of her previous feelings slipping away from her mind, replaced by these new bubble-filled ones.

"The candidates very rarely get their way,". . .

"For which we all can be grateful." She quipped cheerfully. Sure, it also meant that some seemingly 'deserving' candidates were left standing for always and never Impressed. . . .but if every silly woman who believed that SHE should run the Weyr and SHE should Impress a queen and SHE should have what she wanted got it. . . What a horrid life that would be!

Alerea had been so focused upon I'ver that she hadn't paid much heed to the dragons in the lake. It was only when a flash of bronze didn't just catch her eye, but rather took up the entire view! Alerea blinked, surprised first at the close proximity of the dragon and once more when she noticed a woman sliding off his muzzle.

What on Pern. . . ?

Her smile never faded, though her green eyes focused briefly on the woman before once again turning up to Skelath. Wow was he big. She wasn't accustomed to seeing a dragon up close of any colour; small as he might be, to Alerea he was the largest dragon she'd ever seen! It was almost intimidating, seeing as his jaws could snatch her up in one bite! Such power, the dragons looked so graceful in the sky. . . up close they were just. . well. . .big. And Skelath was by no means any sort of exception!

The green dragon that had fetched her from Grey Ridge to Igen had been a might beast; the ride had been exhilarating but ended far too swiftly. And the rider of said dragon seemed less than thrilled to be toting around a female. . . . He'd barked orders at her and then been on his way. So to see Skelath just towering over all three was quite impressive.

With the woman finally on two feet, Alerea tore her rather fascinated and impressed gaze from Skelath to better focus on Lu'reni. Smiling brightly at the water-logged woman, she gave a small chuckle and offered her hand. "Pleased to meet you," she spoke, smile firmly on her face. "I'm Alerea." Honestly she had no clue who Lu'reni was; could be some weyr-lady or worker, could be a rider of some sort or perhaps I'ver's weyrmate for all she knew. The way she clung to Skelath's face (and not being privy to his conversation) spoke of some sort of familiarity.

Regardless, perhaps this new rider would be as good company as I'ver and not nearly as judgmental as most all of Igen!