.:: Appeasing the Beast ::. [Sakorai]

[♥Rizu-Chan♥]

J’ldaem of Tseravith
Weyrleader && Pyralis Wingleader

For the better past half of a candlemark or two since the news of Rhiannoth entering the Hatching Sands his bronze had been silent. More than usual really. Once or twice the man had tried to see what was bothering the dragon’s mind, only to be shielded away from the creature’s inner thoughts as he drilled his wing to the point of exhaustion. He had been going soft on them lately, too soft, due to Tseravith’s constant doting on Issarith while she had been in the sands – not to mention the Feast afterwards the Hatching. Finally he had been able to pry the mass of a dragon away from his golden star more; though that did not meant the bronze still didn’t seek out the pale queen.

He supposed he could understand, having seen how affected his own parents had been for turns before Kreallie had finally been conceived after him. No doubt the four dud eggs in the sands had left the queen feeling down, even if those prideful females would never outward show it, and the fact she still accepted Tseravith around her after the hatching gave the man reason to believe he was right on the mark this time.

It wasn’t until another candlemark had passed; once he had finished the practice and bathed in his quarters, that the bronze finally bespoke his lifemate.

J’ldaemMine, lets visit Sakorai.
[You are free to go visit Issarith whenever you like, Tseravith, so long as she’ll allow you near her. There’s no reason for me to g—]
There is a gold egg in the sands. Rhiannoth has laid twenty-four eggs, all seemingly large and healthy looking.
[... very well you brute, just lead the way. Tell Issarith you are going in advance; I’ll go pick some things in the Lower Cavern first.]
Thank you MineLove.
[Just go, before I change my mind.]

With a soft croon the dragon had poked his head into the chambers of his bonded, softly nuzzling the back of the man before snorting lovingly upon his frame. Before J’ldaem could retort the bronze was already leaping of his ledge; wings snapping open with ease as their massive size carried his form into the sky with little effort. Faint marks still stained his hide, scars from his flight with Issarith, but the bronze wore them with pride and delight.

Beautiful Issarith, may we visit you and Yours today? Mine has gone to the Lower Cavern, he brings offerings for Yours.
“That sharding bronze wherrybeast...”

He had made sure J’ldaem could hear his message as he bespoke Issarith, the Weyrleader rolling his eyes at the dragons faint playful jab to himself before he finished dressing. Some simple jeans with a leather belt to avoid them from slipping past his waist, and an unbuttoned white shirt to cover some of his upper body. His brunette locks were still soaked from his bath, scented sweetly as a side effect, and with a simple brushing they were moved into place. After all, he always looked good. Always.

As promised the man veered first to the Lower Caverns, picking a basket filled with different food items: from rolls and spiced meats to sweet bread and bubbly pies. Anything that might help appease Sakorai in some form; the man really wasn’t sure what to expect once he got there – though he had a hunch she would not be taking the news of this new clutch well. By the shards of the First Egg, he wasn’t too happy that Zorometh had managed to out-sire his own Tseravith either – though the man wasn’t about to blame the pale queen for any of this at all.

They had made a jump between, through one hundred turns or maybe more, and had a fantastic flight soon after arriving. It shouldn’t had been a surprise that this clutch had been so... unusual. And even then that small thing had produced a fine bronze and two browns; two of three which looked promising to grow into very nice sizes if J’ldaem said so himself.

’Hmph,I bet that silly Rhiannoth and her Suynie couldn’t even time a between jump to yesterday night.]

In his other hand was another basket, this one filled with different wines and other strong beverages; as well as a jug of klah in case Sakorai preferred it, as well as two cups for the brown liquid and two cups for the finer brews. Declining the offer of a drudge to help him carry the things he departed and soon enough had made his way to Sakorai’s weyr as he set the basket with the food down – the one with all the liquor would probably garner him a better approval from the woman after all. Steadily his knuckles wracked against the door three times and no more, the man silently waiting for a response from the Weyrwoman inside.

[Lady Smara]

The golden queen had looked up from her fussing over Sakorai and tilted her head toward the cavern enterance as if to listen, though their speech was completely telepathic. It was a habit she had picked up from her rider that she enjoyed. She paused to consider the fact that Sakorai had returned in odds with her normal, spirited and dominating self to be an angry, frustrated mess. While now would not be the best of times for company, the gold dragon could think of none better to visit at this time – except maybe that other bronzer Sakorai keeps going rounds with verbally. There was tension there too, but J’laedm acted on that tension, which Issarith enjoyed nearly as much as her blonde rider did.

You and Yours may. Be warned, Sakorai is out of sorts and may wish to bite though. She said, offering the only warning that would come to the pair that day as Issarith moved just enough for Sakorai to see their weyr’s entrance darken with the mass of the bronze dragon.

“Oh Issarith, I need you and you invite your sharing bronze dolt?” She said, clearly pouting and irritated. The gold snorted, however, washing the blonde woman in hot air.

Do not be silly, MY bronze has a THOUGHTFUL rider who follows baring gifts. Now are you still going to throw them out or will you let BOTH of them spoil us with attention?

At this the blonde paused to think for a moment before cuddling back into the crook of her gold dragon’s arm. “Fine, they may spoil us, but I’m not moving till he gets here.”

I knew you would see things my way. When the knock at the door came, the gold looked at her rider, still unmoving and let out a mental sigh before forcefully nosing her rider into a standing position and shoving her toward the door.

“ALRIGHT ALRIGHT!” Her voice was tinged with annoyance and after quickly wiping away a few annoying tear stains on her cheek she pulled the door open with more force than was needed. “Issarith says you have ‘gifts’ for me.” She said pointedly as she looked at the baskets in the mans hand, eyes widening. Well… that was more than she was expecting. Looking from the baskets to the man to the baskets again, she took the one that held the food and walked inside, allowing him to decide wither or not he was going to follow.

[♥Rizu-Chan♥]

J’ldaem of Tseravith
Weyrleader && Pyralis Wingleader

Issarith wishes to warn you that Hers might bite tonight.
[Lovely, I was beginning to miss that side of her after all.]

It was with a smug feeling that the rider returned the comment to his dragon; in all honesty he doubted the woman could dish anything at him more intense than that flightlust induced night upon her Weyr back when Tseravith had caught her Issarith. And he always did enjoy feisty women more...

With ease the bronze landed on Issarith’s weyrledge; careful so as to create the least amount of disturbing as he could. Folding his wings the brute soon made his way closer, though he allowed Issarith personal space with Hers for a while longer. Only his head and neck stretched forth to take a better look of Sakorai, the bronze rumbling softly in greetings to the Senior Weyrwoman as his eyes whirled with pleasing blue and green shades. With patience he waited, still a bit away from the pale queen to give her and Hers their space, until finally the knock on the door came from his J’ldaem.

”Issarith says you have ‘gifts’ for me.”
”But of course, I wouldn’t dream of visiting you empty handed sweet cheeks.”

The man gave a charming and confident smile, a feature of his almost always never missing from view, before winking at Sakorai. He could already see from the faint puffiness around her eyes that the woman had not been in any pleasing mood; his aim was to lighten the feel around them somewhat, get the Weyrwoman in higher and better spirits. Faintly he wondered if she would remember the moment his little pet name for her had begun, the Bronzerider just hoped she wouldn’t take it the wrong way.

As Sakorai picked the basket with food from the floor J’ldaem followed behind her, closing the door as he finally allowed himself inside Sakorai’s chambers once more. While certainly not unknown to him J’ldaem could neither boast he’d been in them enough times to make them feel familiar; though then again any territory of Sakorai was bound to put a man on edge. As sexy of a beast as she was the woman was also quite ruthless and unruly when she wished to be; and here in her chambers he was technically at her mercy should his wit and charms fail his ass.

Sakorai finally removed from Issarith’s side the bronze crooned softly to his mate, waiting long enough for acknowledgement before he finally closed the distance between himself and the gold as he nuzzled Issarith tenderly in greetings.

You are beautiful as always, dear Issarith.

While he did enjoy lavishing the gold in compliments there was also truth to his statement; to the bronze dragon none could ever compared to the pale and petite queen now besides himself.


OOC:// My muse suddenly went and died as I reached the end of this post, so excuse the faint crappiness. XD

[Lady Smara]

((Posted from my phone at work, excuse the crappiness...))


At her nick-name the blonde woman snorted before stepping up into one of her soft armchairs - clearly made for one person - before turning around and letting herself fall into a cross legged position in it, craddeling the basket in her lap as she picked through its contents.

"I would have you know that nothing about me resembles a sweetroll or a bubbily pie." She retorted, picking out a sweetroll as if it offended her before throwing it in half-hearted anger at him.

Finding one of the meat rolls more appealing she picked it out before discarding the rest of the basket to the floor in front of her and begining to pick it apart with her fingers, popping small bits in her mouth as she watched the man now in her rooms.

To be honest, she had probably now slept with the man more than any other so far in the Weyr, though that didn't mean much when it came to Sakorai who enjoyed sampling many men. What it did mean was that she had also found the need to chase him out after each round which left her in a strange case of both annoyed and amused.

He had not yet made any attempt to move into her chambers, nor did he tend to linger after she announced it was time for him to leave (or leave herself when the opportunity presented itself.) To be honest, the casual sex and distance they mutually seemed to agree upon was perfect for the woman who was so uncomfortable when it came to relationships.

Yet here he was, bringing gifts and wine on such a day as that other gold's clutching. Was he expecting casual sex today under his own terms for once, or was he finally stepping up for a diffrent agenda?

"Is there quikal in that basket?" She finally asked, still eyeing him like a feeding feline from her chair. She wanted something stronger than wine and quikal, while generaly shot by men would burn the throat on the way down and catch her stomach aflame.

And hopefully burn away the terrible taste of such a perfect clutch out of Sakorai's memory for a short time.

[♥Rizu-Chan♥]

J’ldaem of Tseravith
Weyrleader && Pyralis Wingleader

”I would respectfully like to disagree with you my dear; I rather find you are quite sweet tasting—with a slight kick of hidden spices of course.”

While Sakorai had moved to an armchair, of course meant for just one person, J’ldaem had wasted no time moving to a nearby table to place the basket filled with enlightening spirits down. Her retort about his pet name for her set a smirk dancing to his lips, the man’s tones filled with jovial jest as he replied back—catching the sweetroll tossed his way with ease as he had turned to face her once more. Spinning it once in the air he winked before taking a bite of the edible; pretending to chew thoughtfully for a moment before adding.

”You might be right however, these sweetrolls really don’t compare. I just might convince the Cook one of these days to make a pastry that resembles your tantalizing flavor.”

So far so good thought the bronzerider, at least the woman was not threatening to chase him out or anything; in fact he would almost dare to think this had the faint hopeful traits of perhaps being a normal evening for once. While the casual sex was divine, and something J’ldaem would never deny himself (or another) the pleasure of, the Weyrleader’s main goal wasn’t to get under the bedfurs this time—unless that proved to be the cheering up Sakorai needed the most. He was not, after all, an oblivious and heartless stud; plenty of times he had seen his own mother pine at the wish of becoming a mother once more, and in one occasion she had even loss her current pregnancy turns before Kreallie was born.

He didn’t doubt Issarith might be feeling just as heartbroken for the duds in her clutch, for weren’t dragons perfect imagery of man themselves when it came to feelings? More civilized than humankind,and wiser, yes—but they both grieved and pained when deaths were involved. Considering the intimate bond each person shared with their bonded dragon, J’ldaem would bet his life Sakorai had to feel just a strongly as Issarith for each of her Gold’s clutches.

The fact Rhiannoth had gone to laid such a perfect clutch, and even out done them not only in size but by delivering a Gold Egg among her brood, was probably more than a few low blows to the Senior Weyrwoman and her own Queen alike. No, he was not here just to bed her, for once, and while at first it might have taken a bit of pushing from Tseravith himself J’ldaem could not deny he had been a bit concerned about the blond now before him. The puffiness of her cheeks and around her eyes only prove that he had been somewhat in the right mark.

Does that mean you are glad to have come after all?
[Don’t get too excited you brute; she isthe leader of our Weyr. If the Weyrwoman isn’t in good mental health you cannot expect a Weyr to thrive.]
But you are still glad you came.
[Just go tend to your Queen; let me tend to my own business.]

The mental chuckle from his bronze was slightly irritating, though the bronzerider paid it no mind. Tseravith was just seeing things in the colors he wished to see them. Just because he was concern for Sakorai’s wellbeing it didn’t meant anything special. It was his duty to be concerned for her, as well as the other dragonmen and women of the Weyr, as Weyrleader of Refuge Weyr.

”Is there quikal in that basket?”
”Mmm, I believe so—though I took liberties in bringing a spiced type. Not too fond of those bland common ones we seem to overstock in the storage. I’m sure you’re more than able to handle it, so it should be no problem.”

Two small shot glasses quickly procured, as well as the mentioned bottle of liquor, J’ldaem strode over to the area where Sakorai lounged; like a feline stalking the prey in her lair. Unlike others, who might feel unease and restlessness, the dark haired man continued just as much as if he had been walking through his own chambers, sitting down in an available chair next to the blond as he popped open the bottle. Filling both small glasses generously he handed one to the Weyrwoman before smirking.

”To your beautiful self and Issarith, Weyrwoman of Refuge.”

He hoped that reminding her of her title, the fact she was above any other in this place, would lighten her spirits somewhat. To the Red Star and back that Suynie and Rhiannoth had laid such a perfect clutch; when it all came down to it they would never be more than Jr. Weyrwoman until the day Sakorai died. It was the woman before him who held all the true power of the Weyr; not that bland and boring brunette and her late rising behemoth of a gold.

[Lady Smara]

((From zee phone. Excuse crappiness.))

J'ldeam's hopes of picking up her spirits with the reminder of her title proved to work in combination of the offered shot. Sakorai smirked as she popped another small morsel of the roll she was picking apart into her mouth before she leaned forward and snatched the shotglass off the table.

"To Issarith and her reign as Senior." She agreed with a smile threatening to spread on her lips. Tilting her head back, she drank the first shot as if it were her fifth as it slid smoothly down her throat, burning in that pleasent way only quikal could.

Setting her glass down with a bit of show, she waved for him to pour another. Watching him, she contemplated where to drag the conversation - knowing full well from his own reminder of her title that she was in full control, where she should always be.

"Tell me, does your bronze plan to chase when that weyrling gold rises? She may rise before Issarith's next flight." She finally decided on - poking toward the waters of other relationships though they had silently always seemed in agreement that they were no couple. She felt the need to poke and prod tonight...

And who knew? Maybe after enough quikal he would return the favor on more physical form. Ha! If he didn't piss her off first.

[♥Rizu-Chan♥]

J’ldaem of Tseravith
Weyrleader && Pyralis Wingleader

There it was, that all too familiar smirk of the blond Weyrwoman; a feature the man was already accustomed enough that he allowed some faint tense muscles to finally relax. She had smirked, a positive sign, now it just depended on him to further carry the evening in a pleasant note. Not quite out of the woods still for certain, Sakorai’s mood and behavior could sometimes be as flighty as a Green or a clutching Queen, but the man felt good and confident this evening.

As she toasted with him in agreement, to Issarith’s long reign as Senior Queen, the Weyrleader could hear a mental rumble in the back of his mind of pleasure and delight. No doubt his Tseravith could agree with that statement just as well, the silly bronzed beast he was.

His first shot was downed with ease, much like the woman before him, and a smirk danced on his own features as he had begun to refill the shots but a second before her own wave begged for another. Alcohol was something well known to J’ldaem; the man could hold his liquor quite well for one his age and lithe build. He might not be able to out drink some of the more older and stockier brown and blueriders of the Weyr, but the brunette was certain he could match his Weyrwoman drink for drink.

And alcohol laced nights usually ended on a good tone come morning as well.

For now he decided to give her full control; this was after all a night meant just for her in the end. What she wished, what she desired, she would get without complain from him... so long, of course, as it was all reasonable.

”Ah yes, young Elynth is due to rise soon; provided she doesn’t turn out to be as late of a bloomer as Rhiannoth that is.”
I would never chase after Elynth; or Rhiannoth. They can never hope to compare against beautiful Issarith.

Inwardly the man bit the inner side of one of his cheeks to hold back his usual remark, his bronze dragon deciding that J’ldaem was taking too long to answer such an important question he had already made his mind clear upon again and again. His reply was not only shared with J’ldaem and Issarith, but the Weyrwoman Sakorai as well. Gleaming eyes watched the pair over from his comforting resting place with the pale and almost luminescent Queen that fascinated the bronze dragon so; a low rumble echoing for a few moments to place more emphasis in his statement, as well as disgust at the thought of chasing after others that were not Issarith, before the bronze resumed his preening of the gold besides him with the same care as devotion as usual.

Could dragons truly fall in love for one another? It was a thought the man had mused over and over again in his mind before; half tempted to disregard it and half tempted to believe it. Whatever the case Tseravith simply refused to chase others, Green and Gold alike, since the flight of Issarith—whereas before that time the bronze had chased whenever he felt his need (or that of J’ldaem) to do so. Not that J’ldaem ever needed aid in getting laid; and since his move to Refuge, sharing his weyr with his little sister, such endeavors were a bit harder to carry successfully in the privacy of his own weyr.

”There you have it, out of the olive king himself.”

With a wave of his hand for emphasis the man chuckled lightly, offering the second shot back to his Weyrwoman before his hand snuck out one of the various meatrolls from the basket she cradled so protectively selfish; not that he minded of course. A bite was promptly devoured from it as icy blue eyes stared back at the woman in question, taking in her reactions to Tseravith’s own statement.

Would such a reply suffice her, or was she interested in probing even deeper? She had, after all, inquired about his bronze’s stance of the matter; not his own. He could bait just as she could, though the man was certain she could still beat him at her own game. After all, it was a woman’s game; a man could never hope of anything other than lose and hope the consolation prize was what he desired in the end. Women were always in control, after all, or at least those that keenly attracted the young man were.

But it was amusing to think she might be interest in prodding deeper into such affairs; for while the topic had never been directly breeched before it was clear they both shared a mutual understanding, a silent agreement, in the matter. Could it be this feisty woman before him was jealous not only of Rhiannoth’s clutch, but the seemingly close relationship she and D’seus seemed to share all of a sudden?

It was an amusing thought, one the current Refuge Weyrleader did not mind exploring for as long as Sakorai decided to remain in the topic at hand.

[Lady Smara]

Sakorai was pleased with the efficency that the bronze rider poured the next round of shots. Picking up her glass, she hesitated with a glance toward the bronze dragon when he responded only to laugh when Issarith made a snapping gesture at the bronzes muzzle.

<<She's my rider. Not yours.>> the gold said simply before resting her head on his forepaws, not looking upset despite the retort and reminder.

Sakorai scrunched her nose at her own dragons love of cuddling before returning her gaze to J'ldeam. "Ah, but you will undoubtibly make the other women jealous. You need to teach your bronze to share his love."

Smirking again she raised her glass. "To the red star - may it affect Issarith's clutches like it has affected the sizes of your own queens!"

Tossing back the shot, she put down the glass before picking at her own roll again. "You know, Issarith has only been caught by the same bronze in a row once." She said off-handedly even as her eyes danced.

Oh she knew very well it would result in a weyr with unstable leadership, her last senior screamed of that often enough. Sakorai was not about to stress for her dragon to change that wonderful fact though. Especially if the idea would torment the man before her as well as the other golds in the Weyr. Why, how perfect would it be if she could get D'seus's bronze off that fat gold and in the air with Issarith! Give Issarith the gold egg and steal Suynie's perfect heart in one deft move.

<<The bronze may not chase, if all of these males act like Tseraveth.>>

[♥Rizu-Chan♥]

J’ldaem of Tseravith
Weyrleader && Pyralis Wingleader

A faint rumble left the bronze dragon as Issarith made a snapping gesture towards his muzzle, the male’s eyes whirling with content and placid shades throughout her act before she settled her head once more upon his forepaws. He crooned lovingly,clearly not upset at her sudden movement before as he continued to preen the pale golden beauty.

You are right, beautiful Issarith. She is Yours and only yours.

Sakorai wasn’t the only one scrunching noses at the cuddling dragons not too far away, the man himself running a hand through his hair with a faint roll of his eyes—more than eager to toast a second time with the Weyrwoman and get some of that delicious quikal burning down his throat. Seeing Sakorai begun to fumble with her roll once more, and not demand a third shot, the man took the time to pop the remainder of his own meatroll into his mouth before moving towards the liquor basket once more; this time pulling out some wine and glasses for the two of them.

Quikal was good to get them started, but nothing beat the wine made from the South with all its rich aroma and flavorful spices. Of course, should Sakorai wish more shots he had no adversity towards it. Returning to the chair he had occupied an eyebrow was raised in amusement as he listened to her comment; smirking ever so slightly as he popped the cork from the wine.

”You don’t say my sweet?” His eyes danced with interest as he finished pouring a small amount of wine into one of the two glasses, swirling the dark scarlet colored wine softly before offering it to Sakorai. He would wait to see if it was of her liking before pouring the standard amount in, as well as pour a glass for himself; it was but common courtesy after all.

”I suppose Tseravith will just have to start a new streak record then, hmm?”