Things that go -bump- in the night

Seelie Court (Evi and Lyubomir's Weyr)
// At first sight, even from the outside, this weyr is big. Off a long and twisty path, tucked close to the ridge between where the forest meets the meadow. The rock looming overhead provides security. Externally the walls are a mix of wood and stone, the front marked by a large teal wooden door with two yellow flowering plants framing it. The sides of the weyr have trellis's pushed up against the walls, and creeping vines enclose the wall-sized bay windows that wrap around the structure of the dwelling and make up the entire front-facing second story. A purple painted stone path leads back to a dragonsized door of bright violet, round and ginormous compared to human doors, made of hard solid wood with mechanical pistons that allow for smooth opening and closing.

Inside it's clear, this place was meant to be lived in by more than a few people, it's enormous. Much larger than a dwelling occupied by a lone greenrider. There's an ample kitchen, a grand wooden dining table with enough matching chairs for 8 people. Beyond that a den, soft lilac chairs are surrounded by shelves meant for books that look out onto the side garden full of seasonal flowers and avian feeders. Adjacent to the den is a left spiraling wooden staircase. The rear portion holds a gigantic couch, softly covered in soft fabrics of every color and embroidered with intricate floral and vine patterns. There's a closet the size of an average bedroom, twenty hooks line the walls, straps of varying colors and embellishments as well as oil, cloths, and anything necessary for dragon care lays on the shelves. Further in is another living room, a sofa of bright coral, and two matching comfortable chairs surround a table covered in the hide of a herdbeast dyed neon pink. Rugs are scattered throughout the entire dwelling, soft and fluffy, and houseplants sit near every window.//

Note to anyone reading this, this log was started 8/8/2020 and thus is a touch behind. A good story sometimes takes time. <3 Enjoy.

A crisp night wind carried a call into the moonless dark, a siren song lilting through the minds of any male dragon within Xanadu Weyr. Twisting and weaving her web, Neifeth began crooning to any who would give her the time of day (well, night) about long lost shores and caves bedecked in finery, of riches beyond the imagination of the paltry dragons at this pitiful Weyr. COme forth, and claim your prize. «Anyone foolish enough to fall for that line of wher-shit deserved what she had coming», she remarked to Evi. Though it was later than usual, the green gathered her quarry and painted the feeding grounds red. Covered in blood and bits of carrion, the flight was short, fast, and exceptionally violent as teeth and talons clacked, and she managed to draw a fair amount of ichor before being tangled in the clutches of Kralkth. In some respects, it wasn't a surprise, the green would never in a zillion turns admit favor, but the third of Kralkth's wins with this particular 'damsel' seems to prove otherwise.

Many aspects of this flight differed from the last four. Evi dragging her suitors to the middle of the meadow and pressing the winner towards the sprawling hidden weyr, for one. Unfortunately, rising dragons do not understand distances, and the mating flight concludes before the pair reached shelter. A cold wind awakens the greenrider. The hard soon-to-be frozen ground bites into her bare back, and there's a slight shiver of goosebumps down ivory white skin. Neifeth's exhaustedly basking on the ridge, blessedly unable to comment on the current predicament. Evi's clothing is scattered along the purple stoned path, tight red leather pants crushing the barren Perrenials that are barely stalks. A black sleeveless shirt 4 meters away hangs from a low lying branch, and a barely clothed young woman lays flat on her back beneath the skybrooms. Exhaling, she opens her eyes and stares quietly up at the forest above. Unwilling to move yet, her breathing hitches as the wind has her arm hairs standing on end. Despite this, she closes her eyes again and groans a pitiful whining at the awful ending of her hasty plan. Reaching up, there's an attempt at modesty, one arm covering her breasts while the other encases her face, fingers squeezing in slightly as the level of miscalculation sets in. Audibly sighing, there's a resigned exhale before speaking, "… Is um, anyone here? If there's anyone else here with me… Oh shards, I do hope I'm alone in this mess. But if I'm not then it's not only my mess, it would be our mess. Not sure that's an improvement. " Rambling all of this out there's a slight chatter of teeth near the end, voice sweet and lilting, a brook babbling endlessly yet not unpleasantly.

As if Kralkth would be caught dead not keeping tabs on a favored prize — one nearly as rough as him, one radiant in her terrors, fantastic and worthy of the time it took to chase her whippy tail through the skies. Hauling his pretty-darn-pregnant rider away from her duties and to a completely different Weyr for a flight probably isn't even the most strange thing the brown's done this seven, but it's probably the thing he's smuggest about. « Hmm, nothing worthy comes without a price. » The dragon's musing as he examines the tattered state of his chest; impressively ichored, worth it. High praise? Look, if he can't be a little cheerful after winning a flight, when can he be!

Doubtless, this is not the way I'rly intended to spend her evening. She's dressed — or was — for evening drills with the weyrlings, but that uniform is scattered in a haphazard zigzag towards the weyr of a Xanadian friend, now. It's no real loss: weaving her way down the path through the trees and rocks, Ibby's wearing a sheet and clutching an immense blanket over one shoulder, humming to herself as she goes. The brownrider's stopping here and there to pick up lost articles of clothing, and has accumulated quite the collection by the time she picks her way back to the scene of the deed. The decidedly outdoors scene, but look, this is I'rly we're talking about. She's for sure ended up in weirder spots, with Kralkth for a 'mate. "You're not alone, sweets." Ibby calls from a few dragonlengths away, ambling closer to carefully drape the heavy blanket over Evi. "Sweet ol' Jy'ma a few weyrs down remembers me from when I was a tot, let me borrow some ah…blankets. It's a little chilly." Understatement, I'rly is good at those, but she's smiling wryly as she settles cross-legged on the ground next to the younger rider. "Fancy meeting you here. This is certainly a choice for a location, hm?" The brownrider leans back on her elbows, watches the sky above. "…you know, I've certainly seen worse locations, honestly. Was this the plan?"

Neifeth remains mostly asleep, scratches covering her underbelly and wingtips with the thick dark green ichor acting as a glue for coniferous tree needles, leaves, and sticks. An art project, or an outfit suited to the venomous tone she is trying to set. Yawning with teeth clattering in a loud click, an eyelid peeled open then slammed shut, the mind voiced a whisper of nonchalance «Your currency will be declined next time, moving onto higher-end clientele. Hope you enjoyed my charity.» The words biting and sassy as usual, before the string of thought carried on the tinge of musk fades into the vast forest of her mind. The jabberwocky is willing to slink back into the woods, if only for now.

From her spot on the violet stones, Evi listens to the footsteps and groans in feigned pain before groaning and shaking her hair in a mock tantrum, hair tangling beneath her head as she drags fingers down her face to clutch at her throat, clutching at the pearls she needs to symbolize her horror. With a final wiggle of her shoulders in protest, she raises up to sit with legs out in front. Opening one eye, her lips curl in with anticipation even as her mind recognizes that voice. "I'rly?" In her tone, the question is hopeful, examining the brownrider and her newly acquired blanket with pointed skepticism that washes into a tired grin as she wraps her body in the fabric. "Um, you know, I… Well, it doesn't matter. Thank you for the covers. See uh, my weyr is right there." Pointing to the nearest dwelling, the bright teal door glowing in blue and purple porch lights. "Uh…" Mouth ajar at the question of the plan, Evi curls knees to chest, using the cleft between her limbs to rest her chin before replying. "I, thought maybe my Weyrmate might um. I wanted." Tongue-tied by her own proclivity towards modesty, she hides her eyes, muffling her speech, "Wanted tuh do him." Peaking up and squinting at I'rly there's a careful sweep of her body, nose wiggling in curiosity before cocking her head and sighing dramatically. "On the bright side, we did nearly make it to the weyr, it's the getting there while, uh. Yeah." She's unable to say all of it, but she's hopeful I'rly gets her drift.

Amusement roars on a cascade of sand, red-brown-gold, warm and also maybe just slightly like a sandblaster. Stones rumble chortles of mirth, wings stretch as the massive brown contemplates life, or maybe dozes sleepily. One or the other. « I'll believe it when I see it, » Boastful, but backed up by stolen snippets: his rider's remembered flashes of past flights, not-so-numerous as they might be. « They'll have to go through me, and as you might have noticed… » Kralkth seems never to back down, wouldn't be caught dead slinking into the brambles, instead baring teeth in what might be an imitation of a human smile or maybe a snarl. « I'm a tough customer. »

Mock-tatrums or no, here Ibby is, just as amused as anything by the whole situation. She's far too Weyrbred for shame or horror, although admittedly — "In the flesh, though, not a lot else. This is a first, honestly." The rider admits on a huff of laughter, still leaned back on elbows and grinning impishly at the moons above. "I hope your neighbors had the good sense to close their shutters. Wherever they are." Like she didn't pass them, on her merry way down to the one person who wouldn't think she was whershit crazy for showing up mostly naked asking to borrow blankets. "Well!" Ibby huffs, glancing over her shoulder and shaking her head, short hair flicked out of an amusedly-squinted eye. "We almost made it, huh? That's a nice looking weyr. Probably slightly more soft places than this clearing, but, beggars can't be choosers I suppose." A hand waves airily, as though they're talking tea, not the results of a flight held in a lovely semi-public forum. The absurdity of the situation isn't lost on Ibby, but the part of her that harbors shame seems to be very super broken. She does fix the greenrider with a sympathetic look, though, nose scrunched up. "Nei not give you near enough warning for it, huh? You got to plan that ahead of time, I suppose. I'll uh…try to keep that in mind, if this happens again." I'rly tilts her head to the side, thoughtful. "Not that Kralkth, well. Gives a lot of time for thinking, if you catch my drift." CLEARLY, Evi does. "He doesn't fixate on any other green like this, and most golds - doesn't think much of them, even if he does try every time. Hey," With an expression that had started to turn a little past rueful, Ibby's suddenly energetic, leaning forward in her sheet and smiling warmly. "Good time to catch up. Let's have it. How goes it, Evi?"

The gust of sand awakens the sleeping green, mind springing to life in a wash of crimson that arrives with citrus's sharp scent. «I don't remember inviting you to this particular occasion you wher-skinned party crasher.» Snaking her tail out, she makes to uncoil it's length and snap the forked tip at the towering browns injured chest. STriking the wounds she caused that very night, she's never been accused of playing fairly.

Shame is a cornerstone of Evi's upbringing, body taut as piano wire as she speaks of the half-cooked plan to share this experience with her chosen. "Oh, the neighbors. What will they think." Gasping in newfound outrage, there's color building in the lily-white cheeks as her feet kick in a release of her pent up mortification. Evi plants her top teeth firmly into her bottom lip, gaze flicking to the dreadfully close teal door. "She should have been another two days, she wasn't due to go up for two days." At the mention of the comfort level inside the weyr, there's a bright wriggle, head ducking down as shoulders meet ears in a pleasurable shrug of self-consciousness. Unable to take a compliment, even a simple one. "Can we catch up inside? Maybe?" Eyes now scanning the area around them, as if any moment the neighbors will be staring at the scene she's created. "My Weyrmate should be asleep, so we will have to be quiet." Rising to her feet with care to stay covered up, there's a nonchalant shrug about catching up. "There's not a lot to tell." The comment triggers a slight tug at the corner of her mouth, eyes distancing in thought as her comment settles like a lodestone on her mood.

Shame doesn't know Ibreily — wouldn't know her if she handed it a map and flashlight, probably. The older woman wiggles toes in the cool grass and leans back on rough elbows, humming absentmindedly at the sky. "That you're young and will eventually get a better grasp on Neifeth's flights, probably." Ibby consoles, smiling lopsidedly. "Plus, who's to say they noticed?" The green and bellowing brown fighting like cats and dogs overhead as a prelude to what was not likely an exceptionally quiet human-part of that? RRrrriight. Look, at least she tries. The brownrider wrinkles her nose, shakes her head — "Faranth, I don't mind that Kralkth ain't green. All that planning, just for it to go sideways? I'd rather be on the receiving end of every tail from here to Landing." Which isn't far off from the brown's tastes, really. At mention of catching up inside, Ibby tilts her head to eye Evi, smile back as she listens. Doesn't move immediately, of course. It's a nice night, even if it is chilly, and look. Nobody ever said I'rly wasn't rude sometimes. Eventually she acquiesces, though, huffing amusement and standing with a groan and cracking of joints not getting any younger. "Well, alright, I suppose we can be quiet. Now." See, rude. "I would certainly like to know about this Weyrmate, though! Anybody I know? C'mon," Even if she is rude, Ibby still holds out a hand, sans a couple fingers that the rider doesn't even seem to notice are gone any more, smile broad now. "I'll let you have the blanket, even." You know, to cover up with on the way back inside, duhhh.

Nothing about this night has gone to plan, it's evident from the clothes collected that Evi was not dressed for the weather and the outfit betrays her haste in finding her lifemate during the flurry. With the rapt attention of one looking for a mental lifeline, Evi nods tersely to every word said and groans dramatically. "Um, maybe if we get inside, I can convince everyone this was an odd dream." The hopeful lilt of her quiet voice is cut through by the brownrider's brashness, eliciting a choking snort that flows into a broken moan of mortification. Stranded here, body molded to the fabric hiding a portion of her shame, there's no moving. Not with the lights on in several windows, muddy eyes reflecting the gleam in search of rustling curtains as she blinks hard and opens only one eye to peer about. Nope. She's not dreaming. Pink lips form a curse word, a proper lady in ways Neifeth will never grasp. Swallowing hard, she gathers the blanket and looks at anything, but I'rly's nudity, the ridge behind her weyr fascinating all of a sudden even if the darkness has swallowed most detail. Flummoxing over her own thoughts, she barely catches the offered hand, soft finger pads whispering over the place where fingers used to be. "Uhh." No words, Ibby might have actually broken her as she moves to drag her companion inside, "He's, not a rider, not that it matters. Um, Lyubomir?" As the blanket becomes her sole property, she makes to drag her friend to the warmth waiting inside, pressing the door open and exhaling once over the threshold. The heat inside presses greedily upon them, in a whisper Evi nearly smiles with relief as she says, "It's uh, not much, but it's home." A grand understatement to space she's curated.

"You know, that's not the least reasonable thing. Friend of mine's dragon used to shout-dream when it was a baby, give everybody weird dreams. Maybe they'll just, uh, assume." I'rly is really not the best at being comforting, or lying, apparently, somehow. You'd think that turns spent up to mischief would really hone that, or at least the harper training, but here we are. "C'mon, now, sweets, you're doing great. Just a couple more steps, we'll have it." The brownrider teases brightly, allows herself to be dragged along behind the greenie, cheerful. The warmth inside almost distracts Ibby from the conversation, but with her free hand she's gathered underpants and a shirt, which are pulled on absentmindedly in the warmth. This is apparently plenty of clothing, and by the time Ibby glances up from her be-clothing, she's peering around with raised eyebrows and a low, quiet whistle. "Well, now, this is lovely. I love the colors. Much brighter than mine. Fort." Nose wrinkles. "Let me tell you, living in a cave isn't ideal." A beat, and the rider rewinds the conversation, voice still quiet as she helps herself to a chair. "Lyubomir…I don't think we've met, but I guess I don't know everybody at Xanadu. What's he like? He's good to you?"

"That's, um, yes, Nei could complain about the disturbance. Tell everyone, about her lost sleep. She'd like that." The thought presses a smile from her weary face, shoulders wiggling at her idea. Not to mention spreading random half-truths and asking leading questions to pull attention onto others might as well be her dragon's full-time occupation. "Lyu is, kind; he loves me very much." There's no stutter in her words, the statement a mark of claiming and pride. Arriving inside Evi turns to asses I'rly, revived by the warmth and comforts of home she gasps audibly, loudly, hand releasing the blanket's corner as she spots the baby bump. "Um, I'rly, ma- uh. Here, take this back you need it more than i do." Blushing and ducking into her arm, she turns around quickly with a hand over her breasts. Hot footing it further inside, she grabs a blue leather jacket off a chair's back, obviously, a tall man's as it covers her completely. "Do you need anything? You should stay, here, with me. Here." Looking around frantically and staring, "Are you, hungry?Or thirsty? You don't have to go back to Fort tonight, you shouldn't, you can't." She's bewitched, eyes going to the bump, and looking fully prepared to break out a bubble wrap roll. Catching the hand again, if she can, she drags Ibreily towards the dragon couch, covered in purple sateen fabric and glowing with small colored lights that are embedded into the wall itself. This place is beautiful, and somehow foreign as if it belonged in a fae fever dream and not in a giant house.

I'rly's lips pull up and sideways, a smirking kind of grin for the thought of Nei's reaction to that. "I'm sure." Dry as old bones, the brownrider huffs, head shaking amusement as she follows the greenrider into the weyr. The impressed look will have to be put on hold, since Ibby's huffing at the attention, patting the little human-to-be in a gruff kind of way. "We'll be alright, I suppose. Better than half the shardin' turn at Fort, this weather." She laughs, quiet, but accepts the blanket in a dignified kind of way all the same. Super dignified, for somebody who's not yet found all of her clothes. Look. There'll be time for that, come morning: for now, the spell of night is on them, and the dragon couch is magical, drawing Ibby into a quiet mood that speaks of imminent sleep. Sure, she could walk back to the weyr she grew up in, but…this one's good, too, and the company? Definitely a plus. "I'll take a nap here," The brownrider agrees, since that lends more time to the actual talking part of her….visits with Evi. "M'not really hungry, hush, c'mere. Tell me about this Lyu some more." The captured hand is squeezed, eyes bright in a way that doesn't quite speak to the fact that Ibreily's most definitely going to pass out somewhere in the middle of this discussion. "You tell me about him, then I can tell you all about this." Ibby thumps her belly again with a free hand, grins, sinking not-so-gracefully into the nearest pile of pillows. Does she almost immediately drift off? Yes. Will she apologize profusely for this, come morning and actual-talking-time? Also yes. Look, it's been a pretty long night, and carrying around a kid isn't so easy, right?

Evi flutters forward, rearranging the cushions, flittering to a drawer where three blankets are pulled out, bright teal, yellow, and orange of plush warm fabric. Frowning, she shakes off a thought, eyes going to the purple curtains and considering that yellow and teal don't 'fall' into place correctly for her lifemate. Those ones can be put away before the green meanie reenters her throne room in the morning. Each motion towards the belly has her mouth quivering, eyes almost welling up. Blame it on post-flight hormone shifts, or the fact that she doesn't eat easily when Nei is proddy. The maternal instincts are in overdrive, and she's fully prepared to fuss, apply blankets, fetch water, and be a general ninny. Before agreeing to stay Evi points out the downstairs bathroom, waving a hand to where the kitchen is and settling with feet crossed. "As long as you are comfortable." Evi submits to the night and lowers herself to lean her head next to I'rly's lap, "Lyu is." A tired yawn escaping, before she continues with no shortage of affection, "He is, my Weyrmate, um, he, is the Weyr handyman if you can believe it. I uh, wanted a fish pond." There's totally a pond out back, visible through the giant glass windows surrounding the couch, water flowing gently over rocks in a babbling trickle of sound. There's also a plethora of giant cages, with ramps going to and from the dwelling's upper story, mesh enclosures filled with plants, small ramps, hanging ropes, and miniature swinging bridges. Catios, if you will. "He is from Xanadu, his mother is a nanny and his brother a bluerider. He's the youngest, but still /like// four turns older than me." Even if they go to bed early, Evi will share some of their private anguish. Here she's safe, here she's warm, here the fae lights guard her from harm. In time, she will speak of their struggle to conceive, of losses, and green eyes in a man who worships her for some RIDICULOUS reason. The entire talk her hand kneading I'rly's until sleep takes her away. All of this to be rediscussed the next day, over tea and scones.'

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