Family: BEST, or WORST?

Xanadu Weyr - Training Grounds
A wide, grassy expanse, nestled into the gentle bowl shape where something's taken a bite out of the mountain. It's high above the level of the beach, and there's a good eastern view of the lake and a long path leading down to that sandy shore. Granite cliffs surround it on the other sides.
While much of the grounds are left in their natural state, one area has been trampled and trodden by enough feet that the grass struggles to grow. A running track circles a set of equipment - straw dummies with wooden frames, obstacles of various sizes and shapes, and targets for flaming, archery, and whatever else.

There's a dragon-sized opening to the south that leads to the cavernous weyrling barracks, and a smaller tunnel to the northeast - large enough for dragons newly emerged from the sands, but quickly outgrown by hatchlings who are then forced to take the long way around - at least, until they learn to spread their wings and fly. Between them in both position and size, a jagged crack in the stone leads to a dim cave with the sound of water.

This is missing part of the log! The beginning part. If you happen to have it, you could fix this tragic lack.

« Ye can. » A beat. The fog slows, almost stops in a surreal, impossible way. « I can. » While everything is sure, the latter is absolute in the aloof cocksurity of him. Ki'lian chuckles to himself, a breathy sound that is short, low and unkind, a risidual reaction of whatever part of that exchange was shared to him. There are large periods where he seems absent, looking past or beyond the collected weyrlings, that classic distanced gaze of a dragonrider, but there's something not-quite-right about it. Just like there are many things not-quite-right about the pair of them anyway. So, it more or less fits. "Dreaming." The man echos, a brow raised, both sets of eyes- dragon and human- fallen on C'iel. "I don't think that will cut it, mate." Not for him, anyway. Zyddagath shouldn't be interested or involved in a conversation related to support and positivity in helping the brown overcome his disdain of getting wet, but he is. Interested insomuch as listening and waiting because he can benefit from this, easily, by the simple nature of the fact that it means they can return to the water. And, secondarily, because it could prove utterly entertaining if the catlike-brown hesitates too much and requires… 'assistance' into the water. Then, there's invasion, one that makes even ghastly, tormented spirits cringe back, where fog receeds faintly because of the interruption and extreme of all that light and cheer and absolute opposite of everything He is. The skeletal bronze physically moves finally, too, rising to all fours, lips curling upon haunted figurehead to expose gnarled fang. Boop. And he stumbles, too-large wings in the way of catching himself. Hiss-creel noise escapes him unpleasantly, but no words are made in retaliation. Ki'lian shifts when dragonet loses balance, jaw working in the shared rush of displeasure, only to fall his attention from Queen to Risali. Watching, waiting, the faint edge of his smirk there but not in strength.

Iiiiiiiiiiiit's Mama! Tineangrath echoes Leirith's musical entrance with a more delicate soundtrack of her own, the musical theater to her mother's club jams. Lucky for Leirith, most of the mud which covers the bitty gold has dried to a fine caking of dirt, so that booping shouldn't rub off on her. « Hello! » The roaring heat of a crackling fire suffuses the greeting, that same comeforting warmth still in her tones as she turns her attention to Kayinth and his promise to try water. « Wonderful! We'll do it together. » She's already aiming for the promise of bathing, because she's a mess. « That is very wise, Ceruadharth, » she adds, in full agreement with her blue brother. Nessalyn is also filthy, but the techcrafter seems less concerned with getting all the mud off of her clothes and skin (and hair!). "Fine." EVERYTHING'S FINE, GOSH.

Ceruadharth rumbles at Tinean's evaluation of his thoughts. «I do not know about that, but it feels right…» His surprise-boop is anticipated! The ponderous and occasionally broody Blue PERKS at the feeling cutting through the fog and turns his head for NOSE NUZZLES, horn rubs, and otherwise bright and bristly greetings. Sparkly wisps emerge with dandelion fluff, swirling in lighted and polkadot patterns and rich pools parallel to the bathing grounds sputter up in fountains. The oft-attempt-to-eloquent mindtongue gives a cheerful «HI MOM.» Oh, yes, C'iel is synched right into those fuzzy family vibes. The Blue finally gives up the gentle trudge and lopes sideways, giving a modest Splash—enough to give a bit of spray, but not enough to do any major flooding. His healery counterpart coughs and wrings out his hair a bit. "Ah, no, even a bit of a shut-in like me wouldn't expect that to be enough." Just a pleasant respite, and enough to keep HIM occupied for weeks before any major stirring occurs. To Risali he turns a warm smile and nods. "A bit of… not really… wanderlust. Wonderlust? But no shortage of that. I'm good! And you?"

Kayinth enjoys his mother's entrance, her sunlight filtering through his spring tinged winter and mingling with the sunshine already there. He has forwarning with seeing other boops and as such is ready for it, a touch of muzzle in return. He has agreed to bathe, and so he will. But it is very..very…very….brief. He enters the -wet-stuff- just long enough for Airin to quickly wash off the bit of mud spatter, and he's out again, shaking from nose to tail tip and everything in between to be rid of the drips. Rin sighs and will have to work on that as she loves the water herself. "Ok..ok.. we'll go get you dried off and oiled." She gives a regretful nod to the others and goes with her brown to the barracks.

Risali is not laughing at Zyddagath, that would be rude. The bite down on her bottom lip as noses scrunch and grey eyes focus in on C'iel are definitely just joy at being here, now, watching all the babies do baby things. "Soon, you'll be able to fly everywhere." BIG CONSOLATION PRIZE for all the demands and wants and needs of baby dragons in their early stages. "But I'm…" a beat, as if Risali is genuinely considering the answer to that question, "Here." She settles on, but there's something mischievous in the way she answers, lacking the underlying discontent one might expect to find in those words. « HELLO, TINY BADASS. » TINE. « AND YOU, MY LITTLE ONE. » That's another nuzzle for Ceru, a shift of those massive wings stretching outoutout because SHE DOESN'T CARE ABOUT YOUR STATES OF DIRTY OR CLEAN. « YOU SHOULD COME, ALL OF YOU, MY WINGS ARE BIG ENOUGH. » For them to fit under. DUH. COME LOVE HER. AND DON'T THINK SHE FORGOT ABOUT YOU, ZYDDAGATH. « VERY FIERCE, I GIVE IT A SEVEN AND A HALF ON THE BADASS SCALE. » She totes just judged your fang-baring and it was lacking. Now Risali is biting down on her bottom lip again, tilting her head towards Ki'lian in a way that says she's almost sorry, but also what did you expect and then nodding her head for Nessalyn. "I'm glad to hear it." That everything is fine, she means. Still, she's moving away from her dragon, just in case any little cutes decide to get in on them CUDDLES. "And you are also fine?" This time the question is for Kil, brows raised as she moves.

Zyddagath rights himself with… some difficulty. BUT NONE BETTER DARE COMMENT ON IT. There's a wing under a silver talon'd paw, and a tail where he wasn't before, and it damn near took out Ki'lian when he attempt to get out of the way in the first place. The sharply angled head of his turns back to his rider, a snort brushing off all that just occurred. Tattered sails, no so uncontained where frayed ropes had once held them battoned down and in-place, are shifted, adjusted, returned to place with a leathery sound that doesn't quite match the time-aged and timeless oily Pearl'd sheen of him. Where once the wraith within the mists that evoke the chilly touch of ominous and foreboding and all things ill-will had withdrawn, now it returns. It never hurries, but that dread does creep, does return to where the edge of his dark, too-still waters invade upon the edges of the minds within reach. The corpselike risen shipwreck'd dragonet waits unti Ki'lian has his black-wrapped hand against the bronze's neck, as if he'd been summoned. Neither move to join Leirith, especially after that… embarrassing and unspeakable even that just went down. Then the corrupted waters drawl with the faint licks of decay on the outskirts where those disembodied voices still whisper, « And how high does this scale go? » One to Leirith, is Ki'lian's guess, but that goes unspoken out-loud. Only brings about a huff of a breath of amusement. Then to Risali, those eyes, deeper, darker now with presence beyond the seablues that were already touched in that chill, meet greys, and he.. tips his head in the makings of a faint bow. Short, sweet, arrogance thick in it, dripping from him and his cocky poise beside the dragon that oozes the same, "Aye." Because that's what should be said, of course.

Tineangrath happy-croons when Kayinth braves the water, only… well, that wasn't much in the way of a bath, but they'll get there. She believes in him! Only pride and enthusiasm is sent his way, but her overbright warmth isn't fully directional, and it spirals out to include everyone, even Zyddagath. « But I was going to bathe! » It's a faint protest, but one Tineangrath feels she ought to make because she should bathe. But Nessalyn isn't trying to push her one way or the other, and those wings are oh-so-welcoming, so WHY NOT? There's a bounce-tumble as wings get underfoot and a little leap turns into a tuck-and-roll. DOWN goes Tineangrath, flopping out on her back in an awkward sprawl. But she's getting better at this! She finds where her feet ought to be and picks up where she left off as though she never tumbled in the first place. « He is very fierce, » she agrees without a hint of sarcasm. "Yeah, right," mutters Nessalyn as she picks up on that part of the conversation. As far as flying goes, there's a bit more grumbling on her end, because that's going to be forever.

Ceruadharth does not comment, though there is a glint of gold-pink mischief in his eyes and a slight curl to his lips. No more than that for now, because he does not want to spoil this chance for FAMILY BONDING with overwrought teasing. His warmth is indirect, more like sunbeams filtering through forest canopy, but settles warm and gentle all the same. Now that he is thoroughly wet, he pulls himself over to the pair of golds to resume cuddling and find himself an underwing spot. «You'll have to get the rest of us later,» he laments, feeling about. They can't be TOO far. C'iel just… basks in this scene and leans back a little, nodding to Risali. "Here is the best place in the world," he says. Wherever you go, there you are.

DON'T YOU TRY YOUR JUJU DRAGON MINDTRICKS ON HER, ZYDDAGATH. Leirith is… unaffected, really. There's no daunting, no retreating, no withdrawing back to safer ground for this queen; no, that effervescent gold just conjures up more sound to make more impressions and keep the fog and thick of decay and rising tides not quite at bay — but never without a touch of her own amusement, a ripple of manipulation that keeps it from being just his or just hers. « IT DEPENDS ON THE DAY, » comes her answer, full to the brim with an amusement that goes undeterred (and is, as such, unrepentant). « ASK ME AGAIN TOMORROW. » Ha. Risali makes a soft sound in her throat that's almost concession for Ki'lian's response, for that arrogance and cocky repose as she watches, as she waits without that touch of smile faltering and - "Good." But grey eyes call him a liar, shift to Zyddagath to take him in before she turns her attention away to Tine, where Leirith's attention also strays. The moment she trips up on her wings and Leirith's head tilts, laughter booming. « VERY GOOD, LITTLE ONE. I GIVE IT A TEN. » On the badass scale, duh. But those wings come down over blue and gold, a nuzzle for each as Leirith basks, content, and Leirith booms laughter for Tine's observation. « HE IS. THOUGH YOU ARE ALL BRAVE. » A beat, as she focuses on Ceru. « AND I WILL. THERE IS ALWAYS TOMORROW. » Risa moves watch as well, a hint of smile on her lips.

There is exactly zero pleasure taken when lost souls are forced to reside against Sound and Loud and Amusement. The fetid fog makes no more progress, writhing in place, whatever everdark figment from Upside Down and over World's End, lingering just beyond what could be. However, that presence leaves no doubt that Zyddagath IS there, his nearly unmoving tides from such still waters pressed no more than that against that ripple, that frayed edge of mindscape. « That answer will change from today? » Because there was no answer! Together, the pair move, as if that shipwreck carries with him the man soul-bound, where every wave is traversed as one being rather than two. There is no resistence with Ki'lian to this or the choices, or even the.. questionable recommendations of earlier. So much so, that it is difficult to determine if it's his desire or Zyd's or both. Their venture takes them only somewhat closer to Zyddagath's dam, more in front of her than under her overwhelming cuddles. Does he look like he cuddles well? Ki'lian doesn't drop that intense sort of gaze that he lets stay on Risali this time, the smirk of him drawing a little further, crookedly. It says nothing to what she's determined, but he'd not chase it. Which means he's probably avoiding it. Still. « Not everyone can be brave. If they were, there would be less opportunities. Less a reason to seek it. » Enigmatic that whole concept of opportunities, curled in the sense of a positive thing, as in adventure and self-improvement. But oh, not for him, not at all what that current beneath really means.

FAMILY BONDING IS THE BEST. That's Tineangrath's opinion, at least, her thoughts suffused with the warm glow of love and family, and a number of other sweet fuzzy feelings which are enough to make Nessalyn visibly cringe. « Thank you! » She's proud of her tumble, mostly because it ended with her getting back up again. « Come join us, Zyddagath. » ALL ARE WELCOME. Even those who look like they might be all bony and sharp and painful to cuddle. LOVE KNOWS NO BOUNDS! Off to the side, Nessalyn is looking faintly ill. Don't mind her, it's just that togetherness makes her a little queasy. Tineangrath is happy to nuzzle up against her dam, no doubt spreading whatever's left of the not-quite-dry mud on her hide. « Everyone is brave, » the little gold disagrees, flame-bright and certain, « but I don't think everyone knows how to recognize true bravery. »

« I think not, dearie. » Zyddagath responds to Tineangrath's encouragement of cuddles and love and closeness. This rejection is not without a change in those foul tides, a thinning of the dense mists. As they dissolve, so does that figment- as if it never was. As if nothing sat upon the black ocean that stretches out to that horizon so far-off 'neath even blacker sky studded with singular moon and no contellations to guide. « Maybe another time. » That semi-promise made by souls trapped 'neath that dark water, that make up that water in a way that reminds so heartily that this is no normal ocean vast, is not entirely empty. He would bend, would be maleable to such things should they bring him something worth his time. Not this… affection. Not this, whatever this is that makes no sense, and not even his Bonded's mind can be dug into deep enough to figure out what Benefit it would bring. The young gold's disagreement earns consideration, the distressed cries from Beyond quieting further, « Should you give the wrong one too much hope, you might just lead them in an unfortunate direction. » He might even slightly agree with her, and even that bothers him. Ki'lian withdraws his hand from the bronze's neck, holding it in his other, the smirk on his face lost to a tense expression kept carefully, cautiously controlled. His head tips, though it's an unnecessary indication, for Zyddagath to return with him to the barracks. The faint share of itching is granted to Tineangrath- Too much swimming (can that even be a thing?) has lead to quickly cracking hide that is going to be difficult to keep up with at this rate, especially since the man's hand is clearly bothering him once again.

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