| Who | Bailey, Hannah, Lendai |
|---|---|
| What | After fleeing Vergora's and Sadaiya's doomed dual flight, the three make a shocking discovery: an entirely abandoned weyr. |
| When | During Kohleth's and Jivayath's near-fatal flight | 2 turns, 1 months and 3 days until the 12th pass. |
| Where | Lower Bowl, Southern Weyr |
| OOC Note | Due to schedules, this log was backdated to take place during the dual-flight. |
Lower Bowl
Here lies the dross and the debris that the breeze carries in: it's both soft and dangerous to walk among the wreckage that lies in the shallowest part of the bowl, some little distance lower than the western plateau. Organic material and composting leaves give great room for weeds to flourish, and flourish they do. Scattered openings litter the side of the bowlwall here, leading to ambiguous caverns. Directly south lies a crumbling of the bowlwall that opens up to what certainly was a cultivated field, some time ago: just past the curve of sight lies the stables nestling against the entrance bridge.
It is Summer and 93 degrees.
Gold Khalyssrielth, gold Talicanitath, and gold Dhiammarath are here.
Lendai and Bailey are here.
Obvious exits:
Ground Weyrs Craft Complex Living Caverns Upper Bowl Weyr Entrance Herder Complex
After you release the straps, Dhiammarath stretches out one pale, iridescent forearm allowing you to scoot down that pale hide. With a final release of grip, you fall the little ways down to the ground.
Back in Igen Weyr there is chaos abound. Jivayath is blooding her kill, which of course sets off the alarm for all other goldriders to vacant the premises. While Kohleth may not have gotten that memo, Talicanitath certainly did. A haphazardly put-together Lendai appears from between to a beautiful Southern day. Warm and just a little big humid, normal for the jungle-esque Weyr. Or what was once a Weyr. Not waiting for the order, Talicanitath lands on the ground of what once was a prosperous Weyr. Only now ruins lay in the wake. "Shards," Lendai dismounts with ease, shedding her riding gear as she glances around the remnants of Southern Weyr. "This is sharding depressing. Lucky we didn't between times, huh, Tali? I didn't have this in mind when I envisioned this place." That thought in mind, the pair share the newly updated Southern (though Bailey may already know the current landscape better than the Oldtimer golds) with the other goldriding inhabitants of Igen Weyr. Looking quite thoughtful, if not a tad enraged at the current happenings back at their adopted Weyr, Lendai wanders around just a little. "Why couldn't it have been you, Talicanitath? Why instead that Istan rider's gold… shards, if she gets Seniorship, if Kohleth is truly infertile…" The sentence hangs in the air, a fist shaken at the sky.
So new to Igen, Bailey isn't new to this rigamarole: they arrive from ::between:: soon on the heels of Talicanitath, by serendipity or plan. There is no larger gulf between the two golds, as Khalyssrielth wings gracefully down: one large and bright, the other small and dark. Confidence, however, radiates from the nowtimer gold, and she doesn't have to listen to her lifemate berate her for not being the one to go up. Bailey removes her helmet and shakes out her hair, squinting at the look on Lendai's face as she approaches. "Is this different, then." It's more of a statement than a question, really. "In your time?" She's too familiar with the shards of Southern to miss a beat.
Long beats wait before Dhiammarath appears in the brilliant skies above, white fluffy clouds providing a serene backdrop to the junior's arrival before Dhiammarath slowly wings her way down, crushing overgrowth as she finds a place to land. Hannah scampers down the straps that cling to the pale gold's hide, her own attire somewhat rushed in what was chosen, which leads to a linger shiver as the chill of between is not kind to explosed flesh. At least, here in Southern, the air is more humid, a kindness to one's skin. "Lendai," it's clear the young woman was following Lendai, the familiar once-senior of 'kind of' her time. She'll claim it, anyway, as her own. Once grounded, arrival comes just as Bailey asks her question. "What's different?" Distractedly asked as Hannah surveys the ruins of Southern in surprise. Only a month ago, she walked these very hills after her jaunt forward in time.
"I did not go to Southern after the debris started falling from the comet. And I skipped here before the main impact of the comet hit. I had heard rumors, and of course what the Igen dragonriders had said… they were more focused on the destruction of High Reaches Weyr and Crom than Southern, though." With good reason. "So, yes. This is…" Shoulders are shrugged. "A shame, really. Southern was a good, solid Weyr. Where did all the riders go?" She turns towards Bailey fully, head tilted in curiosity. "Did the survivors get shuffled between the Weyrs?" Because of course Bailey knows what happened some couple hundred turns ago. Some rubble is kicked at, stones kicking across the ground and leaving dust in the wake. As Hannah appears and dismounts, she gets a warm smile of welcome from Lendai. Her eyes do scan the sky a moment, perhaps waiting for Kohleth to come as well? Though it's no general of concern to the goldrider if Igen's Senior joins the small goldrider party or not. For now. "I used to love coming here after Talicanitath's clutches for some rest and relaxation." A harsh laugh is ripped from the woman, her head shaking as what was once the entrance into the Weyr's Living Caverns is stared at. "Guess those days are long gone, eh?"
Bailey gives a rather eloquent shrug of her shoulders. "Southern was long-deserted before I was a demented gleam in my father's eye," so reports the Benden-accented nowtimer, shaking her head. "Though…" A doubtful expression. "I remember ''something'' about Southern. It wasn't about the comet, though." She shakes her head. "Hell if I know. Eyes shift to Hannah and then Dhia with admiration and some of that quiet astonishment of the nowtimers for a dragon ''that'' big.
"When I came forward," Hannah starts, then pauses to clarify, "The first time, Southern was…" She glances around, "Full. Of people. The weyrhall was functioning, and lively. I didn't stay in Southern Weyr," because she was hiding, "but I saw enough of it. It was a popular space for retirement." The Florida of Pern at that time, so to speak. "In my time, Southern was coveted for the grubs that helped to protect it from Thread." Dhiammarath steps away, giving the other golds room as well as to find a sunny patch to settle down in. Hannah tries not to visibly notice Bailey noticing her dragon, instead stooping to dig fingers into the moist earth. "I wonder if it still has it — You remember something?" To Lendai, she muses, "I hope they survived… or maybe moved to more viable areas of Pern."
Lendai checks out for a brief moment, before nodding her head. "Looks like Tuli and Elicheritath got out in time." Old habits die hard, even if Tuli is no longer the junior to Lendai's senior. "Still no word from Vergora, though…" She mutters out loud, face screwed up in concentration. Turning around, back to the ruins and facing the two younger goldriders, Lendai crosses her arms. "Ah, forgot about those grubs. We were hoping to bring them to High Reaches Weyr during the interval or some such. Tuli was working on them, I think." Her boot scuffs at the ground, digging a small hole in the dirt. "Think they survived the comet? Be a shame to lose such a valuable resource with Thread looming in our futures." A comment that causes the woman to stare up at the sky, eyeing up Rukbat. Her mouth opens, about to say more, but the statement hangs in her throat, a few beats passing before the goldrider starts cursing. "Faranth's teeth!" Hands are thrown up. "Kohleth is rising. Vergora didn't take her away." Well SHIT.
Bailey hasn't the slightest interest in if any of the others got out safely - well, at the moment. "Southern? Full of people?" her voice is incredulous: that's like saying people live at CROM. Shit just doesn't happen, yo. The redhead eyes down at her feet - or more precisely, the ground underneath her boots. Grubs? She steps until she's standing on stone instead of dirt. Then her attention is riveted by Lendai's words, jaw half-dropping, eyes unfocusing as Khalyssrielth taps into the feed, so-to-speak. Her incredulous expression seems to say it all, doesn't it? She shoves her anxiety down and her helmet back on. "I'm not staying here," she abruptly notes. "Iwe need to go flying." And there she is, striding with no hesitation towards her lifemate.
"Vergora…" Hannah's expression tenses, though she continues to stare down at the moist dirt she's pulled up with her fingers. Bailey's jump from dirt to stone earns a touch of amusement as well, though when Lendai relays the news of both Tuli's safety and Vergora's madness in staying, she gasps. "She stayed?" That's a surprise to the younger junior, who's old enough to know that you get out of dodge when a goldflight that's not yours occurs. "I…There are too many queens in this weyr," it's not idle commentary, but a worry that niggles in the back of her mind. Then Bailey's striding towards her lifemate. Looking from Bailey to Lendai, Hannah rises.
"Has common sense just been forgotten in the past few hundred turns?" Lendai all but yells, stomping her feet as she gets some play-by-play from the flights going on back at Igen. She's distracted however as Bailey starts moving towards her dragon. Grabbing up her own riding gear, Lendai wastes no time shoving her arms through her jacket and places her helmet and glasses on her head. Not even going to bothering asking where they will fly to, the older of the three women simply follows along. Moving with a certain amount of quickness towards Talicanitath. A jerky nod is given to Hannah, an agreement stemming from her comment. "Entirely too many. We're not used to it yet. Weyrs full of multiple golds, it's more Thread time and we're…" Interval golds. Except for Hannah, at least. She's shaking her head, grabbing at Talicanitath's riding straps and mounting with ease. A look is sent at Bailey. Expectantly.
Khalyssrielth launches herself with speed and agility into the air, the lean brutality of her massive launch up reinforcing the first-glance similarity to a bronze. Bailey crouches low over her lifemate's neck for the first spring, well-accustomed to the innate ferocity of movements. Once aloft, she circles a lazy spiral, orienting herself, before cutting diagonally, south-southeast. The dragon flies hard, pushing speed with ruthless determination, as if pressed on by a thousand demons: and perhaps she is. Bailey's just on for the ride. Over the ruins and plains, they are soon flying over jungle and the coughing roars of startled felines. Khalyssrielth dives steeply, belly flirting with tree-tops, weaving her way through a maze of taller growths with lazy disdain for danger.
Once again, last to be moving, Hannah's steps to her lifemate are quick, but not hurried. If they get ahead, they get ahead. As she climbs the straps, a few murmured words are given to the partially dozing Dhiammarath before surveying the jungle ruins around them. Dusting her hands free of the last remaining pieces of wet earth, she grips the straps and urges Dhiammarath upwards. Unlike Khalyssrielth's agile and speed, the white-gold dragon takes longer to get into the air, jewel-bright wings sweeping outward as powerful muscles send her aloft. Which further adds to the slow ascent until the gold's reached the point where the weight of her body isn't a hindrance. They follow behind great-great-great-great-granddaughter and Khalyssrielth.
Up, up, up in the air Talicanitath flies, Lendai holding on as per usual, her eyes sharp on the shifting landscape beneath them. Zooming over the ruins of what once was Southern Weyr. Sadness trickles in her gaze, though hidden easily due to distance from the other riders as well as her riding goggles. So many lost lives. Such a waste of a Weyr. Finally she rips her gaze from what's beneath them and instead looks ahead. Each powerful wing-beat from the golden dragon zips her farther and farther along, though still trailing the smaller Khalyssrielth. Follow the leader, the leader, the leader! Follow the leader, where ever she shall roam!
And where the leader leads is a strange serendipity indeed. Khalyssrielth is the first to start when the white marble-against-black-cliffs becomes apparent as more than just a happenstance of nature. Her frost curls in frozen glory against the gems of Talicanitath and the zen garden of Dhiammarath: icing diamonds to further glory, casting snow to play among the scent of jasmine. « There is something ahead. » To say the least. As it becomes more and more obvious what it IS, Bailey leans forwards, a hand lifted to her mouth. Yo guys. There's a weyr. Like… right THERE.
Despite the chillier air of the upper atmosphere and Hannah's lack of leathers — sometimes, you just can't grab that shit in time — the junior weyrwoman is enjoying the simple freedom of flight. Especially as word trickles through the draconic gossip mill about the disasterous occurrances back at Igen. As frost mingles with jasmine, hints of flickering stone lanturns and touches of milky jade are hints to the out-of-time gold's curiosity to what's up ahead. Urging Dhiammarath to pick up speed, Hannah, too, leans foward, trying to catch sight of what Bailey's spotted as well as not getting too close to Talicanitath's tailwind. Wouldn't do to have a crash down here.
The sheer amount of wild beauty seems to have enthralled Lendai for the time being. It's so rare that the pair just enjoys flying straight to some destination. Even if that destination is unknown. Golden wing-beat after golden wing-beats has the two going quicker and quicker. No need for a large increase of speed here. This ain't no mating flight, yo. So it is with some surprise that Lendai halts the forward momentum of her dragon as she spots Bailey's moment of hand to mouth. She takes stock of what is all around, head tilting to the side and sending a quizzical look back to the young goldrider. Taking some initiative, Lendai simply gives the order to land to Talicanitath, the too circling until they find a big enough spot to fit three gold dragons, plus many, many more.
Down into the lower bowl Khalyssrielth flows, landing deliberately in the foot-high sea of dead leaves; the force of the wind from her backwinging drives dry husks of local flora gusting in tumultuous whirligigs. Bailey simply sits and stares, jaw visibly open. "By Khaly's shell," she breathes, staring up and around and— "What -is- this place?"
Bringing up the rear in this expedition, Dhiammarath's lazy circling drives a pathway across the lower bowl of a dormant caldara, in what was obviously once set up as a weyr. Through the tight, chiseled buildings inset to the caldara's lower altitude wall, and finally over the verdant jungle valley that forms the entrance to the weyr. Finally, the pale gold lands next to the others — stair-steps in color, from pale to brassy to shadow'd rose — and allows Hannah to call out to the others, "What is this place?" Unconsciously echoing Lendai's voiced question.
Khalyssrielth stares about her, eyeing this way and that, similar to her rider's stare. Only after disembarkling does Bailey answer Hannah's query, her voice amused and strained all at the same time: "Unless I mark my guess, it looks like a weyr. An abandoned weyr." GIVE THAT GIRL A GOLD STAR. She pauses, scrapes down until her boots hit cobbled stone. "This is a bowl. Those are caverns. And if I don't mess my guess, those are weyrs." She slants a pointed finger upwards and over, to where the backside of the rivercliffs act as a looming bowlwall.
Is everything abandoned in this future Pern? Seems so. "How… bizarre." Lendai comments, taking a few steps away from her dragon's side once the pair lands in what is presumably the 'central bowl' of the Weyr. She just stares for a few, long moments, eyes washing over what is so much less ruined than Southern Weyr. "I wonder why they left… there isn't nearly as much damage here… do you think…?" She turns on Bailey, hoping the Nowtimer goldrider will have any sort of answers. "We only had one Weyr on the southern continent, was there another being built after the comet? Was there ever any mention in the archieves that you've seen, Baliey, of another Weyr being built? Or is this… people hoping to rebuild Southern?" So many questions Lendai has, her head shaking back and forth. "Can you… can you even do that? Just make a new Weyr?" The thought alone hurts that rather traditionalist goldrider's head. "This place is huge!" The last word is yelled, the echos returning sounding haunting and void. If ever a place needed to be filled.
Greenery encroaches; the humidity of the jungles settles as a fine mist on exposed skin. Hannah, for the moment, is glad she escaped Igen without her riding leathers, as already sweat beads at her hairline. Winding back blond hair, she glances around, her left hand holding her hair off of her neck and her right hand shading her brow from Rukbat's barrage. "It's like they all just up and went." She frowns, glancing at both Bailey and Lendai, before stepping further into the sloped bowl, the upper level rising as a hilly slope to the northwest. Beneath the tangled vines and other bits of debris that form a springy sort of floor are the remnants of the weyr's rubble. "Bailey?" Implicit question resides in the interrogative of the other goldrider's name; Bailey is the nowtimer.
"I've seen— mentions about Southern, closer to my time than yours," Bailey replies, finally. "But nothing about this. It was Benden that I saw the records." Her eyes thoughtfully rest on the orange grove in the distance, farther east. "What happened here," she half-murmurs; but already there is the glint of something more in her expression, and her gaze has started to become appraising rather than awe-filled.
"Hmmm." The sound is full of curious wonderment, astonishment that an entire Weyr could just be left with nary a scratch. And yet, here it is. "I wonder if there is anything in Igen's archives." She mutters out loud, moving more away from the small group to get a better panoramic view of the large Weyrbowl. "Do you think its complete? I mean, it looks pretty complete, but I'm sure there is still some work to be done." She asks, turning towards the other two women. Talicanitath wanders farther out than her rider, moving into the upper bowl before coming back. "They must have been expecting… a huge burst of dragons at some point or something. Just to have this place built." Though with the Weyrs understaffed at this moment, it's hard to expect such a thing. Lendai comes to a stop, her head just shaking slowly, back and forth. "Maybe there was another catastrophe. Like… like a plague or something?" She truly has no answers.
"It's strange to just abandon it…" Hannah murmurs, releasing the hold on her hair to turn and consider Bailey, eyes squinting even beneath the shade of her hand. "Some mention? I wonder if it was a half-started project, maybe from the escapees of the original weyr?" An idea shot into the dark, she — like Lendai — has no idea. However, the nowtimer junior weyrwoman's expression catches her attention, narrowing green eyes in consideration. "What is it, Bailey? Are you remembering something?" Or are you SCHEMING?
"You two don't understand." Bailey's tone isn't condemning, more matter-of-fact. "There isn't organization. There isn't — wholeness, here. Benden's records reliably go back sixty turns. When new leadership move in, more often than not they destroy the records that come before them." Like a lion eating potential challenger cubs. "I've pieced together that there was… a sundering, around the last Pass." Almost two-hundred turns ago. "It was catastrophic, from what I've heard" from the jumping-forward people who saw it; "but we don't know what happened. But things did happen. I'm not sure if we'll ever find out what happened." Unless there's a serial dragon killer lurking around. "Maybe the survivors from your Southern came here." She stares around uneasily, but determined; her grey eyes shift towards Hannah's green. "We need to survey this. It gives the possibility of choice."
That choking sound? That's Lendai. Her airway got blocked at the words 'new leadership destroy the records that come before them'. "Are you kidding me? That's… that's… lunacy! Ridiculous! You don't oust the old records! How do you learn from the past? Learn from the mistakes of others?" This BAFFLES the woman. Totally and completely. "It's a goldriders duty to transcribe the events during her time at a Weyr, whether and senior or junior, then they get placed into the archives so the goldriders of the future don't randomly find a built Weyr in the middle of the damned Southern continent!" Her arms are thrown up into the air. "This time is asinine!" Pause. "No offense, Bailey. But truly, there is much work to be done here." Here as in this time, not in this place. Though the place does cause a question to form on Lendai's lips. "So we survey this place and then… what? We can't possibly let this huge of a discovery go unused."
The talk of destroyed records earns a startled look from Hannah, but while Lendai rails against the current time's ineptness, the younger goldrider is caught up on Bailey's spoken-yet-not-spoken observation. "If we were to take advantage of it, it would." Teeth nibble on her bottom lip while she takes the steps necessary to close the distance between her and Lendai. Dhiammarath's head turns enough to affix whirling blue-tinged eyes to the group. "Lendai," a gentle touch comes to play at the once-Senior's sleeve. "Igen is crowded. Vergora and Sadaiya prove as much. The catastrophe that happened…" She glances back to Bailey, stating slowly, "We could survey and then…" Voice lowers as she comes to the conclusion prompted by the nowtimer goldrider. "… possibly have a way to relieve Igen of it's over-population of golds." Aka, move. Did Br'er, Ri'enn, and W'rin think they'd get to keep all of their purloined gold dragons?!
Bailey patiently withstands Lendai's vent with the facial expression of a woman LONG used to listening to older goldriders blast away at her with vehemence. "Trust me," with only the thinnest of smiles: "If you want to speak of the incompetence of my contemporaries, it will require more time than we have on our current hands." She's quiet while listening to Hannah's suggestions, though, and suddenly looking awkward and out of place; all well and good for the Oldtimers, isn't it? She sets her jaw and moves forwards, finding the drop between lower- and upper-bowl the hard way: her cursing is fantastically varied and intensely low as she spins around, flails, loses her balance and falls right on her ass on the ledge/lip between them. Whups.
"I… err." Lendai makes a face. "You are the exception thus far, Bailey, I hope you know that. You don't act at all like the other goldriders I've met." Which is basically just Vergora, but hey, that's still a compliment! Hannah's words take a moment to fully take root in the oldest goldrider's head. Too busy was her mind focused on the destruction of records. It's a few precious moments of silence before that lightbulb, having been quite dim these days, finally clicks on. Her eyes widen and she's turning towards Hannah, both hands going up onto the younger goldrider's shoulders. A little shake is given to the more diminutive rider, before Lendai is essentially taking off at a run. Her excitement BURSTING at the seams. She's running back now, back to her two fellows. "Yes! Yes, Hannah, yes!" Hands are clapped with a childlike glee. "That's a brilliant idea, a wonderful plan!" She stops, moving towards Bailey as she spies the woman taking a fall to her rump. "We all could come here — all three of us — maybe even Tuli too, though we'd need to ask. Sadaiya and Vergora can have Igen," Assuming Vergora lives, that is. "Would you move with us, Bailey? Or are your bound to Igen at the moment? It'd be helpful, having a goldrider from this time to join us. Your knowledge far outweighs ours of the conduct that occurs now." Her hand is held out to the other younger woman, hopefulness in her eyes. C'mon. Let's be the Three Amigos!
Shake. Shake-shake. HannahMilkShake blinks at the sudden exuberance shown by Lendai, taking a moment to register the former-Senior's glee. Then a smile forms — patient and amused, though not condescending — when Lendai's offering Bailey sanctuary within their oldtimer ranks. "Igen is too tightly packed with queens. It's soon-to-be a Pass, and there will be gold eggs lain by all of us, I'd imagine, at some point." She knows well the rising clutch numbers of a Pass. A glance briefly given to Dhiammarath. "And this way we're not a strain on Igen, who will need to prepare…" Welcoming — and yes, a touch excited by the prospect of discovering a new place — but also hesitant as foreboding creeps in. "The Pass is supposed to start in two turns, we've been told." Now she looks to confirmation from Bailey — as if the other junior is already one of their compadres, no matter what Bailey may actually say. "Jivayath has already proven to be more than viable. If the word that's coming out of that flight is true, even if half is, she's capable as a Pass queen if she's able to take down another," albeit older, wrinklier, weaker gold, "in flight."
It's a mark of Bailey's state of mind that her eyes fill up with unshed tears at Lendai's most earnest offer and the hand up. She sniffs none-too-daintily — it's more like a hiccuped snort, really — and swipes a hand under her eyes, muttering something about allergies. THEN she takes that hand and pushes herself up out of the muck, a tentative smile on her face: it looks out of place, as if she's far out of habit of such things. "Of course I would," states the weyr-bouncing goldrider immediately. She confirms Hannah's question with a firm nod: "By the Red Star, the Starcrafters are saying two turns."
Lendai almost leans forward to hug the Nowtimer goldrider, but she cuts herself off and simply gives the girl a hearty handshake once she is lifted to her feet. Hugs can come later. "Good! Excellent!" She drops Bailey's hand, waves over Hannah. It's a freaking Trinity over here. Bring forth the goldriders who are different, who are shunned, who are aching for a place to call their own. Southern Weyr will be their place! Talicanitath is obviously pleased with this turn of events, the large-but-not-as-huge-as-her-however-many-times-great-grandma gold throwing her head into the air and letting out a loud trumpet. The sound ricocheting off of the empty Weyr's walls, causing Lendai to wince just a tad. Her eyes unfocus a moment, then her vision goes sharp once more. "It seems as if the flight — both flights— are," Ahem. "wrapping up. Talicanitath says there were some major injuries." Frowning a moment, the woman shakes her head. "So a needless power struggle." Sigh. "I'll be happy once we are out of Igen, once we are here." Though for all she knows the insides of the Weyr will take a LOT of work to restore. But that's an issue for LATER. Right now it is ALL about the happy.
Lendai is collecting a rag-tag team around her of goldriders who need homes. "Then we've not much time if we're to turn this," Hannah states as she comes closer at Lendai's motioning, "into a home. First we need to clear away the weeds…" She bites her lip around a smile that forms to both others. "We've got two turns, girls. Jivayath and Kohleth will be clutching." If doubt resides in Hannah's tone at the senior gold's ability to clutch, well… who'd blame her? "That means eggs on the sands and four of us still in the weyr. Any of us could go up without warning with this many fertile females." Dhiammarath warbles to Talicanitath's tumpetting sound. "We should find as much of the Smithcraft and Woodcraft as possible to see about starting the restoration." And clean up, but that's the less glamorous job. If she keeps her thoughts — Thank Faranth this place isn't a dry, dusty desert! — to herself, all the better. "Shall we?" To both Lendai and Bailey; solidarity sisters!
Bailey can't help but beam down at Lendai, so unlike her typical sulky self. Her eyes go clouded at the mention of injuries back at Igen, however, focusing idly on the so-small Khalyssrielth - when compared against dragons of yore! - and grimacing lightly. When her eyes refocus, she has another of those rare smiles for Hannah, soft and full-lipped. "Yes," she states, slowly. "I think we shall." Her eyes lift to the heavens and then back to the debris-strewn bowl, and her sigh, however light, is certainly audible. "This place," stated with only a hint of dubious emotion, "—is going to require a lot of work." Beat. "Guess we're just going to have to find a few hundred more people who think like we do." Her cocky half-grin is much more her norm, as if to sum up the point. Finding a few hundred people willing to uproot everything they know and travel to a dilapidated weyr in the middle of nowhere? Couldn't be that hard… right?
Lendai's merry band of merry women! Or sexy women. Sexy, goldriding women. "We should be able to do it in two turns." Confidence is her middle name. "Shells, in that time, we should be able to at least get a clutch out of each of our dragons. Assuming Talicanitath is able to get on the same vibe as your two," Interval dragons versus pass dragon. "We could easily have one hundred new dragonriders before Thread falls!" Just ignore the fact that they would essentially still be weyrlings. Shhh! A grin goes from Hannah to Bailey. "We'll send out a call. Asking for anyone sick of their Weyr and wanting a fresh start in a beautiful new location. Nowtimers and oldtimers alike, we will not be prejudiced against anyone. We'll… find a way to combine the two ways of thinking, of living, into a cohesive Weyr." Somehow. Those kinks can totally be worked out later. Lendai cracks her knuckles, the usually prissy goldrider ready and willing to get down and dirty. An arm sweeps towards the Weyr proper, her other hand motioning the younger women forward. "After you," she states, then walks on herself. Into the future.
"We'll figure something out," Hannah's carefree laughter lasts only so long, as the future holds hope for the three of them. Secretly, she might be rejoicing in getting away from the pesky greenrider who's now got his new knot. Still, the hope-filled smiles and light laughter lasts only as long as it takes to get back to her lifemate. As the others take to the skies — this time in tandem with each other — they return to fear, chaos, and something more ominous: Vergora's potentially unraveling mental state. Kohleth, who's proven to not be infertile (so far) and the rising tide of people that promise only more as Candidates are pulled in. As sunny and carefree as this summer afternoon in the southern hemisphere may have been, it will be a bright spot in the coming days ahead. Thread is coming, and winter is already here.
GOLDVENGERS, ASSEMBLE.
Ha, this scene was great! (Somewhere, Br'er has a weird sense of a plan going off the rails.)
"Southern? Full of people?" her voice is incredulous: that's like saying people live at CROM.
Love Bailey. So much.