Post by Esko on Sept 2, 2018 8:13:08 GMT -5
I wasn't sure where else to put this, to be honest, but I did want to share Mel's bio and post tryouts whether I won or lost. I lost, so here you go! In case you want to read it.
Part 1: Refreshed Bio
NAME: Melana
RANK: Gold Weyrling
AGE: 18
GENDER: Female
ORIENTATION: Bisexual
DRAGON: Gold Sularenth
PETS: ---
APPEARANCE: For someone of such prowess and attitude, Melana is a tiny woman. She stands at a final height of 5’3, a fact that she isn’t keen of and tries to ignore as much as possible. The best reaction for anybody who points it out is a stern glare and a threatening growl from her dragon. The burdens of both wrangling young crechebrats and Weyrlinghood have worked wonders for her strength, as she is nicely toned. Some of the more traditionally-minded men might be surprised at her muscle, but that doesn’t worry her; the hidebound ways of Holdbred men are too tiny of a problem for her to concern herself with. In fact, it only encourages her. While short, Melana is far from slight; her limbs are long, with her arms melding into long fingers at the ends. If anything is dainty about her, it’s her hands and feet. Melana is built like a runner; smallish breasts, trim waist, and moderately wide hips, along with long legs to compliment it all. She is not without feminine curve, though she is not quite as shapely as some other women may be.
For when she’s actually smiling and not glaring others to death, Melana can be described as having a very pretty face. Mahogany hair falls from her head in loose waves around a heart-shaped face, and said hair tends to be cut a few inches past her shoulderblades. She usually keeps it loose, but during chores or exercises she has no qualms tying it back. Her hair falls nicely around her shoulders, a look she doesn’t admit to spending many minutes trying to perfect. Overall her face proportions are beautiful, even if her nose is a little flattened-looking. Why should she care? She doesn’t. Her skin is rather fair, proving as a hindrance on particularly rough days in the sun. Her cheeks almost always seem a tad rosy, though most of the time she is definitely not blushing. She blames it on the wintry winds of Mavros. Perhaps the most threatening feature on Melana is her eyes; they are wide, icy blue and cuttingly sharp. The only time that one may see warmth in those eyes is when she’s dealing with children or casting her gaze upon her dragon. She generally doesn’t care for things like makeup, but occasionally one might see a slight amount of kohl to decorate her eyes. Her eyebrows are thin but full, and very shapely. Her lips are also thin, but in a rather pretty way; they are peach colored and soft.
Melana’s clothes are utilitarian when she can help it, and some may interpret it more as tomboyish. Her dragon garners enough attention already, she feels no need to accentuate it with flashy or elaborate clothes. Leave that to rich Holder ladies who can waste their marks on those things. She prefers tops with deep, earthy tones, including deep greens and vibrant blues. She rather likes the color blue, but doesn’t like to overdo it on the color. Melana likes jackets, light ones specifically. Her trademark jacket is a pale tan one, with well-sized pockets to hold whatever she needs. And she wears pants; she finds them to be much more useful than the little skirts or dresses women are often expected to wear. When she has to dress formally, she sticks to a simple skirt and blouse, usually of a purple or blue tone. Hey, the color works on her, she’ll use it. She doesn’t wear jewelry, even though she could probably afford it as a nearly-graduated Junior Weyrwoman, but the habit is instilled in her to go without. She does wear a worn-out bracelet the crechebrats made her, after scrounging up loose threads and beads from the Weaver’s quarters. It actually holds something special in her heart, that children would go out of their way and risk getting in trouble for her. It might not be of Blooded quality, but shard it it’s wonderful.
PERSONALITY FAULTS:
While she may not be outwardly violent, her methods are cutthroat and brutal. Let her gold be loud about it, but she can find power through other means. Melana is ambition personified, and desires nothing but to be the top dog in the park. While she has her moral limits, she always seeks to increase her position until she gains the highest power, and now her goals are set to the much-envied position of Weyrwoman. After Impressing Sularenth, Melana realized that even more chances to seize power are now in her reach, and someday she could be the one in charge of Mavros. No, not could; would. Along with the desire to have everyone under her thumb, she holds an assuring confidence in herself that others might envy. Maybe her successful Impression to gold amplified her power-hungry tendencies, maybe it didn’t. Whatever happened, she is careful not to shout about her dreams and goals. She plots and schemes behind a reserved fasade, and she has no problem waiting until it’s her time to strike. But once the time is right, she will take it. Opportunistic? Of course! With so many opportunities, who wouldn’t take whatever ones come their way?
If her gaze is sharp, her tongue is sharper. She knows how to use it too, making her all the more dangerous. Melana is curt and waspish, fine with expressing her anger and not caring who’s fragile feelings get squashed in the process. If anyone isn’t strong enough to deal with her, they aren’t worth her time. Indeed, she is rather cold and doesn’t care about what others feel, not one bit. So what if someone sheds a tear? It doesn’t make her feel a wisp of sympathy, something she’s never seen as a problem. In fact, she sees it as a strength. It just makes it all the more easy to get what she wants. So if you tell her how heartless and terrible she is? Melana will only shrug her shoulders and tell you that she knows. It will never work as an insult, and she’ll just keep living her life without worrying about you. However, if you have something she wants, she’ll pretend to care until she gets it. Melana has a talent for manipulation, and she’ll use whatever sweet talk and coddling one needs for her to gain their trust. Even if she feels absolutely disgusted at herself for breaking character, if it leads her to the end goal she’ll do it. Will she even use her body? Possibly, but only if extremely drastic measures call for it. There are usually much better options than resorting to pole-sitting. Once she completes her goal, she’ll toss the person aside with no care as to how they might feel after the betrayal. Unless, by some strange twist of fate, she develops her own attachment. She’ll fight it and fight it until she can no longer, but she’ll avoid succumbing to her own silly desires if she can help it.
Melana joins the ranks of colorist thinkers, though she doesn’t particularly like using that term. She sees Impressing green as a shame, that only the most useless and incapable of Candidate stock have a green look towards them. Queens go to the best of the best, as queens ARE the best of the best. While, unfortunately some bronzeriders are much more worthy of a green or blue, Melana believes that some dragons do make mistakes. Luckily, her Sularenth didn’t and saw the most potential in her. This belief does give Melana a sense of superiority, and maybe some sense of arrogance too. She believes she deserves best, especially now as a goldrider. Is she a narcissist? No. But she won’t settle for less than the absolute best, in any definition of the term. She will always be looking for something new, some sort of brand-new adventure. She does have some sort of issue with commitment, especially in relationships. A love affair with her might not be the most healthy one, with Melana always looking to take control. And she gets bored quickly, soon moving on to find another source of entertainment.
PERSONALITY STRENGTHS:
While it’s rare, Melana does have a few people who have wriggled into her good graces. Those people earn her absolute loyalty, no matter what the situation may be or what life may throw at them. One wouldn’t expect someone who tosses victims aside so easily to form bonds such as these, but she defies the odds and does. These few she would never stab in the back, as it would tear her apart with guilt. Feelings? She has feelings? Of course! Melana isn’t completely heartless, and retains some sort of humanity for those she’s loyal to. She considers these people to be her family, and will fight for them if the situation calls for that. Protective to a fault, she will punch a man and bite him if it means protecting her friends from harm’s way; she has quite the experience doing just that. No matter the consequences, for her friends she will move the mountains and valleys of Pern if it means they stay safe. Still, Melana is wildly independent and doesn’t need anyone’s shoulder to cry on, thank you very much. She can handle herself and her emotions, and if needed she can confide in Sularenth. She doesn’t need a man or a woman to support her, and she would rather like to keep it that way.
Melana has quite the astonishing maternal instinct. She has a soft spot for children, especially creche children; it may be that she identifies with them, but whatever it is, she would kill a man for a child. Sure, she won’t want to go through the pain and effort of creating her own, though there’s always the chance of it happening as a dragonrider. But if there’s a child, she automatically feels the need to protect them and make sure they aren’t treated poorly, especially if they lack parental figures of their own. She will always fight for the rights of a child, and one of the few things that warms her heart is seeing a happy and nurtured kid. She also has patience that is vital to be able to stand children at their worst. This patience holds useful in not just wrangling kids, but in her ambitions and dealing with her rash dragon. She can wait until the heat death of the universe, though she might become slightly annoyed when things drag out too long. Still, it is quite impressive how long she can wait for what she wants, whether it be to become Weyrwoman or for a child to calm down.
Melana and Sularenth’s strongest shared trait might just be their sheer stubbornness. Once she decides she wants something, there is no stopping her. This and her sharp tongue build into her diplomatic abilities; she isn’t some dumb clod who will fight to lead and then have no clue what to do next, wouldn’t that just be stupid? Impeccably smart, her tongue is just as silver as it is cutting, and she can quell the masses with nothing but her words. This could work wonders should she need to negotiate with other Holds or Weyrs; her ultimate goal is to ensure Mavros enters a period of stability and prosperity. Whatever political maneuvers she has to take to reach that goal, she will take. Indeed, Melana is something of a risk-taker; she believes that you can’t get anywhere in life without taking a few leaps into the unknown, and she is quite willing to be the one to take those leaps. After all, a Weyrhold in despair has to take its luck in order to get back on its feet.
FAMILY:
Mother: Morona - Laundress (+?? Turns)
Father: A’kal of brown Drugulth (+?? Turns)
Caretaker: Sandri - Crechemother (+eh, she’s old)
HISTORY:
Morona was a laundress by day, and a teaser of dragonriders by night. She loved to poke around at the handsome hunks of High Reaches Weyr, and her stunning looks often earned herself a ride on a rider for a night. She found something about teasing dragonriders just thrilling, even if it did earn herself a few disapproving whispers from the more prudish women. A lady who was convinced she was barren, it came to her surprise when she discovered that she was to expect a babe of her own. Despite several attempts to find a dragonrider to take her between, she failed and accepted reality; she was going to be a mother. She then took care to take care of herself, and several fortnights later Morona went into labor. She gave birth during a fierce thunderstorm, while the dragonriders were out fighting Thread. The girl that resulted was as healthy and loud as a Pernese babe could be, and the woman had to admit; she was quite the beautiful baby. However, she decided she had a much better time rumbling with dragonriders than fussing over crying, pooping monsters. So, just a shy few hours after her birth, the baby was left at the creche, with just one instruction for the workers; name the girl Melana. A pretty name for a pretty girl. Morona never checked in after that; for all she cared, Melana didn’t exist.
Sandri took a shine to the girl, and took her under her care. Melana would grow up to love the elder lady, seeing her as a mother. Even though she never called her mother, the name held the same special meaning that ‘mama’ or ‘ma’ would to another child. “Sa-di” was what she managed to call her before she could form better words, and Sandri was the first word she ever spoke. The other kids in the creche, she treated as siblings would, with a perfect mixture of love and rivalry. Melana was a fierce little girl, maybe too fierce; when she wanted to fight someone, she would. She didn’t punch someone for no reason, but her little child mind sometimes skewed the definition of “good reason”. Even as a young brat, she wanted what she wanted and she took it when she wanted it. This often created problems, especially when the creche workers were trying to teach them to share. Melana didn’t want to share; if other kids wanted what she wanted, then too sharding bad.
When she was around four Turns, she happened upon a terrible sight; a pretty little blonde girl being harassed by some sod-brained boys. The girl was crying, and something in that kicked Melana to do something. She sprang into action, first telling the boys to bugger off and leave the girl alone. They didn’t take her seriously and taunted her; after all, she was nothing but a girl, why should they listen? Melana didn’t take that for an answer; she immediately drew back a balled-up fist and slung it into the first boy’s face. That got the message across; one of the other boys tried to fight her, but her small frame allowed her to slip under him and push him down. They ran off after that, and Melana helped the sniffling girl up. She introduced herself as Deidre, and Melana promised to look out after her from then on. And she did; Deidre earned a spot in her little heart, even as she became more hardened as time went on.
So life went on, with Melana and Deidre doing everything together. Deidre didn’t know who her parents were either, and it was a critical bonding point for the two. When they were ten Turns, fate dumped a familiar boy at their figurative doorstep. After a bit of friendly conversation between him and Deidre, it was revealed that he was one of the boys that bullied her when they were younger; in fact, he was the first boy that got punched in the face. Before Melana could charge up her swing, the boy backed away and refused to fight back; really, he was several dragonlengths nicer than what he’d been. He finally introduced himself as Taklon, and begrudgingly Melana accepted his existence without wanting to mess up his pretty face; but that was only because Deidre was willing to forgive him. Over the next little while, he wrestled his way from pissed tolerance to friendly acceptance to friendship, with Deidre’s help. The three of them became a tightly-knit trio that did everything together, from eating to playing to even sleeping. They were comically found in the creche sleeping in a corner, the three of them piled onto each other. Taklon took a shine to Deidre especially, partially because she kept Melana from punching him again. Over the next three Turns it was like this, with Melana defending them at every twist and turn.
But one day, Taklon vanished. Melana and Deidre looked for him everywhere, and for the next sevenday the blonde girl was riddled with hurt from his disappearance. Even Melana felt a little betrayed. She consoled her friend, who was upset easily and cried. She swore that she’d punch him if he showed up again. And showed up again he did; after that sevenday, Taklon appeared again at the creche. Melana didn’t punch him, per say, but she did tear into him with her words. How could you! Do you realize how much you hurt Deidre? You overgrown wherry sod, shame on you! Those words, along with meaner ones, were spoken. Taklon endured the verbal abuse until Melana had chewed him out enough, before giving them the news; he’d been Searched for the upcoming clutch. He quivered with excitement, and with this revelation came a complete change in mood. Few boys got the chance to Stand to become a dragonrider, and soon the girls matched his excitement. They both promised to be there when he Stood, and Melana even clapped him on the back and said she believed he’d Impress that first clutch. With a goofy grin and ecstatic eyes, Taklon returned the promise. He’d Impress bronze or brown, and rise to great heights! Wingsecond, Wingleader, shards, even Weyrleader! They were children’s dreams, but Melana and Deidre backed him up.
Every day, the girls would stand outside the Candidate’s barracks and wait for their friend to reappear. Each and every day Taklon complied, then at their insistence would spill out everything he’d learned; he had a spectacular memory, and recited each thing almost exact. He told them about how to cut meat for a young hatchling, hatching sands etiquette, bonding lessons and how to keep them oiled. That, among other things, captivated the girls and enticed them. Deidre didn’t exactly have interest in becoming a dragonrider, but she still was fascinated by the information. Meanwhile, Melana told herself to remember the information for later. She was interested, and the more she heard the more she desired a dragon herself, but alas, she was not Searched. Still, she sucked up Taklon’s gushing like a sponge, assuring herself that she would be there someday; it was only a matter of time.
The day of the Hatching. It was the Senior Queen Ferrith’s clutch. Deidre and Melana had hatched a plan to sneak out of their chores in order to watch, though Melana felt bad leaving her work behind as an aspiring creche worker. But the creche could wait. She and Deidre grabbed the two nearest seats they could find, and pushed through a few people to get them. Well, Melana did the main pushing, and Deidre followed eagerly. They watched as each egg hatched, one after the other; each dragon passing up Taklon as they searched for Theirs. At the beginning of the Hatching, it wasn’t much of a concern. However, as the number of eggs kept decreasing, the girls and Taklon grew more and more worried. But...but they promised each other he’d Impress! Melana didn’t want to be wrong! However, reality hit them when Taklon was left on the Sands, and his parents consoled him as they walked off. Taklon ran off to find his friends, and came to them with the most dejected expression on his face. First Deidre went in for a hug, then Melana. The two girls consoled him better than his parents could, and they managed to convince him that it was alright, that he’d find his dragon soon. But at the same time, Melana made a promise to herself too; she would find her own dragon, and ride off into glory.
But she wouldn’t be Searched. Why? She was overlooked each time, even as she watched Taklon fail to find his bonded each successive clutch. They were both failing at different things, both things relating to dragons. It frustrated Melana to no end. When they were fourteen, Deidre and Taklon began to be more shy around each other, something that piqued Melana’s interest. Then they became much more affectionate, and Melana found she didn’t like that. At all. See, Deidre was her world, the apple of her eye. She was her very first friend, and she even defended her from Taklon when he was still a major wherry. So why wasn’t Melana happy for them? It was hard for her to sort out her feelings, and it didn’t even occur to her that she might actually like her childhood friend, in a romantic sense. She buried herself in her work the best she could, all the while waiting for the day a Searchdragon would pick her out from a crowd. Unfortunately, there wasn’t much work for her to bury herself in, besides making sure crechebrats behaved. Deidre was on her way in her Harper apprenticeship, and Melana enjoyed the image of her friend dressed in Harper blue. It looked good on her, she said.
Two Turns dragged on, despair growing in the trio. Melana wouldn’t give up trying to be Searched, but Taklon was beginning to lose hope. When they were sixteen Turns, Taklon told them that this was the last clutch he’d stand for. Deidre tried to convince him otherwise, but he was firm with his decision. He went through Candidacy with less effort than before, believing that this was it for him. But fate would decide to be nice this time. Melana and Deidre filed into their seats, lacking the childish enthusiasm that they had before. The first eggs hatched, and Taklon looked at them with glum boredom. He watched as a hefty brown hatched, quite the fine specimen of his color. He made his way down the lineup of boys, looking through their minds one by one. Taklon expected to be passed over, like every other sharding time...but then he found himself knocked off his feet. The brown flattened him, though not literally, and his eyes whirled rainbow. T’lon managed to wriggle himself free, then waved to his friends. He’d done it! He’d Impressed the color of his dreams! While Deidre cheered in a more ladylike manner, Melana had stood up on her seat and hollered for the entirety of Pern to hear. She was happy for her friend, truly happy.
But also...not. See, as the next Turn went on, Melana’s jealousy bubbled and seethed, as Deidre went to see T’lon and Dionymuth as much as she could. She wanted to be happy, and she was; but the happiness clashed with her jealousy, and it just succeeded in making her more confused. She loved Deidre, oh how she loved her; she was beginning to realize her attachment might be more than just friendship. For the first time, she couldn’t do anything to get what she wanted, and it hurt. T’lon’s ambitions grew, and he held no qualms in sharing his dreams of being a Wingleader. Melana knew she wanted power, and knew what she wanted to Impress; gold. She wouldn’t settle for anything less. She would watch her gold lay fine, large clutches, and she’d watch strong offspring find Theirs. She would rise to take a Senior Gold’s place and become Weyrwoman, so she could have the power to bring them to live with her; but she’d still have bested them all. She wanted to be better. T’lon could be a Wingleader, Deidre the best Harper of the Weyr. But she’d be better. As T’lon trained with Dionymuth, she looked for any Searchdragon who would Search her, but they didn’t. Her job at the creche became boring, even if she liked the kids. Sandri told her to give up, that it was no use chasing that kind of dream. But Melana wouldn’t give up; there was no way that she would. Only aging out would stop her.
Melana had just turned seventeen, and Deidre had gone off to find her T’lon; the sex ban was lifted, so a rumble around in the sheets wouldn’t send Dionymuth between. Agitated by the thought, the redhead had been cooling off in the Weyrbowl when a blue exited between in the sky. He landed on the ground, and he wasn’t recognized as one of High Reaches’s blues. Another angry Searchdragon tried to chase the pair away with insults, but they introduced themselves as Searchers from Mavros. Mavros? Why was Mavros Searching at High Reaches, of all places? But maybe, this was her chance, the risk she needed to take. If her fate didn’t lie in High Reaches, perhaps it lay in the Weyrhold? She stood in front of the blue, and he spoke to her. He told her exactly what she wanted to hear, and she knew the blue wouldn’t lie. She was fit to Impress, to be a great rider. She’d told the bluerider she’d be back to get her things; she needed to tie some loose ends. Melana ran to her quarters, quite literally grabbing Deidre and T’lon to drag them with. Dionymuth snorted indignantly, but allowed her to bring her friends. As she grabbed a bag and began to shove her clothes in (which Deidre folded neatly) she explained what was going on. She was going to Mavros to Stand! She got a giddy grin from T’lon, who told her he hoped to see her soon. After returning the remark, Deidre flung her arms around Melana and kissed her on the cheek; the girl still remembered the electric spark it sent riveting across her. Be safe, Melly! was what she told her, with all the love in the world. She knew it wasn’t love love, but it was the great bond they shared. With those loose ends tied, she ran out to the Searchdragon and hauled herself up. And with that, the blue blinked between, and Melana endured eight seconds of sheer cold before reemerging into her new life.
And now it was time to see who she could get under her thumb. At last, the information she learned from T’lon came in handy, as she beared listening to the Candidatemaster drone on and on. She stayed quiet, of course, and stood by as others felt the need to show off in order to feel good about themselves. All the while, she couldn’t do much plotting; it wasn’t like there was much of rank among the Candidates. When they got to see the eggs on the Sands, Melana couldn’t help but be in wonder at the dual golds. So there were two chances for her to Impress a queen? It was quite curious, maybe lucky, but so far she was glad she took the risk of saying yes to Search. She suffered through the idiocy and the old bluerider’s speaking; after all, all she looked forward to was the Hatching. Still, she performed well; she was going to be the best out of all these blokes, no matter what.
And then, the day of Zalmaranth’s Hatching came. Melana had grabbed her Candidate’s robes, putting them on quickly before catching a ride to the Sands. When her feet touched the ground once more, she rushed to find the nearest spot to the queen eggs; surely, other girls would want to grab that spot. Surprisingly, it was open, and she stationed herself next to a boy. She learned the boy’s name; Belizor. He was strong, tanned…handsome. Oh no, she was developing a new crush! At some point, she managed to cling to his arm, and they had entered a conversation while they waited. But then, a movement! The bigger egg jerked to one side, starling the brown hatchling near it. The smaller egg cracked open first, then the larger one, and Melana saw her dream gold right in front of her; large, impressive, with rippling muscles and large wings. She wasn’t beautiful like the other girl, but she was magnificent. As the brown Impressed to Belizor beside her, she wanted to will one of the golds towards her; even the smaller one would still be a gold, and gold was good. She couldn’t be left for green! She just couldn’t! But, fate smiled on her, and the larger gold knocked aside another girl to stand in front of her. Melana was captivated by the rainbow eyes, the absolutely beautiful shape of the gold. Her gold. My sister is welcome to all of these weak females, but you are mine, Melana. I am your Sularenth. The words were like Deidre’s music to her ears. She was sure to write about this.
Immediately, Melana dove into focusing on the care of her new dragon, though she did spare time to write Deidre and T’lon a letter. She detailed what had happened during the Hatching, that she’d possibly found a new friend, and that she’d Impressed gold. She gushed about her Sularenth, and promised that soon they could come to Mavros. She sent the letter, and waited for a response while she followed along in lessons. Sularenth was close to her ‘twin’ Danovelith, and so Melana learned the name of her bonded; Srunae. The Holdbred girl didn’t seem like much at first; quiet, modest, pretty. But then, something sparked in the girl; she wanted to beat Srunae. She couldn’t pinpoint the source of this new desire, but she wanted to graduate at the top of the class. She wanted to graduate above Srunae. And she would; oh she would. She would be the best queen Mavros would ever see. She worked hard in lessons, relishing moments like gliding over the lake on Sula’s back and knocking a wooden sword out of the tailfork G’drin’s hand. All the while, she aimed to beat the other goldweyrling in everything she did. Only time would tell if it worked. Fortnights passed, and there was no response from Deidre or T’lon. In month sixteen of Weyrlinghood, Melana sent another letter, wondering if perhaps her letter had gotten lost.
Part 2: Rewritten Impression
Melana clung to Belizor’s arm still, wondering if the man simply didn’t mind. She had to admit, she was quite enjoying this conversation they were having. But she enjoyed his pretty face more. Her eyes trailed the brown that recently hatched, as he teetered towards the gold eggs. ”Gotta admit, he’s a good-looking brown. Built like a blue, though.” She commented, watching his movements; but only because he was near the golds. One of those gold eggs held her future, her pride and joy. At least, she hoped they did. Doubt began to flower in her, but she tried her best to crush it; they weren’t even hatched yet! She couldn’t be ridiculous, and she couldn’t let an ounce of uncertainty show. Dragons were searching her mind, and if her dream gold saw it? Well, she’d likely turn a blind eye. Melana’s foot began to tap lightly on the sand, and finally she let go of Belizor’s arm. Okay, she needed to relax. Breathe. She wasn’t normally so nervous, was she? Was it just her being on the Sands for the first time?
Aha! Melana spotted movement out of the corner of her eye, and turned her head to the larger queen egg. The egg was leaning to the opposite side that it was before. Could it be...first, chips began to fly off of the smaller egg, the little dragonet inside delicately breaking the shell that held it prisoner. And sure enough, a gold slid out; quite the pretty one, too. The larger egg shook violently, but didn’t crack; that was alright. Melana grinned; this was it. This was her first chance. How many girls had two chances to Impress gold and gain all that power? Even if she wouldn’t be the Senior right away, if she Impressed then someday she would. She was sure of it. The little gold crooned at her sister egg, which was still rocking. Finally, after a grand display of dramatic bravado, the big egg burst into pieces to reveal a bright and shiny hide. The bigger girl’s tail lashed threateningly, her personality being made known from that very spot. She was a tough girl who needed an even tougher woman to wrangle her.
Melana was that woman, she was sure.
Suddenly, time seemed to speed up. The unfortunate brown was her first victim to scare, as she screeched violently at him. He scampered away from her...and towards her? No, he wasn’t headed towards her; he was headed slightly to the side. He bounded up to Belizor, his eyes whirling with rainbow. ”Congrats!” she called to B’zor, as the new brownweyrling was led off the sands by his bonded. It was easier to be nicer to people when she liked them, so at least the comment sounded somewhat genuine. The bigger gold looked rather pissed off, but her sister crooned at her to...calm her down? She seemed to be angry at the brown, who was now off the sands, so now she seemed a little cooled down. Melana kept her icy stare on the golds, trying to open herself up as much as possible. Though, frankly she wasn’t sure if that would help at all. You couldn’t con a dragon, she heard. A dragon searched your mind, surely no amount of mental blocking would help. Not like she knew how. The bigger gold followed her little sister around the girls, which was quite comical. Melana half expected the bossy gold to parade her little sister around; but then again, maybe she was being smart and taking her time.
The two golds were headed to a girl near her, and Melana suddenly felt her heart race. This was it. One of those golds would Impress, the other would move on and search. One of them would search her. While the smaller gold’s eyes whirled the signature colors of Impression, the larger one shoved the Impresee away from her. That might be a little rude, but the queen finding Hers was much more important. With that said and done, the young queen walked to search more ladies, walking by Melana...and then she stopped. Without hesitation, she stood in front of Melana and her eyes whirled, but this time the girl felt something. My sister is welcome to all of these weak females, but you are mine, Melana. I am your Sularenth. The voice rang in her head, clear as day. She smiled, the biggest smile she ever could possibly fit on her face. ”You’re...you’re here. You’re real. You-you’re a gold!” She exclaimed. She’d gotten exactly what she wanted, she bested T’lon. A whole new world of possibilities was open to her, and finally her dreams could be made a reality. The satisfaction of getting what she wanted amplified the wondrous euphoria of Impression. It was like walking in a dream.
Yes, I’m real, yes I’m a gold, and yes, I’m hungry. Sularenth growled, pushing her hunger onto her bonded to hurry her along. Of course Melana was willing to comply. With star-struck eyes, she led her little queen off the sands. She couldn’t wait to tell them, to graduate and then be able to fly on golden wings to High Reaches. I’m coming for you, Deidre. You’ll love me even more now.
Part 3: Weyrlinghood
Month 1: Sula’s First Swim
Had it already been a month? It sounded cliche, but for Melana the days seemed to melt into one another. She’d had a rather fitful sleep, mostly because of her excitement at finally sending the letter. She found a firelizard to send the letter, and hopefully it reached Deidre soon enough. In the letter, she gushed about Sularenth and added some bits about B’zor. Of course, she didn’t mention that the sight of his face made her feel squishy and disgusting inside. Honestly, Melanamine. Why do you focus on a stupid brownrider? You’re stronger than that. Sularenth hissed, as the two of them walked to their first lesson.
’I am, which is exactly why I’m not acting on it.’ She wanted to, even though Deidre clung to the back of her mind. Oh, the girl held her heart for sure. But somehow, B’zor also wriggled his way in. She new his little brown had no chance of catching Sula, which for a second she wished wasn’t true.
Seriously? Get that hideous thought out of your head this instant. Why can’t you like the bronzers? Maybe talk to Nadornith’s?
The two of them arrived at the lake, lining up between B’zor and G’drin. The latter looked at Melana and gave her a cheeky grin. Scowling, Melana returned her focus to Sula. ’D’nel looks like a skeezebag. He could make a good ally, but I swear if I wake up next to him…’ He reminded her of a tunnelsnake, especially in his face. He wasn’t even cute. But, it was better to not make enemies with him. Perhaps he could be useful in the future. Melana’s attention was grabbed by the Weyrlingmaster barking orders about the dragons swimming. Shards and shells, she hated K’ton. The fact that he was a bronzerider was even worse. His bronze could catch Sula, and she didn’t want him to have that ego-boost. Relief washed over her when he was done yapping, and she nodded at Sula. ’You heard him, Sula. Show them who’s the best swimmer.’
Hmph. This is futile. We could be fixing so many aspects of the Weyr right now. But if I have to… With a mental scowl, Sularenth stepped into the water. She ventured further with encouragement from Melana, which she insisted she didn’t need. She looked so regal, with her head held high. She paddled towards Danovelith and avoided the browns of their class. Melana looked towards B’zor, as his eyes followed his brown. ”So, uh, Litniroth’s swimming pretty well.” She said, trying not to stammer. Seriously, what was it about this bloke that attracted her?
B’zor smiled slightly back at her. “Thanks. Sularenth’s swimming well too.” The compliment made her feel gushy, and she hated it. She couldn’t let herself be distracted by B’zor’s prettiness. He had no use for her, and yet… Sularenth paddled in the lake, slewing out useless orders while she stayed close to her golden sister. Litniroth, piss off. Thundosomth, you’re not impressive, get away from me. Sleeduth, quit looking at Danovelith or I swear to shells, you’re dead.
’Sula, please. You don’t need to give anyone orders. You need to smoothtalk people into supporting you.’ Melana chided, earning a snort.
Why? I am a queen. Everyone must listen to me. Okay, she had a point. As a gold, she commanded natural respect from dragons.
’Maybe dragons, but their human counterparts are a different story. I’ll teach you some tricks later. You’re tired, admit it.’
No! A pause. Maybe. I’m coming back in. Keeping an eye on her gold twin, Sularenth swam back to shore. She stood up and shook herself off. And next time, don’t put yourself between two brownriders.
Month 8: A Real-Life Game of Dragonrider
The air felt still, the sky clear blue and cloudless. It was a perfect day for a casual fly, but for some, the day was anything but casual. The Spring Storms weyrlings had had their first flights two months before, and every day after that, but this was different. Melana remembered the games of dragonrider she would play with her creche peers, and later Deidre and T’lon. It was hard to believe that today, that would happen. She would be playing real-life dragonrider. She was one of the lucky few, even luckier that she got to play with a queen. Sularenth bristled beside her, the massive gold brimming with muscle. She was ready. They were ready, ready to show everyone that she was the best of them all. Better than Srunae, especially. Melana fastened their flight straps, dressed in full gear. She gave the gold’s flank a hearty pat. ’Those feel tight enough?’
Yes. She said curtly, her tail threateningly waving back and forth. They listened to K’ton drone on, and most of what he was saying was common sense. Yawn, I’m bored. Can we fly already? She wanted to say it directly to Sorth, but refrained at Melana’s order. Hmph. He has too much to say. Are other weyrlings really this stupid?
’Yes.’ Soon, K’ton was done rasping about safety and protocol and wherryshit. They were called up individually for short flights over the lake, and immediately Sularenth stepped forward. We are going. After receiving affirmation from Sorth, Melana quickly darted onto Sula’s back. Her body pulsed with electrifying excitement at the thought of flight with her bonded. Despite growing up at a Weyr, she never set herself on a dragon’s back. ’Ready?’ Sula huffed, but Melana could feel she was. They got the all-clear to go. The gold flapped her wings like she did every day, and lifted off the ground. Soon enough, the surface of Ildath Lake was under her great gold belly, and the goldweyrling whooped. They were flying. She was finally flying! Sula bugled; even the grumpy gold would smile if she could. Adrenaline ran through her blood, and it felt terrible when they were called to land again. She wanted to fly to the moons themselves! It was irrational, but finally passing this milestone gave her a high of sorts. The pair turned around and touched down on the sand, and Melana took off her goggles. Wow, what a ride! But this wasn’t even the halfway point. It would be a while before they could truly fly free.
Month 16: G’drin Deserves It
Two months. Two sharding months, and Melana would be a full Junior Weyrwoman. She was so close, and now more than ever she had to ensure she graduated at the top of the class. She worked extra hard and studied harder. There was no way she would fail her final exams and be held back, she’d put too much effort in to fail. Right now, she had to channel her energy into self-defense and sparring. Melana currently held a wooden practice stick in her hand, as she waited to hear who her partner was. Last time she’d had B’zor, it nearly turned out as a disaster, and she sincerely hoped she had a less distracting opponent. Then immediately regretted that wish, as her name was yelled out in conjunction with G’drin’s. The cheeky brownrider would never hold much power, she could tell that was true. As such, there was no use trying to use him. The two of them walked up to each other, the man immediately grinning at her. “Hey, baby. Sorry, I don’t wanna hurt ya pretty face.”
”Good thing I’m not fragile.” Melana snapped back, as she raised her stick. G’drin raised his in turn. His stance was faulty, this should be easy.
“Ooo, you got bite! I mean, I knew ya had some spice, but not this much!” He cackled, as she met his thrust with a parry. B’zor snuck her a sympathetic look.
”You talk too much. The goldweyrling glared at him with her icy eyes, thrusting herself. G’drin barely parried it. That wasn’t enough to beat down his ego, though.
“There’s more where it comes from, baby.”
”That’s the problem.”
“Are ya sure? You can’t deny this pretty face, can ya? You’re definitely pretty. Your dragon isn’t, but you definitely are.” Was he just trying to get easy sex? Too bad she wasn’t an easy lay. And how dare he call Sula ugly! She attacked with aggressiveness this time, and the brownweyrling blocked once again. “Ooo, now this is picking up! Y’know, maybe after this, if you have some free time, you can see how massive I am. Not many girls get it, you’d be-”
Melana slid her stick underneath his and spun it, knocking his weapon right out of his hand. She held the end of the stick to his chest. ”I win.” She smoothly retorted, gaining sweet satisfaction from seeing the smile wiped off his face. ”I like my men with class, thank you very much.” Not bothering to pay attention to him any longer, she awaited the next round of partner calls. And hopefully, she got a more competent opponent this time.
Month 8 Gold Lesson: Arbitrations Begin!
The memory of her first flight with Sula lingered in the back of her mind as Melana made her way to another one of her special lessons. She had her hair tied back today, and she was feeling pretty good. It felt great to know she was one of the few Pernese who would ever have these kinds of lessons, and the thought of being special was nice. She arrived in the cavern where most of these lessons took place, and took her seat. The instructor introduced the kind of lesson; from now until month thirteen, she and Srunae would have arbitration lessons. Alright, that was simple enough. Pretend she was confronted to break up some sort of squabble between weyrfolk. The instructor gave her the scenario; she pretended to be someone who was accused of stealing her friend’s prized possession, a sheet of expensive gossamer.
”Well, the solution is relatively simple.” Melana began, her hands cupped together on her lap. ”Look through their belongings; any amount of sparkly material is sure to be noticable. If they protest, it’s likely that they’re guilty, of possessing the gossamer or of something worse. If they stole just the gossamer, their punishment shouldn’t be too severe. For a first-time offense, they will give up the fabric and be warned. Obviously, if they try something again, it’ll get worse until they’re kicked out of the Weyr.” She sat back and waited to be given feedback. The instructor gave her criticism. Her eye twitched, but she internalized it well. She had to learn how to be a good Weyrwoman, or else mutiny would occur and she might be overthrown. ”Alright, I understand.” She said curtly, then reached out to Sularenth while she waited for Srunae to give her response. She would tune back in for the feedback. The queen wanted her to come back, but she couldn’t. She had to sit and wait.
Month 13: Flamethrowing, Except Without the Flame.
Weyrlinghood slogged on, and it was still five months before she would graduate. Besides the promises of hidework for most of her life as a goldrider, she couldn’t wait. Melana dressed for the weather, and had her sleeves rolled up. Today, she would learn how to use a flamethrower in combating Thread, though the expectation was that Thread wouldn’t make it far through the Wings. As she briskly walked, Melana’s mind wandered to Deidre. She began expecting a reply, and tried to hold her patience. When it came to Deidre, the girl did strange things to her. Love was horribly inconvenient, but it also got her through each day of Weyrlinghood. Was she alright? She hoped T’lon was treating her right. No doubt they were well on the way to being weyrmated, a thought that embittered her. It wasn’t fair. Why couldn’t Deidre love her and not him? Did she miss her? Melana certainly did. They would be reunited soon enough, once she could visit them and convince them to come to Mavros.
Alright, handling flamethrowers wasn’t going to be helped by a bad mood, so Melana did her best to clear her head. She arrived to the training grounds, where one of the goldriders was waiting. Once she and Srunae were there, they were given the lecture on the machine’s basic use and care. Okay, pull a trigger, hold it a certain way. Don’t let anything spill out of the cartridges while reloading. Make sure the flamethrower is kept clean and report anything that looks or feels wrong. Really, most of this was common sense, much like K’ton’s droning. Still, the older woman was dragonlengths easier to listen to than that rotting old sod they entrusted with the lives of weyrlings. So, it was much easier for Melana to be invested in the lesson. The parts of the flamethrower were demonstrated and displayed, and it was when it came time to practice that Melana would be very disappointed. She wouldn’t get to actually USE the flamethrower until later in the month. Oh well. She could wait. The day was spent learning how to properly hold it, and for the most part Melana did well. The goldrider would correct her stance at times, but the lesson passed by with little trouble. Tomorrow, they were to expect more time spent on the mechanics of the machine itself, and how wind could dictate how the flamethrower was used. With that settled, she and Srunae were released to rejoin the rest of their class. Melana looked forward to seeing her gold again, and to the next meal. Boy, was she hungry!
Part 1: Refreshed Bio
NAME: Melana
RANK: Gold Weyrling
AGE: 18
GENDER: Female
ORIENTATION: Bisexual
DRAGON: Gold Sularenth
PETS: ---
APPEARANCE: For someone of such prowess and attitude, Melana is a tiny woman. She stands at a final height of 5’3, a fact that she isn’t keen of and tries to ignore as much as possible. The best reaction for anybody who points it out is a stern glare and a threatening growl from her dragon. The burdens of both wrangling young crechebrats and Weyrlinghood have worked wonders for her strength, as she is nicely toned. Some of the more traditionally-minded men might be surprised at her muscle, but that doesn’t worry her; the hidebound ways of Holdbred men are too tiny of a problem for her to concern herself with. In fact, it only encourages her. While short, Melana is far from slight; her limbs are long, with her arms melding into long fingers at the ends. If anything is dainty about her, it’s her hands and feet. Melana is built like a runner; smallish breasts, trim waist, and moderately wide hips, along with long legs to compliment it all. She is not without feminine curve, though she is not quite as shapely as some other women may be.
For when she’s actually smiling and not glaring others to death, Melana can be described as having a very pretty face. Mahogany hair falls from her head in loose waves around a heart-shaped face, and said hair tends to be cut a few inches past her shoulderblades. She usually keeps it loose, but during chores or exercises she has no qualms tying it back. Her hair falls nicely around her shoulders, a look she doesn’t admit to spending many minutes trying to perfect. Overall her face proportions are beautiful, even if her nose is a little flattened-looking. Why should she care? She doesn’t. Her skin is rather fair, proving as a hindrance on particularly rough days in the sun. Her cheeks almost always seem a tad rosy, though most of the time she is definitely not blushing. She blames it on the wintry winds of Mavros. Perhaps the most threatening feature on Melana is her eyes; they are wide, icy blue and cuttingly sharp. The only time that one may see warmth in those eyes is when she’s dealing with children or casting her gaze upon her dragon. She generally doesn’t care for things like makeup, but occasionally one might see a slight amount of kohl to decorate her eyes. Her eyebrows are thin but full, and very shapely. Her lips are also thin, but in a rather pretty way; they are peach colored and soft.
Melana’s clothes are utilitarian when she can help it, and some may interpret it more as tomboyish. Her dragon garners enough attention already, she feels no need to accentuate it with flashy or elaborate clothes. Leave that to rich Holder ladies who can waste their marks on those things. She prefers tops with deep, earthy tones, including deep greens and vibrant blues. She rather likes the color blue, but doesn’t like to overdo it on the color. Melana likes jackets, light ones specifically. Her trademark jacket is a pale tan one, with well-sized pockets to hold whatever she needs. And she wears pants; she finds them to be much more useful than the little skirts or dresses women are often expected to wear. When she has to dress formally, she sticks to a simple skirt and blouse, usually of a purple or blue tone. Hey, the color works on her, she’ll use it. She doesn’t wear jewelry, even though she could probably afford it as a nearly-graduated Junior Weyrwoman, but the habit is instilled in her to go without. She does wear a worn-out bracelet the crechebrats made her, after scrounging up loose threads and beads from the Weaver’s quarters. It actually holds something special in her heart, that children would go out of their way and risk getting in trouble for her. It might not be of Blooded quality, but shard it it’s wonderful.
PERSONALITY FAULTS:
While she may not be outwardly violent, her methods are cutthroat and brutal. Let her gold be loud about it, but she can find power through other means. Melana is ambition personified, and desires nothing but to be the top dog in the park. While she has her moral limits, she always seeks to increase her position until she gains the highest power, and now her goals are set to the much-envied position of Weyrwoman. After Impressing Sularenth, Melana realized that even more chances to seize power are now in her reach, and someday she could be the one in charge of Mavros. No, not could; would. Along with the desire to have everyone under her thumb, she holds an assuring confidence in herself that others might envy. Maybe her successful Impression to gold amplified her power-hungry tendencies, maybe it didn’t. Whatever happened, she is careful not to shout about her dreams and goals. She plots and schemes behind a reserved fasade, and she has no problem waiting until it’s her time to strike. But once the time is right, she will take it. Opportunistic? Of course! With so many opportunities, who wouldn’t take whatever ones come their way?
If her gaze is sharp, her tongue is sharper. She knows how to use it too, making her all the more dangerous. Melana is curt and waspish, fine with expressing her anger and not caring who’s fragile feelings get squashed in the process. If anyone isn’t strong enough to deal with her, they aren’t worth her time. Indeed, she is rather cold and doesn’t care about what others feel, not one bit. So what if someone sheds a tear? It doesn’t make her feel a wisp of sympathy, something she’s never seen as a problem. In fact, she sees it as a strength. It just makes it all the more easy to get what she wants. So if you tell her how heartless and terrible she is? Melana will only shrug her shoulders and tell you that she knows. It will never work as an insult, and she’ll just keep living her life without worrying about you. However, if you have something she wants, she’ll pretend to care until she gets it. Melana has a talent for manipulation, and she’ll use whatever sweet talk and coddling one needs for her to gain their trust. Even if she feels absolutely disgusted at herself for breaking character, if it leads her to the end goal she’ll do it. Will she even use her body? Possibly, but only if extremely drastic measures call for it. There are usually much better options than resorting to pole-sitting. Once she completes her goal, she’ll toss the person aside with no care as to how they might feel after the betrayal. Unless, by some strange twist of fate, she develops her own attachment. She’ll fight it and fight it until she can no longer, but she’ll avoid succumbing to her own silly desires if she can help it.
Melana joins the ranks of colorist thinkers, though she doesn’t particularly like using that term. She sees Impressing green as a shame, that only the most useless and incapable of Candidate stock have a green look towards them. Queens go to the best of the best, as queens ARE the best of the best. While, unfortunately some bronzeriders are much more worthy of a green or blue, Melana believes that some dragons do make mistakes. Luckily, her Sularenth didn’t and saw the most potential in her. This belief does give Melana a sense of superiority, and maybe some sense of arrogance too. She believes she deserves best, especially now as a goldrider. Is she a narcissist? No. But she won’t settle for less than the absolute best, in any definition of the term. She will always be looking for something new, some sort of brand-new adventure. She does have some sort of issue with commitment, especially in relationships. A love affair with her might not be the most healthy one, with Melana always looking to take control. And she gets bored quickly, soon moving on to find another source of entertainment.
PERSONALITY STRENGTHS:
While it’s rare, Melana does have a few people who have wriggled into her good graces. Those people earn her absolute loyalty, no matter what the situation may be or what life may throw at them. One wouldn’t expect someone who tosses victims aside so easily to form bonds such as these, but she defies the odds and does. These few she would never stab in the back, as it would tear her apart with guilt. Feelings? She has feelings? Of course! Melana isn’t completely heartless, and retains some sort of humanity for those she’s loyal to. She considers these people to be her family, and will fight for them if the situation calls for that. Protective to a fault, she will punch a man and bite him if it means protecting her friends from harm’s way; she has quite the experience doing just that. No matter the consequences, for her friends she will move the mountains and valleys of Pern if it means they stay safe. Still, Melana is wildly independent and doesn’t need anyone’s shoulder to cry on, thank you very much. She can handle herself and her emotions, and if needed she can confide in Sularenth. She doesn’t need a man or a woman to support her, and she would rather like to keep it that way.
Melana has quite the astonishing maternal instinct. She has a soft spot for children, especially creche children; it may be that she identifies with them, but whatever it is, she would kill a man for a child. Sure, she won’t want to go through the pain and effort of creating her own, though there’s always the chance of it happening as a dragonrider. But if there’s a child, she automatically feels the need to protect them and make sure they aren’t treated poorly, especially if they lack parental figures of their own. She will always fight for the rights of a child, and one of the few things that warms her heart is seeing a happy and nurtured kid. She also has patience that is vital to be able to stand children at their worst. This patience holds useful in not just wrangling kids, but in her ambitions and dealing with her rash dragon. She can wait until the heat death of the universe, though she might become slightly annoyed when things drag out too long. Still, it is quite impressive how long she can wait for what she wants, whether it be to become Weyrwoman or for a child to calm down.
Melana and Sularenth’s strongest shared trait might just be their sheer stubbornness. Once she decides she wants something, there is no stopping her. This and her sharp tongue build into her diplomatic abilities; she isn’t some dumb clod who will fight to lead and then have no clue what to do next, wouldn’t that just be stupid? Impeccably smart, her tongue is just as silver as it is cutting, and she can quell the masses with nothing but her words. This could work wonders should she need to negotiate with other Holds or Weyrs; her ultimate goal is to ensure Mavros enters a period of stability and prosperity. Whatever political maneuvers she has to take to reach that goal, she will take. Indeed, Melana is something of a risk-taker; she believes that you can’t get anywhere in life without taking a few leaps into the unknown, and she is quite willing to be the one to take those leaps. After all, a Weyrhold in despair has to take its luck in order to get back on its feet.
FAMILY:
Mother: Morona - Laundress (+?? Turns)
Father: A’kal of brown Drugulth (+?? Turns)
Caretaker: Sandri - Crechemother (+eh, she’s old)
HISTORY:
Morona was a laundress by day, and a teaser of dragonriders by night. She loved to poke around at the handsome hunks of High Reaches Weyr, and her stunning looks often earned herself a ride on a rider for a night. She found something about teasing dragonriders just thrilling, even if it did earn herself a few disapproving whispers from the more prudish women. A lady who was convinced she was barren, it came to her surprise when she discovered that she was to expect a babe of her own. Despite several attempts to find a dragonrider to take her between, she failed and accepted reality; she was going to be a mother. She then took care to take care of herself, and several fortnights later Morona went into labor. She gave birth during a fierce thunderstorm, while the dragonriders were out fighting Thread. The girl that resulted was as healthy and loud as a Pernese babe could be, and the woman had to admit; she was quite the beautiful baby. However, she decided she had a much better time rumbling with dragonriders than fussing over crying, pooping monsters. So, just a shy few hours after her birth, the baby was left at the creche, with just one instruction for the workers; name the girl Melana. A pretty name for a pretty girl. Morona never checked in after that; for all she cared, Melana didn’t exist.
Sandri took a shine to the girl, and took her under her care. Melana would grow up to love the elder lady, seeing her as a mother. Even though she never called her mother, the name held the same special meaning that ‘mama’ or ‘ma’ would to another child. “Sa-di” was what she managed to call her before she could form better words, and Sandri was the first word she ever spoke. The other kids in the creche, she treated as siblings would, with a perfect mixture of love and rivalry. Melana was a fierce little girl, maybe too fierce; when she wanted to fight someone, she would. She didn’t punch someone for no reason, but her little child mind sometimes skewed the definition of “good reason”. Even as a young brat, she wanted what she wanted and she took it when she wanted it. This often created problems, especially when the creche workers were trying to teach them to share. Melana didn’t want to share; if other kids wanted what she wanted, then too sharding bad.
When she was around four Turns, she happened upon a terrible sight; a pretty little blonde girl being harassed by some sod-brained boys. The girl was crying, and something in that kicked Melana to do something. She sprang into action, first telling the boys to bugger off and leave the girl alone. They didn’t take her seriously and taunted her; after all, she was nothing but a girl, why should they listen? Melana didn’t take that for an answer; she immediately drew back a balled-up fist and slung it into the first boy’s face. That got the message across; one of the other boys tried to fight her, but her small frame allowed her to slip under him and push him down. They ran off after that, and Melana helped the sniffling girl up. She introduced herself as Deidre, and Melana promised to look out after her from then on. And she did; Deidre earned a spot in her little heart, even as she became more hardened as time went on.
So life went on, with Melana and Deidre doing everything together. Deidre didn’t know who her parents were either, and it was a critical bonding point for the two. When they were ten Turns, fate dumped a familiar boy at their figurative doorstep. After a bit of friendly conversation between him and Deidre, it was revealed that he was one of the boys that bullied her when they were younger; in fact, he was the first boy that got punched in the face. Before Melana could charge up her swing, the boy backed away and refused to fight back; really, he was several dragonlengths nicer than what he’d been. He finally introduced himself as Taklon, and begrudgingly Melana accepted his existence without wanting to mess up his pretty face; but that was only because Deidre was willing to forgive him. Over the next little while, he wrestled his way from pissed tolerance to friendly acceptance to friendship, with Deidre’s help. The three of them became a tightly-knit trio that did everything together, from eating to playing to even sleeping. They were comically found in the creche sleeping in a corner, the three of them piled onto each other. Taklon took a shine to Deidre especially, partially because she kept Melana from punching him again. Over the next three Turns it was like this, with Melana defending them at every twist and turn.
But one day, Taklon vanished. Melana and Deidre looked for him everywhere, and for the next sevenday the blonde girl was riddled with hurt from his disappearance. Even Melana felt a little betrayed. She consoled her friend, who was upset easily and cried. She swore that she’d punch him if he showed up again. And showed up again he did; after that sevenday, Taklon appeared again at the creche. Melana didn’t punch him, per say, but she did tear into him with her words. How could you! Do you realize how much you hurt Deidre? You overgrown wherry sod, shame on you! Those words, along with meaner ones, were spoken. Taklon endured the verbal abuse until Melana had chewed him out enough, before giving them the news; he’d been Searched for the upcoming clutch. He quivered with excitement, and with this revelation came a complete change in mood. Few boys got the chance to Stand to become a dragonrider, and soon the girls matched his excitement. They both promised to be there when he Stood, and Melana even clapped him on the back and said she believed he’d Impress that first clutch. With a goofy grin and ecstatic eyes, Taklon returned the promise. He’d Impress bronze or brown, and rise to great heights! Wingsecond, Wingleader, shards, even Weyrleader! They were children’s dreams, but Melana and Deidre backed him up.
Every day, the girls would stand outside the Candidate’s barracks and wait for their friend to reappear. Each and every day Taklon complied, then at their insistence would spill out everything he’d learned; he had a spectacular memory, and recited each thing almost exact. He told them about how to cut meat for a young hatchling, hatching sands etiquette, bonding lessons and how to keep them oiled. That, among other things, captivated the girls and enticed them. Deidre didn’t exactly have interest in becoming a dragonrider, but she still was fascinated by the information. Meanwhile, Melana told herself to remember the information for later. She was interested, and the more she heard the more she desired a dragon herself, but alas, she was not Searched. Still, she sucked up Taklon’s gushing like a sponge, assuring herself that she would be there someday; it was only a matter of time.
The day of the Hatching. It was the Senior Queen Ferrith’s clutch. Deidre and Melana had hatched a plan to sneak out of their chores in order to watch, though Melana felt bad leaving her work behind as an aspiring creche worker. But the creche could wait. She and Deidre grabbed the two nearest seats they could find, and pushed through a few people to get them. Well, Melana did the main pushing, and Deidre followed eagerly. They watched as each egg hatched, one after the other; each dragon passing up Taklon as they searched for Theirs. At the beginning of the Hatching, it wasn’t much of a concern. However, as the number of eggs kept decreasing, the girls and Taklon grew more and more worried. But...but they promised each other he’d Impress! Melana didn’t want to be wrong! However, reality hit them when Taklon was left on the Sands, and his parents consoled him as they walked off. Taklon ran off to find his friends, and came to them with the most dejected expression on his face. First Deidre went in for a hug, then Melana. The two girls consoled him better than his parents could, and they managed to convince him that it was alright, that he’d find his dragon soon. But at the same time, Melana made a promise to herself too; she would find her own dragon, and ride off into glory.
But she wouldn’t be Searched. Why? She was overlooked each time, even as she watched Taklon fail to find his bonded each successive clutch. They were both failing at different things, both things relating to dragons. It frustrated Melana to no end. When they were fourteen, Deidre and Taklon began to be more shy around each other, something that piqued Melana’s interest. Then they became much more affectionate, and Melana found she didn’t like that. At all. See, Deidre was her world, the apple of her eye. She was her very first friend, and she even defended her from Taklon when he was still a major wherry. So why wasn’t Melana happy for them? It was hard for her to sort out her feelings, and it didn’t even occur to her that she might actually like her childhood friend, in a romantic sense. She buried herself in her work the best she could, all the while waiting for the day a Searchdragon would pick her out from a crowd. Unfortunately, there wasn’t much work for her to bury herself in, besides making sure crechebrats behaved. Deidre was on her way in her Harper apprenticeship, and Melana enjoyed the image of her friend dressed in Harper blue. It looked good on her, she said.
Two Turns dragged on, despair growing in the trio. Melana wouldn’t give up trying to be Searched, but Taklon was beginning to lose hope. When they were sixteen Turns, Taklon told them that this was the last clutch he’d stand for. Deidre tried to convince him otherwise, but he was firm with his decision. He went through Candidacy with less effort than before, believing that this was it for him. But fate would decide to be nice this time. Melana and Deidre filed into their seats, lacking the childish enthusiasm that they had before. The first eggs hatched, and Taklon looked at them with glum boredom. He watched as a hefty brown hatched, quite the fine specimen of his color. He made his way down the lineup of boys, looking through their minds one by one. Taklon expected to be passed over, like every other sharding time...but then he found himself knocked off his feet. The brown flattened him, though not literally, and his eyes whirled rainbow. T’lon managed to wriggle himself free, then waved to his friends. He’d done it! He’d Impressed the color of his dreams! While Deidre cheered in a more ladylike manner, Melana had stood up on her seat and hollered for the entirety of Pern to hear. She was happy for her friend, truly happy.
But also...not. See, as the next Turn went on, Melana’s jealousy bubbled and seethed, as Deidre went to see T’lon and Dionymuth as much as she could. She wanted to be happy, and she was; but the happiness clashed with her jealousy, and it just succeeded in making her more confused. She loved Deidre, oh how she loved her; she was beginning to realize her attachment might be more than just friendship. For the first time, she couldn’t do anything to get what she wanted, and it hurt. T’lon’s ambitions grew, and he held no qualms in sharing his dreams of being a Wingleader. Melana knew she wanted power, and knew what she wanted to Impress; gold. She wouldn’t settle for anything less. She would watch her gold lay fine, large clutches, and she’d watch strong offspring find Theirs. She would rise to take a Senior Gold’s place and become Weyrwoman, so she could have the power to bring them to live with her; but she’d still have bested them all. She wanted to be better. T’lon could be a Wingleader, Deidre the best Harper of the Weyr. But she’d be better. As T’lon trained with Dionymuth, she looked for any Searchdragon who would Search her, but they didn’t. Her job at the creche became boring, even if she liked the kids. Sandri told her to give up, that it was no use chasing that kind of dream. But Melana wouldn’t give up; there was no way that she would. Only aging out would stop her.
Melana had just turned seventeen, and Deidre had gone off to find her T’lon; the sex ban was lifted, so a rumble around in the sheets wouldn’t send Dionymuth between. Agitated by the thought, the redhead had been cooling off in the Weyrbowl when a blue exited between in the sky. He landed on the ground, and he wasn’t recognized as one of High Reaches’s blues. Another angry Searchdragon tried to chase the pair away with insults, but they introduced themselves as Searchers from Mavros. Mavros? Why was Mavros Searching at High Reaches, of all places? But maybe, this was her chance, the risk she needed to take. If her fate didn’t lie in High Reaches, perhaps it lay in the Weyrhold? She stood in front of the blue, and he spoke to her. He told her exactly what she wanted to hear, and she knew the blue wouldn’t lie. She was fit to Impress, to be a great rider. She’d told the bluerider she’d be back to get her things; she needed to tie some loose ends. Melana ran to her quarters, quite literally grabbing Deidre and T’lon to drag them with. Dionymuth snorted indignantly, but allowed her to bring her friends. As she grabbed a bag and began to shove her clothes in (which Deidre folded neatly) she explained what was going on. She was going to Mavros to Stand! She got a giddy grin from T’lon, who told her he hoped to see her soon. After returning the remark, Deidre flung her arms around Melana and kissed her on the cheek; the girl still remembered the electric spark it sent riveting across her. Be safe, Melly! was what she told her, with all the love in the world. She knew it wasn’t love love, but it was the great bond they shared. With those loose ends tied, she ran out to the Searchdragon and hauled herself up. And with that, the blue blinked between, and Melana endured eight seconds of sheer cold before reemerging into her new life.
And now it was time to see who she could get under her thumb. At last, the information she learned from T’lon came in handy, as she beared listening to the Candidatemaster drone on and on. She stayed quiet, of course, and stood by as others felt the need to show off in order to feel good about themselves. All the while, she couldn’t do much plotting; it wasn’t like there was much of rank among the Candidates. When they got to see the eggs on the Sands, Melana couldn’t help but be in wonder at the dual golds. So there were two chances for her to Impress a queen? It was quite curious, maybe lucky, but so far she was glad she took the risk of saying yes to Search. She suffered through the idiocy and the old bluerider’s speaking; after all, all she looked forward to was the Hatching. Still, she performed well; she was going to be the best out of all these blokes, no matter what.
And then, the day of Zalmaranth’s Hatching came. Melana had grabbed her Candidate’s robes, putting them on quickly before catching a ride to the Sands. When her feet touched the ground once more, she rushed to find the nearest spot to the queen eggs; surely, other girls would want to grab that spot. Surprisingly, it was open, and she stationed herself next to a boy. She learned the boy’s name; Belizor. He was strong, tanned…handsome. Oh no, she was developing a new crush! At some point, she managed to cling to his arm, and they had entered a conversation while they waited. But then, a movement! The bigger egg jerked to one side, starling the brown hatchling near it. The smaller egg cracked open first, then the larger one, and Melana saw her dream gold right in front of her; large, impressive, with rippling muscles and large wings. She wasn’t beautiful like the other girl, but she was magnificent. As the brown Impressed to Belizor beside her, she wanted to will one of the golds towards her; even the smaller one would still be a gold, and gold was good. She couldn’t be left for green! She just couldn’t! But, fate smiled on her, and the larger gold knocked aside another girl to stand in front of her. Melana was captivated by the rainbow eyes, the absolutely beautiful shape of the gold. Her gold. My sister is welcome to all of these weak females, but you are mine, Melana. I am your Sularenth. The words were like Deidre’s music to her ears. She was sure to write about this.
Immediately, Melana dove into focusing on the care of her new dragon, though she did spare time to write Deidre and T’lon a letter. She detailed what had happened during the Hatching, that she’d possibly found a new friend, and that she’d Impressed gold. She gushed about her Sularenth, and promised that soon they could come to Mavros. She sent the letter, and waited for a response while she followed along in lessons. Sularenth was close to her ‘twin’ Danovelith, and so Melana learned the name of her bonded; Srunae. The Holdbred girl didn’t seem like much at first; quiet, modest, pretty. But then, something sparked in the girl; she wanted to beat Srunae. She couldn’t pinpoint the source of this new desire, but she wanted to graduate at the top of the class. She wanted to graduate above Srunae. And she would; oh she would. She would be the best queen Mavros would ever see. She worked hard in lessons, relishing moments like gliding over the lake on Sula’s back and knocking a wooden sword out of the tailfork G’drin’s hand. All the while, she aimed to beat the other goldweyrling in everything she did. Only time would tell if it worked. Fortnights passed, and there was no response from Deidre or T’lon. In month sixteen of Weyrlinghood, Melana sent another letter, wondering if perhaps her letter had gotten lost.
Part 2: Rewritten Impression
Melana clung to Belizor’s arm still, wondering if the man simply didn’t mind. She had to admit, she was quite enjoying this conversation they were having. But she enjoyed his pretty face more. Her eyes trailed the brown that recently hatched, as he teetered towards the gold eggs. ”Gotta admit, he’s a good-looking brown. Built like a blue, though.” She commented, watching his movements; but only because he was near the golds. One of those gold eggs held her future, her pride and joy. At least, she hoped they did. Doubt began to flower in her, but she tried her best to crush it; they weren’t even hatched yet! She couldn’t be ridiculous, and she couldn’t let an ounce of uncertainty show. Dragons were searching her mind, and if her dream gold saw it? Well, she’d likely turn a blind eye. Melana’s foot began to tap lightly on the sand, and finally she let go of Belizor’s arm. Okay, she needed to relax. Breathe. She wasn’t normally so nervous, was she? Was it just her being on the Sands for the first time?
Aha! Melana spotted movement out of the corner of her eye, and turned her head to the larger queen egg. The egg was leaning to the opposite side that it was before. Could it be...first, chips began to fly off of the smaller egg, the little dragonet inside delicately breaking the shell that held it prisoner. And sure enough, a gold slid out; quite the pretty one, too. The larger egg shook violently, but didn’t crack; that was alright. Melana grinned; this was it. This was her first chance. How many girls had two chances to Impress gold and gain all that power? Even if she wouldn’t be the Senior right away, if she Impressed then someday she would. She was sure of it. The little gold crooned at her sister egg, which was still rocking. Finally, after a grand display of dramatic bravado, the big egg burst into pieces to reveal a bright and shiny hide. The bigger girl’s tail lashed threateningly, her personality being made known from that very spot. She was a tough girl who needed an even tougher woman to wrangle her.
Melana was that woman, she was sure.
Suddenly, time seemed to speed up. The unfortunate brown was her first victim to scare, as she screeched violently at him. He scampered away from her...and towards her? No, he wasn’t headed towards her; he was headed slightly to the side. He bounded up to Belizor, his eyes whirling with rainbow. ”Congrats!” she called to B’zor, as the new brownweyrling was led off the sands by his bonded. It was easier to be nicer to people when she liked them, so at least the comment sounded somewhat genuine. The bigger gold looked rather pissed off, but her sister crooned at her to...calm her down? She seemed to be angry at the brown, who was now off the sands, so now she seemed a little cooled down. Melana kept her icy stare on the golds, trying to open herself up as much as possible. Though, frankly she wasn’t sure if that would help at all. You couldn’t con a dragon, she heard. A dragon searched your mind, surely no amount of mental blocking would help. Not like she knew how. The bigger gold followed her little sister around the girls, which was quite comical. Melana half expected the bossy gold to parade her little sister around; but then again, maybe she was being smart and taking her time.
The two golds were headed to a girl near her, and Melana suddenly felt her heart race. This was it. One of those golds would Impress, the other would move on and search. One of them would search her. While the smaller gold’s eyes whirled the signature colors of Impression, the larger one shoved the Impresee away from her. That might be a little rude, but the queen finding Hers was much more important. With that said and done, the young queen walked to search more ladies, walking by Melana...and then she stopped. Without hesitation, she stood in front of Melana and her eyes whirled, but this time the girl felt something. My sister is welcome to all of these weak females, but you are mine, Melana. I am your Sularenth. The voice rang in her head, clear as day. She smiled, the biggest smile she ever could possibly fit on her face. ”You’re...you’re here. You’re real. You-you’re a gold!” She exclaimed. She’d gotten exactly what she wanted, she bested T’lon. A whole new world of possibilities was open to her, and finally her dreams could be made a reality. The satisfaction of getting what she wanted amplified the wondrous euphoria of Impression. It was like walking in a dream.
Yes, I’m real, yes I’m a gold, and yes, I’m hungry. Sularenth growled, pushing her hunger onto her bonded to hurry her along. Of course Melana was willing to comply. With star-struck eyes, she led her little queen off the sands. She couldn’t wait to tell them, to graduate and then be able to fly on golden wings to High Reaches. I’m coming for you, Deidre. You’ll love me even more now.
Part 3: Weyrlinghood
Month 1: Sula’s First Swim
Had it already been a month? It sounded cliche, but for Melana the days seemed to melt into one another. She’d had a rather fitful sleep, mostly because of her excitement at finally sending the letter. She found a firelizard to send the letter, and hopefully it reached Deidre soon enough. In the letter, she gushed about Sularenth and added some bits about B’zor. Of course, she didn’t mention that the sight of his face made her feel squishy and disgusting inside. Honestly, Melanamine. Why do you focus on a stupid brownrider? You’re stronger than that. Sularenth hissed, as the two of them walked to their first lesson.
’I am, which is exactly why I’m not acting on it.’ She wanted to, even though Deidre clung to the back of her mind. Oh, the girl held her heart for sure. But somehow, B’zor also wriggled his way in. She new his little brown had no chance of catching Sula, which for a second she wished wasn’t true.
Seriously? Get that hideous thought out of your head this instant. Why can’t you like the bronzers? Maybe talk to Nadornith’s?
The two of them arrived at the lake, lining up between B’zor and G’drin. The latter looked at Melana and gave her a cheeky grin. Scowling, Melana returned her focus to Sula. ’D’nel looks like a skeezebag. He could make a good ally, but I swear if I wake up next to him…’ He reminded her of a tunnelsnake, especially in his face. He wasn’t even cute. But, it was better to not make enemies with him. Perhaps he could be useful in the future. Melana’s attention was grabbed by the Weyrlingmaster barking orders about the dragons swimming. Shards and shells, she hated K’ton. The fact that he was a bronzerider was even worse. His bronze could catch Sula, and she didn’t want him to have that ego-boost. Relief washed over her when he was done yapping, and she nodded at Sula. ’You heard him, Sula. Show them who’s the best swimmer.’
Hmph. This is futile. We could be fixing so many aspects of the Weyr right now. But if I have to… With a mental scowl, Sularenth stepped into the water. She ventured further with encouragement from Melana, which she insisted she didn’t need. She looked so regal, with her head held high. She paddled towards Danovelith and avoided the browns of their class. Melana looked towards B’zor, as his eyes followed his brown. ”So, uh, Litniroth’s swimming pretty well.” She said, trying not to stammer. Seriously, what was it about this bloke that attracted her?
B’zor smiled slightly back at her. “Thanks. Sularenth’s swimming well too.” The compliment made her feel gushy, and she hated it. She couldn’t let herself be distracted by B’zor’s prettiness. He had no use for her, and yet… Sularenth paddled in the lake, slewing out useless orders while she stayed close to her golden sister. Litniroth, piss off. Thundosomth, you’re not impressive, get away from me. Sleeduth, quit looking at Danovelith or I swear to shells, you’re dead.
’Sula, please. You don’t need to give anyone orders. You need to smoothtalk people into supporting you.’ Melana chided, earning a snort.
Why? I am a queen. Everyone must listen to me. Okay, she had a point. As a gold, she commanded natural respect from dragons.
’Maybe dragons, but their human counterparts are a different story. I’ll teach you some tricks later. You’re tired, admit it.’
No! A pause. Maybe. I’m coming back in. Keeping an eye on her gold twin, Sularenth swam back to shore. She stood up and shook herself off. And next time, don’t put yourself between two brownriders.
Month 8: A Real-Life Game of Dragonrider
The air felt still, the sky clear blue and cloudless. It was a perfect day for a casual fly, but for some, the day was anything but casual. The Spring Storms weyrlings had had their first flights two months before, and every day after that, but this was different. Melana remembered the games of dragonrider she would play with her creche peers, and later Deidre and T’lon. It was hard to believe that today, that would happen. She would be playing real-life dragonrider. She was one of the lucky few, even luckier that she got to play with a queen. Sularenth bristled beside her, the massive gold brimming with muscle. She was ready. They were ready, ready to show everyone that she was the best of them all. Better than Srunae, especially. Melana fastened their flight straps, dressed in full gear. She gave the gold’s flank a hearty pat. ’Those feel tight enough?’
Yes. She said curtly, her tail threateningly waving back and forth. They listened to K’ton drone on, and most of what he was saying was common sense. Yawn, I’m bored. Can we fly already? She wanted to say it directly to Sorth, but refrained at Melana’s order. Hmph. He has too much to say. Are other weyrlings really this stupid?
’Yes.’ Soon, K’ton was done rasping about safety and protocol and wherryshit. They were called up individually for short flights over the lake, and immediately Sularenth stepped forward. We are going. After receiving affirmation from Sorth, Melana quickly darted onto Sula’s back. Her body pulsed with electrifying excitement at the thought of flight with her bonded. Despite growing up at a Weyr, she never set herself on a dragon’s back. ’Ready?’ Sula huffed, but Melana could feel she was. They got the all-clear to go. The gold flapped her wings like she did every day, and lifted off the ground. Soon enough, the surface of Ildath Lake was under her great gold belly, and the goldweyrling whooped. They were flying. She was finally flying! Sula bugled; even the grumpy gold would smile if she could. Adrenaline ran through her blood, and it felt terrible when they were called to land again. She wanted to fly to the moons themselves! It was irrational, but finally passing this milestone gave her a high of sorts. The pair turned around and touched down on the sand, and Melana took off her goggles. Wow, what a ride! But this wasn’t even the halfway point. It would be a while before they could truly fly free.
Month 16: G’drin Deserves It
Two months. Two sharding months, and Melana would be a full Junior Weyrwoman. She was so close, and now more than ever she had to ensure she graduated at the top of the class. She worked extra hard and studied harder. There was no way she would fail her final exams and be held back, she’d put too much effort in to fail. Right now, she had to channel her energy into self-defense and sparring. Melana currently held a wooden practice stick in her hand, as she waited to hear who her partner was. Last time she’d had B’zor, it nearly turned out as a disaster, and she sincerely hoped she had a less distracting opponent. Then immediately regretted that wish, as her name was yelled out in conjunction with G’drin’s. The cheeky brownrider would never hold much power, she could tell that was true. As such, there was no use trying to use him. The two of them walked up to each other, the man immediately grinning at her. “Hey, baby. Sorry, I don’t wanna hurt ya pretty face.”
”Good thing I’m not fragile.” Melana snapped back, as she raised her stick. G’drin raised his in turn. His stance was faulty, this should be easy.
“Ooo, you got bite! I mean, I knew ya had some spice, but not this much!” He cackled, as she met his thrust with a parry. B’zor snuck her a sympathetic look.
”You talk too much. The goldweyrling glared at him with her icy eyes, thrusting herself. G’drin barely parried it. That wasn’t enough to beat down his ego, though.
“There’s more where it comes from, baby.”
”That’s the problem.”
“Are ya sure? You can’t deny this pretty face, can ya? You’re definitely pretty. Your dragon isn’t, but you definitely are.” Was he just trying to get easy sex? Too bad she wasn’t an easy lay. And how dare he call Sula ugly! She attacked with aggressiveness this time, and the brownweyrling blocked once again. “Ooo, now this is picking up! Y’know, maybe after this, if you have some free time, you can see how massive I am. Not many girls get it, you’d be-”
Melana slid her stick underneath his and spun it, knocking his weapon right out of his hand. She held the end of the stick to his chest. ”I win.” She smoothly retorted, gaining sweet satisfaction from seeing the smile wiped off his face. ”I like my men with class, thank you very much.” Not bothering to pay attention to him any longer, she awaited the next round of partner calls. And hopefully, she got a more competent opponent this time.
Month 8 Gold Lesson: Arbitrations Begin!
The memory of her first flight with Sula lingered in the back of her mind as Melana made her way to another one of her special lessons. She had her hair tied back today, and she was feeling pretty good. It felt great to know she was one of the few Pernese who would ever have these kinds of lessons, and the thought of being special was nice. She arrived in the cavern where most of these lessons took place, and took her seat. The instructor introduced the kind of lesson; from now until month thirteen, she and Srunae would have arbitration lessons. Alright, that was simple enough. Pretend she was confronted to break up some sort of squabble between weyrfolk. The instructor gave her the scenario; she pretended to be someone who was accused of stealing her friend’s prized possession, a sheet of expensive gossamer.
”Well, the solution is relatively simple.” Melana began, her hands cupped together on her lap. ”Look through their belongings; any amount of sparkly material is sure to be noticable. If they protest, it’s likely that they’re guilty, of possessing the gossamer or of something worse. If they stole just the gossamer, their punishment shouldn’t be too severe. For a first-time offense, they will give up the fabric and be warned. Obviously, if they try something again, it’ll get worse until they’re kicked out of the Weyr.” She sat back and waited to be given feedback. The instructor gave her criticism. Her eye twitched, but she internalized it well. She had to learn how to be a good Weyrwoman, or else mutiny would occur and she might be overthrown. ”Alright, I understand.” She said curtly, then reached out to Sularenth while she waited for Srunae to give her response. She would tune back in for the feedback. The queen wanted her to come back, but she couldn’t. She had to sit and wait.
Month 13: Flamethrowing, Except Without the Flame.
Weyrlinghood slogged on, and it was still five months before she would graduate. Besides the promises of hidework for most of her life as a goldrider, she couldn’t wait. Melana dressed for the weather, and had her sleeves rolled up. Today, she would learn how to use a flamethrower in combating Thread, though the expectation was that Thread wouldn’t make it far through the Wings. As she briskly walked, Melana’s mind wandered to Deidre. She began expecting a reply, and tried to hold her patience. When it came to Deidre, the girl did strange things to her. Love was horribly inconvenient, but it also got her through each day of Weyrlinghood. Was she alright? She hoped T’lon was treating her right. No doubt they were well on the way to being weyrmated, a thought that embittered her. It wasn’t fair. Why couldn’t Deidre love her and not him? Did she miss her? Melana certainly did. They would be reunited soon enough, once she could visit them and convince them to come to Mavros.
Alright, handling flamethrowers wasn’t going to be helped by a bad mood, so Melana did her best to clear her head. She arrived to the training grounds, where one of the goldriders was waiting. Once she and Srunae were there, they were given the lecture on the machine’s basic use and care. Okay, pull a trigger, hold it a certain way. Don’t let anything spill out of the cartridges while reloading. Make sure the flamethrower is kept clean and report anything that looks or feels wrong. Really, most of this was common sense, much like K’ton’s droning. Still, the older woman was dragonlengths easier to listen to than that rotting old sod they entrusted with the lives of weyrlings. So, it was much easier for Melana to be invested in the lesson. The parts of the flamethrower were demonstrated and displayed, and it was when it came time to practice that Melana would be very disappointed. She wouldn’t get to actually USE the flamethrower until later in the month. Oh well. She could wait. The day was spent learning how to properly hold it, and for the most part Melana did well. The goldrider would correct her stance at times, but the lesson passed by with little trouble. Tomorrow, they were to expect more time spent on the mechanics of the machine itself, and how wind could dictate how the flamethrower was used. With that settled, she and Srunae were released to rejoin the rest of their class. Melana looked forward to seeing her gold again, and to the next meal. Boy, was she hungry!