good as gold [open]

[tovaana]

Weyrling Cirene :: Blue Imperath

I will disown you. ‘You can’t do that.’ Watch me. ‘You’re being silly, it’s just a ride. And arriving on a bronze is…' Is…what? She could feel the blue’s eyes narrow and she could only sigh, pushing him out of her mind. There were female brownriders, which… might have been more powerful, but female blueriders were more accepted in Pern than female brownriders were. Not that it really made a difference to Cirene what color the dragon was, it was all about making appearances. For example, their wherry-brained Weyrwoman who had stepped down had a gold dragon, and where had that landed her? The system of colors was messed up, clearly.

Her mind trailed to when she had seen a dragon flying around Mavros oiled with sparkles. Imperath had found it immensely amusing. Cirene had too – but for other reasons. Her blue found it less amusing when she suggested they paint him gold, like Codrath had been oiled with sparkles. If having a gold dragon was the only way of being a leader, she thought it’d be quite the statement to oil her dragon with gold. Perhaps she’d see if there was anything at the gather…

Under the pale purple silk dress that hugged her hips were her riding breeches. She was holding her skirts in one hand as she walked, thinking it would be a lot less complicated if she could just ride her blue to the gather. Then they wouldn’t be having the disagreement of her riding a bronze to the gather. The bronzer was easy on the eyes too, though. It was hard to tell how old he was under all that hair. His demeanor and skin seemed young. Younger than her perhaps, and she did enjoy being older and more experienced than others, even if his dragon was older.

After the cold ride between, she accepted help down from the monstrous dragon, and quickly found somewhere to discreetly take her riding gear off and packed into a beautiful tan leather side bag. She loved the feeling of the silk brushing against her legs – it split on both sides around the knee to make walking manageable.

‘There, see – it was a harmless ride.’ Cirene found her dragon’s reluctant mind, but he did not respond to her – or even show that he had heard her. She sighed and rolled her eyes a little. She’d find a way to appease her blue beast, or he’d forget… at some point.

Cirene knew if she wanted to appear mousy, like most men preferred, then she shouldn’t walk so proudly. It took too much work to be something she wasn’t, and she didn’t feel in the mood to flirt, not unless she needed to, to get the best price on something. So she walked with a confident stride in her heels, careful to stay away from any muddy areas that might ruin her dress or shoes.

She slowed her walk at the smell of strong herbs. This was the second stall she’d passed that sold scented dragon oils, but the first one had had a woman selling. Here, a younger man closer to her age was consulting with a woman that looked old enough to be his mother. The woman disappeared with an empty jar in her hands, probably to refill something. She relaxed her shoulders and changed directions toward the stall. She started to look at the various things on display, pretending not to notice the gawking man – or was he just a boy? She wondered if it was her dress or knots that had impressed him. After a minute she was starting to get annoyed that the man hadn’t approached her yet, as she wanted to keep the allusion that he was in charge. Instead, she continued to patiently look through the different herbs and oils, wondering idly if there were any that shimmered like a gold dragon.

[Taxx]

Zyrath had, in all kinds of surprising, been somewhat accommodating. Her snappish remarks hadn’t lost one bit of their bite, and she hadn’t given Isali an ounce of help in mounting, but neither had she rebuffed the attempts to mount as she was prone to. She wanted to go, and while she would have been more than happy to go alone if she could, she was smart enough to know she needed her rider to guide her.

For her part, Isali knew better than to push too hard. She grouched in the privacy of her own mind- not hard, considering how much Zyrath kept to herself- and once settled she just sat there, letting the green spring skyward and only supplying the point of entry over Jask Hold for Zyrath’s use. It was clear, a solid point to fix in both minds, and then Isali gripped tight and gave the needed command to go between.

They blinked into view over the Gather, bright stalls and vibrant clothing marking the growing crowd; Zyrath’s gaze was on the dragons mingling together or with their riders, and without a second more of hovering she tucked her wings to dive. This time, when she landed, she went to her belly and twisted her head around, her jaws clapping together right next to Isali’s knee. Get off. Now.

“You sharding impatient tailfork, I don’t even know why I put up with you,” Isali muttered as she slid off the other way. “I guess I’ll see you later, then.”

Take them off, came the growled demand, as expected.

Say please, Isali retorted; her whole body shivered at the bolt of fury that spilled over from the green, and she twitched to the right as a paw slapped the ground to her left: a clear warning.

Take them off now.

So demanding, Isali returned, glancing over her shoulder into the bare-fanged snarl of the green with a thrill at her daring. Zyrath couldn’t hurt her, and maybe she was put too much faith in that, especially at times like this, but really, she was just giving back what she was handed. The green was far from a bubbly bundle of sunshine, and Isali was not going to let herself be bullied by her dragon. Say please and I will.

And yet she should have expected the way it turned out. Rather than bend just enough to ask nicely, Zyrath played her usual deciding move- she turned her head back and nipped one of the straps that looped just in front of her shoulders into her jaws, biting down on it with the full intention to chew it in two. Isali jolted forward, hands reaching out as she snapped, “Stop that, Zyrath, shard you!”

Take. Them. Off. The green paused with the strap still held between her jaws, eyes spinning between blood-red and bright blue: distaste for the straps and her rider’s attempt to force her to do something she didn’t want to do, and pleasure at knowing she had the upper hand.

There wasn’t much Isali could do but obey. She needed those straps, and she knew Zyrath wouldn’t hesitate to destroy them. She’d ruined several pairs already, even though they hadn’t been flying all that long; Isali had found it necessary to keep them locked away to keep any more from meeting the same end. Muttering obscenities, the young woman began to loosen the leather loops, and as soon as the last one fell away the green was airborne and away to meet the other dragons.

After a quick check to ensure the one hadn’t taken too much damage- she’d have to keep an eye on it for signs of wear because Faranth forbid K’ton ever catch her flying with mangled straps- Isali tucked them away in an allotted corner before finally turning to enjoy the reason she’d come in the first place.

There was a strong smell of herbs from somewhere close by, and Isali found it after a minute of searching; she paused next to the not-quite-familiar form of Cirene and glanced at her. “You buying something for your blue?” she asked, picking up one jar and taking a careful sniff. “Might get something for Zyrath. She’d love it.”

Do not, was the expected hiss in her mind.

Say please, she replied, and grinned vindictively at the harsh growl that came in return.

[tovaana]

Weyrling Cirene :: Blue Imperath

She felt like she’d been making headway – that is, until another woman entered oblivious to Cirene’s attempts. It was more annoying than anything, but she could simply change tactics. Two women could get a better deal than one. She looked over and vaguely recognized the green rider, whose green was older than her blue, but that was all she could remember. However that did not mean the rider was older or had any more experience than her. Still, she knew this rider had ridden her green here, while she had not been able to ride Imperath yet, and that was more than she could say.

She bit back a tart remark about actually buying something for herself- which she realized could have been true. It wasn’t hard to recognize the sarcasm in her voice and then the smile that backed up the tone.

It’s Zyrath’s. ‘Oh, are we talking again?’ Predictably she was met with silence and she held herself from rolling her eyes. Instead she tried to remember quickly what she could about the classes ahead of her. Imperath liked greens, so he was more open to sharing about the green dragons and their riders. Zyrath stood out only because Imperath liked her...spunk and the way she stood up for herself. Yet, there seemed something sinister in the pairing. It wasn’t her trouble though, so she didn’t care much, but it did make for good information.

“I am. Only the best for Imperath.” She said airily.

Cirene glanced back at the vendor with a shy gaze, but went back to looking threw the scents before she picked up a jar she knew she had wanted from the moment she had stepped in.

“When you’re done picking your poison, I think we should check out together. Perhaps we could get a better price.” She said in a nonchalant and hushed tone, still looking at the jars as if she may want something else.