Let Me At 'Em [Flight]

[Windra]

Serapheth's rising must have left something like a pheromone in the air. Other females were showing their glow, coming into estrus one after the other. This would not be the first day when a shimmering mass of wings would take to the skies after bloodying their maws, nor would it be the final one. Greens and garnets screeched their challenges, males of all sorts became their chasers.

Sh'ggy was aware of Scrappith's whirling inattentiveness and sudden irritation. He initially brushed it off as rumbling irritation from the wher encounter that was still something that sat heavily on the edge of his consciousness - and the lack of resolution that had been presented. But as the days progressed, the garnet's fighting anger became increasingly unbearable. They were butting heads more and more often and Sh'ggy was having to shut off his mind from the garnet entirely for hours on end unless something urgent came up.

He was enjoying his favorite past-time with Scoob in the dining hall - ransacking provisions and forming massive meals, of course. In the discourse of digestion, his brown fire-lizard's head perked to the side and Sh'ggy dared a peak into his dragon's mind.

The firestorm that awaited him scorched him from the brainstem up. "Like, zoinks!"

Scrappith didn't alarm Sh'ggy of the events, and he didn't need to. Not like it was any of his business anyhow. The garnet was suddenly in the killing fields, mauling beast after beast with reckless vigor and draining their blood as a starved vampire - not needing to be told because at least Scrappith paid attention to the weyrling lessons, unlike somebody else he knew!

Eyes wheeling crimson, the male-identifying garnet lapped a green tongue against his jowels and burst into the air, screaming for the fireheights in a flurry of anger and need. C'mon you lazy louts! I am rising! Do you mean to tell me not a single one of you has the nerve to follow?!

[FirebrandPhlox]

Burranth raised his head at the call the garnet sent out to the weyr. It wasn't a gold rising, but a garnet could still provide a good amount of fun for him. His ego was still slightly bruised that he had not won Serapheth's flight, so this could provide another chance for him to prove himself.

"Go for it, buddy," M'lcolm called from his bed. He would never deny his bonded the chance to chase, nor would he say no to a bit of flight lust. M'lcolm still had plenty of ladies around Fort he had yet to charm, and today was as good a day as any to try his luck too.

Burranth nodded, and pumped his powerful wings to ascend to the skies. He didn't bother with blooding for this flight, flying directly after Scrappith.

Don't you worry, I will always rise to the occasion. Burranth called after the garnet. My nerves are more than steely enough to meet your challenge!

[EW-NA]

Garth the Slimy Bronze Barnacle

--

Garth's normally unpleasant face curled in a somehow uglier fashion as he watched the evening skies. A snarly, bitter, pointy triangle - watching as Scrappith wrecked havoc on a collection of herdbeasts over the bowl. The unnecessary violence did lighten his mood a bit, though the Bronze thought it rich for the Garnet to make such a display. To any that were familiar with Garth, they'd probably pass his mood off as his 'usual' disposition.

His rider was a bit more aware; knowing his dragon was fumed beyond measure that his rare chance to chase a Gold Queen ended in disappointment. (Orhm'in would have kissed Serapheth for that blessing, were he able.) Garth's limited memory conveniently blotted that fact out, despite the foul frustration remaining.

“I bet that Garnet would be pleased for a Bronze to chase,” Orhm'in casually tried to slide in. Perhaps push Garth for a distraction. Let his burn off some of that pent up.... Garthness. “You should have a go.”

And why would I do that? Garth hissed in utter annoyance. Not even recalling why he was so annoyed, but knowing he was annoyed. Waste of my time and undeserving---

But, despite his staunch talk, Garth found himself getting wound in knots from watching the dragons starting to gather. Overcome by a feeling of not wanting to be defeated by merely laying around. Like a worthless pile, like his rider. Rushing to stand, Garth darted up without much else to say, to Orhm'in atleast.

Out of the way, the bitter Bronze snarled out to anyone too close in his air space. He drew in closer to the heart of the chase. Make your choice, already! Don't drag it out like a Green!!

[Fel]

Barlow of Bronze-Garnet Magasuth

Don't you dare. That's a garnet. It can have eggs. Faranth knows that you are the absolute last male dragon on Pern that we need procreating, let alone... that monstrosity of a female dragon. Barlow didn't feel the need to point out that Magasuth was a monster for reasons beyond the color of his hide either. She knew that he knew. And he knew that she knew that she couldn't stop him.

Who, me? Magasuth asked in his customary, almost sing-song sort of voice. Why, I would never countenance doing anything without your express consent, my dear rider. What exactly do you take me for? But it is such a lovely day for a flight, and I think it will be nice to stretch my wings. I hope you will not be inconvenienced!

Don't. Even. Consider it.

Whoops, can't hear you! You know what? I think this is going to be fun!

Without giving another thought to his rider's protests--not that he had ever really cared about them in the first place--Magasuth took to the sky. He was a dark bronze, his wings and sides streaked with red lightning. He looked far more ominous than he acted... usually. When the mask slipped though, when he allowed it to slip, well. He wondered whether it would be more fun to play the fool this evening, or let it slip. Draconic memory being what it was, he was certain that was a surprise he got to enjoy over and over. Such a delight, truly.

Lazy louts? he asked, his tone all sweet innocence. Why beautiful Scrappith, you practically wound me with such accusations, me and every other lovely chaser here! After we all do so much to fight Thread, putting our and our riders' lives on the line every time! Well, it's of no matter. I'm sure the fun we have today will be worth it!

He spared a moment's consideration for Garth, then dismissed him. Not worth his time. However, something else Scappith had said nagged at him. He wanted to let it go, pretend to be the happy-go-lucky sort today, but he simply could not let it stand.

And nerve? Why, I'm certain that no dragon who flies Thread can be called a coward. His tone maintained its guilelessness, but it shifted in an instant to something flatly cold on his next words. Though if you like, I can give you something to be afraid of.

[Arcane]

Daphne had long known this day would come- when Ogatath looked towards the skies and yearned to chase. It should have been a special day, where she was besides her own true love. But Ogatath was a brown. Proper ladies rode dragons who rose- not chased.

Still- she wasn't so selfish as to wish to condemn Ogatath to a life of solitude.

He deserved to fall in love.

And while it wasn't what she had imagined- maybe she could fall for a greenrider or a garnetrider, someone who wasn't quite a gentlemen, for someone who was no longer quite a lady.

Go. Follow your heart, Daphne urged, as Ogatath gazed hungrily after the garnet with as little use for manners as he had. It was a good match- a garnet with fire, to match his own.

Scrappith had fought bravely against the spotties. And his rider was about Daphne's age, male and not the most terrible to look at, although his clothing could use some work.

If Ogatath fell in love with Scrappith, there could be worse riders for Daphne to be entangled with.

It's not like that, Ogatath scoffed, knowing full well Daphne had sat through plenty of lectures on how dragon flights worked.

He'd explain again later- before she tried sending him to Scrappith's weyr with flowers.

Right now, the garnet was flying farther away with every passing second, chased by a trio of bronzes unworthy of him.

With a roar, Ogatath launched himself into the sky.

He didn't have a shiny hide. But he had strength and courage and nerve to spare- and an incurable romantic for a rider.

He pushed his wings, keeping one eye on Magasuth. Daphne's memories told him the chimera had turned to violence in a flight before. Ogatath would protect the others, if it happened.

It's been a while since I've had a good brawl, He growled at the chimera in warning, Hurt him and I'll bite back. Scrappith's got claws too. You're outnumbered- and outmatched.

His eyes whirled equally red at Garth, who didn't even seem to want to be here, If you can't keep up, you don't deserve him. No one's forcing you to chase. Garnets fly longer than greens anyway, dimglow. Everyone knows that.

Ogatath wasn't usually a dick. But some dragons deserved a metaphorical punch to the mouth. All of whom seemed to have converged on this one particular garnet flight.

Determined not to let it ruin the mood, he let himself watch Scrappith, fierce and passionate and plenty enough to handle all this nonsense. He told him, I think I can handle whatever you feel like throwing at me. I'm no coward or softie.

[Windra]

Two bronzes and a chimera rose in response, as well as a brown. The former and the latter were both respectfully soft-spoken and daring and that was something admirable, Scrappith thought. Even in his heat, even through the blood pounding in his ears - compassion was noted, jotted down for future note, tucked away into the reserves of his mind. Each beat of his large wings strung him high and higher into the sky -

And then Garth, that repulsive thing, hurled an insult his way. And Magasuth. How dare they! Unbridled rage thrown into restraint during the encounter with Ieyak's ilk brought the garnet frothing at the mouth. The wheeling of lustful crimsons and sunset oranges became a blazing inferno of hot, hot red. Far below in the dining hall, Sh'ggy held his head and wallowed in agony at the horrid rage that encompassed Scrappith's entire soul.

Give me something to be afraid of, will you?! barked the garnet. Scrappith was doing a full loop to come full-circle, facing the brazen chimera with full snarl and gleaming claws. He did not stop his soaring. Come, then! I'm happy to bleed a sniveling, shameful wretch -

"DON'T YOU DARE!" Sh'ggy screamed, launching from his place at the dining hall. Scoob was thrown into a frenzy at the state of his friend's mind, ripped with panic and running circles on the floor. "Screw that guy, but don't you kill anybody, man! Send him off!"

Scrappith could see very little through his haze of red. Despite the differences between he and his rider, Sh'ggy still garnered respect from the dragon and remained cool-headed when Scrappith did not - just like Scrappith modeled bravery as a shield for Sh'ggy's cowardice. Instead of raking, clawing, destroying, Scrappith angled sharply up and away. He rode parallel to his chasers and well beyond Magasuth's grasp.

You are dismissed, Magasuth. How desperately Scrappith wanted to rip and tear. How hard he wanted to slap that asshole in the face with his tail hard enough to blind him. Between Sh'ggy practically begging and Ogatath being the voice of reason ... The rest of you, fly! I will yield only to the most worthy who can keep up!

Sh'ggy sank into his chair. The crisis was hopefully averted, so long as the chimera listened. But he was quivering. "Scoob, ya mind?" he whispered feebly.

Good ol' Scoob swooped in with a fifth of brandy. Sh'ggy was going to need to steel his nerves tonight.

[Arcane]

Just as Ogatath had thought- Scrappith knew how to defend himself and wasn't afraid to bear his metaphorical claws. He rumbled in approval, charmed anew by his ferocity and confidence that ended the fight (hopefully) without having to shed a drop of ichor.

Now that was everything a garnet ought to be.

He pushed his wings even harder, ready to show Scrappith he was a warrior too.

But every so often, he glanced back at Magasuth, ready to punch back if the chimera tried to resist Scrappith's dictate. A garnet's word was law in his own fight and Ogatath'd help enforce it if called on.

Who says you have to yield? Ogatath asked, You take me. I take you. That seems fairer to me. A flight's for two dragons, ain't it?

Daphne liked the idea of conquest and pursuit, but Ogatath didn't want to be a conqueror. He only wanted to win if Scrappith wanted him as much as he wanted Scrappith.

[Fel]

Magasuth only snorted derisively at the various threats that reached him. Did they truly think he was afraid? Did they truly believe that he, of all dragons, could possibly be cowed? Even were it true that at the very least Scrappith was less unworthy than a female dragon... he was still only a garnet. There was no shine to his hide. His will was meaningless.

He did not leave the skies. But he dropped back enough to make it clear that he had no intention of trying to catch the miserable wretch. He wanted to stop, he wanted to tear into the hides of these worthless creatures—especially Scrappith. Such a coward, willing to fight and then changing his mind. How could fighting something that would cower so even be satisfying? All bark and no bite. Boring.

The pathetic mewling of lesser beings is of little consequence to me, he called from a safe distance.

[EW-NA]

Garth 2 - How Garth Got His Groove Back
--

Much like Magasuth had done, Garth payed the chimera very little mind in return. Whether two colors or not, he was just competition. But really, there was no competition in this lot, Garth haughtily assured himself. He would have continued his 'casual' coasting, atleast until a particularly puny Brown showed up. Ogatath. It didn't matter that the Brown was almost identical in size to Garth, he was smaller by design- because he was Brown. And the Bronze barnaclebeast wasn't going to let him come in so bold and mighty to fling his thoughts about.

It's not a matter of my keeping up, Ogatath! Garth hissed the other dragon's name, like having bitten into a rotted herdbeast left too long in the sun. The Bronze swayed his barge-like frame closer, almost tauntingly, as he rode the breeze back and forth. It's just a matter of -some dragons- not having the decency to just choose the clear winner when he arrives. Not every dragon is equal you know, but some dimglows like to keep ignorant of that, don't they~

Garth's pointy snout wrinkled in delight, before banking enough to put wide distance between him and Ogatath. He wasn't interested in wasting more time with a dragon that resembled the what came from the backend of their food supply. Garth was after some chasing sport, and he was glad of it. Otherwise he would have missed the display of Scrappith suddenly turning and making to lunge at Magasuth. Oh, did that tickle Garth's fancy. So much so, the Bronze chortled in laughter, his dragonic lips pulling back to display his teeth, as if the horrible sound came from his throat instead of his mind. Pumping his wings, he moved to continue after Scrappith.

Alas ~ Yet again deprived of a violent spectacular. The Bronze-Garnet, or whatever he was, seemingly banished by word alone. Utter disappointment!

Should have flung him to the rocks, Scrappith, Garth couldn't help but commentate again. Would have been nice for a dragon to actually act on their swagger for once, compared to just falling back to 'flowery words'.

Garth didn't get the chance to add any more, as his rider had finally had enough. For once, Orhm'in actually reared into his mind in full blown frustration. 'Stop antagonizing every other dragon in the sky, Garth! If I have to keep you from every flight now, I will!'

While the warning seemed threatening enough, Garth paid his rider little concern. The mush. As if you could stop me. You'd miss out on your delightful little naps, wouldn't you, the Bronze taunted mentally. Dragons chase in flights, that's a duty-- so leave me to it and go to your own now!

Orhm'in was silent for long enough, that Garth assumed himself victorious. He wasn't.

'Garth, if you keep like this, I'll transfer us to the Ground Crew.' He wasn't sure if his rider even could, but the threat in his tone was there all the same, and believable.

You wouldn't dare---!

'Then stop acting like a worm.'

[FirebrandPhlox]

Burranth eased back on his speed as Scrappith wheeled on the chimera, displaying his every intent to fight the scoundrel out of the sky if needed. Burranth was not foolish enough to get into fights over a garnet. Winning the flight would do nothing to bolster his or his rider's standing. He watched as Magasuth backed off, calculating his next move.

He assured himself he was calculating he next move at least. He was truly now much more invested in the drama unfolding between Garth and all the other dragons. He was a catty thing, wasn't he? This was turning out to be much more interesting of a flight than the one pursuing Serapheth had been. He seemed to be incapable of keeping his thoughts to himself, which delighted Burranth in his endless desire for gossip.

Lots of talk and not much action! Burranth called to Gath as he propelled himself forward, making a move to get closer to Scrappith. He pumped his wings powerfully, ascending above the other chasers in the pack to get a better view. Scrappith wanted him to fly? He would fly. I can do this all day, Scrappith. Take your time to choose wisely!

[Windra]

Down below, Sh'ggy dared a peak into his bonded's mind and was met with ... well, it wasn't whips and chains and that sort of thing. He reeled backwards and Scoob used the opportunity to tip the bottle of brandy into his mouth. Hard alcohol would clear the brain. Or at least blot out those mental images of Scrappith's desires - tearing a chimera limb from limb, ripping off that arrogant head and feeding it to the fire-lizards. Scrappith was known to want to beat the ass of those rowdy, but even for him this was objectively terrifying. It wasn't his first time dealing with the rutting garnet and his foul mood that accompanied it. And it cemented Sh'ggy's realization - Scrappith was horrifying when ready to rise.

Scrappith's low growl rolled out from Magasuth's words. Lesser beings? Because I am a garnet? Whirling eyes could not be distracted from his objective now, with tiring wings and aching muscles. We live in the same Weyr, urchin. I'll happily bash your tiny brain into the ground when it isn't my flight that will be soiled.

Bet.

The moments trickled on into minutes. Their flight rounded quickly around the fireheights in spectacular loops and weaves. Garth was ... no, although Scrappith that a healthy crash along some jagged boulders might be beneficial to all of them although adverse to the chimera's health - not that he cared. Burranth was wise enough to mostly keep from the argument, but also ... not flashy. Not proud. Not wise and willing to interject.

Ogatath, Scrappith announced loudly. His brilliant reds burrowed into the dragon's direction. Fly with me.