Monaco Bay Weyr - Main Clearing
The main clearing of Monaco Bay Weyr is immense, a sprawling space carved out from the verdant jungle that is constantly threatening to encroach from the north and east. There are a few pathways paved with dark stone; otherwise, the ground is full of dust — or worse, mud, during the rainy season — due to the constant churn from dragons taking off and landing. The trees tend to be enormous affairs, sweeping the skies far above the heads of any dragons, with trunks bigger than a dragonlength around. Shaded by the surrounding foliage is the single feature that makes this area suitable for habitation: a series of large bubble caverns provide permanence and shelter for the inhabitants of this tropical Weyr.


Weyrlings of all sorts have been bagging firestone all day and the golden queens are duly outfitted with flamethrower canisters. Fi's doing one last look over Monaco's participating riders while overhead, weyrlings armed with bags of paint-soaked cloth strips wait to be allowed to drop the facsimile of deadly rain down on the wings. Each Weyr's been assigned a muster area and a level for their wing to fly, though the judges may pass formation changes to the groups at any time during the exercise.

Marzoth's straps have been checked and double checked. The bronze has been given firestone to chew, and all appears to be ready. S'dny stands next to the bronze in his flight leathers along with the other riders from Monaco that will be participating in the event this evening. Marzoth wears his dark goggles and as is often the case his eyes are glowing a dull shade of red. The bronze has a look of focus on his face. This sort of thing is what he lives for, « I will burn thread from the sky. We will be triumphant. » says the bronze as the lights flicker and flit through the dark forest. Syd's look is more along the lines of tension. He knows full well how the bronze relates to the world and how seriously he takes even insignificant things. "Yes. We will. But remember this is /for fun/. Fun Marzoth. You remember we talked about fun." Marzoth appears to really not notice at first what his lifemate is saying but makes it clear that he did hear when he says, « It is fun to burn and kill. » Syd just shakes his head. There really is no talking to the big lug sometimes.

Kiena runs through her mental checklist again as she examines Ujinath's straps, triple checking the buckles and making sure all is just so. She's wearing Xanadu's colours today and has even spent considerable time braiding her unruly hair tightly and neatly and twisting it into a bun so that it all will fit (mostly) under her helmet. "Remember how to do this?" Kiena murmurs as she eyes the firestone set for Ujinath and is rewarded by a scoff-like snort from the cerulean blue, causing his rider to chuckle dryly. "Don't have to bite my head off… Go on then. Start preparing." Though don't mind her as she hovers. It's nerves, honest! She'll scan the other Xanadian riders in attendance as well, offering a few grins and thumbs up before moving on to take in the competition. Hmm.

There is a rider from Half Moon, and well plenty others whom all look like search and rescue riders from the look of it. Sundari and her blue Irkevalath seem to be taking point on this game though. The blue bugles out his ready while Sunny is sitting in the straps waiting for the go it seems. A bag of firestone rests strapped near her. « Fun!! we all get to burn the little stings and watch them sizzle and go dead!» This offered to the other dragons, Sunny just giggles a bit as she hears her dragon. Woth firestone in hand Irk goes about snatching it and chews away while swatswating on his haunches.

D'nyl of Half Moon Bay Weyr is barely out of weyrlinghood himself, but Czaiath refused to fail to meet the challenge of 'thread'. Boy will the bronze be disappointed when he realizes it's not real there. But for now, his rider is grouped with the Half Moon contingent going over his straps one last time while Czaiath masticates his firestone with careful attention. "We ready for this, Sunny? It won' be too much of a strain fer ya, right?"

One of Fort's riders is having a considerably difficult time controlling his bronze but that's nothing new. Mr'az has always had to wield a strong 'hand' with Zhirazoth and it could be the bronzerider is regretting agreeing to participate in this event. The brazen, bold and perfectionist bronze is in his element right now but he's also brash and impatient to prove himself. "Just… settle down, will you? I can't check the straps if you keep moving. Slow down too or you'll bite your tongue…" Mr'az can be heard muttering, while Zhirazoth half-listens, wings rustling and tail twitching in anticipation. « There's a new challenge to face and we must be the best at it! » Always.

C'rus is with the Fort riders along with the blue Jaicoureth. All has been prepared with the dragon and the blue is certainly more than ready to get in some fancy flying today. After all this is a party where you can fly with your friends! Who really cares if he hasn't done this in turns? And honestly who cares that this wasn't the main focus of his training? The answer to both questions is that C'rus cares. Very much. "Jaicoureth…please be cautious as we do this. You know I don't like to fly fancy." The dragon is fully aware of what fancy flying is and his riders difficult stomach. He bobs his head amiably and looks over to the bronze, « Sure. We will have fun. » the blue replies doing his best to not get too excited so as to mentally shout. The brightly colored fabric and glittering gems roll and gleam.

Kera and Moncerath are somewhere among the Xanadian mustering point, the rider all decked out in most of her nicest flight gear as is her green dragonmate. Currently she's crouched by a few sacks of stone, reorganizing and selecting some chunks over others. Kera offers them to to Moncerath to start chewing and digesting while her gaze drifts around the other pairs. Grinning as the excitement building among the festivities, her attention goes back to task. "Slowly Mon, don't bite your tongue." Her caution gets a soft wuffle from the green, who starts working on the next chunk. Kera rubs the dragon's neck while her jaws grind and tumble the fire producing stones.

Prep, at least, goes without incident and soon the wings are asky. Fort has the top level with a standard V-formation while Half Moon is the next level down flying in a reverse V at 90 degrees to them. Then comes Xanadu flying stripes and beneath them at the lowest level (for now) Monaco flying in chevrons. The criss-crossing pattern should be able to catch most of the 'thread', at least. And once the wings have gone through one cycle to fall into their formations, the weyrling wing throws forth the first volleys of pink, blue, red, yellow, and green 'Thread'!

On the lowest level, Fi has some time to wait before the threads will find their way down. She and Tzavayth both keep a weather-eye on the wings above as they wait for their moment to come.

Kiena will do her best not to pace and once Ujinath tells her he's ready, the bluerider will move on to the next step in preparation. Another check of straps and supplies, then her own gear and she begins to fasten up her riding jacket. "Good luck!" she calls to the other participating riders from other WEyrs, while to her fellow Xanadians she'll grind broadly and raise her fist up. "Let's do this!" For Xanadu! Mounting up, she'll buckle in and then don her gloves and helmet, last being her goggles. Set, set and go! Ujinath finds his place, rumbling low in his chest before he spreads his wings and leaps aloft to join his wingmates in the stripes formation. Now to wait and prepare, readied to start flaming the moment some of those 'Threads' come into their field and range.

If Marzoth had his say he'd want to be where the fighting was hardest and most likely to produce the kind of results that he is looking for, but will yield to the will of his queen and fly with her at the lowest level. He off to the queen's right and behind her. All of his protective insticts kicking in. Protect the queen, protect the weyr, protect the riders…and of course…look good while doing it. Marzoth keeps his awareness of where he is in space and a mental picture of where everyone is, and more importantly where 'Thread' is. His rider is also keeping his eyes peeled above where the weyrlings are begining their work. He is less focused on winning than Marzoth, and more focused on any potential screwups the weyrlings could bring into the mix. Marzoth breaths deeply, occasionally letting a little tongue of fire escape from his mouth as he waits. « Burn. Burn. Burn. » he says almost like a mantra.

Zhirazoth was ready long ago for this and he will rumble and growl in growing impatience when his rider continues to dawdle. « This challenge will be DONE by the time we even lift off the ground. Move faster, Mr'az! We both know all is well. Jaicoureth, my brother! You are right, this will be FUN! » The bronze's mind is filled with laughter, as well as the feeling of pressure like a gathering storm rushing over the ocean towards the shore. No challenge is too much for HIM! Mr'az will just sigh, resigned to his fate as he gears up and mounts up, barely buckled in and prepared before Zhirazoth is leaping ahead to join the Fortian riders up on the top level. It's a wonder the bronzerider won't have a massive headache by the end of this, whether or not they're successful as keeping Zhirazoth to HIS formation will be the difficult part.

"We get to be on top of things…isn't that lovely." C'rus says to himself and his lifemate. The blue focuses on lifting himself as gently as he can off the ground and getting himself into position in the air at the topmost level. Shooting fake thread out of the sky may be something that is new, but flying in formation is not. He falls in with his compatriots and mentally hums a little tune as he readies himself. C'rus is holding on tight. This event is unlikely to be fun for the rider of the blue. Jaicoureth certainly has enthusiasm, but that appears to be outmatched by the bronze, « Fun is good. » he calls to the bronze. He even allows himself a moment to feel a swell of pride grow in his chest. He gets to represent Fort and show what his weyr can do. He even gets to do his best to keep as much thread away from the levels below. What could be better?

Kera moves to readjust straps, cinching them a bit once Moncerth has finished chewing and resumes stretching her muscles and wings to keep them limber. The call to get ready is passed along and Kera spots Kiena just before she mounts up, the woman's shouted encouragement causes shouted echo from the Xanadu clad riders. Even some of the dragons bellowing their eagerness. "And no flaming into the wind!" She's reminding her dragonmate, but it doesn't hurt that her voice raised so other riders might hear. Pulling helmet over her head, then tugging down the goggles, Kera checks the straps one more time before climbing up and joining the rest of the Xanadian flyers. One by one the dragons leap and wing their way skywards.

D'nyl urges Czaiath into their place, but, really, the bronze needs no encouragement, a burst of flame flicking forth even before the descending threads reach their level, so excited is he for the chase!

With the constant additions from the tossers, it's not long before every level is engaged in aerial combat. Tzavayth peels to the side so that Fi can catch a patch with her flamethrower, catching it in the middle and, sadly, letting the leading bit get to the ground below.

As the thread makes it through the upper levels to the level closest to the ground Marzoth is able to unleash his flame. For those that have witnessed his mindvoice when he releases the beast that resides within that dark forest it shows itself as a creature of smoke and flame. Though in this case it is the real Marzoth that gets to be a living flame. His flame is long and burns hotly as he burns away the threads with a good level of precision. There might be a few here and there that he is unable to effectively remove before they hit the ground, but most are burned away to ash. Despite his excitement to be burning thread he maintains a good distance away from the queen so that he doesn't end up burning her. That would be rude. Syd is keeping a watchful eye as Marzoth wheels from side to side. Alternating which wing he brings in closer to his body before righting himself and pulling the other in. For a bronze he is agile, certainly not as agile as the blues and greens present but he'd give the bronzes a run for their marks.

Ujinath will be in his element for once and when some 'Thread' falls their way, he will let forth with his flame and reduce it to char, his mind rippling with satisfaction though short lived. More comes, filtering down from the levels above and soon the blue will be putting his more agile form to good use. It's not all about attack but defensive (and evasive) maneuvers. Tricker not to collide with your wingmates while doing it! Kiena is hard pressed to keep up but she grits her teeth and keeps her mind focused, working with Ujinath to keep them on track and out of "harms" way.

So much Thread and so little time to get it all. Jaicoureth is hampered by several difficulties. The first being that he knows his rider has a weak stomach and that if he really lets loose and does what he knows he can do he will likely be faced with a sick to his stomach C'rus…which is no fun for him, or for the people below. He is also hampered by the fact that precision in flaming is not something he has really trained for. He misses occasionally or doesn't fully burn a thread and lets it reach the lower levels. Though after several minutes of holding himself back he becomes more comfortable and begins to show off some of the flying that he knows he is capable of. He ducks and weaves through the thread falling, burning as he goes. There are even a few moments where he corkscrews through the sky spinning as he pulls his wings close to his body. This brings a cry from his rider, "Jai…cou…reth! We…talked…about…this!." C'rus shouts as that familiar queasy feeling rises inside of him, « My bad. » he says as he rights himself and continues his work.

Zhirazoth goes to work, flaming and weaving, diving and turning and enjoying every moment of it. Finally something to test his skills and those of his rider's! Mr'az is as focused as his bronze though his goal is just to survive this ordeal. While those 'Threads' are harmless, the bronzerider knows how reckless his dragon can be. Bad enough he's had to call Zhirazoth back to task when some of those 'threads' are missed and the bronze feels it's HIS duty to chase them ALL and nearly end up barreling into a lower formation to do it. « We can't fail! » Zhirazoth will protest, while Mr'az tries again to explain that it's a fun comeption… Will there be booze after this?

Of course, it's the brash bronze from Half Moon that wheels around to catch a 'thread' on its way past and ends up with a long streak of pink down his right thigh for his inattentiveness. Thankfully, it's only his pride injured as he bellows in surprise and flicks between, reappearing a few lengths further on just in time to catch a yellow strand that threatens him.

Kera urges Moncerath slightly out of formation once they level out, and lets the green send out a couple of test flames. The green's fire-bellows are primed and she sideslips back into place. Kera scans about, and soon the Xanadians begin sweeping across their strip of sky. Missed globs of thread start descending to their wing, and Moncerath bugles a challenge while surging forward and throwing a spear of flame to sizzle pink droplets into pickish ash. For every spit of thread that gets through the defenses, Moncerath flames a dozen into oblivian. Throughout the fight, several dragons bugle of cry out in dismay, perhaps having gotten a paint surprise on their snouts or otherwheres. Kera notes that her own dragonmate has a couple of splatters along her flank and tail.

The Half Moon group have been doing well, the 'thread' has been getting scorced, burnt, sizzled you name it, the thready bits are getting it handed to them. Sundari offers up more firestone to Irkevalath, the blue takes it and is bugling out his excitment while continuing flying through his area. Others are diving this way and that to catch some missed thread, though there is a good amount that does indeed go falling through the cracks. Not to mention the paint marks that some are picking up. Including Irk who got attacked by some across his flanks.

Tzavayth hisses suddenly, rearing back and nearly bucking her rider off if it weren't for their straps, watching a multi-colored tangle flash by irritatingly out of reach before she turns and dives so that Fi can loose more artificial fire onto the 'dangerous' cloth before the glod flits between to rejoin her position in the formation.

Marzoth is managing to stay mostly paint free. There might be a touch of paint here and there on his claws and on his neck, but he is doing well. He continues to blaze forward doing his best to exterminate the bits of thread that are making it down from above. « My queen. We are doing well. » he projects to the gold. His focus is entirely on the Monaco contingent and largely ignores the others. Mostly because he is working, and secondly because they are not part of his wing. One by one the weyrlings seem to be running out of thread to throw. Which is probably for the best, lest the dark bronze get too into the 'fight'. Out of the corner of his eye he watches Tzavayth dive and then return. He can be proud that she is his queen. Nothing impresses Marzoth as much as strength.

Ujinath sports a few streaks and smudges of paint though the blue pays little attention. He's working hard, focused now on searing as many of those faux-Threads and keeping more from falling bellow. He keeps contact to with his wingmates, warning them even though he wishes to go to their aid but Kiena holds him back. Last thing she needs is Ujinath colliding with another! The longer they fly, the more determined the blue becomes as he and Kiena are joined on the same goal to see this event through.

Jaicoureth continues to whip his head here and there sending streaks of flame across the sky. As the fall begins to come to an end he stays within his V formation turning his attention to what is transpiring below. He watches his flying buddy Moncerath do her work and sends a gust of mental warmth her way, doing his best not to distract her. There will be time to burn off the residual energy after the competition when his rider is safely once more back on the ground and he is really to take to the skies once more. C'rus has taken on a shade of green. He's doing his best to hold the food in hos stomach in. He will love nothing better than to return to the ground where he things don't go all wibbly at a moments notice.

Irkevalath takes a good clump to the face and is now sporting a bright color from eyeridge to cheek. He angrly bellows out while sweeping to the side and sends another blast of flame to snag a few more falling threads. The game is fun, even though Irk is now 'pouting' as it where. Thankfull the paint will wash off or this would be an interesting tale. Sundari gives her dragon a good pat, all is well! From the looks of things the event wont be to much longer, which is actually ok with Sunny as she is feeling a bit on the sick side from all the quick movements from her dear dragon.

Zhirazoth roars something akin to a rallying cry or a battle cry when the fall continues. Keep going! His encouragement starts first with the Fortian dragons but the storms of his mind will spread to the others too if they're not too focused on their charring and flying. « We are almost at the end! » he crows and yet there's a streak of disappointment in his voice. So far he's managed to avoid being smeared with too much paint but Mr'az's attention falters and the bronze makes use of his rider's momentary lack of control to perform a tricky maneuver… and ends up with a good clip to his wing. Snarling in frustration and wounded pride, Zhirazoth winks Between and reappears again before soaring back into formation, seething. « THAT will not happen again! Where IS that clump? » He must exact revenge but too late… someone else gets it and the bronze is left to suffer further disappointment.

Kera waves a fist, signaling off another rider veering too close to Moncerath's wing space. The brown is however intent on flamming a thick globby strand and follows it through, causing Moncerath to suddenly dive. «Watch it! » the green scolds her careless wingmate as large wings flare out and grabbing air. When the pair level and begin upward momentum, several jets sear out of the green's muzzle. Jaicoureth's sentiments are returned before she checks her wingstroke to catch a sneaky thread droplet before it can splash onto the next team below.

And slowly, the paint-filled fall ends and the riders are instructed to return to their muster areas while the judges confer, comparing their notes on the performance of individuals as well as wings. It takes a while for all the scores to be tallied, then the judges move, carefully obscuring their actions while the flags are placed in order…

1st place: Monaco Bay Weyr
2nd place: Fort Weyr
3rd place: Xanadu Weyr

Overall Individual Winner: S'dny and Marzoth

Irkevalath slowly lands with the others from Half Moon, the blue and red paint still across his face like some war paint. Sundari gives the blues neck a hug while the jurdges do there thing. Whoops and whistles are heard when the winners are named, though some are left grumbly that Half Moon didnt even place. While some move off to have fun, others head homewards and Sunny sticks around a bit to get over the queasy feeling that she lingers. She'll even tug D'nyl off to see the sights around Monaco while Irk keeps Czaith company.

Marzoth decends from the sky victorious as he had planned too. He swells with pride when he realizes that Monaco has taken the top spot. It's particularly important for him to win since the poor bronze hasn't felt much like a winner of late and because he got to show off in front of a large crowd and most importantly the weyrlings. Once on the ground Syd hops off Marzoth's back, "You did very well Marzoth. You should be very proud of yourself." The dark bronze's mind swims with excitment, « That is how you fly. » he directs toward the weyrling dragons who are also coming in for landings, « We will continue to work on your flight skills tomorrow. You are all dismissed. Your behavior today was acceptable. » Which is high praise from Marzoth who is feeling particularly generous right now. He then turns his attention to the others that competed and also compliments them, « You all flew well. » Marzoth can be gracious when he needs.

Kiena won't be disappointed in the end when they finally land and wait on the scores to be tallied. Ujinath's normally cerulean hide sports a few streaks of colours now and while they wait on the scoring, Kiena will lean in the straps to take note of where the blue was struck. "Huh. Always thought we favoured left but apparently it's right. Going to have to work on that," she mutters and once she spots Kera and Moncerath, she'll lift her gloved hand and give the thumbs up! No matter what, that was FUN and when Xanadu ends up third, Kiena cheers all the same. Third is still pretty darn good! Even Ujinath seems pleased and smug with that. No harm in third, right? Right. "Time to relax I think," Kiena muses and she'll strip off her gloves, helmet and goggles and most of her riding gear before dismounting and slipping the straps off Ujinath so that they can be tended to and dry and the blue can go and bathe. As for Kiena, she'll go and congratulate the other winners and mingle too.

Jaicoureth was just in this to fly well and have fun, so he is surprised by the fact that they took second place. Not too shabby considering he hasn't really done this in well…as long as he can remember. He takes gentle circles in the sky and goes lower and lower until landing softly. C'rus hops off as quickly as he can get himself unfastened and bends over with his hands on his knees taking a deep breath. The green around the gills look fades when he is on the ground, but doesn't leave his face completely, "We aren't going to do that again." he says softly to Jaicoureth. Jaicoureth is already moving off toward Moncerath and Kera and the Xanadu wing, [[span style="color:blue"]]« Moncerath. We really flew. »[[/blue]] he says with a smile in his voice.

Second!? Again! Zhirazoth's disappointment is obvious and a complete opposite to the delight his rider shows. Mr'az has never had issues with competitions and to secure a second place win for Fort is perfect for him. Directing the bronze to land, the bronzrider will dismount and immediately go among his wingmates to congratulate and try not to grimace too much for Zhirazoth's obvious sulking. He won't hear the end of this until the bronze forgets! Mr'az will even congratulate C'rus and try not to shed too much light on how green the bluerider looks. "Good work!" he praises before moving on.

Kera and Moncerath descend when the last of the driplets are sent and the games are called. While judges roam around doing their thing, Kera does her own little circuit around her dragonmate. A few small blotches mar the green's hide, but it's the line of paint stretching about two feet across Moncerath's right wing that has her head shaking "It could be worse, at least it will wash off." The green warbles agreeably but soon is back to her excitable mood, ready for a bath and scrubbing as the fortian blue approaches. « Certainly! It's what dragon do! » Kera nods to Kiena when she spots her fellow Xanadian. As the winner announcement trickles through the crowd, she gives an affectionate pat to her dragon's shoulder "We still outflew that careless brown."