'The World of Pern(tm)' and 'The Dragonriders of Pern(r)' are copyright to Anne McCaffrey (c) l967, 2000. This is a recorded online session, by permission of the author but generated on PernWorld MUSH for the benefit of people unable to attend.

~~*~~ Fort Weyr - Weyrling Barracks ~~*~~

The rounded ceiling of this set of barracks is high enough to accomodate growing dragons. Lining the walls lengthwise are sets of stone couches and cots for their riders. At one end of the room are cabinets holding supplies for bathing and oiling young dragons, as well as the weyrling manuals. Against the opposite wall is a table with scraps of leather and leather-working tools. Tacked up on the wall is a diagram of riding straps.

After the hatching hubbub, quiet (or relatively so) has *finally* fallen in the weyrling barracks. Or at least, that first flurry of activity has died down to allow the weyrlings to get to settling. Crosenturath has finally collapsed into a heap, having sniffed his way to where their new residence will be. So in the shallow depression that serves as a couch, the blue's strange little body has curled itself around Harmony. And now, in the throws of a dream, little feet twitch and high-pitched little wheezes escape from between those protruding baby dragon teeth that stick out. Bulging eyes are mostly closed, but finally… /finally/, Harmony is able to /ease/ her way out from the clutches of her dragon. Tip-toe, tip-toe, let's hope nothing awakens him!

Kouzevelth is awake. She can't not be. Not everyone else has fallen asleep yet; she has to keep an eye out. For what, exactly, nobody's quite sure; certainly her rider isn't. Inri is sitting at the edge of the gold's couch, rebraiding her hair to be able to actually get some rest herself, and she seems much more tired than her new lifemate, who sits bolt upright like a statue, eyes slowly scanning the entirety of the barracks just to see what happens next.

What happens next is that Dremkoth runs smack-dab into Crosenturath's couch as he glides fluidly about the barracks. Oops? He's all grace but zero attention. D'ani is following him, hissing at him to, "Stoppit and get to bed already?" He's definitely not in control here, flashing Harmony a glance that is half-apologetic, half envious. "How did you get her to do that?" Frustrated parent anyone? D'ani might also ask Inri because statue trumps restlessly curious dragon any day. Or night.

The movement of others is caught which is enough to make Abigail lift her head slightly an look over to see what might be going on. For the moment her Niumdreoth is at least asleep. An she is right there next to him as he didn't want her far away it seemed. The brown wiggles and twitches in his sleep upon his couch, tail tip wiggling about and his hindpaws kick out a few times. Yay for dragon dreams!

Crosenturath startles awake after a startled yelp-snore. "Edani!" Harmony yelps, just barely out of her blue's clutches when Dremkoth careens into their couch. Out of ire, she's totally forgotten to use his new name. "Youno, youaiiieee!" Tiny little dragonet feet are quick to snatch his nut (Harmony) and drag her back to his warm embrace. "I /just/ got him to sleep." This comes from the clutches of her blue which she can *not* struggle out of. Cheep, chitter, happy-crooning comes from the long, thin snout of Crosenturath. His little visible dragon-teeth-fangs quivering. Bulging eyes widen even further and his thick tail thumps a syncopation. "What did you /feed/ yours?" she grumbles, trying to get comfortable. To Inri: "Hey, we didn't get eaten." Totally a feat. Oh and there's Abigail. Harmony might be craning her neck struggling in her dragon's embrace, to see the brown weyrling.

The chaos that is the Dremkoth-Crosenturath collision gets more out of Kouzevelth than just standing like a statue; the newly-hatched gold lets out a loud irritable creel. Stop doing that! Enough with the rough-housing, you're loud! Inri just gives her a look, and tries, "Shh." And then — "I fed her the same thing you fed him, though I'm guessing you didn't mean me, and — no, though I really /thought/ she was going to eat me." Who wouldn't, getting wrapped up in those wings? That was a death trap if Inri ever saw one! "This is definitely a lot better than being eaten. So far. I think." She's apprehensive about something, and isn't letting out exactly what, just yet. "As for how I got her to do that? I didn't. She got herself to do that. She insists on staying awake until everyone else is asleep, including me."

And D'ani answers to his old name, go figure. Lifetime habit, that. He's lacking words though, with a silent point to Dremkoth. His fault! Something about the way the pink-besotted young woman is grabbed and clung to strikes him as humorous and he sniggers. "Some… chopped… meat-things," he says with a vague handwave to the pre-butchered chunks they all had access to. "He's… adventuring and won't listen to me. Trust me, I've already tried sitting on him," he adds lest they suggest that. As to getting eaten, he tacks on, "Yet." And then smirks. Dremkoth sniffs at Crosenturath's feet curiously, which prompts D'ani to nudge the bronze and say quietly, "Hear that? You're keeping them all awake."

A slight snort escapes Niumdreoth, his head tilting, eyes half open and he stares over at Crosenturath, though he doesn't seem to interested in finding out what is going on, and curls up more. A faint warble escaping the sleepy brown, Abbey lets a hand rest against the dragonet's head, fingers softly rubbing. "What's this about people getting eaten?"

Oh but Crosenturath is not going to be going to sleep anytime soon. Not only because of being awakened by Dremkoth, but because he's now *reminded* that he's *awake* and *ready* for *fun*. And /his/ Harmony is in his grasp, ready to adore! Cheeks get pinker with whatever is being said, but the former-baker-girl very nearly gets free, when she's distracted by D'ani, again. "But — I just got Scrat," that nickname has /stuck/, "to sleeeeeep," she whines. When the bronze sniffs those tiny little blue-feet, Scrat-blue lets out an involuntary wiggle which spills Harmony out of his grasp. The girl (in her pink-bowed jammies) rolls head over heels down and out of her couch. There's probably some flashing of pale legs since she's in a /gown/. How utterly /embarrassing/. Bonk. "Ow." She glares. At /EVERYONE/. Luckily, Crosenturath is distracted by Niumdreoth. Oh hey there. His golden sister? Not as exciting except to get an answering CHIRP-CHIRP-CHIRP that sounds suspiciously like a devious giggle.

"Well, he was keeping /her/ awake, at least — I think now you're right about it being everyone, though," Inri says weakly, giving Kouzevelth a funny look. Her dragon isn't really /ignoring/ Inri — she's perfectly aware of her presence as much as she is aware of air in her lungs — but she's much more interested in the blue. He's making noises at her. She is going to make noises back. BUGLE. Right in Inri's ear, and the former barmaid winces and ducks a little bit.

Crosenturath's chirps and Kouzevelth's bugle are too much for Dremkoth to take in without adding his own joyous warble to the mix, especially when there's a pink-white-pink-white tumble of Harmony right under his nose. See? Cause-and-effect right there! he seems to say with a poke of his muzzle to D'ani's midriff. The ex-beastcrafter opens his mouth to say something but the tiny bronze is pattering off, leaving D'ani to shrug and follow. Keep him out of trouble? Not likely. Supervise certainly. Sleep? Doubtful.

Abigail is a bit more awake by the time Harmony is falling about, and showing off a bit of leg? The once guard just blinks and gives her head a slight shake. "Ye alright there Harmony?" This questioned with an amused tone, even while she is glared at. As for Niumdreoth the brown is staying put upon his couch until someone or one of his clutchmates tries to make him do something. The chirping makes the brown twitch, but the bugle from Kouzevelth is enough to get his attention. A soft croon escapes Nium, and he leans a bit closer to Abbey. "Nium. Yer gona push me off if ye keep that up." Just like any dragon he wants the couch to himself, but also wants his person there at the same time. Hearing Inri she glances over. "Mauled? Ye mean out on the sands?" She's a little slow on the uptake it seems, like the other's she is rather tired.

Oh, it's on. Crosenturath looks startled by Kouzevelth's resounding bugle, but unfazed. His got a singular object in sight: /his/ Harmony. Who is trying to recover from her tumble, tugging things the way they should be and giving Inri a wide-eyed look. To Abigail, "Eaten, yes, what she said. From killer dragonets." Awkwardly cute, Crosenturath has managed to get to all fours, hopping from his back legs to execute a forward pounce. "Yes — mauled," the former-baker-now-turned-weyrling gasps. "And I'm fine. Just — oh no. Scrat, no." But yes. So around and around she goes, Harmony's now doing a little comical run while Crosenturath chases. "This is not," she huffs, "what I had in /mind/." Tired herself, yes, but it's either run or get snatched, and she's not bright enough to know that being snatched is her final fate. To his other clutch siblings, most especially his bugling golden sister: chirp-chirp-heh-heh-chirp-heh-heh-squawk-chirp-cheep-heh-ah-heh-heh-heh-chirp!

Apparently, the pursuit of Harmony is the most interesting thing Kouzevelth has ever seen in her very short life; she lays down and puts her head on top of her paws, watching him go and providing a steady low thrum of sound as — maybe it's a chase theme? She's the soundtrack. "Yeah. I mean, a lot of people do. Get hurt. Somehow we didn't; I'm sure part of it had to do with hiding behind big people, but then one of 'em had to go make a bunch of other people Impress." Kazulen's never living that down.

The sudden chase seems to be enough to get Niumdreoth's attention, and he wakes up a bit more. His head follows round and round a few times before he seems to get dizzy, a faint warble escapes him before giving his head a great shake. Abigail smirks slightly while she slowly sits up, a hand lifting to rub at her eyes a few times and Nium's head is plunked down into her lap with a faint oof escaping the girl. "Yer head weighs a bunch." This murmured out softly while she listens to the pair. "I heard some about that being possible. But was told cause of the touching it didn't happen much anymore." At the hiding behind big people bit she smirks and peers over to Inri. "Well, yes that is one idea on how not to be mauled."

Pausing in the midst of her pursuit, Harmony leans against something to catch her breath. Little legs can only go so fast! "We were lucky," she qualifies, to Inri. "Our Plan worked." Yes, 'P'-lan. Crosenturath finally catches up with Harmony, though, and launches his ungainly form at the girl, wrapping her in his awkward limbs, fat tail and chunky rear-end quivering in delight. "EUPH," the blue weyrling squeals, which is echoed by the variety of clicks, whistles, chirps, cheeps and chatters by her very vocal dragonet. "I—" At least, the blue is amenable to ONCE AGAIN, getting to their couch. With his Harmony-nut, the blue finally starts to settle again. "Scrat — move — yes, fine." Pillowed on her palms, elbows resting on the stone floor of the couch, she mutters, "I'm not so sure about this."

"I don't think that's the best possible sleeping arrangement for you, there," Inri agrees with Harmony, hiding a slight smile. She looks completely worn out, too; there is, without a doubt, no hiding how tired she is. From unable to sleep in the candidate barracks to probably also being unable to sleep in the weyrling barracks, at this point. "I think I would really like a good sleeping arrangement for /me/, though, which means someone has to let me do it." Kouzevelth gives Inri a look that is very, very clearly doubtful. No she doesn't. That's stupid.

Abigail watches at Harmony is caught by her blue and she looks somewhat amused at the sight. "Ye want an few extra pillows there Harmony?" She questions with an amused tone. Niumdreoth is rather happy when his dear clutch mate finally settles down, which means the brown can go back to sleep of course. With his head still upon Abbey's lap he proceeds to do just that. "I get the feeling it's going to take a few days to use to the new sleeping arrangements." Though she never had a problem sleeping back in the candidate barracks.

"No, but I can't convince him to let me go." Harmony sighs and re-adjusts to at least a slightly better position. At least, Scrat is warm. "Oh, please, if you're passing them out," the blue weyrling says to Abigail, one slender arm prying itself free of the warm grasp of Crosenturath. "He doesn't quite understand that the stone is hard and cold." Mourn. "Yes. It's going to take a few days," this comment is in agreement to Abigail, but with a look for Inri. Thoughtful, almost. Almost, /almost/ like she's not thinking of herself. But dear Crosenturath? Only fuels the self-love, and soon enough her eyes are glassy with the internal monologue of how wonderful she is. "Pillow, pillow!"

Abigail chuckles softly, she doesn't mean to, and it's not at Harmony in the least. "I'll try to get ye a couple." She murmurs out softly as she slowly shifts and wiggles and after a few moments is able to get Niumdreoth to move his head enough so she can stand herself up. Nium takes the chance and stretches out on upon his back and not in a graceful looking stance at all. One leg is stretched out to the side, tail flicking across the ground, and a wing opened and flopped off the side of his couch, seems he is finally comfortable! Abbey is able to find a few pillows, two are set down near Harmony, and then one is offered to Inri. With pillows handed out Abbey takes over the cot next to her dear sleeping brown and tucks a pillow under her head. Sleep would be a grand thing, but she is left watching Nium snooze instead, smiling as she does.

Ah! Relief! Harmony takes the offered pillows as Crosenturath slips into a fitful, dream-ful slumber. Quick to crash after expending so much energy, the blue is back to the land of dreams. The cool drift of frozen, icy tundra leaking out from his dreams, his minds cape full of ice and life. Harmony, pillows her head on the booty Abigail has given her, and finally tucks her head down. A yawn escapes, but unlike Abigail, she does not watch her lifemate slumber. Instead, she drifts off to sleep with a smile on her lips, the overflowing of love from her Scrat sending her off into peaceful dreams. Oh how she /loves/ to be adored. Life is, after all, all about /her/.