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Tuesday, June 3rd, 2003
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2:39 pm - Tapped
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High Reaches Weyr: It is a summer midmorning. The sun rises and warms the land, dispensing any lingering chill with its golden warmth. Tiny puffs of clouds begin to dot the sky.
The time is 10:33.
It is midmorning of the fourth day of summer.
It is the thirty-sixth Turn of the Tenth Pass.
My inner weyr smells very nice. Unlike Rashkabibble's, which just smells...empty, although I do suppose it contains a bit of his 'cologne' if you will. No need to go into that. But anyway, back to my weyr. It smells lovely; mostly on account of all the dry herbs I've stuffed away in the cabinets. I like cooking in there, but Isabo's usually my only companion. Although she's grown quite a bit since I got her. She's now five turns, and likes to pad about her feline self around on my cot while I make food.
Rarely ever are my firelizards in there, anymore. Denocte's usually skulking around my shoulders, and occasionally Klah will perch up, but Lisp, Sehlen, and Yfandes are prone to doing their own things as of late, since now I've got Rashkecharath. Yfandes, especially - as the most recent addition to my fair, she's not quite as loyal as Denocte, who's a bit upwards of five turns, now. And Klah - ah, dear Klah. I believe Rianna named him?
But the above isn't what this entry is supposed to be about. Nah, I'm just rambling, and getting the chance to call my dear Rash 'Rashkabibble' a few times. He hates that name. I, however, think it's hilarious. Especially since his name is, by nature, hard to pronounce. Either way...I was just rambling again, wasn't I? Ah, well. As I get on in turns, I suppose I must lose some of my youthful characteristics, such as the ability to stay focused. Player's note: Note the irony here. ;) For the uninformed, Larna, at this point in time, is a mere 19 turns.
Yes. Back to the subject. I GOT TAPPED! For Mudslide, no less. Ah, it's wonderful already - so many people I know in that wing, and...since Rash says I'm antisocial, I suppose that's good. He's the king of social-ness, though, so I say his opinion doesn't count much. Mudslide!! Sii'kyn tapped me. He started babbling about surfing, if my memory serves me, and it got around to a knot. Eek!!! Rash just looked all sly and knowing, but I expect he didn't know anything. Silly dragon. How I adore him.
current mood:  chipper
current music: Isabo - meowing cheerily
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| Sunday, March 2nd, 2003
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5:15 pm - General...update
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The time is 12:15.
It is noon of the fifty-second day of spring.
It is the thirty-fifth Turn of the Tenth Pass.
It is a spring noon.
The handwriting appears...as if the writer's not really focused on what she's doing. Most likely an entry out of boredom, knowing Larna. It's written slowly, as if she's taking her time with it.
Weyrlinghood's almost over. Which means Rash 'n I will soon be full-fledged riders, patrolling the skies against Thread...or something like that. Rash's looking forward to the flights, though. Lustful beast.
Sii'kyn's Sidramuntalath caught Ysbryth, so he's now the Weyrleader...odd, isn't it? Seems just a short while ago that he, Wyn, and the others were candidates, and I was a baker. Or was I still a weyrbrat, then?
In others news...nothing much, really. My life's been fairly peaceful, as of late.
-Larna
current mood: calm
current music: 'Brats. Some adults. Typical LC noises.
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| Sunday, December 15th, 2002
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8:37 pm - What was I thinking?
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The handwriting is aggravated and annoyed - everything on the page says it. Cheers! Larna seems the happy one.
Gah, I never knew caring for a dragon could be such work. I swear, Rashkecharath takes amusement in my pain.
<< Larna, I feel an itch coming on. >>
<< Larna, I have the urge to bathe... >>
<< Larna, could you get me a little dainty pillow I can rest my forepaws on? >>
...Perhaps not the last, but still. And if I so much as say, "No you ungrateful brown lump," the AWLMs swoop down on me like a pack of vultures. 'Be kind to your dragon!' 'Love him!'
And all the while, Rashkecharath is laughing his brown arse off. Mentally, of course. His outward appearance tends towards the somewhat pitiful when such things are going on. I don't know if they believe his little act.
Although I do love you, Rash.
Yes. He's looking over my shoulder.
-Larna & Rash
Entry ended somewhat hastily, as if Larna was unexpectedly called over for a lesson, or Rashkecharath demanded an oiling.
current mood:  aggravated
current music: Rashkecharath.
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| Saturday, December 7th, 2002
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9:11 am - Oh...
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The time is 04:14.
It is before dawn of the fifty-second day of spring.
It is the thirty-fourth Turn of the Tenth Pass.
It is a spring before dawn.
The writing is shaky and unsure, as if Larnat - Larna - isn't quite so sure exactly what she's doing. It looks to be that, with a good dose of excitement mixed in. All of which means...shaky handwriting.
I...I don't know what to say. I'm speechless. Utterly speechless. Ha. Rash's just cheekily informed me that he has enough words for the both of us. I should probably mention who Rash is, shouldn't I? Well. He's taller than me, at this point. About six feet.
And. He's a dragon, a brown dragon. My lifemate. I'm so...completely astounded. His name's Rashkecharath. I just call him Rash. He's a wonderful, daring, mischievous brown. It's funny. A perfect fit, my perfect match. All in a gooey dragonet that charged head-on at us after he hopped out of a purple egg. Yfandes didn't spawn on me. I'm happy.
Oh. And it's Larna now. I think.
-Larna & Rash
Signed with an extra little flourish on Rash's name, knowing Larna.
current mood: jubilant
current music: Rash.
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| Wednesday, November 27th, 2002
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1:32 pm - Candidacy...
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The time is 08:44.
It is midmorning of the twelfth day of spring.
It is the thirty-fourth Turn of the Tenth Pass.
It is a spring midmorning. The rain starts to fall at mid-morning, drenching the land with a steady, light fall. The clouds are still thick in the sky as far as the eye can see. The cool wind and the rain are a chill combination, and travelers are bundled up today to stay warm and dry.
The writing is frustrated, tired, lazy, curious, everything all at once. To sum it up, it's Larnat's normal writing style. Nothing special. A summary of the events going on as of late.
...Has been an armful. Besides the near-constant chores, there's even been a tuber-strike. Nothing largescale, of course. Just general, non-verbal dissent. Nothing important. Although it is a very good rallying cry.
But I ramble. Other than that, there's only one time I've gotten into trouble. And that was an accident, too. Myliren (fellow candidate) fell down this hole onto the sands, and a bunch of us went to see where he went. And...we fell too. And Nuff was not happy. Now we have to parade around the whole weyr with our dunce caps proudly displaying the fact that we were 'stupid' enough to go out on the sands alone. And it wasn't even our fault.
Ah, well. Dragged up to G'deon's weyr with some others to make leathers, having precious little time to talk to people I'm so often involved in more chores than I can count. I hope Yfandes doesn't start spawning on me any time soon. Other than that, though...it's been curiously interesting. Getting to know the other candidates. As of late, Pyrene made me eat soapsand and watch Pidge. Psh. Nothing much else worth saying.
-Larnat
Name is signed with a flourish, as always. It's Larnat.
current mood:  lethargic
current music: Candidate barracks noise.
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| Monday, October 28th, 2002
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10:59 am - OhmydearFaranth!
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It is before dawn of the sixtieth day of autumn.
It is the thirty-third Turn of the Tenth Pass.
It is an autumn before dawn. The sky is still dark, and Belior is barely visible, setting dimly on the horizon. A pale light in the east promises dawn soon. The air is clear, crisp, and, as usual this season, chilly!
The writing is loopy and excited, quite unlike normal Larnat-writing, grumpy and disgruntled, or angry and upset, or shocked, or even bored. It's bouncy</i>, Faranth help us.</i>
Eeeeek! I have to write Sa'rn, I have to talk to Wyn, I have to...
Eee!
Arg. Klah's pecking at my ear. I suppose I should be coherent, or something. Bah. Anyway, I was in the Quiet Corners -- the clutching was a few days back, I made some bets, I suppose that's important. Because it means Search. Anway. I was in the Quiet Corners with Enceladus (Assistant Nanny) and Auryn, a 'brat. Then Tyara stormed in, demanded Auryn leave, yanked Enceladus off, and I followed. I was drinking my klah, you see. Sigh. I don't have it, now. Left it somewhere in the hustle. Oh. Wait. I'm supposed to save that for later. Anyway. Siannen was there, with her brother Cr'ash. Tyara said she had to Search someone according to Zi'n, and picked Enceladus as her least-useful assistant, currently.
She had the dragons sniff him, and I suppose they liked him; he went off to the barracks with a new knot. Eee! Anyway. Then Shaela (goldrider) started asking why people were not doing their work, and I got nervous. Because I was taking a brief break from cooking. Siannen's brother, Cr'ash (rider of blue Bandicooth), walked over and made an attempt to flirt with me. It's been a while since anyone tried to do that. Ehee. I decided I could use him as a shield (so Shaela wouldn't see me, obviously), and he wasn't that bad-looking. I tried being nice, and I suppose it worked.
Then, he said that Bandicooth liked me. And they were having a disagreement, among other things. And then, he said (and I quote): "BandicoothsaysthatyoushouldStandforTiareth'sclutchbutyoucanstillsayno--he'sjustasillydragonreally!"
He asked me if I wanted to Stand! Eee! I said yes, you see, because I am sure that the cook (the one who scares me) was lurking around the corner. I'll swear on it. And I know she was going to make me do work -- so I said yes! He didn't want me to. I think he likes me. It's sort of cute, actually. I said I'd give him cookies, because I felt bad. Anyway.
I'm a Candidate!
Klah's pecking again. I think I'm going to oil him, after I find a place to put my old knot. Then I might start a letter to Sa'rn. I think I'm already feeling torn, though. I love cooking. I don't want to stop. Well. At least they say all you do is peel tubers, and that's somewhat like cooking, right?
</i>Here the entry ends abruptly, although Larnat's name is signed with a slight flourish.</i>
-Larnat, Baker Sr Apprentice posted to HRW, and HRW Candidate
current mood:  ecstatic
current music: Not much.
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| Monday, October 14th, 2002
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8:07 pm - Leolin, that annoying...@#$@%^#
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The time is 15:17.
It is afternoon of the fourth day of autumn.
It is the thirty-third Turn of the Tenth Pass.
It is an autumn afternoon. The shadows grow longer, and the warmth begins to fade as the sun travels relentlessly downwards. Ever stronger is the steady, gentle breeze, now more brisk than gentle. The sky is still clear, and a stunning bright blue that becomes darker as the sun sinks.
The writing's sharp and angry, annoyed and upset. Harsh lines dash T's, and sharp little pinpricks of annoyance form the dots on the i's.
Grr. He. Annoys. Me. So. Much. He acts like he has some sort of instinctive 'claim' over me, and some people seem to think the same. Like Ashli, for one - but I suppose I can forgive her. She's only seven or so, after all. She can't help it. That one cook, though, Arkejsliann, she seems to think so, too. It's just setting me in a bad mood (even among all the golds rising, and whatnot), because he always gets me angry. Faranth, I'd punch him if I could.
I'm beginning to feel sympathy to Wyn and her problems with N'sync. Arrrg. Well, besides that - like I said, golds have been rising, so I think a clutch's on the way. Which means dragons Searching people, I suppose. I honestly didn't remember until Ashli or someone mentioned it, I think.
Anyway. I'm ending the entry here.
~Larnat
(OOC: To clear things up. ICly, Larnat does hate Leolin, and really harbors no affection for him. Seriously, though, she really does hate him. If she did like him and wouldn't admit it, it would be too perfect and stereotypical, and I don't like that. ;) OOCly, though, me and Leolin-player are good friends, and were even clutchsibs elsegame.)
current mood:  pissed off
current music: Some really, really annoying Harper tune stuck in my head.
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| Wednesday, September 4th, 2002
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4:38 pm - Oy...
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It is noon of the twelfth day of spring.
It is the thirty-third Turn of the Tenth Pass.
It is a spring midmorning. The rain starts to fall at mid-morning, drenching the land with a steady, light fall. The clouds are still thick in the sky as far as the eye can see. The cool wind and the rain are a chill combination, and travelers are bundled up today to stay warm and dry.
The handwriting changes mid-way through the entry. At first, rather proud, as of a soldier writing a parent about the honors they received in war - neat and precise. Mid-way through, it changes to straight marks faintly connected...shocked and angered.
Well. I've had an interesting few days. It started, I suppose, with the Living Caverns. Which, I have noticed, is the birthing place of most of the Weyr's troubles. Curious. Either way, it was my break...for real, actually. I had just come from a nice spritz-off in the baths to rid myself of flour stains, when I came upon Tatia.
Who, normally, is a rather nice person. But she had the gall to ask me to replace her musty klah with fresh klah. And insisted I do so, even though I stated rather clearly that it was my break. K'nex wandered in, and we tried to get him to decide it for us. He was no help. And then Tatia had the nerve to call me...what was it? Little twit of wherry fluff or something, after I accidently spilt the klah pitcher. Even though it did not even come near her.
So I had to call her a slave-driver greenrider back. And I suppose other insults were said, and then, out of nowhere...she punched me! Right in the eye! It's black and swollen now, by the by. But, anyway, I had to kick her in the shin. And I swear by Faranth, it must've been a Weyr-wide brawl. Everyone was taking up sides, Dominicke was restraining me and people were yelling. Not to mention that then nannies and guards starting hitting each other. Eventually, I think it was...G'deon? dragged us both off. And calmed us down. I did leave my mark on Tatia, however. Ha.
And this is where things get really odd. The next morning or so, I woke up to trudge into the Caverns. Ike, Traj, Tatia and one of the new nannies were there - so I avoided Tatia and her company, the nanny. Sitting with Sii'kyn and Trajan, of course. Oh, I was told by someone that Tatia was proddy. Which, I suppose, explains it, but the black eye stings too much for me to forgive her now. Even though it's not that deep. Anyway.
Trajan was upset about how Sii'kyn apparently got involved with flight emotions in a non-flight, and ended up sleeping with Siannen? And, understandably, Trajan was angry. I tried to sort it all out, but somehow it ended up me threatening to maime Ike if he didn't set his head on straight. And Trajan came to my defense, and Ike had the nerve to suggest that...there was something between Trajan and me. Honestly. Firstly, even if I did like him as more than a friend, I don't think he leans that way.
~Larnat
current mood:  shocked
current music: Bustling sounds of the kitchen.
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| Tuesday, August 20th, 2002
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9:29 am - Mud, mud, everywhere...And not a drop to drink.
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It is before dawn of the thirty-sixth day of winter.
It is the thirty-third Turn of the Tenth Pass.
It is a winter before dawn. The clouds have begun to thin out, as a breeze from the north pushes the storm front out of the area. Starry patches of night sky can be seen through the breaks in the clouds
The handwriting starts off in a flood of excitement - but slows to a quiet fear as the entry draws to a close. Loops and swirls. Then small, quietly frightened ones.
Denocte's still trying to win her over, Lisp is jealous, Klah is hoping for a...err, cheering partner or something, and Sehlen actually listens to her. The newest addition to my fair, and most likely the last - gold Yfandes. Given to me (complete surprise), I think she's fitting in nicely. Fierce, if elegant little flizard. She is ignoring Denocte, rolling her eyes at Lisp, looking at Klah as if he's grown a fifth head, and chittering to Sehlen, at this moment.
But there are other events that have struck the Weyr, as of late.
There's some sort of mudslide. All over 'Reaches, just dribbling into our rooms, sneaking up our legs...After cooking for the relief effort, I most likely looked like Vorkoroth just ran me over or something...but anyway. It was an informal gathering, more likely - with riders, guards, crafters, and residents alike. Then it startted pouring in. Faranth, smelled like sulfur...the stench's still clogging my nose.
We retreated into the Inner Caverns and started setting up a barricade, shoving sandbags at the door to stop the muck. Then we grabbed supplies; blankets, boots, spare clothes. And ran up to the Quiet Corners. It hasn't stopped, either.
What will happen next to our Weyr?
~Larnat
current mood: shocked
current music: The mud. Always, the mud.
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| Sunday, August 11th, 2002
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9:58 pm - ...Promotion!
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The time is 16:55.
It is afternoon of the eighty-fourth day of autumn.
It is the thirty-second Turn of the Tenth Pass.
It is an autumn afternoon.
The writing is excited, ups and downs and all sorts of squigglies in the margins. Some doodles of mud and riders, as well. Fascinating.
Oh...
I got promoted! Can anyone believe it? I was completely unsuspecting, just going to the Living Caverns for a bit of a chat, when Lorsalia, a greenrider, pounced on me and told me that she was told by a baker to promote me!
Some mud-flinging went on in the caverns, too. But I should end the entry here, before I explode from excitement! That's Senior Apprentice Larnat, stationed at High Reaches Weyr, signing out.
~Larnat
current mood:  enthralled
current music: Relief efforts.
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| Saturday, August 10th, 2002
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9:17 pm - Oh dear Faranth...
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The time is 16:15.
It is afternoon of the eightieth day of autumn.
It is the thirty-second Turn of the Tenth Pass.
The autumn afternoon sun offers some warmth against the cold in the air. Huge mare's tails brush high across the sky above.
The handwriting is shaky, unsure, and generally terrified in a way it is normally not - the lines are wavy, and the letters all over the page. Someone is frightened, that's certain.
Oh dear Faranth...I hardly know what to write. I'm bleeding, and it's starting to hurt something Faranth-burned awful. And everyone...the rocks...aw, dammit. I'll just start from the beginning.
It was an ordinary day - Miria was on shift, and some of us were out there with her. But we all felt like something was wrong, and my firelizards have been giving me dark thoughts for days.
And before that there was that odd Threadfall over 'Reaches...
Anyway, a rock came shooting out of the sky - and broke apart into two rocks. Meteors or something. They crashed into Pern, and then the shaking started. Rocks came down from everywhere, and one hit near my knee. I think I remember it buckling, but I got back up fast and forgot about it.
People started sending out search parties, and everyone gathered on the sands. I started bandaging people and everything - when I noticed that I was bleeding. It didn't hurt then, they bandaged it up and put some numbweed on.
All right, it hurt. Badly. And it's starting to throb again now that the numbweed's rubbing off. Aftershocks are still happening. Faranth, I've never been so scared or felt so helpless in my life.
~Larnat
current mood:  scared
current music: Worried voices; whispers.
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| Friday, August 2nd, 2002
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5:14 pm - Well...
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The time is 14:14.
It is afternoon of the forty-eighth day of autumn.
It is the thirty-second Turn of the Tenth Pass.
It is an autumn afternoon. The sun slowly begins to descend; the grey clouds overhead seemed to have stretched this day interminably. A light breeze stirs the air slightly.
The handwriting is firm and decisive; broad strokes that show confidence in their lines.
Well, I've decided not to tell Fyria. I never could get ahold of her, and it would just be ruining her weyrmating with Kariel (yes, they got weyrmated) if I did. Well, anyway...Ashli got punished. Twice, I reckon - firstly, when we came back, and I was made to haul firestone as well. The indignity. Can you imagine?
Then she had Aries give her an oil paint tattoo, and pretended it was real. Honestly, I wanted to track down her tattooist and get m'self one. R'sli was about ready to send her into solitary confinement for the rest of her life, but Areiah placated him...I think I'm starting to fear R'sli. Scary man - he just...spanked Ashli, once. I fear for my rear. Anyway, Ead had a turnday party, as well. I'm there right now as I write this - talking to a stablehand named Saadni who's asking some suspicious questions about Trajan. Hmm.
~Larnat
current mood:  curious
current music: Duty Song, I've got it stuck in my head.
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| Saturday, July 13th, 2002
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1:58 pm - Back to 'Reaches! Whoo!
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The time is 10:56.
It is midmorning of the fifty-second day of summer.
It is the thirty-second Turn of the Tenth Pass.
It is a summer midmorning.
The writing is hurried and scrawled, but a little *bounce* hangs in the world...the baker lass apparently is startlingly happy at something. How unusual.
I'm back, I'm back, I'm back at 'Reaches...! Well, I suppose I should detail the event. It started with me kind of flopping about...and then I spotted Ashli! Which means I can drag m'self and her back up to my home without having to fear Areiah or R'sli hunting me down with a flamethrower...eee. In the end I had to threaten to chop G'mli's beard off...but he got us the right directions.
Shards, I didn't know how much I missed this old weyr of ice 'n rock. 'Reaches is my home...and fardles, I plan to stay here. For a while, at least. I missed my unofficial sister Wyn, and I missed my friends, like Ike and Nylca...I even missed Damia. So glad to be back...Ista's Searching, by the by. I've no bets on who will Impress, as I don't know any of them. But should be interesting to watch, neh? And this time I'll get reliable transport.
I love being evil at points. To people like G'mli. But anyway, I'm going to close this entry and dance around the Weyr! In an odd mood, I am.
~Larnat
Hurried ending - she has Weyrs to dance around, you know.
current mood:  giddy
current music: 'Reaches dragons...oh /joy/!
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| Wednesday, July 3rd, 2002
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4:34 pm - Stuck at Ista
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Still stuck. Don't know why I'm writing again, except to get out my frustrations.
Well, I saw Dhiammarath clutch, and...I did see a stargazing event or some such thing. But haven't seen hide nor hair of Ashli.
Don't even know why this is a separate journal entry.
Hmm.
Denocte and Klah and Lisp and Sehlen are just...completely wack, as always. Just creepy...and always as annoying as always. Constantly gettting me into trouble.
Bah! I suppose I do a good enough job of that myself, though.
Hmm.
How should I do my signature? Like...this -Larnat- or this -Larnat-. Oh well, I think I'll just...just...just use:
~Larnat
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4:33 pm
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The time is 13:30.
It is afternoon of the sixteenth day of summer.
It is the thirty-second Turn of the Tenth Pass.
It is a summer afternoon. The rain has lightened to a gentle shower, and the sky is lighter, though still covered with clouds.
The writing is slashes and and crossing lines, angry and the writer seems generally annoyed with her situation. Nothing else new.
Grrr. See, Ashli had a simple wish...to go to Ista Weyr, I think it was. I got G'mli and Vsdth (who owe me) to take us there. But no, they had to mess up the sharding directions (they always do, I should've known better) and take us to Ista Hold. And I haven't been able to meet up with Ashli and get us a real dragonrider ride back.
So I'm now effectively a kidnapper of a Weyrwoman's daughter. Life is oh so fun, no? Well, on the upside, I suppose that I'm...meeting new people, certainly. G'mli drags me around to the oddest places, and I'm always having to worry about if Ashli is all right or not.
My life certainly seems difficult.
~Larnat
current mood: aggravated
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| Monday, June 10th, 2002
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8:39 am - ...
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It is before dawn of the eighth day of spring.
It is the thirty-second Turn of the Tenth Pass.
It is a spring before dawn. A gentle, warm breeze has picked up. Combined with the soft glow of pre-dawn light this promises a pleasant spring day ahead. A haze of mist rises from the ground.
The writing is short, quick, and to the point, as if Lar's trying to get something out of her soul or such.
Life's confusing.
Simple, short, and to the point.
~Larnat
current mood: angry
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| Thursday, June 6th, 2002
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12:52 pm - I'm writing more frequently. Is that a good or bad thing?
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The time is 09:34.
It is midmorning of the seventy-sixth day of winter.
It is the thirty-second Turn of the Tenth Pass.
It is a winter midmorning.
Does the style of the handwriting today feel vinidictive? One wouldn't know, but something seems to be lurking amongst the words to that particular effect.
Talked to Wyn, and she seems not to hold me accountable for it? Hmmm...her words are making me feel less and less like it's my fault, but is that a good or bad thing? I've resolved to tell Fyria, though and not have Wyn tell her for me...that's just too easy, and taking the easy way out, right? Shards, this's making me think in circles and doubt myself. Whole mess. If only I hadn't gotten drunk...never drinking wine again.
Impressed another male, too...blue Sehlen. I doubt he'll be capable of controlling my bunch, but he can try, no? Should be interesting to watch, anyway. He did a good job of handling Denocte, Klah, and Lisp...but still, a female would've been preferable. I want to be a clutch mother, sharditall!
And I realized, of course, around two seconds after I left Kare's room that he was using me for sexual revenge. Which is...a bit depressing, if you think about it in hindsight, but nothing other than that, I suppose. Still, it's put me in a bit of a bitchy mood. Even was a bit snide and nasty to some kitchen drudges today. Hmmm, I'll apologize to them tomorrow, I suppose, but it was satisfying to take my emotions out on them.
Still feel a bit bad about it, though. And Wyn looked oddly seething when I left? Hope she isn't upset at me. That would be just what I need, Fyria's probably already going to be none-too-pleased when I get around to tell her. Don't think she's mad at me, though, kept trying to convince me it wasn't my fault. Hmm. Could she be mad at...Kariel? Something to think about, though it escapes my mind at the moment. Stuff like this really kills off sensible thought, I suppose.
~Larnat
The writing trails off, as if the writer decides perhaps to go apologize to those drudges she angered...with a few odd marks of firelizard claws. Apparently Sehlen has been playing with her ink and journal.
current mood:  bitchy
current music: Sehlen. What else?
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| Tuesday, June 4th, 2002
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5:23 pm - Oh dear...
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The time is 14:00.
It is afternoon of the sixty-eighth day of winter.
It is the thirty-second Turn of the Tenth Pass.
It is a winter afternoon. The sun begins to sink toward the west, and the lengthening shadows form patches even colder than the already chill air. A few thin whisps of cloud ride the wind through the sky, but they don't accumulate.
The writing is shaky and scrawled all over the page, as if the writer is nervous about her life in general, and about the consequences of a recent action.
Oh. Shards. Oh. Dear. Oh. My. Remind me never to drink again...I was chatting with Kariel in the Living Caverns, when he mentioned that Damia was rather loose about the general apprentice restrictions, wine included, so I opened my bottle and took a few heavy drinks...to the point where I was beginning to be drunk, I suppose. And Kariel mentioned he wanted me to see his collection of brandy...so I followed him to his Healer Quarters.
Where we proceeded to...how to put this delicately? Sleep together. And shards, was it marvelous. I'm fairly sure that I don't feel anything more than physical attraction for Kariel. At least that's one good thing...but what about Fyria? I feel like a terrible person at this point...even if I was drunk, I enjoyed it. Shards I feel guilty. And I must say...Kariel is certainly talented. But I know Fyria and he are...were...whatever. He said not to worry about it, as they are on hiatus, but...
...shards, I can't help it. Fyria's my friend, or at the very least someone I wouldn't want to hurt. And I wonder if I did? I had kitchen duties to attend to and had to leave soon after the act, but they finished quickly and now I'm back, writing from a secluded part of the Brat Caves. I have to talk to someone about this...perhaps Wyn, if I ever catch her around? She should know Fyria well enough to help me sort this out...
~Larnat
The handwriting trails off in a flurry of odd dashes across the bottom, evidently the writer is in some moral conflict at this point, but then resumes, an attempt to make a note quickly.
Must talk to someone. Anyone!
current mood:  worried
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| Monday, June 3rd, 2002
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2:01 pm - Shards...
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The time is 10:59.
It is midmorning of the sixty-fourth day of winter.
It is the thirty-second Turn of the Tenth Pass.
It is a winter midmorning. The sun is fully up, although you cannot see it as any more than a bit of yellow illumination behind the clouds. Every once in a while a bit of snow flurries around, and a thin layer of snow has been laid over the frozen slush, somewhat improving the area's appearance.
The handwriting is scrawled and none-too-steady, a bit wavering and full of odd loops and turns unusual to the style of the writer.
Shards. Life seems terrible for others, at times. But that's going to take a bit of explaining, as I haven't recorded in here for a bit. I suppose the whole mess of trouble...well, I'll begin with after the Senior Weyrling ceremony. Afterwards, the restrictions for weyrlings were lifted. So I'll return to the Kamikaze party...which I found out about and singularly came to despite anything else...hehe. Even cooked, and Sinead baked some, too. But it ended...even before that! Miyakath, Ista's youngest queen, rose. And I was there. Faranth, it was terrible...I felt sharding bad for Yulianna, and have firmly decided that riding gold is not nearly as much fun as riding a color with more freedom, and...I want to ride brown. But that's another matter. The Kamikaze party ended in /two/ greens rising. Vespurath and Imbriath.
I escaped before anything /serious/ happened, but the wine just...that's right. Wyn introduced me to red wine, Benden's, and it's truly heavenly. 'Sides, I get to disobey rules by drinking it...heh. And so I was fairly drunk at this point...but I /did/ get out on time. And then...Fyria brought it upon herself, I suppose. But backtrack - I got turnday gifts from both P'rru and Wyn. P'rru's - a charm, and Wyn's - more wine! Quite amused about this...not many seem to agree with me drinking it.
Consequentially I take inordinate ammounts of pleasure doing so, and it's sharding fun. But...Fyria slept with E'an and Kh'ryn...completely abandoning Kariel by the wayside, and he /waited/ for her, for a turn, keeping celibate because he loved Fyria. And she betrayed him. I feel bad for the both of them, don't get me wrong...but Faranth, I feel a lot sorrier for Kariel. It must be hard, to be in love. And I'm speaking oddly contemplatively. It's getting on my nerves, so I'll cease writing now.
~Larnat
current mood: cynical
current music: Quiet, thank Faranth.
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| Sunday, May 19th, 2002
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1:36 pm - Many, many things...
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The time is 10:35.
It is midmorning of the fourth day of winter.
It is the thirty-second Turn of the Tenth Pass.
It is a winter midmorning. The wind has picked up slightly, but the gray winter clouds seem unmoving as they hover over the land. The wind is chill and cold, and snow is imminent.
The writing is oddly reflective, oddly contemplative for the girl who's always in a maelstorm (pun intended) and, though certainly not rash, can be a bit to handle if she's angry.
Well, I went for some skinny-dipping. Only it was group skinny-dipping. Wasn't so bad, as long as I just kind of stayed below the surface. /Rianna/ was even there for...a while or two. With Fyria and a bronzerider...T'am. Mrr.
Speaking of Rianna...she left, just a few days ago. And that's one less kidlet that I don't have to keep a supply of paint around as a warning for them. I'm going to miss her...I baked Anna-child a basket of extra-sweet mystery-ingrediant cookies, as well. Extra sweet for Rianna.
And the weyrlings graduated...they've their own wing now, the Maelstrom Wing, with Fyria as Wingleader and Wyn and Sii'kyn as Wingseconds. Nasty clingy man who was useful in telling me some of the names I missed, but he got clingy during the end, so I beat him off with a broom. Ha. So much is...changing. But that's life, no? Especially around a Weyr.
~Larnat
current mood:  contemplative
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