Black Sheep

This life is a constant suffering of being too much and still not enough. — Sherry Namdeo

[writtenmen]

rider-ismadi​:

“Jyrvir is well, sire, and send his regards to you.” Ismadi shifts his weight awkwardly from foot to foot. The dragon rider eyes the room with care, just in case. He didn’t like Dele. It made him remember old days of different times when blond men ruled these lands with cunning smiles and ruthless hands. “Although, I confess, we will both rest easier when the family returns to Onderra,”

Tell him about the Guathier princeling. The kind one. Jyrvir’s suggestion threaded gently into his mind and he unconsciously shook his head, unaware that Reynaldo would see the gesture. I am not playing match-maker for princelings, you meddlesome Wyrm!

The future king of Ondera should marry someone kind. Jyrvir continued unabashed, while Ismadi’s face pinched in dismay. It is not our place to even suggest such a thing. If you want us to stay, let us just fulfill our duty and not get too close to them. Please.

“well, do send my regards to him, if that is the case.” the prince smiled at the rider, wondering how it would be to understand a dragon. the connection both beings could have amazed reynaldo, and while he didn’t want to be disrespectful with the comparison, it made him think of something along the lines of a man and his dog. a loyal bond which nothing else could break. along with with, well, flying and fire-breathing.

the return to ondera was something reynaldo looked forward to as well. not only would he feel safer with knowing his father is away from the palace where another king had been murdered, but the tensions he felt when inside the delessian land were weighing on him. last time he had come, it had left him nothing but heartache. “hopefully we will be heading back home as soon as prince owen is crowned. we stay for the ceremony, the subsequent ball, and we should be safe to leave.” he mused with his stare lost on the stained glass of the nearby window, only turning towards ismadi to find him silent and…funny-looking. it made the younger male rise an eyebrow in slight concern.

“is…everything alright?” maybe he needed a bathroom.

[rider-ismadi]

TELL HIM TELL HIM TELL HIM Jyrvir chants in a sing song voice. While almost always wise and worldly, there were also times that Jyrvir could be playful or stubborn. On rare occasions like today, he was both. TELL HIM TELL HIM TELL HIM

Of course, then the future king favors him with a look of concern and Ismadi has to wonder just how queer he must look at the moment. Giving his head a shake and admitting defeat, he smiles faintly at the prince. “Quite so. Sometimes, I fear that the reputation of dragons as fonts of wisdom get to their egos which leads them to be quite opinionated. Particularly on matters where their views are neither needed nor solicited.”

“For instance, the other day we happened to spend some time with Prince Avery Gauthier of Dele. Indeed, the young man struck us both as being a kind and gentle soul. Jyrvir has gotten into his head that Prince Avery might make a good queen for you,” Ismadi raises a hand to gently stem any comments on the subject. While he may have been cajoled into expressing this information, he would make sure it landed in his own way. “I did try to tell Jyrvir that he and I had no place in advising you on such a topic. But dragons do as dragons do, sire.”

[darreth-thehand]

rider-ismadi​:

“Dragon riders have to think on the fly, as it were,” Ismadi saluted the other male and smirks as he pours some of the elixir into a beer stein. Closing the lid he sloshes it a bit to mix before sipping the beer-elixir. He did arch an eyebrow when Darreth spoke of his mother using the non fermented elixir as a cure-all. Not that he was unfamiliar with it, it was a common practice among the Children of Daganth. Just that the other was familiar with it in both fermented and non fermented forms. “Somehow, I’m not entirely surprised you would dare taste forbidden fruits.”

“If I didn’t have your attention in a certain way, you would have left by now.” Ismadi smiles as be continues to sip his drink. The euphoria of the elixir was mellowing out his anxiety and self-doubts. Which naturally made his tongue more limber and his filters less exacting. “Truthfully, I think it is you who has intentions on acquiring my attentions. You’re doing a great job, by the by. Most humans are flying high by just a whiff. That you’re sipping this as you are? Well, if I have to carry you to your bed, it’ll be an honor.”

-

“You have…no idea,” Darreth simply replied to the other’s statement and gave him a small wink. It wasn’t easy for Darreth to open up or like just anyone he met. Things needed to click, most of his life Darreth believed himself to be an introvert. In a way he still was, but he was letting others in a little more while keeping a firm guard up. So far, Ismadi didn’t appear to be as annoying and boastful as he first seemed to be. “That is true,” Darreth said, “Or I could wait for a perfect moment where you think you’re safe, and then cut your throat. You never know.” Of course, Darreth wouldn’t do that, he was just humouring the rider. Darreth could already feel the effects of the elixir, but it wasn’t as aggressive as when he first had it to drink, nor did he feel the slight over vaporized potency that he would feel when it was applied to his body as a child. Perhaps it was due to being much older now. Still, it wasn’t without its effects, and that was why Darreth drank it straight but took little sips at a time. “You’re adorable, Lord Rider,” Darreth teased, easing up a bit, “But usually I do the carrying. And it’s darling that you believe we’ll be in bed together.” He found himself scooting closer to the rider. “I mean…you might not be wrong.”

[rider-ismadi]

Hmm… wasn’t there a ballad sung about the last time a treacherous fool attempted to kill my rider?Jyrvir supplied serenely from where he was curled up for the night. A single giant green eye openned and peered in the direction of the tavern. Perhaps you should ask the minstrels to play it.

“I fear your skills at courting and flirting are in worse repair than my own, Lord Hand,” Ismadi replies grimly, pushing away the elixir laced beer. Gesturing to the tavern wrench, he signals he would like a new ale. While he wasn’t purging the elixir from his system, he wasn’t as comfortable imbibing as he had been. “My last lover was a first cousin, confidante and trusted general of the last king of Aldonia. Who attempted to slit my throat abed on the orders of the king who I had turned on my family for.”

“I don’t really believe you intend me harm, Lord Hand. I suspect that this is all a display of strength. Virility. Whatever, I don’t particularly care.” Ismadi shrugs and salutes with the fresh ale he’s been handed. “For what it is worth, it has been so long since I’ve been physically intimate with anyone that I care precious little who does the carrying. I apologize if I have at any point made you feel that this was all necessary.”

[ofswordandcrown]

rider-ismadi​:

“Of all the taverns in all of Aldonia, I stumbled into his,” Ismadi shakes his head, trying to clear it, and sits heavily on the bench opposite his great great grand nephew. After spending decades and working so diligently at avoiding being a mile from any Meksi, here Izzy was, across a table from one.

“Let’s toast to the new one, eh? New kings are better than old ones and far better than dead ones” Izzy slurs as a fresh ale is placed before him. “New ones, everyone is looking at.. at a brighter future. The other kinds, it’s really hard to stop looking at all the shitty things they done did do.”

-

Even in his slightly intoxicated state, he could tell that there was something remotely familiar about the male before him. A man with skin the color of bronze, hair as dark as a raven’s wing, and a jawline that seemed practically chiseled by marble, something about the man about him was familiar - or maybe that was just because he found the man attractive? He wasn’t sure, but he couldn’t help but smile lightly at the words and gives a nod. “Aye, indeed. To the health of the future king… and to a brighter future!”

With the toast, he lifted his glass up before he downed the rest of his beverage and walked over to the man. “You have experienced the shitty things old kings have done then, kind sir? Or are you talking in generics? Because me thinks you may have a story to tell, handsome stranger.”

[rider-ismadi]

Daganth be kind, Ismadi thought to himself. He could see a strong resemblance in Matai to his brother’s queen. All had agreed that Liang had been the handsomest man in all of Rockreach. Seeing his descendent before him was arousing unnerving.

“I was sworn to a king once. I believed I loved him and owed him my complete devotion,” Izzy shakes his head before he gulps at his beer. “but he betrayed me. Said he couldn’t trust me. Said I was a spy. Tried to kill me, he did. Stupid bastard. I’m my father’s son and it’ll take more than some towheaded bastard to kill me,”

[ofswordandcrown]

rider-ismadi​:

Location: A Tavern Anywhere (except Eddis)

Open to: Anyone (except House Canalo) — he knows and accepts you lot as royalty. Everyone else might as well be a sex worker.

Ismadi walked into the tavern dressed in his usual brown riding leathers, but this set was recently cleaned and oiled. He had also bathed earlier and had daubed a bit of myrrh behind his ears and wrists. The scent reminded him of Eddis, of Rockreach, of the family he turned away from. Of course, that was the point. He had lost a bet to Jyrvir and here he was “reconnecting with humans.”

From a belt pouch he pulled an ornate and intricately wrought piece of lapis lazuli jewelry that was over a hundred years old. He put on the table between the other person and himself. “Jyrvir thinks I have forgotten how to forge a human connection and suggested I seek out intimacy with one of my own kind. This is for your time and trouble.”

-

Taverns, truthfully, never held any interest in the Hand of the King. He wasn’t much a fan of drinking, as he didn’t enjoy the feeling of being inebriated or intoxicated - he liked keeping his senses sharp - but sometimes it was a place he had to go to meet a nobleman or two on behalf of his sovereigns. What he found when he entered, though, was certainly not what he expected. Watching as the dragon rider placed an obviously expensive piece of jewelry atop the table in front of someone, the Hand couldn’t help but walk over and clear his throat.

“I think Jyrvir may be right, if you think giving one a piece of jewelry would bring about intimacy.” At least, true intimacy. He knew that plenty could spend money and jewels to get the taste of it, but none of it was real. “You can try to make a connection with me, rider. I may not be the most interesting you may find, but at least we share a common goal.”

[rider-ismadi]

“If nothing else, it would be novel to have someone judge my inadequacies and insecurities without knowing my history or my thoughts,” Ismadi glowers at the taller male, stuffing the trinket into a pocket he gestures for Kyros to lead the way to a table or booth while he waves down a server.

“So, my lord Hand, what is this common goal we share?” Ismadi did not often interact with Oberon’s small council. While the royal family had always been kind, the nobility of Ondera had been mixed on his fealty. As a rule, Izzy tried not to provoke the locals. “Beyond the usual ones, I mean,”

[sassytheoden]

rider-ismadi​:

“Well, if you are showing me around to yours, I should hope that we are friends, given how very close we are likely to get while we are there,” Ismadi smiles a little easier, a bit more genuinely. Likely as not, conversing with a dragon rider was just easier. They understood things better.

“I understand, Theo.” Izzy shrugs a little awkwardly, considering how much to say, how much to omit. Deciding to keep it light and hopefully not dampen the mood. “My full name sometimes gets more attention than I like, but Izzy could be anyone. Being anyone else can be a lot less stressful, more pleasant, you know?”

~~~

Theoden let out a chuckjle as he heard the other man’s words. “Is that so?” Theoden teasingly asked in a sing-song tone of voice. Theoden was happy to note that the other seemed to be relaxing a bit more around him, something that he was happy for. 

“Yeah…I didn’t even do it intentionally at first. Some people just started calling me Theo, and I realized that it wasn’t so bad. I don’t ask people to call me one name over the other anymore.” Theoden said with a shrug of his shoulders and a chuckle as he smoothed out his skirt. “Just ask that they not be assholes.” Theoden said with a grin.

[rider-ismadi]

“I suppose that always happens to people with polysyllabic names. Humanity just wants to shorten them down to something easily and swiftly said,” Izzy says tacitly ignoring the sing-song tone of the previous statement. He was relaxing, yet feeling confused by the other rider. Unsure of his intent.

“So,” Izzy says after taking a sip of his beer, trying to keep the conversation going without it getting weird. “What brought you here tonight?”

[darreth-thehand]

rider-ismadi​:

“How peculiar! When last I spent time in these lands, the Hands were always so much older than you appear to be. Less handsome. More careworn.” Ismadi shrugs lightly at the curiosity, clearly unphased that the other sought to stay on formal terms. Young men in positions of power tended to hold faster to the trappings of power under the impression that the symbols gave them power. “For what it is worth, I felt you had to be a Gentleman of considerable repute. I could not reason why else so handsome a man might otherwise be drinking alone, if only the company did not suit his taste or purse.”

“If that’s what you might prefer, certainly,” Ismadi pulls a wineskin from his back and fills a short glass half full of a luminous chartreuse colored liquid the consistency of drinking chocolate. “Given the constitution of the dragon riders, typical intoxicants take significantly larger quantities to have an effect. This elixir is brewed by the children for us. It provides a sense of detached euphoria, but can be purged from our system with a little water. By all means, try some.”

-

“Clever save,” Darreth replied to the other’s thought of him being a reputable noble. He had come across a few dragon riders who forgot how to behave around other humans. He couldn’t exactly blame them. Being someone with special gifts, such as a mage or rider, it was almost like being a god. He could only assume it was that very reason people began acting a certain way. He wasn’t at all offended, if anything he was amused. “I suppose the company I have now isn’t all that tumultuous.” Darreth had finished off his drink and let Ismadi fill his empty chalice with what he was offering now. He was the son of a former Child of Daganth. This elixir Ismadi poured in his chalice was something he was familiar with. “My mother would alter the ingredients and used it on me when I was feeling ill or if I had a cut. She used to be a follower of Daganth. I’m aware of what this is. She got upset with me once in my semi adult youth, when I dared take a sip of it.” The Hand knew how to handle his alcohol, so his tolerance was strong. Still, he hadn’t had a taste of this in years so it might affect him in a way that would surprise him. “Do you intend to get my attention in a certain way, Lord Ismadi, when I’m intoxicated by this?” Darreth asked, offering a smirk and having a swig of the elixir. It was strong, definitely the same taste as the one he drank from his mother’s stash years ago.

[rider-ismadi]

“Dragon riders have to think on the fly, as it were,” Ismadi saluted the other male and smirks as he pours some of the elixir into a beer stein. Closing the lid he sloshes it a bit to mix before sipping the beer-elixir. He did arch an eyebrow when Darreth spoke of his mother using the non fermented elixir as a cure-all. Not that he was unfamiliar with it, it was a common practice among the Children of Daganth. Just that the other was familiar with it in both fermented and non fermented forms. “Somehow, I’m not entirely surprised you would dare taste forbidden fruits.”

“If I didn’t have your attention in a certain way, you would have left by now.” Ismadi smiles as be continues to sip his drink. The euphoria of the elixir was mellowing out his anxiety and self-doubts. Which naturally made his tongue more limber and his filters less exacting. “Truthfully, I think it is you who has intentions on acquiring my attentions. You’re doing a great job, by the by. Most humans are flying high by just a whiff. That you’re sipping this as you are? Well, if I have to carry you to your bed, it’ll be an honor.”

[darreth-thehand]

rider-ismadi​:

Taken from here for @darreth-thehand

“Ah, I apologize,” Izzy vaguely recalled that sex workers preferred to see payment upfront to separate the time wasters from the legitimate johns. Perhaps this establishment catered to a more up-market clientele where one was expected to be able to pay afterwards. He collects the necklace and puts it away before inclining his head respectfully, “Ismadi Meksi, dragon rider bonded to Jyrvir and sworn to protect house Canalo and the lands of Ondera. But please, call me Izzy or Izz. It is what my friends called me.”

“Why would you sit in a tavern if you wanted to drink alone?” Izzy asks as he promptly sits down on the bench opposite the younger man. Blithely unaware that he was attempting to buy a Hand of a king. He continues his line of inquiry quite earnestly, “Would you not be more comfortable and at ease in a comfortable sitting chair in a space of your own? With ale that is perhaps less watered down?”

He had to stop drinking as this man wasn’t planning on leaving him alone anytime soon. He put his glass down and looked toward the dragon rider who seemed to think highly of himself. “Well, Ismadi Meksi,” Darreth said, saying the other’s name as to make clear they weren’t friends, so he wouldn’t be using his nickname anytime soon, “I’m Darreth Shaed, Hand of the King to King Mathias of House Vastic. I have the sneaking suspicion you offered me that jewelry, under the impression that I’m a gentleman of the night. Which I am not.” Although the young Hand decided this gentleman clearly didn’t care what he said or thought, as he didn’t take the fact that Darreth wanted to be alone to drink into consideration. Zakar always did say he needed to make more connections outside of their friendship. “Is that what you can offer me, dragon rider?” Darreth asked, downing the shot of something stronger the barkeep handed to him. “I’ve had all kinds of ales, beers and whiskeys. Most of it tastes the same to me. So long as they do the job of intoxicating me, then I’m fine with it.” But a small part of him was intrigued in what the handsome man could offer.

[rider-ismadi]

“How peculiar! When last I spent time in these lands, the Hands were always so much older than you appear to be. Less handsome. More careworn.” Ismadi shrugs lightly at the curiosity, clearly unphased that the other sought to stay on formal terms. Young men in positions of power tended to hold faster to the trappings of power under the impression that the symbols gave them power. “For what it is worth, I felt you had to be a Gentleman of considerable repute. I could not reason why else so handsome a man might otherwise be drinking alone, if only the company did not suit his taste or purse.”

“If that’s what you might prefer, certainly,” Ismadi pulls a wineskin from his back and fills a short glass half full of a luminous chartreuse colored liquid the consistency of drinking chocolate. “Given the constitution of the dragon riders, typical intoxicants take significantly larger quantities to have an effect. This elixir is brewed by the children for us. It provides a sense of detached euphoria, but can be purged from our system with a little water. By all means, try some.”

[writtenmen]

rider-ismadi​:

Ismadi would have been content to stay with the Children of Dagnath after the deciding battle that ended the Meisian dynasty. Yet his dragon, Jyrvir, insisted that they find a kingdom to serve. After years of searching they Jyrvir had chosen Ondera and Oberon. While no one would accuse Ismadi of being a warm person anymore, what kindness was left in his heart was reserved for the Canalo family.

“I apologize for startling you, your highness.” Ismadi bowed to the prince in the old warrior fashion that was dated at best. His voice rumbled like water over river gravel as he continued. “I am just returned from my patrol and wanted to look in on you. See to it that you are well, sir”

“ismadi.” it took the crown prince a good couple of seconds to pin down the rider’s name. not that he had forgotten it, but his brain was barely readjusting from his impromptu nap. it took a sigh and a rub of his palms across his face to finally be able to face the other appropriately. “do not worry about it, you just caught me off guard.” which shouldn’t be the case. he should be alert, alert all the time. thankfully, ismadi was a dear friend and loyal companion to the house canalo, which put reynaldo’s nerves to ease.

well would be an overstatement. reynaldo was holding up, holding tightly onto a hair-thin string away from exhaustion. exasperation. but he was not about let that out, instead straightening his spine and offering the best smile he could muster. “i am well, thank you for your concern.” he was now standing up, returning the bow as courtesy required of him. “i trust jyrvir and yourself have been fine as well.”

[rider-ismadi]

“Jyrvir is well, sire, and send his regards to you.” Ismadi shifts his weight awkwardly from foot to foot. The dragon rider eyes the room with care, just in case. He didn’t like Dele. It made him remember old days of different times when blond men ruled these lands with cunning smiles and ruthless hands. “Although, I confess, we will both rest easier when the family returns to Onderra,”

Tell him about the Guathier princeling. The kind one. Jyrvir’s suggestion threaded gently into his mind and he unconsciously shook his head, unaware that Reynaldo would see the gesture. I am not playing match-maker for princelings, you meddlesome Wyrm!

The future king of Ondera should marry someone kind. Jyrvir continued unabashed, while Ismadi’s face pinched in dismay. It is not our place to even suggest such a thing. If you want us to stay, let us just fulfill our duty and not get too close to them. Please.

[wardenbazhrashishorin]

Moving In

Open to anyone. Smut or wholesome, you pick. :) Don't have to match length.

Bazhra was very excited. He had been accepted as a Junior Warden to serve his home kingdom. He watched from the carriage window as the castle grew closer and closer until it was no longer visible as they had arrived. As he stepped out, he immediately called forth the wind to pull a breeze through the area. He reached out magically to the plants nearby and they immediately sat up taller and healthier. Some even bloomed. He smiled to the staff of the castle there to greet him and turned to thank the carriage driver for a lovely ride. He flicked a gold coin towards him and guided it to his hand with some small bursts of wind. He turned back to the staff from the castle and flicked another few coins to the approaching stable hands as he said, "thank you for the assistance, folks. If you can just get the trunks down, I'll make sure they get to my room." As he finished speaking, he pointed a finger down and motioned as if he was stirring something. A small, partially visible, tightly controlled, cyclone of air formed on the ground under his finger. He gestured for the stable hands to set the first trunk down there. They did so, but were surprised to witness the trunk settle onto the cyclone and levitate a foot off the ground. He smiled at the hands once more before turning to approach the Butler waiting to guide him to his new quarters. The levitating trunk started to slowly follow Bazhra, but left another small cyclone of air where the first one was, ready to receive another trunk. He approached the butler and nodded in response to his bow. He followed the butler to the base of a tower reached through a garden in the one of the castle courtyards. Bazhra slipped the butler a gold coin as he shook his hand and thanked him for his assistance. He stepped into the tower. After a quick tour of the tower, Bazhra returned to the entry chamber of the tower and directed the lazy train of trunks to various floors of the tower based on what they contained. He, with a few hand motions and whispered words, started adjusting the room to his likings. Plants were sprouting in bunches in the corners of the room. The furniture started to shift and reshape into more natural forms. The chairs and couch grew larger and, instead of fabric to cushion the seat, they became filled with the softest springiest moss. Bazhra grabbed a glass from a nearby serving table and took a seat. He plucked a few berries from the nearest plant and dropped them in the glass as it slowly filled with water from seemingly nowhere. He took a decent pull before setting the glass aside to examine the most recent trunk to arrive. He opened it and began to pull art and decorations from it to decorate the current room. The door to his tower was open for any visitors and the remaining few trunks that were slowly trundling along. He was hopping to use the sight of the trunks to draw visitors to himself. Easiest way to draw attention and meet new people was with a show.

[rider-ismadi]

“It would be so much easier if my parents had been bad people. If I could say they favored my brother more. If I could pretend they never really loved me,” Ismadi speaks softly at his teacup. Unprepared to meet the others gaze. The magical displays while visually lost still seem to help him as his shoulders relax. “…but all of that would dishonor them and I owe them more than that.”

“The truth is, when Jyrvir’s egg chose me, my parents threw a week-long celebration that honored me, dragons, the color green, and the future dragon Jyrvir.” Ismadi smiles, remembering with relish all the attention. The pride in his parents eyes. Maybe a little of the envy his brother held that he would lead the dull life of a noble and not a Dragon Rider. “After the festival, my father offered a reward to the sage or armorer who designed the finest protection for me. He was resolute that cost was no object if the armor was the finest ever designed.”

“For fifty years, the armor I wore was studied and emulated by the dragon riders who came after me. My father never made me feel beholdened to him for it either. In his opinion it was his honor and privilege to secure the armor of his son.” The dragon rider wipes at his eye. He had been such a fool. If only he had known what he knew now. “My father only ever asked of me one favor, in all of his life. Just one. Can you guess what it was, Warden?”

[slicexofxtheirxlives]

rider-ismadi​:

“That sounds quite nice; let’s go then,” Ismadi cups his hands together, creating a stirrup to help Avery clamber up onto Jyrvir’s saddle. If Avery hesitates even slightly, the dragon will lift his head and turn his emerald green eyes on Avery. Wise and intelligent, there is what can only be described as amusement as he actually nods to Avery. “Whilst it is unusual for us to allow another to ride, I’ll be right behind you, and it isn’t very far.”

Once Avery is seated, Izzy climbs up behind him, knowing exactly where to put a foot and where to grab a spine or a horn. Once Avery is secured in front of him, Izzy calls out to Jyrvir to lift off.

With a jump and a flap, they fly up over the castle walls. Jyrvir banks in a low circle around a tower before gliding out over the landscape at a leisurely pace. When they reach the lake, Ismadi calls out above the wind, “Don’t you da—“

Before he can finish, however, the wings dip into the water, and when they flap upwards, they drench his passengers. The way the dragon rumbles beneath them, it is clear that Jyrvir is amused, at least. With a sudden burst of speed, the green dragon does a short barrel roll before landing them all safely on the bank of the lake.

xxx

Avery smiled when the other man said that sounded pretty nice. “Glad you like it.” Avery said with a smile. Avery carefully placed his foot on the other man’s cupped hands and used that as leverage to carefully climb onto the dragon. Avery gently pet the dragon’s neck and back, smiling at the dragon as it looked back at him. “You’re such a beauty.” Avery couldn’t help but to coo.

Avery felt the other climb behind him and relaxed a little bit. He wasn’t nervous persay, just a little anxious. Avery’s feet have never left this earth before other than to climb into bed or other things after all.

Avery let out a small cheer as the dragon flew, a big smile on his lips. Avery was confused as to what Ismadi was concerned about before suddenly finding himself and Ismadi drenched. Avery could’t help but to giggle and laugh as he was soaked. “Bad dragon!” Avery jested, although his tone and the fact that he was still giggling definitely betrayed his words.

As the dragon landed on the bank of the lake, him an Ismadi climbed off before Avery looked a the dragon and it’s rider. “Thank you guys so much! That was fun!”

[rider-ismadi]

“Be good to this one, Ismadi Meksi,” Jyrvir said solemnly even as he lowered himself to the ground as much as his great bulk would allow. Shifting his forelegs to give the princeling a step to dismount from. “whilst he is yet fragile, if his kindness and sweetness is nurtured now, it will become the backbone of a true Queen’s moral compass.”

Izzy, for his part, was wringing out his shirt and mopping his damp hair from his face, not fully aware that Avery might dismount before him. When he does notice, he wraps an arm around the other’s waist to hold him in place a moment. “Hold, your highness. Forgive the presumption but it would be safer if I dismounted first so I might assist you.”

Extracting himself with care, Ismadi maneuvers himself with the power of a man with truly supernatural abilities yet makes it look effortless. Landing smoothly, he reaches up to steady the prince so he can get down safely. “I am pleased you enjoyed our little adventure even if Jyrvir got into a little mischief. But now that we’re here, you lead the way, Prince Avery”

[josexmariaxmixes]

rider-ismadi​:

“I appreciate the compliment, but I would never stain a love affair by giving a relic of the Meisian dynasty. No matter what it might be worth at a jeweler, I assure you, friend, it holds no sentimental value to me at all,” Ismadi shakes his head but pockets it all the same. He does smile a little bit at the suggestion they’re not ready to wed yet. If life had been different, marrying a man as handsome as Lucca would have been an achievement he would have bragged about night and day. But the question about why he was so pensive was a hard one.

“After my family put me in the terrible position to choose between blood or king, and the king doubted my loyalty to him and tried to kill Jyrvir,” Ismadi begins in a tumult, as though these words were like water finding a crack in the dam. “I…I gave up on humanity as a whole. Everyone I had ever loved or believed in had betrayed me. So, we went back to the Children. Trained young people sometimes. Sometimes I was just a hermit.”

“A few years ago, Jyrvir insisted that we return to civilization. That we swear to a king and country and serve as we were meant to.” Ismadi sighs, and looks at the people in the tavern before looking back at Lucca. Earnest eyes hoping against all hope that this person will understand. “I don’t fit in anywhere at all, and I know it. The worst part is how lonely I am and how pathetic that sounds,”

xxx

“Then you should save it for someone who can properly appreciate the value it holds. Whether is in riches or in sentiment. Or to pay for someone’s more intimate company” Lucca concluded. While the Di Stellato house was rich, jewels were something not very often encountered within his family. As such, he had learned to respect the value they held to a much higher regard. And he was pleased at the little smile that tugged the corners of Ismadi’s mouth for a bit, knowing that he had caused it. 

“I remember you were present for part of my training, yes” Lucca added, his brow furrowing at his own memories when he was brightly new among other Children of Daganth. And while whispers of the stories of other riders weren’t uncommon, this might have been the first time he heard Ismadi’s past from him. “Jyrvir sounds like Skeletro… wanting to fulfill our duty with the royals and our land” he said as he gave the other a small smile. “And I wouldn’t call that pathetic. Can anyone blame you for feeling uneasy when coming back to live among humans, who deserted you before? People may come and go but… is their humanity really different?” he added with a sigh, taking another swig of his drink. Yeah… sometimes, it just felt like their fate was to have a veil between them and the other humans. “Is this helping, at least? Drinking and seeing humans go about their normal nights?”

[rider-ismadi]

“If you insist,” Ismadi shrugs and stows the bauble, trying not to think of his father’s conspicuous displays of wealth. Of how very much his family had wished to have Ismadi and Jyrvir dripping with precious and semiprecious stones to show their wealth and power. After what he had seen, lapis lazuli was as precious as granite for all it mattered in time. Only loyalty and friendship could be called precious for how rare both truly were.

“Yes, I was. I recall you because when I first arrived, I was puny compared to some others of my year. Like me, you had spirit,” Ismadi recalls. Some of their brethren had wild notions that physical markers helped determine the future skill of a rider. It was like saying a dappled red horse was faster than a pure roan because the spots made them faster.

“Do you know, it does and it doesn’t?” Izzy chuckles as he takes another sip of his ale. Shaking his head, he looks around and sees two men about to hook up, another pair about to go to blows, and a sad trio where each was in love with the wrong person. “They could be their father’s fathers for all that has changed and that in itself is charming and reassuring that people are still worthy of being saved. But a voice within is screaming what was it all for?”

[montgomeryofdele]

rider-ismadi·:

Ismadi was in Dele as part of the household retinue for the royal family of Ondera, and it was an odd homecoming. Having not set foot on these lands since the day the last Meisian king had attempted to kill him. Although the names and faces had changed in the past 100 years, the endless parade of pomp and circumstance had not. Or the hurry up and wait. A harried butler had, in fact, ordered him to find Prince Montgomery and escort him to the “West Hall,” before fleeing to handle some other crisis. After knocking on a dozen doors, he cracks a smile when he hears the whispered gripe.

“Indeed, your highness, a most cruel and uncivil hour. Only the peasantry are up this early, and have been for hours. The audacity of it all,” Ismadi’s voice drips with sarcasm. But he executed a perfect bow nonetheless. “I have been ordered to bring you to the West Hall. However, given the maze like corridors and hidden stairs, I’m aftaid you’ll have to lead.”

♛

As Monty leaned out a bit more, he could see that it was Ismadi, a dragon rider of House Canolo. Funny, Montgomery hadn’t seen the man in years. Which seemed to be a recurrent happening the past few weeks. Monty wondered why an Onderian dragon rider had been sent to fetch him. And at an hour like this, nonetheless. “You may walk beside me”, Monty answered simply and confidently, slipping back into his chambers momentarily to throw on a ridiculously large black fur coat and some leather boots. He carried with him his golden sword and a small dagger in his sock. One could not be too careful in times like these.

“Alright”, he huffed, slipping through the door and into the hall. “I’m set. Now, where was it you’re taking me again? And why?” 

[rider-ismadi]

“Truthfully, your highness, I was delivering a message for one of House Canalo when your under-butler assumed I was someone to have orders barked at him. I’m here to bring you to a ‘West Hall’; but I could not say why.” Izzy smothered a smile when he saw the other male gathering armaments. He didn’t feel the young Gauthier was wrong for being defensive at a time such as this. Given that gold was such a soft metal, and that the sword was clearly ornamental, he didn’t expect the other would do well in a fight.

But, the young prince was recently fatherless and bereaved. Perhaps he would also be in such a state if his life had turnes out differently. “On my honor as a dragon rider, I will protect you from danger until we can both be assured of your safety today.”

[sassytheoden]

rider-ismadi​:

Ismadi relaxed as he recognized the signs of another dragon rider. He knew this wasn’t precisely what Jyrvir had in mind when he pushed him to reconnect with humanity after their long hiatus. Yet, as Izzy took in the other male, he wondered if he couldn’t argue that this was akin to practicing with a sparring partner before engaging in combat. Maybe bonding with another rider was training for reconnecting with the spawn of the usurpers’ people again.

“Uh, I don’t have a place yet, I guess? I hadn’t considered it,” Izzy scruffs the back of his head, chagrined. He was out of practice. But it seemed as though the other liked the necklace. It had been given to him as a gift of the late, very late, he supposed; queen of Aldonia. “Oh, I’m Ismadi, but my friends call me Izzy.”

xxx

Theoden was happy to see another Dragon Rider here. Even if the humans weren’t to bad around here, it was nice to have someone who knew the same struggles he faced for what he was. Theoden’s legs crossed as he set his face on his hand gently as he regarded the other man before taking another drink of the ale that he had clutched in his hands.

“Well I’d be more than happy to show you around to mine, cutie.” Theoden said with a chuckle before hearing the other man’s words. “Is that what we are? Friends, Izzy?” Theoden asked as his lips quirked up teasingly. “My name is Theoden. Some people call me Theo, but I wouldn’t really call it a nickname.” Theoden explained with a chuckle and a shrug of his shoulders.

[rider-ismadi]

“Well, if you are showing me around to yours, I should hope that we are friends, given how very close we are likely to get while we are there,” Ismadi smiles a little easier, a bit more genuinely. Likely as not, conversing with a dragon rider was just easier. They understood things better.

“I understand, Theo.” Izzy shrugs a little awkwardly, considering how much to say, how much to omit. Deciding to keep it light and hopefully not dampen the mood. “My full name sometimes gets more attention than I like, but Izzy could be anyone. Being anyone else can be a lot less stressful, more pleasant, you know?”

[ofswordandcrown]

Open to: Anyone

Location: A Tavern in Newgarde

If there was one thing one could say about the prince of Eddis, it was that he liked to do things his own way - be damned of what other people thought. Even if it was “unbecoming” of someone that was in the talks to be a future queen, Matai enjoyed going out of his way and doing what he wanted, when he wanted. So after winning his bout in the underground fights back in Eddis, he returned to Dele to celebrate with a drink in a tavern that some of the Delesian nobles often frequented.

“Tonight is a good night for a drink, is it not?” Matai asked, and it was clear that he had already had a couple of glasses - he was looser, not as poised and dignified as he usually carried himself - and he looked over at a nearby patron. “Would you like to join me for a drink? We can toast to the King, may the Gods give him peace… or we can toast to the health of the future King? What say you, friend? Are you going to make me drink alone?”

[rider-ismadi]

“Of all the taverns in all of Aldonia, I stumbled into his,” Ismadi shakes his head, trying to clear it, and sits heavily on the bench opposite his great great grand nephew. After spending decades and working so diligently at avoiding being a mile from any Meksi, here Izzy was, across a table from one.

“Let’s toast to the new one, eh? New kings are better than old ones and far better than dead ones” Izzy slurs as a fresh ale is placed before him. “New ones, everyone is looking at.. at a brighter future. The other kinds, it’s really hard to stop looking at all the shitty things they done did do.”

[rider-ismadi]

Location: A Tavern Anywhere (except Eddis)

Open to: Anyone (except House Canalo) — he knows and accepts you lot as royalty. Everyone else might as well be a sex worker.

Ismadi walked into the tavern dressed in his usual brown riding leathers, but this set was recently cleaned and oiled. He had also bathed earlier and had daubed a bit of myrrh behind his ears and wrists. The scent reminded him of Eddis, of Rockreach, of the family he turned away from. Of course, that was the point. He had lost a bet to Jyrvir and here he was “reconnecting with humans.”

From a belt pouch he pulled an ornate and intricately wrought piece of lapis lazuli jewelry that was over a hundred years old. He put on the table between the other person and himself. “Jyrvir thinks I have forgotten how to forge a human connection and suggested I seek out intimacy with one of my own kind. This is for your time and trouble.”

[rider-ismadi]

“I did not have a detailed strategy,” Ismadi kicks a chair away from the table and sits at it backward, looking at the noble across from him. New money noble, he suspected. One or two generations. Maybe a few more. But not much if the man confused lapis lazuli with a precious gem. But it had dangled from the wrist of a queen, so that did increase the price. Maybe this one had an eye for antiquities. “When last I played this game, you would find a little bauble and dangle it before a pretty little thing. After some conversations, you would be taken somewhere comfortable where you could have your way with them. The more valuable the bauble, the more aggressive you could be.”

“But, if I’m mistaken,” Ismadi holds out his hand for the bracelet and looks ready to rise and leave if he’s wrong.

[nevadaxsaunders]

rider-ismadi​:

Once upon a lifetime ago when he served one nation and one king, he was fond of saying that there was no lonelier breed of man than a spy. Oh the disdain he had heaped upon them when his life was easy and his heart was whole. Three lifetimes ago he could never have imagined having to choose between family and king, and how that choice had no right answers. Now he peddled secrets to these masters of whispers and marveled at how his life had changed.

Sliding off of the green dragon’s back, he stepped loudly on a branch. He avoided Jyrvir’s judgemental gaze but could not avoid the telepathic snark. I can land silently, why not you? Heading towards the firelight, he calls out “may I join you for a time?”

It never scared him to be alone at night, knowing there’s creature that lurk in the woods. I’m sure Nev would probably make a pretty tasty snack but he liked to believe that his music kept them at bay. For the longest time he wanted to make friends with Jyrvir since meeting Ismadi as he was fascinated by the beautiful dragon. It was a far fetch but that didn’t stop him from trying.

“Izzy,” he grinned, turning to look back at the dragon rider before nodding towards Jyrvir. Nev gestured for Ismadi to join him, “What brings you to his side of Aladonia?” He asked curiously.

[rider-ismadi]

With this one I can almost forget that we are engaging in espionage. I like his playing. Jyrvir’s voice sounded in his mind. Curling into a tight ball, he watched Nev with intelligent and knowing eyes. Tell him to sing me a song.

“Troop movements and crop yields,” Ismadi pulls a leather folio of notes out and tosses them to the Master of Whispers. “Not of Ondera. I’ve never broken my oathes. I really don’t give a fig about the rest of them. Oh, Jyrvir wants to hear you sing again. I wouldn’t mind either,”

[wardenbazhrashishorin]

Moving In

Open to anyone. Smut or wholesome, you pick. :) Don't have to match length.

Bazhra was very excited. He had been accepted as a Junior Warden to serve his home kingdom. He watched from the carriage window as the castle grew closer and closer until it was no longer visible as they had arrived. As he stepped out, he immediately called forth the wind to pull a breeze through the area. He reached out magically to the plants nearby and they immediately sat up taller and healthier. Some even bloomed. He smiled to the staff of the castle there to greet him and turned to thank the carriage driver for a lovely ride. He flicked a gold coin towards him and guided it to his hand with some small bursts of wind. He turned back to the staff from the castle and flicked another few coins to the approaching stable hands as he said, "thank you for the assistance, folks. If you can just get the trunks down, I'll make sure they get to my room." As he finished speaking, he pointed a finger down and motioned as if he was stirring something. A small, partially visible, tightly controlled, cyclone of air formed on the ground under his finger. He gestured for the stable hands to set the first trunk down there. They did so, but were surprised to witness the trunk settle onto the cyclone and levitate a foot off the ground. He smiled at the hands once more before turning to approach the Butler waiting to guide him to his new quarters. The levitating trunk started to slowly follow Bazhra, but left another small cyclone of air where the first one was, ready to receive another trunk. He approached the butler and nodded in response to his bow. He followed the butler to the base of a tower reached through a garden in the one of the castle courtyards. Bazhra slipped the butler a gold coin as he shook his hand and thanked him for his assistance. He stepped into the tower. After a quick tour of the tower, Bazhra returned to the entry chamber of the tower and directed the lazy train of trunks to various floors of the tower based on what they contained. He, with a few hand motions and whispered words, started adjusting the room to his likings. Plants were sprouting in bunches in the corners of the room. The furniture started to shift and reshape into more natural forms. The chairs and couch grew larger and, instead of fabric to cushion the seat, they became filled with the softest springiest moss. Bazhra grabbed a glass from a nearby serving table and took a seat. He plucked a few berries from the nearest plant and dropped them in the glass as it slowly filled with water from seemingly nowhere. He took a decent pull before setting the glass aside to examine the most recent trunk to arrive. He opened it and began to pull art and decorations from it to decorate the current room. The door to his tower was open for any visitors and the remaining few trunks that were slowly trundling along. He was hopping to use the sight of the trunks to draw visitors to himself. Easiest way to draw attention and meet new people was with a show.

[rider-ismadi]

For a man who had spent most of his time with a dragon, Ismadi watched with child-like wonder at the magic at work around him. Every trick and each new expression of magic brought new life to a face that had been so grim. If it had been Bazhra’s goal to distract the dragon rider from his sadness, he had succeeded with excellence.

At last, someone recognizes all the heavy lifting I do, Jyrvir smiles a Cheshire cat smile in the courtyard below. Tell the handsome warden that he has my thanks for his kind words. He has no idea the scrawny mess you were when I hatched.

“Jyrvir extends his thanks for your kind words; oh, what’s that? Jyrvir also bids me say he would be lost without me. The big softie,” Ismadi smirks at the rude noise that Jyrvir makes, even if he believes they’re true. Accepting the teacup, he holds it up, closes his eyes, and inhales the nutty aroma. “When I was a child, my mother drank oolong tea so much that I’ve come to identify it with home.”

“That’s why I’m here,” Izzy begins as he looks up, taking a long sip of the tea. And then another. Perhaps it was a trick of the mind or the magic, but it tasted just like his mother’s oolong. An impossibility since the lone slope of the mountain it grew on had been destroyed during the war a hundred years ago. Shaking off the nostalgia, Izzy continues. “my mother’s birthday. I visited his crypt earlier and spent some time remembering happier days. I’ve not been back here since… the war started. Ended. I had a lot of missed birthdays to make up for.”

“I appreciate your hospitality. I expect you don’t know who I was, or else things might not be so cordial,” Izzy confides, “but all the same this means a great deal to me. When I finish, I will leave before I outstay my welcome.”