NPC Bronze Mordesk & Mordecai
Darkness, broken only by the moonlight and a half-covered glow, filled the room. It was a quiet darkness, subtle and perfect, broken only by the scritch of a pen on a vellum sheet. An unobtrusive-looking young man was working quietly at his desk, his unassuming figure cloaked in the same shadows that filled the room. The sun had long-since set; it was much later than most preferred to do their business. Yet he was not finishing some project that had started earlier in the day. For him, the time to be wakeful was just beginning. He was, in actuality, taking care of some quick writing before he started his 'day,' as it were.
Footsteps made themselves heard softly from somewhere behind him, growing steadily closer. The man did not lift his head as the muscular wher padded into his room, emerging from the shadows like a ghost. He continued to work, though he felt impatience and irritation, and another feeling he recognized as the beginnings of Runlust, coming from the creature behind him. Only when a low snarl rumbled from the beast's throat, commanding his attention, did the man straighten from his work and turn to look at his closest companion.Queen runs tonight,
the sun-touched wher said gruffly, rustling wings that flashed and glowed in the weak light. Though the dim glow emenating from the half-shaded light-source was just barely enough for his handler to read by, the bronze squinted slightly at its' intensity. He stared mutely at the man who still sat before him, waiting for the figure to acknowledge his announcement. Mordesk would not Chase without first telling his Mordecai.
The man in question turned fully around and folded his hands together, resting his chin on them as he stared down the wher with a gaze that made most people shy away with unease. The bronze simply stared back, his blue eyes darkening with whorls of indigo and violet. "Do you have to run?" he asked coldly.Yes.
"Will anything I say stop you?"No.
"Which queen?" The young man let out a bad-tempered sigh and asked the question that would determine the course of the entire night.Iolite Talosk. Mordesk goes now.
True to his word, the bronze turned and was gone with speed that was unexpected from such a large animal. Mordecai just put his head in his hands and cursed the inconvenience of it all. Blasted wher. He was unbelievably useful, and the only companion that the man could stand, but handling a wher wasn't all sunshine and sharding roses. That great oaf would
chase when it struck his fancy, and it would
disrupt his handler's entire night. Already he could feel the first traces of lust spreading through his system like a poison. Some kind of poison that was designed to keep a person from getting any sharding work done.
With great reluctance, the slender man rose to his feet and smoothed imaginary wrinkles out of his clothes. Delicate fingers brushed over limp strands of soft black hair, making sure that he looked neat and presentable. Mordecai never left his room without first making sure everything from his hair to his shoes was in order. He never had been, and was never going to be an intimidating individual. Slight of build and several inches shy of six feet, only his stiff, business-like manner prevented the 28 year-old from looking like some gangly wherling. But he could be trim, and he could be tasteful.
And he could also be frightening, but that was another matter entirely.
Mordecai strode out of his room and closed the door behind him. He would finish his work when he returned. Making his way down the corridors of the Weyr, Runlust speeding his pulse under the calm facade, the bronzehandler approached the room of Talosk's handler and pricked his ears as the sound of frantic violin music reached them. He hadn't known that Talon played. What a pleasant and interesting surprise. Less pleasant, but just as interesting, was the sight of another wherhandler standing outside the man's door, apparently baffled as to how to get in. Mordecai tried the door and found it jammed, apparently by some object on the inside. He assumed that the man playing that beautiful, yet frenzied music within had blocked it to prevent the entry of other wherhandlers.
He also suspected that the man would be having his plans foiled, because Mordecai did not intend to spend an uncomfortable Run locked out of his potential lover's room.
Glancing at his apparently dimwitted companion with disdain, the bronzehandler calmly pushed up the sleeves of his crisp white shirt, and examined the door briefly. It opened inwards. Good. Taking no heed of the dullard standing nearby, Mordecai backed up exactly three paces, each step measured like those in a dance. Then, he lunged forward with such startling speed and intent that for a second he seemed a different person altogether. His shoulder impacted the wooden door with such force that he thought perhaps he had broken it, sending jarring force shuddering through him. A loud squeal and a crash broke through the furious sound of Talon's violin as Mordecai came flying through his door, having thoroughly shoved the wooden object away from the portal in his headlong charge. He small man staggered a few steps into the room before he gained his balance, and finally stopped a short distance from where Talon sat. Straightening, he then brushed splinters and dust from his rumpled clothing and straightened his attire with utter calm, for all the world as if he had simply nudged open the door and strolled in.
Outside on the moonlit sands beyond the Weyr, the large bronze ran steadily towards the female that he sought, unconcerned with such appearances as his master seemed occupied with. Taught muscles rippled under a hide that gleamed with seemingly every shade of bronze under the stars, from pale near-white and metallic yellow to cinnamon and russet red. Mordesk flashed past the silvered waters of the ocean and arrowed unerringly towards that moving spot of shadow on the horizon, the one that called to his very essence and compelled him to Chase.
Violet eyes, framed by twin marks like thorns, whirled and flamed with lust as the handled wher turned to follow his prize towards the forest. Only two browns and a blue had arrived so far to chase the sensual beauty that beckoned him onward so far, but he did not waste time assessing them. Such beasts were unfit to walk under the same stars as this dark queen! But they would see that soon enough. He did not waste his attentions on them, but rather focused on the the lithe temptress that had called him here.Mordesk is strong,
the bronze rumbled, his words quiet, yet powerful for all of their lack of volume. Mordesk is brave. Mordesk cares not for surprise in Weyr. Mordesk waits for Talosk's surprise, no other's. That only surprise that matters.