Waking the Demon (Kitath's Maiden Flight!)

[Spiffy]

(Anyone feel free to throw your dragums into this, or even NPCs if you have none, everyone is welcome. Only thing is that I'm out friday evening/saturday so I'll have to give my first reply tomorrow morning. Don't worry if you missed out, just throw them in like they were there from the start ;) )

There's not much longer
So don't try to fight
Your bodies weakening
Walk to the light...

Shea’d been watching Kitath for almost a sevenday now. The signs were becoming unmistakeable: a brightness of hide, a shortness of temper, and her being ever so slightly nicer than normal to the males around her. It was not something that Sh’lon would normally notice, continuing on in his life of mild naivety, except for the fact that he’d been told to watch for this, he and the other Weyrling greenriders. They were certainly old enough now, he knew that not only from his lessons with L’vey but also from his years as a beastcrafters apprentice, few though they were. He knew enough to recognise a creature in heat.

He was watching her now, slumbering in her tent, under the protection from the winter sun. She’d been like that for a good few candlemarks now, deeply asleep, tail fork twitching spasmodically as if she were deep in some dream. Dreams of what he could only guess at. Did dragons even dream? He couldn’t see why not, even canines dreamed, he’d seen it often enough. His mind rambled on like this for the duration of her sleep, the piece of harness he’d been cleaning since he’d started far from finished, forgotten as his mind raced over the prospect of what was to come, whether it would be this time of if it were just his mind making him paranoid, again.

In fact so deep in thought was he that he didn’t even notice Kitath’s tail suddenly still, nor her eyelids snap open, all at the same time, the faceted centres writhing in deep red. Only when her roiling emotion hit him like a slap in the face did he finally realise what was going on. Yes. It was happening, now.

Oh shells..

She was almost up and out of her tent by the time her shocked rider made it to his feet. “Kitath! What... wait!” he fumbled, stumbling, his balance weirdly off. She turned to look at him for a second, and Sh’lon was struck by the unfamiliar colour in her eyes. He’d never seen her this angry before. Then with a shriek like a banshee, turned away from her rider with one simple word as she launched herself into the air: No.

Shea was struck by her tone, but he didn’t have long to reel from it. Shit. Shit shit shit... A flight meant only one thing for a rider. Quickly he stumbled to the curtain of his weyr, once permanently open in the heat, and hurriedly drew it across. Can’t have anyone peeking now, could he? he thought almost drunkenly.

Kitath ignored her rider, not caring today for his weak little objections. She could feel the anger inside of herself, even as it bubbled over and out through their mind-link. She did not know why she felt so angry, but this day she didn’t care. She felt not confusion, not like her little rider on the ground behind her, instead she felt liberated, like a freedom she’d never felt before. Free from cares, free from the restrictions and rules placed on everyone at Wardens, dragon or no, free from...

Other dragons? She paused for a second. Where were they, did they not want to join her? She snarled to their air. Where were they, she wanted them to join her! To prove themselves to her, for she would only take the best...

Where are you all! Hiding like cowards? she cried out to all, voice cracking like a whip. Come, my males, and show Kitath your worth! she called finally, streaking off over the prison proper as she finally spied her followers taking to the air.

...Breathe for me
Don't wake me from this slumber
Stay with me
Possession taking over

[nozomi]

Having a hot day off was perhaps the single best part of being at Warden's. The hours sucked, the tasks grueling, freetime nonexistant due to constant training and vigilance, but those rare days where there was no training, no obligations, no nothing, well, T'di just loved those. T'di reclined in his weyr the day of Kitath's maiden Flight, stretched out on his sleeping area as any feline would. Tunic off, sweating like a Duster in detox, he never the less had a smile on his face, and a meatroll in his hand. Being kind to kitchenstaff always paid off. Even his feet were bare, legs dangling off the sides of the cot, and leaving the man only in his britches.

T'di loved his life, on days like these.

Even Mordanth enjoyed the day, albeit in a totally different manner than His: the blue pranced along the waters edge of the beach, frolicking as one might with Semith. Mordanth flapped his wings at random intervals, cooling himself and crooning with a hatchlings delight.

Then -

Mordanth's head shot up, spotting Kitath even before she screamed for them, the fainest glimmer of green in the sky. Oh, there were patrols, of course, but - Kitath shrieked, and Modant clawed himself from the waters. So few greens at Warden's, even if she disliked him, Mordanth still wanted her attention.

Not bothering to shake himself semi-dry, Mordanth launched himself after the enraged female. So what if he wasn't as big as the other boys? He had style. Mordanth streaked towards Kitath, throwing himself into a tight spin, twirling himself like a top after her. Maybe she didn't like acrobatics in the air. Maybe she thought him stupid. Flights were fun, no matter what (although, of course, he preferred to win).

FeirceKitath~ Oh, he hand hunger in his mindvoice. Oh yes.

For his part in this, T'di sat straight up in his cot, round face flushed with Mordanth and his chase. He groaned, shoveling the meatroll into his mouth even as he stood up. Tunic, on, tunic had to be on, showing up half naked would be horrible, especially if he lost.

Kitath, the one with the sweet kid that drew pictures and worried about how to color them. T'di despised this part, the bedding of friends or people he barely knew. The random ones were good. Mordanth, she hates you. Her rider is that boy. He said it somewhat desperately, but not really, because the tunic was on and T'di all but flying out of his weyr as well.

Creepy vulture indeed - he hated that part too. It didn't stop him from walking there anyway, bare feet instantly following the path. He'd feel guilty for being so quick about it later, no matter the outcome, and had enough of a mind still active to not try and enter. He crouched outside, forehead to his knees, and muttered. "Threadblighted sharding stupid blue, fuck."

Mordanth, of course, did not answer. T'di stayed where he was, fingers in his hair. Flights and resulting sex didn't bother him - just being friendly with the riders beforehand did. Bah.

[giftwrapped]

Lanakirene, darling.

"Not now, Kith."

La didn't even look up from the small pan where she was simmering a handful of herbs in oil. Her fussy brown firelizard Jackass was growing at a surprising rate, and as resilient as firelizards could be, the brown's itchy hide was making him more and more irritating, both to his owner and to his bronze "brother," Trouble. So La was solving the problem with a specialized oil that got the job done and had the bonus side-effect of calming the nasty little thing. Verbena was a wonderful herb.

Lanakirene, Kith repeated, ducking down so he could thrust his muzzle in through the window of the healer's hut. I have something important to say.

Sighing theatrically, La turned to look at the blue with exasperation, leaving her infusion momentarily unattended to glare at Kith. He rumbled quietly, snapping his teeth and snuffling cheerily at his rider, and it was only then that Lanakirene realized that the blue's cheerful green eyes were whirling with pale violet. "...Oh, Faranth," she sighed. They had avoided Flights initially, La keeping Kith grounded until she learned the landscape of relationships and whose dragons flew whom at which times. But Kith clearly had his heart set on this flight. "Which is it, Kith?"

A green. Kitath, I believe. Maiden flight.

And that explained it. Weyrlings Rising. No set relationships. and Kith wanted in on the batch of greens. La sighed. "All right, you. Go on."

And Kith bugled happily, withdrawing his head from the hut and launching himself into the sky. There was at least one other dragon, a blue that he immediately recognized as the Weyrleader, taking after Kitath, and for a moment, Kith faltered. But this wasn't Semith, it was a virgin green, and Mordanth had no claims. Kith arched his wings with a merry trill, arcing off after Kitath as quickly as his smaller span would allow. Kitath, my dear! You fly well already!

Flatterer.

Shaking her head, Lanakirene shut off the small burner that kept the oil simmering, putting a cover over the earthenware pot and glaring at the brown and bronze firelizard who perked up when she went into action. "Neither of you," she said slowly, "will touch that. Or I will skin you both. I mean it," she snapped, glaring darkly as the large bronze darted his head toward the pot. Trouble withdrew with a snort, glancing pointedly away from the pot as if he was never interested. And with that, La stood up, running a hand through her hair and reaching for her cane. For a moment, she hesitated, but then she withdrew the hand and turned, strolling out of the hut.

She had no idea where the rider would be, and frankly, La wasn't particularly interested for the most part. She'd get there eventually, no doubt. For the time-being she was mostly-unaffected by the lust simmering in Kith; turns of practice with the blue chasing anything that rose helped with the distance between herself and the dragon. And she fully intended to keep herself at bay until she saw the rider. If it was a kid, well. She'd find someone else, even if Kith won. She wasn't tasteless or unscrupulous.

Unlike a certain someone.

Pah!

[lithle]

((Poor Sh'en is an NPC. He's mine from elsewhere and he will not be staying. I'm having him join the fun, but if possible, you can exclude him from potential winners.))

Sh'en was a message rider, spending his day off at Warden's because, well, that was where he'd been where his day off hit. Sh'en tended to sleep wherever he landed and rest wherever he could. It was how Mauhnith liked things and Sh'en, well Sh'en agreed with Mauhnith. Of course he did. He only messed things up when he didn't. Mauhnith said, we'll rest here. And they did.

Now, they were resting, or at least they had been, Sh'en slumbering restlessly against his dragon's side. The bed in the hut they'd offered had looked comfortable but Mauhnith had quickly made it clear that such an idea was unacceptable. And he was right, of course. Sh'en would only do something stupid, sleeping in a hut without anyone to look after him.

Wake, Mine. Mauhnith's mindvoice was low and warm, like some impossibly soft fur on a cold winter's day.

Sh'en was awake in an instant, snapped to attention and glancing about with nervous urgency. Mauhnith? What is it? He was already standing, running his fingers through his hair and pulling it back in a runnerstail. Mauhnith hated it when he was messy.

Flight. The bronze purred the word and Sh'en felt an echo of his dragon's lust stirring in himself. It was uncomfortable, unexpected. The bronze almost never chased.

"But... why? I mean, we don't even know anyone here." Wrong thing to do. He knew it the moment he spoke.

Are you questioning me? Acid anger washed out lust and Mauhnith's eyes whirled violet and red in equal measures.

"No! I just--"

You never let me do anything. I look after you. I make excuses for you. Every time you mess up, who cleans up after you?

Sh'en was cowering from the huge beast at this point and Mauhnith was huge, even for a bronze, big and broad winged for long flights. His mouth was open as if to respond, but no words came out.

And I want to do one little thing. One little piece of happiness. But no. Have to babysit Sh'en. Fine. Forget it.

"No!" He'd found something of himself at least. Stuttering and fragile, but still. Oh, how he loved Mauhnith. Please. Go. I didn't mean it. I'm sorry.

At that, the great Bronze launched himself into the air, wings beating as he gained altitude. Already, two blues were in pursuit and it was those that Mauhnith addressed first.

Hope you don't mind me joining, friends. He said, in that warm, gracious tone. Such a lovely day to fly.

And then, at last addressing Kitath, Lady, you have called and I am here.

Sh'en, meanwhile, slunk toward where the green's rider was quartered. He was a young man, in his mid-twenties and utterly unassuming in appearance. About the only thing significant about him was his whipped dog posture, his very attempt not to appear noticeable his only noticeable feature.

[Spiffy]

Kitath made a point of ignoring the chasers as they joined. Let them think she cared not for them. Let them think they were worthless in her eyes.

But even so, she gave them a fleeting sidelong glance as she banked to the side, identifying the chasers. Two blues. She knew both their names, of course. Mordanth, he was the Weyrleader's blue. Kitath had talked to him, once, not for long. At the time, she had been annoyed with him. He'd been annoying her she was trying to sleep, ad she hadn't wanted him to talk to her. But now, this time was different. She felt that. She had called and he had come! As he rightly should. The green liked that. She called, they came, flocking to her like so many crazed wherries. It was a good feeling, one she liked, one she didn't get often, being a green and having little or no command. But this was Kitath. She would have that command.

She flew upward sharply, banking to the left as she did so. There was Kith. He was the healer. She did not know him, but others had spoken of him. Charming, they said. Indeed, he had said something nice to her already. She liked that, and crooned enticingly back to him. She was about to turn again, toward him when another voice called to her.

Who? Stranger, she did not know him! Who was this satin-toned chaser whom she did not know. She barrelled, inverting her flight and plummeting downward to the side, stealing a glance as she did so. A bronze! And a rather gorgeously large one at that. But could he keep up with her?!

Powering up again, the green climbed almost vertical, before entering a corkscrew that lead her and her chasers back around, as she fell toward the bronze, screaming challenge. Lets see what he made of this! At the last moment, as he turned, she tilted to the side, falling past him and away. She could do that, she was a green, he hadn't a hope against her on manoeuvrability. She glanced back, to see the progress of her other chasers. They were both blues, they should be able to keep up with her. She trilled to them all, calling them back to her. Don't give up yet, Kitath still wants you.


Sh'lon was reeling, dizzy with the half images that plagued him. One minute he was in his tent, grounded, and then he was in the sky, at dizzying heights. He couldn't think, didn't know where he was. Briefly, he felt his bed under him, taking short comfort in the familiarity, before Kitath's anger took him again. Stranger, she did not know him! He had a minute to register a bronze in her sights before gravity and inverted, his stomach seeming to follow. Oooerrrgh. Then, as Kitath stole a glance behind her, he finally recognised one of the chasers.

"Mordanth!" he gasped, shocked. That, that was the Weyrleader's blue! Agh shit, shells and shards... he thought, struggling to look around. Was T'di here? He couldn't see him. Where were they? Then Kitath took him back from himself, his last thought that his tent was a mess...

[tuathade]

((Joining with an NPC~))

It was J'ne's day off. No one was going to wreck that. Come flood, fire, or mass breakout, she and Normandith were going to nap by the river. The tall, striking brownrider sprawled out on the bank, long legs stretched out in front of her, arms folded behind her head as she leaned back against her dragon's foreleg. Aaahhh. This was the life.

J'ne?

"Mmm?" If she'd bothered to open her eyes and look, she would have seen Normandith's eyes beginning to swirl with traces of deep violet.

Kitath Rises, remarked the brown. His tone was measured as always, calm as if he were observing an interesting fish in the river, not betraying the intensity of his want. But J'ne could feel it now, the hot impatient thrum of a young male desperately wanting to chase. His foreleg hadn't so much as twitched, not wishing to disturb his rider... but his head was lifted now, arched back in an S-shape as bright purple eyes watched two blues and a bronze pursue a green across the sky.

J'ne grinned cheekily up at her dragon, then gave him an affectionate smack on the shoulder. "Go on, then! What are you waiting for? You're late to the party already!"

He reluctantly tore his eyes off the sky, blinking startled at his rider. But I thought today was our rest-day? You said, come flood or fire-

"Didn't include Flight in that list," she shot back. "Go, Normandith. Go wild." With the Weyrling class finally coming of age, more greens would be rising soon. Maybe her polite, scrupulous, by-the-book brown would finally relax and live a little if she started encouraging him to chase a couple.

He needed no further encouragement. With a bugle, he unfurled his wings and lifted into the air. Normandith was a memorable dragon: sandy-pale brown on his back, dark chocolate below, with a sharp line of contrast on his sides where the two colors met. He was small for his color, but powerfully built, and against a green his size would be more a benefit than a hindrance. Especially with two blues already in pursuit. Where you lead, I follow, he called to the green, taking up a position at a respectable distance from those already chasing. Normandith was not a dragon who would jostle or become aggressive with his competition.

For the rider's part, J'ne let her feet take her wherever they would, losing herself willingly in the thrill of a chase. The green's rider would likely be too young for her; Normandith was a young dragon himself, but she had Impressed late. She had no interest in an inexperienced partner, whether male or female. Maybe she could pounce one of the riders of the other pursuing males... A little bit unorthodox, but pretty much everything J'ne did was a little unorthodox - even honorizing her name. She'd stopped worrying about it after day one.

[giftwrapped]

Oh, she was just stunning. Quick little thing, and while Kith caught up with her soon enough, he was nonetheless impressed by Kitath's acrobatics. Particularly when a bronze (a stranger bronze? He didn't recognize the newcomer) arrived on the scene and was promptly subjected to a surprising aerial display. Kith, though he gave a short bugle of greeting to the stranger, kept focused on Kitath. He was no youngling, but he lacked the stamina of even a large green, and so instead of fiercely pursuing Kitath through each of her maneuvers, he made quick, thoughtful adjustments.

He wished, in some sense, that he remembered more of the wing drills to which he and Lanakirene were subjected as weyrlings. He spent so much time with dragons on the ground that some of the intricacies of group flight were lost on him, and his predictions were not quite so accurate as he would have liked. But he did well enough, staying near enough the green that when she breezed past and trilled back to Mordanth and him, he felt the draft from her wingbeats. He gave a merry whistle in response.

Thrilling, Kitath, just thrilling!

And then another bugle alerted him to the presence of yet another challenger. Ah, well done! There were now blues, a bronze, and a brown following the young green. And what's more, the prestige attached to the dragons! Both blues were of quite respectable rank, the bronze was a bronze, and even the brown, young as he was, seemed a handsome catch, and respectable himself.

The maiden has attracted a handsome parcel! he called out cheerily, bugling back to the brown. Funny fellow, staying back. But to each his own. Perhaps he would win. Kith favoured himself heavily, regardless.

On the ground, Lanakirene was finally beginning to feel the sharp thrum of mating lust in a way that she couldn't ignore. Occasional flashes of vibrant green hide in her mind were met with appreciation before La remembered that she had two legs rather than four, no wings, and was attracted to women, rather than dragons.

Shardit, Kith.

Her feet had managed, through no effort on Lanakirene's part, to find Sh'lon's weyr all on their own, or at least that's what La judged when she caught sight of...was that the Weyrleader? Pfffffffff oh Faranth, this was a prestigious flight indeed. "Weyrleader," she said, and had the presence of mind to wrinkle her nose at the fact that her breath hitched in her throat. But she supposed it could be forgiven. A dragon's ferocious desire to screw something was kind of all-encompassing.

[nozomi]

A corkscrew. A corkscrew.

In that moment, Mordanth fell absolutely and utterly in love with the screaming, twisting, fierce little green. He bugled as loud as the chase would allow him to, doubling back in towards her. Give up? Not on his riders life! The mottled blue did his own version of a corkscrew, a quick twist of his frame followed by a straight burst of speed towards the courting maiden.

I have no words for your agility, PrettyKitath! You are a lovely sigh indeed! Mordanth always sucked at the sweet talk; it came out awkward compared to those such as Kith, a rush of thought to thought-speech with much filter in between. His said, I don't understand how you catch them, 'ordanth, you aren't a smooth talker.

But he was fast, and liked to show off. Flights, after all, were meant to be fun, fill the female with power and the males with a competitive drive that benefitted all. That's what T'di said, its why His usually encouraged him to Fly.

Not this time, not with Kitath. T'di shoved himself to his feet with Sh'lon's gasp of his name, seconds before, yes, he was human, and there was a very human rider saying his dragons name. So he knew. That was fine. T'di wanted him to (why?).

"Greenrider," he said, louder then intended. T'di's face remained flushed, even as he breathed deep. The Weyrleader lurched closer to the enterance of the weyr, stopped only with La talking to him instead. He spun on his heel, one hand knotting up once again in his hair. "-Master Dragonhealer?"

Shards and fucking, fucking shells, how awkward was the crack to his voice at seeing another person. T'di always was easy to... provoke, in these situation. He stole a glance back to the weyr, shifting from foot to foot, and all but twitching. The slinking Bronzerider attracted little attention (he did not talk!), but La, and the entryway, they did.

"I hate this part. The before. The uncertainty." The blathering, it always happened. He talked. And talked. "The - this."

T'di waved his hands, wet with lips. Flashes of wind against face, the scent of clouds and heat, the lust ripping through him, and, fuck, corkscrews he loved them, wanted more of them and her and -

"I re-really hate this blighted part."

[lithle]

Of those following so far, Mauhnith was the largest. Consequently, he was also the slowest. There were fast bronzes. There were even agile bronzes. But Mauhnith was neither of these things. Mauhnith could fly long. He could fly high. He could carry heavy things. But he would never be able to pull off so neat a corkscrewing dive as Kitath managed as she dove, spinning, toward him.

He could, however, admire such agility. She was so fierce, so confident. Mauhnith, not usually a fan of such traits could find himself admiring them here, while he was caught in flight lust with no thought for future, no plan to twist or take or keep. He only wanted to fly, wanted to chase, wanted to be part of this. Even if he were to fail to catch her, he would have the thrill of these moments, of her green hide flashing in the air, flashing and spinning with ferocious grace.

He pulled out of her path as she dove toward him, recovering as quickly as he might, but not nearly so quickly as a smaller dragon might. For a moment, he hung in the air, flapping his wings as he re-oriented himself before he once again began to chase, trailing now, but he could only have expected that. Usually a creature of honeyed words and insinuations, he said nothing, giving himself fully over to pursuit, thinking only of catching, of Kitath's sleek, slender form ahead of him.

Sh'en was as much Mauhnith as he was himself as he approached where the others stood. Perhaps that was for the best. Certainly, his posture improved somewhat, he walked with an easy lope instead of his usual hunched, wary posture. Sh'en generally shuffled but Mauhnith strode and this hybrid was suspended somewhere between the two. His mind was full of wings, of want. It left little room for him, less even than perhaps normal, as there was so little of him, anyway.

He stood hanging back, near the green rider's tent. It was the Sh'en in him that kept him from approaching closer. But it was overhearing the conversation that snapped him briefly back to himself entirely.

Weyrleader?

Master Dragonhealer?

Oh, what had Mauhnith gotten him into?

That unworthy thought sent him spiraling back toward guilt, and guilt, so deeply tied to his bond with Mauhnith, sent him away from himself again, Mauhnith's joy and lust utterly dominating.

[Spiffy]

Kitath was pleased to see her two blues follow her through her twists and turns, but each in their own different ways; Kith with his efficient, smooth turns and Mordanth with enthusiasm and grace. He was enjoying it, as she was. Not that the others weren't, but they were keeping it more under wraps. Oddly enough she found it quite refreshing, even though she'd detested it the last time they'd met. But that was different, this time she wanted the company.

She trilled in delight at their complements. Ohhhh she liked that, deserving as she was. She tucked her wings and barrel-rolled, just for show, flicking her tail at them playfully. Kith too, she liked. He was more eloquent than Mordanth, which was good. And he was rather good looking, too. She liked them both.

The bronze, sadly, had puled up, and was now trailing behind. She mentally tutted to herself, her school-mistress side coming back into play, seemingly cast aside for the flight. Not good enough.

And he hadn't complemented her superior abilities.

Doing so he may have redeemed himself, but he didn't, so she ignored him, lagging at the back as he was it wasn't difficult.

But as she pulled out of the barrel her right wing twinged, as if scolding her for the manoeuvre. And then again, with the next upbeat. Soon the left wing joined in. What was this? Was she tiring? She was! She glanced behind her uncertainly, just in time for Kith's smooth baritone to again enter her thoughts, and she looked more closely. Another chaser, and a brown! She recognised him, yet he was not familiar. A member of the watch, she had never had any closer encounter or prior knowledge of him. He was late, of course. That wasn't a good start for him. His simple joining speech did little to ease that slight. She hissed, swinging his way as he seemed not to stray any closer than the edge of their little procession. What was he, afraid? She needed no weaklings, no cowards, no apathetics.


"-eenrider?" The sound called Sh'lon back to himself for a second. That was him right, he was a green? No, he rode a green, was... it mattered little. He peered at the entrance to his tent, searching for the owner of the voice. But... that was not T'di, that he could see, even with images of blue, brown and bronze dragons swimming across his vision. A woman? He didn't recognise her at all, though something about her seemed... older.


The ache in Kitath's wings was getting to the point where she could no longer ignore it. She would have to choose, and soon. She looked back at her pursuers. Kith, Mordanth, Normandith (she remembered his name at last) and the bronze, who's name she didn't know at all. Kith had impressed her well throughout the flight, but he was so small! Kitath was not a small green by any standards, already the size of a large green and not yet full grown, and she was already larger than the blue. Would he be able to carry her as she needed him to?

The mystery bronze, on the other hand, he would be able to carry her far, Normandith also, but neither had done much to otherwise impress her so far. That left Mordanth. He too was small, but he was still bigger than she, and she liked him much so far.

She howled, and then began to power directly upward, as vertical as she could make it. The indecision! But she had to choose! She kept this up as long as she could bear to, her wings now on fire, before folding them into her sides and plummeting downward. Toward her chasers. Toward the two blues. At the last possible moment to avoid a possibly dangerous impact, she flared her wings, turning even as she slowed, shrieking, a sound of lust and desire even as her mindvoce called also: Mordanth!


"Mordanth!" the call echoed from Sh'lon's tent even as Kitath chose her suitor, even as he gasped T'di's name. He ripped aside the sheets he'd somehow become entangled in, staggering for the doorway, and the waiting arms of his prize...


(OOC: ok, fade to black for me here. Fancy a morning after post, or shall we just leave it as an awkward parting? >.>)

[nozomi]

(If you're up for a morning after post, sure! I like playing T'di. :9 If you wanna, I'll just edit it in here.)

[Spiffy]

XD If you like, i'm not fussed where it goes