The end of the world as we know it.

[nozomi]

Jessan felt it, as soon as that damned dragon lifted from the ground. Heat swamped her, warm twists of want immediately curling in her breasts, her lips, her abdomen. Everything tingled, and her eyes glazed, if only for a moment. It was when she made a noise into her pillow that the Mindhealer managed to snap herself into wakefulness. She had no bondmate, not even a flit to think of - the Flightlust shouldn't be so much. Jessan snapped her eyes open against her pillow and shoved herself up, taking a few seconds to stare dumbly down at the cloth under her.

Some of the fog lifted with her abrupt waking. Jessan curled her fingers tight into her bedsheets and wrenched herself from the bed. Her legs shook, almost gave out, and she steadied herself with one hand grabbing hold of her bedframe. The Mindhealer sucked in a breath, eyes closing briefly before she concentrated on the noises around her.

Nothing. Silence. Then - I'm sorry. I am no gold, by I'll try. - Something in the air crackled to life, and Jessan's already rapid heartbeat sped up even further. She pulled her hair back, away from her face and up into the messiest bun in the history of Pern. From the huts around her, Jessan heard noises - people - and the beats of dragon wings. Her heart slammed against her ribs in an echo of it.

Now. The thought came unbidden, and, even creepier, in Machi's flat, nasal voice. Jessan brushed it from her mind; her brother was the last thing she wanted-- Flashes of those she may have wanted - ArkadyJiruynoKaydianwhat? - flew through her mind, all of them quickly brushed to the side. Too many things to be done, too many words to be said. Prisoners to let out.

Jessan yanked on the first dress she came across, pulling on as many socks as she could before pulling on her boots. Jessan swept up her heavy side bag, thick with weapons to be distributed, and a pitifully small amount of food. She hooked it over her shoulder, and left the hut for the last time.

The guards knew - they had to. The moment one of her successful bribes spotted her and the bag, his passion flushed face slackened. He shifted away from her, though he stilled when Jessan slid closer.

"Remember, Jordyn," the Mindhealer breathed, and kissed his throat because it trembled under her lips. "A single word of this, and you get no marks, and I start looking at that little friend of yours. I'm sure you wouldn't want that."

She patted her patients hip, smiling. His eyes closed.

"Good boy. Now, go tell the others to go and have a tumble or something. Tell them I beat you, or anything interesting. Just go." Her hand slid one last time down to his pocket. With a jingle, those fateful keys came up. Jessan waved her hand, and the cowardly guard bolted. Somewhere, she felt guilt for using his trust against him. Jessan wouldn't really have gone and killed the blacksmith in cold blood. Jessan had standards, shardit.

Still, he believed her, and that was all that mattered.

Guards were distracted, or gone. The few that weren't off with someone were avoided easily enough, their eyes distant, or muttering something to their others. After all, Flight lust was Flightlust! People did what they did. Jessans goal, despite her fluffy mind? Solitary.

All her favorite men lived in solitary.

Jessan bustled her way through, past the Harper with nary a glance, because Machi sat in the very last cell in the back, cloistered away. He never talked anyway. Machi came first.

She smiled at him, all teeth and gums, her face flushed with triumph and the morning.

"Little brother." Jessan opened the door, and then her arms. Inside the cell, Machi wavered only for a few seconds.

He flung himself at the woman, wiry arms tight around her and his face pressed against her throat in the way of a child. "Natasa." is all he said, voice thick, and wet.

"Shh, baby. Shh. This later." Jessage rubbed her cheek to his matted hair, her hands rubbing soothing circles into his back. "Machi. Machi, this later. You know why I came for you first." A dagger came from her bag, and pressed into his hand. Jessan leaned back, still smiling. "I remember, darling. We're going to cause a little havoc, aren't we, dear?"

Slowly, he nodded, his face set once more in it's usual stone-expression. She stroked his cheek, ignoring the twitch of something in her brain that said to stop it and go.

"Good boy. Now go, and meet where we agreed." Machi moved away, and Jessan flicked her hand. "Don't forget the runners, dear. We're going to need them."

The criminal seemed not to hear her, as all but flew down the hallway. Cause havoc indeed.

...

"Oh, Arkady~" Jessan said from down the corridor, her voice sing-song. One could not really say a woman in thick leather boots and too covering clothing 'pranced', but Jessan did her best. She hummed before the door clicked open, and the usually serene Mindhealer grinned into the solitary cell. She collapsed against the doorframe once it swung open, cheeks flushed, eyes bright. She licked her lips, that grin widening all the more.

"I do hope you remember our first little discussion, dear." Jessan raised her chin a notch, eyes hooding. "Because if you want to leave, now if going to be the time. Immediately."

Their one chance of escape, and she was thinking of hands on his back and a mouth on his neck, and crackdust she hated Flightlust.

[nozomi]

Warden arose before dawn on most days. Usually he prepared his dose of drugs, and returned to his bedding with a scroll to plot out the day before being interrupted in his office. Glows were always on the in the morning; a member of the Wher patrol left them out in a basket, at his door. That particular morning, the glows sat for him as any other, and he mixed himself a light doze - the day felt like a good one.

He'd need to speak to Zalman, on the status of the Wherlings, the other Golds. Then with Jessan, weekly update on the prisoners. Two appointments with new prisoners, a check up on Ralvyn, oiling Yusuth -

Feeding Yusuth. His large dragon yawned, jaw snapping shut at the distance.

Feeding Yusuth. and-

Dragon and rider froze. A delicate, frightened mind voice rang out over the Weyr.

I'm sorry, said the Opal, soft and small. I am no gold, by I'll try.[/color]

Iiateth took to the air, and instantly the mind of the pair shifted. Warden did not need to see his bonded to know Yusuth's eyes turned an instant purple, and feel how his mind clouded with desire.

Yusuth- Even his protest sounded weak, along with his knees.

No. The bronze all but shot from his tent, claws digging into the ground. He launched himself into the air after the shimmering Opal. Warden almost whimpered, the noise having caught in his throat, and made it difficult to breath.

He scrubbed at his eyes, gulped his wine, cleared his throat, and none of it assisted.

Warden did not want, as a general rule. If he were ever the sort to desire a person, he'd have long ago returned Zalman's flirtations. He did not mind the Goldhandler as much as most thought but - but -

The man born Vityai of Bronze Yusuth did not want. Naked skin filled him with boredom, and the one time he kissed, he felt nothing more than wet lips on his own. The boys name had been - Yosef? Something, and thirty-three turns ago, at that.

But when Opal rose, and Yusuth chased, all he knew was desire. Warden grabbed hold of the table in his tent, and screwed his eyes shut.

His head hurt.

OOC: Opal has Risen. Every male dragon will be Chasing, Yusuth included. Riders and every other humans will be affected, although the extent of it varies with the gender of the dragon, or if they even have a dragon. It's possible to think! But difficult.

For Prisoners: Jessan has weapons! You don't have to rp your characters getting them - just go go go!

Guards have ones you can steal! Raid! Loot! Get the hell out of dodge! The plan is to take Runnerbeasts and get OUT to the designated locations the little whispers spoke of.

See Breakout Rules and Guidelines for awesome things

Consider this thread a 'starting off point', and branch off and start your own threads for the fun of all!

[tuathade]

I'm sorry. I am no gold, by I'll try.

What the shards was going on?

Arkady paced the narrow confines of his cell in long predatory strides, reckless in his turns as if he would hurl himself against the walls at any moment. The heat twisting up his insides drove him on, demanding and pushing, pushing at his head until he couldn’t even think. He didn’t know what he… no. He knew exactly what he wanted. He wanted it so bad it hurt, amplified by the ache of being alone. His hands shook, vision blurred. The Harper was just barely coherent enough to recognize that this was unnatural. He wasn’t a dragonrider – Flightlust shouldn’t affect him this strongly, not when he was here in his cell and the dragons were out there…

Only he wasn’t alone. Jessan was, inexplicably, just outside. And then she was inside, and the cell door stood wide open.

The significance of her words should have mattered more, and the tiny rational part remaining of Arkady’s mind (never especially rational to begin with) tried valiantly to process them. There had been a plan, hinted at in whispers. But at this particular moment, nothing mattered because Jessan was standing in his cell, without shackles or guards or a cell door or even a table between them. She was sprawled up against the doorframe, and if Arkady wasn’t so sharding Flightlust-addled then he could have written ballads about the heart-stopping way her hair fell in inviting tousled waves over her shoulders. Shards, Jessan was the most amazing person in the world.

Lust fought with the desperate desire for freedom. Both were trumped by raw joy. Unthinking, he swept the Mindhealer up into a tight, fierce embrace. “Jessan –“ His voice was low, raw and thick with hunger (for freedom? vengeance? her? shards if he could decide) but the kiss he pressed to her lips was brief and almost – almost - controlled. “Faranth, Jessan. Thank you.”

[maggie]

Kaydian had been sleeping, Log curled up next to him so as to take up the entire pillow. The flitt woke up with a chirp, disturbed by the flightlust in the air, despite his young age. He looked over at his human, who was starting to writhe uncomfortably in his sleep. He crawled over to Kaydian, making a grumbling noise.

Kaydian woke up with a start. His whole body felt too hot. He could feel everything, even the air on his skin. he shifted a bit, not liking this at all. He felt a familiar panic starting to rise. His throat started to close up and his breath came in short, shallow gasps. He looked up. The door was open. The door wasn't supposed to be open. He could see, in the corridor just past his room, people running past. He could see weapons in their hands. His eyes went wide and he stopped breathing for a few seconds. A strangled whimper escaped him and he shrunk back on himself on the bed, his whole body shivering violently.

Log gave him a decidedly alarmed look, a nice change from his usual disappointed one. His eyes started whirling red as he faced the corridor. He glared. This was all very disappointing. The other humans were acting weird, the dragons were being far too obsessed, the whers... well they were whers and Log's own human was very obviously defective. Log sighed, although in his anger, it came out as a bit of a hiss. Well the human was his. No one was allowed to hurt him. And he wasn't allowed to be defective. Yet again, Log would have to be the responsible one. He would have to manifest his disappointment to his human later, when he was a little less shakey. He launched himself from the pillow, deciding to herd his human to safety. He needed someone bigger to help him protect Kaydian. He was only one little flitt, after all, which was very disappointing. One day he would be big and better at this.

He climbed onto Kaydian's shoulder, pressing himself against the boy's neck to calm him. Kaydian's hand reached up to stroke him reflexively to calm himself. Log launched himself off his shoulder, keeping his tail wrapped around Kaydian's hand to lead him out of the room.

Kaydian paused in the doorway, overwhelmed despite Log's clumsy attempts to corral him. He spotted Jessan, desperately searching for a little order and comfort in the crowd. He was about to approach her when he spotted the weaponds in his hand. His overheated body suddenly felt cold. He froze for a moment, terror overwhelming him. Log actually growled. He let go of the flitt's tail, turning and diving for his bed. He dove underneath it, pulling the blankets with him to cocoon in. He plastered himself against the wall, shivering. Log landed on the bed, his eyes still whirling red. He sighed, shaking his head. He was very disappoint in this whole situation.

[S'yal]

Iris did not like this. The woman was trapped, alone in solitary and without her ribbon and there were feelings inside of her that pushed and clawed and screamed and made her want. She hadn't wanted anything in so long, and the woman staggered underneath the weight of the emotions. Her blue eyes glazed over, and it took all she had to resist the one who opened her cell and released her, screamed something about a mindhealer releasing the prisoners. Freedom. It was at her hands, the chance to be free and fight and scream and run and have sex and do whatever she pleased.

The lust in her mind confused her, but the wish and want of freedom pushed her farther. She stumbled out of her cell, and somehow in her frenxied escape acquired a knife. Or two. One was slick and short and obviously meant for throwing, the other was more like a dagger then anything else. Something to stab and rend and tear- and thinking about those things just made Iris want more. Blood and sex sounded like such a knife combination. But no, freedom, freedom.

On the outside, Iris seemed almost unaffected by the lust. The only thing noticable were dialated pupils, the way her eyes darted between every body in the hallway as they all darted and fought for freedom. She saw Jessan, once, and stared at her as she passed. That was the one setting them free? Iris would watch for her, then. Iris owed her freedom to the woman.

But for the moment, her heart was beating out of her chest as if it was struggling for freedom, and she needed to get out. The cursed Opal, the little monster. There was a syringe of fellis with the Opals name on it, there was. But first, escape and then sex.

[nozomi]

Out of all the reactions to his release, Jessan had not expected that hug. Perhaps she should have; Ark always talked about how much he hated this place and the confinement whenever asked about it (and she had often asked how things were going). And, just maybe, without being bound and totally modest in her clothing helped? Either way, she had for him a bag of weapons, and a way out, and he had a hug. Jessan enjoyed hugs, especially when from someone not tied to her by blood like her brother. She even laughed when pulled up, fingers to Ark's head, and she dragged him down for a second, harder kiss, complete with the scrape of teeth and a low growl.

"Told you we'd get you into the sunlight, Arkady." And another bite, to his jaw, before she leaned back against the doorframe. One slim hand ghosted down his arm while Jessan grinned at the prisoner, lids heavy. Such was the flight lust that she ignored the knowledge that her collar had not been buttoned or sleeves rolled down, revealing the faint twists of tell-tale burn scars along part of her own neck and knuckles. With his like of chaos, it just didn't seem important. "And I have something for you, pet."

Her hand came back up. A machete, the thing that weighed her down enough. She'd asked Jordyn's blacksmith for her, claiming that in order to further assist her clients she needed to work out in the fields with them a few days, and so needed a tool. Stupid girl had just taken a few stupid moments to look over the Mindhealer, winked, and said she enjoyed helping a pretty girls. Idiot bitch. Heavy and a foot and a half in length, the thing was wickedly curved, it's protective cloth wrapping having fallen off while in her pack. She sighed happily once she pulled out the weapon, the weight on her shoulder easing up.

"Kissing and other things later. Escape and a little wreckage of the prison now." She smiled, fox-like and sharp, her teeth flashing in the quiet light of the prison halls. "I'd consider it a personal favor, love. You see?" Her other hand slid over, nails curling down Arkady's pretty face with something akin to affection. "Just as I would if you kept away from a little albino boy, and a tall boy with a grumpy flit. You are by far my favorite, but I want them alive."

SHe kissed him, again, and pushed Arkady back if he hadn't moved away to take the machete. The grin stayed, though her hand flicked to the hall. "Go. I have other people to let go, you know. Meet me by the runnerbeasts. We'll get out."

[tuathade]

Faranth’s shiny golden egg, where had she been keeping those tits?! This was some kind of sharding Flight miracle – and she was kissing him back, oh shells, when he felt the scrape of teeth it took every ounce of self-control he had to keep from helping her with that partway-unbuttoned clothing.

Focus, Arkady. Prison break. Happening right now. Bang your therapist later.

So he parted when she did, albeit reluctantly, and if the gleam in his eyes was a little too intense and smoldering, he was at least more-or-less attentive. “You brought me a present? How sweet of y-oh shards, Jessan!” Reverent hands took the blade from her, holding it with easy familiarity. Oh, oh she was a clever girl, she’d read his file. Arkady had a terrible, terrible fondness for anything sharp. And what a pretty thing this was, curving in all the right places and sharp enough to do some proper damage! The perfect instrument for the ex-Harper. “This is. This is perfect.”

He beamed at her, a grin from ear-to-ear, all teeth and malice. “I’ll be good. If you run into trouble with the guards, just give a shout.” Arkady didn’t know about Machi. How could he know about Machi? “Meet you as soon as I can.” And with that, he was off, long loping strides carrying him down the hallway, Flightlust subsumed in bloodlust. Havoc, he could do. He was fantastic at chaos, chaos was what he did best.

And he knew exactly where he wanted to begin.

[nozomi]

Ark was such a good boy. Senar and Kaydian were favorites, yes, but Arkady was the one that gleefully went along with her plans of mass destruction and that joked. Jessan played favorites, and Arkady happened to be number one. Luckily for Kaydian and Senar, she liked them enough to care if they were dead. So she smiled again when Arkady grinned at her that way, offered his assistance if something were to go wrong, and ran off. So much like her brother (but so much more entertaining).

Next - the doctor, then the others. That girl, she unlocked, right near to Jiruyno, and then with shaking fingers unlocked that fateful mans cell. After the little encounter with Arkady, Jessan started to breathe heavily, and if she were less of a lady, it'd be 'panting'. She quirked her finger at the older man, face flushed, feverish still, just seconds before she started to laugh.

"Healer Jiruyno? Are you up for a little bit of an adventure?" Jessan's eyes lit up, and she squirmed, actually squirmed, a low thrum to her voice. "Or would you prefer to stay here in those distasteful chains and unable to have some fun?"

[giftwrapped]

He had known about the breakout; had listened to the rumours and had decided he had no interest in the messy business that was to come. But he hadn't expected the opal's flightlust to be so powerful, so overwhelmingly, deliciously powerful...

It was like a narcotic administered straight through the vein; immediately powerful, soporific and thick and Jiruyno's entire being was momentarily entangled in a desire to find and possess someone...but then, in a moment, the healer had pushed all those thoughts away. He was master of his own emotions, master of his own body. And if the newly-matured dragonet was going to cause him flashbacks of his apprentices (graceful, beautiful, the way his lips had trembled that first time...the tears matting his dark hair) - ah, no! Jiruyno was better than that! And as base urges warred within him, the redheaded man stood quietly, not even a hitch in his breath to give him away.

Jessan would come. He knew she would. He channeled hyper-awareness into a strain of the ears, seeking the arrival of the woman he knew would come. He did not pace, but when it started, he paced to the cot that was one of the only furnishings in his cell, flipping it over. There was a slit on the bottom, he reached into it, pulling a small bag out of the straw stuffing.

It had been difficult to procure, but Jiruyno was no fool. He had paid in favours that the Warden would have killed his guards over. It had been worth it for the double palmful of Pern's most precious - and most dangerous - commodity that he now held in a tiny drawstring bag.

The sounds of doors opening, slamming back, a strangled gasp that he recognized as Machi, the only one of the base murderers who interested Jiruyno beyond a simple once-over - Natasa, had he said? But the woman opening the doors...oh, there would be questions for the future. A great many questions. He heard the footsteps coming to his cell, looked up as the door slid open, offered a dangerous smile that suddenly froze as Jiruyno caught sight of Jessan.

Faranth, but he had suspected she bound her chest! And she was...for a moment, Jiruyno was no longer in control of himself, and he stepped forward, harsh grey eyes raking over Jessan's lithe form, the hand not occupied with his precious cargo reaching up to tangle itself roughly in her hair. He rasped a breath, rough, intense, and pulled her close, resisting the urge to bury his face in her inviting chest...

What was he doing? The coldness reasserted itself, and Jiruyno dropped his hand, stepping away quickly from Jessan and adjusting his tunic as if he had not just nearly lost himself with Flightlust. "Jessan," he said warmly, inclining his head to the woman. "You have done well, haven't you?"

[nozomi]

Just as Jessan could not predict how Arkady reacted to his release, she had no sharding clue that Jiruyno would do - well. That. Her head went back with his grip willingly enough, eyes hooded. That breath of his - she returned it with quite the Ark response of a smile more akin to a snarl, though hers may have been a tad warmer to the edges.

"And here I had you pegged to be more interested in men." The Mindhealer murmured, fluttery hands up and in her own hair then, putting it into some semblance of order. Oh, Jessan. The escape was happening. Why are you worried about your hair? Her smile widened a little more, and she winked at her fellow Healer. "Even the less female inclined appreciate the - ah - assets. You didn't think I wore those buttoned up clothes just to look demure, did you?"

At least her voice held no scorn. Jessan tried not to sound that way, anyhow, and straightened her shoulders a bit. "Indeed I have, though the whole Opal flightLust thing happening was not a part of the original plan. It's a handy thing, though." She chortled and stepped back out of the cell, eyes dark and on Jiruyno. "Are you coming, pretty Healer? Or am I going to be telling stories about the man still in his cells once we're all out?"

[giftwrapped]

At any other time, Jiru would have played the game, would have smiled coldly and made some witty repartee. As it was, at Jessan's mockery, his lip curled in an expression that was unmistakably disgusted but oddly predatory, and he sniffed his irritation at the woman. Later, he would have something to say to her. Now....now, he did not. Now was not the time for talking, it was the time for action. And there was Jessan, again mocking him. For a moment his hand tensed on the small drawstring bag he carried, expression one of evil intent...but he was not his feelings. He was nothing but Jiruyno, the intellect driving the physical and emotional shell. The lust parted, washing around him, and he could breathe again.

"You will see me, Jessan," he answered simply in a voice that no longer shook, quirking an ironic smile and running his free hand through his own hair. It was as if Jiruyno had banished the Flightlust. He hadn't, but he was used to parting himself from his body and heart. He had better things to do than stand around panting for sex. He needed to get to the Infirmary, collect the things he needed - and perhaps pay that lovely young healer apprentice a visit...the cold smile stayed and he slipped past Jessan into the hall.

"Your bag," he remarked lightly. "Weapons, I assume? I won't need anything," he drawled, glancing over his shoulder. "I have something better." And he held aloft the bag then, tossing it and catching it by its drawstrings so it dangled in front of his face. "It's not so difficult to find as you'd think." Opening it, he tipped it slightly so Jessan could see inside. He wouldn't say the word in a hall full of dangerous criminals, most of whom were armed and likely quite willing to kill him for what he carried. It was a prodigious quantity, after all.

Dust.

"In the eyes," he remarked lightly, "and they'll be blind forever - if they're lucky."

And with that, he turned on his heel and strode off.

[Cansi]

Alezri and solitary confinement would have got along well together, if not for the whole losing his only prized possession deal. It would have been like his own private restday- he could just see it in his mind. Sometimes he weighed the value of having Squall for company between intentionally getting stuck with solitary. As long as he pretended to be suitably chastised when he was scolded for slacking, nobody had caught on that he actually enjoyed not having to do much. Certainly since he already had a firelizard - and didn't care what he ate - there wasn't much to encourage him to be productive. Violent prisoners couldn't Stand; there was nothing else to look forward to. Four Turns later, and he was still bored out of his wits here. Nothing exciting ever happened to him, though it was better than a painful alternative. He just couldn't stand the thought of anything happening to his little bronze though. Even the license to lay about wasn't worth that. So he was well behaved enough to avoid solitary, not fighting, not being directly disobedient, though it rankled that these people still made him sweat.

The dirty blond hair hanging over his ear fluttered as his firelizard breathed warmly across it, odd little cheeps sounding with each breath. The young inmate was laying on his cot, under the blankets, imagining those breaths (and a naughty hand) were Jayce's. Alezri really seemed to be suffering from physical loneliness since the last dragon's mating flight, when who he fell in bed with had been less important than how. Man, he could really use somebody right about now.

Some thought passed through his mind, definitely not his own; also not Squall's, because there were words, not images. The agitated little bronze swatted his person with his tail, right across the mouth open with pleasure. "What is it?" Alezri whispered, wiping his hand on the blanket. Shards... it hadn't helped. The flit's faceted eyes were spinning in hues to match the jumpsuit undone to the human's hips. The flit crooned in answer. He nuzzled the pale cheek with his eyebrow ridge, then padded quickly to the edge of the bed and disappeared into the gloom.

Alezri sat up and tossed the soiled cover into the floor to be dealt with later, then stuffed himself back into the jumpsuit. He hated these things. They were almost fluorescent; just disgusting. From the noises and motion in the mens' barracks, he could just tell that some people were getting it on. That knowledge made him want to cover up and try again, but nearby a man was sitting up in his bed too, hands blindly reaching... it had to be another mating flight. The words that had passed through the inmates' minds must have been those of a dragon.

He was just done sliding into bed beside the guy next to him, equally needy if slightly more coherent, when a distant ruckus abruptly reached the barracks. "We're getting out!" somebody hissed from outside the barred door, even as it swung open. Alezri looked down at the man, yearning. Maybe just a moment... he was kissing the man brutally in a joining of lips and teeth when he realized that some people were actually moving toward the open door. Well, if they had the self control, so did he.

But I want... he tastes... I want... I want out, shard it! Alezri didn't bother making explanations to the obviously lust-addled guy he'd been feeling up a moment ago. He got up, shoved his feet into his boots and made for the door, adrenaline racing, blood centered in one location. It might have been embarrassing if he didn't see several others moving around in the same state of arousal. Someone shoved a knife into his hand, and he looked down at it dumbly before moving on with the main knot of prisoners. The prisoners who weren't coming, most of them nonviolent offenders, hung back and watched.

And those who were escaping flowed through the corridors, some looking for trouble: others, like Alezri, just looking for an escape...