Ruin
Wingrider 
ruinct[M:-786]
We build the worlds we wouldn't mind living in
Posts: 1,137
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Post by Ruin on Jun 20, 2011 15:18:49 GMT -5
Sebolaren’s fingertips trailed along the cool inner-wall of the Candidates Barracks. His hair was wet, he was tired, and he was quite cold: He also couldn’t see. Although he brandished before him a single glow—shaken until it was a sallow light against the darkness—it didn’t do much for his night vision. His trip from the stables to where he was now had been mostly uneventful; mostly.
He’d almost gotten the entire way to the door before he realized his arms were still covered in placenta: yum. A detour to the Lake—with non-too-few hungry looks from the on-duty Wher’s—and he was here. A foaling was a precarious time when you weren’t stuck on an island locked by water, since the Stablemaster had discovered that he was not only an apprentice—but also had far more experience than most due to his upbringing, he had been required at nearly every birthing.
Not that there were too many here, but there were a couple, and he had to admit that his heart sang every time he saw a new foal. Someday, when he had more time and could devote hours training him—there would be a runner in his life. The entire process had gone quite smoothly—except for the mare’s extended labor. So now it was well beyond the point where he would usually sleep—already exhausted from an entire day awake on the beach with Xiro’el—and all he wanted was the warmth of his furs. He stumbled softly in the dark as he found the door to his shared room; dropping the glow he had carried into a nearby basket he opened the door and walked in.
He had learned previously that attempting to be quiet did far more to frazzle Daymar’s nerves than simply walking as if he weren’t some assassin come to kill him—whichever damned soul had told the man there had been assassinations at Dalibor had better never admit it openly. Sebol had already been attacked by baskets, glows, brushes, and—once—even a well full of ink. So he did as usual and stripped near the dressing area changing into a light pair of trousers and an even lighter tunic. With a soft sigh he slipped into his own bed.
Once there, safely behind a closed door and roomed with a man who would rather die a painful death then stare upon a naked body; he stripped from that light outer tunic. Feeling the fur against his flesh caused ripples of goose bumps to stand out on his body. The day past where he had gone without his shirt was still a memory so fresh and vivid that the thought of laying here covered was stifling. He sighed softly and tried to find the passage to sleep.
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Sakoru
Drudge
THE FEARSOME FIERY BEAST
Posts: 11
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Post by Sakoru on Jun 20, 2011 17:25:53 GMT -5
Tigreath had been asleep for a couple of marks now, and she generally slept like a rock. Not wanting to disturb her and unable to sleep, Xiro'el had crept out of the weyrling barracks. He wasn't unfamiliar with this situation: getting through a full day of unarguably exhausting work, and then finding himself incapable of getting to sleep. Tonight it was worse, probably because he could still almost feel the touch of the dawn air that morning when he awoke where he should have been all along: outside. It had been a long time since he'd slept under the stars... somehow he'd managed to make himself forget why he missed it.
Now he remembered, and stood alone in the Bowl, staring up at the night sky. For what, he didn't know -- he knew the constellations, and he also knew that there were no answers up there. How many times had he looked, back when he was on the trail, and found nothing but star-spangled darkness? No voices in the sky, no faces, and certainly no glaring letters to spell out the answers to all life's mysteries. Even if there had been letters, Xiro wouldn't have been able to read them. That part of his education had been a little neglected.
Dropping his gaze from the heavens, the trader broke into a slow lope, already choosing the route he would take tonight. All around the Bowl? Down past the lake? Not by the bridges -- he'd been privy to more than one of those secret trysts, and had no desire to see more if he weren't directly involved. Perhaps he'd go down to the stables, and maybe visit Requias... he'd taken a liking to Sebolaren's borrowed mare, perched astride her back as he had been so early this morning.
Yes, that was what he'd do. Head down to the stables, and give some love to the runners. Faranth knew that most of them didn't get enough attention, and his own pet was asleep in the barracks. She'd gotten better used to Weyrlife than he had, and tended to sleep much more deeply than she ever had on the trail. It was a good thing, he supposed, but it also reminded him of his own growing discontent with the place.
Loping in the direction of the stables, Xiro'el paused. There was a figure coming up from that way, a tall broad shape that was by now rather familiar. Sebolaren. Watching him, the trader could only deduce that there had been some event of import in the herders' domain, and Sebol being a herder meant that he would have wanted to attend to it. What it was he could only guess -- perhaps an animal birthing, since it was the season for those.
Knowing that he hadn't been noticed, the weyrling felt an insidious little idea creeping into his mind. If he were caught, he would probably get in trouble. Scratch that -- he'd definitely get in trouble. Unfortunately for the rest of the Weyr, Xiro'el was not inclined to care. He changed route abruptly, circling up over the north end of the lake and heading for the candidate barracks. How he'd hated that place... and still did, really. But now he had this idea, and it simply refused to go away.
Padding silently through the entrance and down the hall proved to be a non-issue for the trader. Not being one to carry a glowbasket with him, he counted off doors by touch, searching for the one he wanted. Ah... there. Xiro halted, fingering the doorknob apprehensively. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea... but his dragonet's recklessness had become a part of him, too, in these past sevendays. He didn't listen to the cautious voice, and instead embraced what danger there might be, turning the doorknob to let himself in.
Left or right? He paused for a moment in the doorway, figuring it out, and then remembered. Easing the door shut behind him, the trader remained there for a moment longer and then stepped silently deeper into the room. His dark skin was a bit of an asset for this midnight sneaking; in the gloom of the candidate cell he was nearly invisible, shirtless though he happened to be. Being invisible wasn't necessarily his goal, though, yet neither was being noticed. It wasn't like he was here for any nefarious purposes, after all.
To many a person, his next actions might have seemed a bit nefarious, though. Xiro hesitated a moment longer again, and then approached the bed he knew to contain Sebol. It didn't take long to slip down and stretch out alongside the candidate -- not touching him, for fear he'd wake. In case he already had, though, the trader whispered into the darkness of the room, in a voice that was probably barely audible even to Sebol. "It's just me. Xiro." |
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Ruin
Wingrider
ruinct[M:-786]
We build the worlds we wouldn't mind living in
Posts: 1,137
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Post by Ruin on Jun 20, 2011 20:12:08 GMT -5
He hadn’t been asleep, not even close, when he felt the air shift. A space this confined there wasn’t anywhere for the currents from the outside hallway to go but breathing into the room. It was like the dropping pressure of an incoming storm, and his head swung to it soundlessly. The shadow within the shadows that hesitated there moved closer; slowly, and even when Sebolaren was almost certain who it was—but how, why?—he felt a shiver of nervousness pass up his body. Perhaps the Trader had second thoughts regarding their previous day spent together. He steeled himself—ready to defend his life, and was surprised when the man simply slipped into the bed beside him. Surprised and confused.
Well then. He heard the whisper in the darkness, inches away and yet it could have been miles. It wasn’t hard for Sebolaren to puzzle out his reason for being there—once murder was ruled out. So he wanted to see if a pair of arms would give him rest enough to make it through Weyrlife. Sebol had no problem with that; anything to give this Trader a sense of belonging; anything to keep him from whisking away in the middle of Fall never to be seen again. Well he certainly wouldn’t find any sense of comfort over there. While that confused Sebol it didn’t stop him from completing that which the Trader sought, and might not have the nerves to claim.
Reaching out he hooked the man gently by shoulders and back, pulling and rolling him into the nook of his arm where his head could rest pressed to those black inkings he enjoyed so very much; not even mindful of the fact that now they were completely exposed. Words he did not have, but he curled that marked arm up so he could drape it across the Trader’s shoulders. At long last, he could sleep.
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Cathaline
Lady Holder 
cathct[M:50]
Posts: 3,279
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Post by Cathaline on Jun 20, 2011 20:24:17 GMT -5
Daymar's nerves were already about as frazzled as they got, frankly. Sebolaren was late, and therefore Daymar absolutely could not sleep. He stared blankly at the ceiling in the darkness, imagining all sorts of heinous things that might have befallen his roommate - his friend, now, he supposed. Eaten by runners. Trampled by whers. Fallen in the black night, his leg broken, unable to crawl all the way here to receive assistance. And Daymar was entirely too much a coward to go and find him - not that he would even know where to begin.
A soft sigh escaped him when he heard Sebol enter, and he turned politely toward the wall, only a slight rustle of the bedclothes indicating movement - and it might have been in his sleep. The boy was full of questions, but the interrogation would wait until morning. Wherever Sebolaren had gone, he was back now, apparently whole, and no doubt exhausted. Perhaps on the way to breakfast Daymar could pry the information he wanted out of Sebol - where and why and would this happen again.
Daymar wasn't even close to sleep, however, when he heard a sound that struck cold terror into his heart: the door opening again. Perhaps Sebolaren was going to the bathroom? Only he hadn't heard the man leave his bed...and the very slight shuffle of footsteps came in. Toward Sebolaren's bed. He couldn't hear Xiro's whisper over the sound of his own pounding heart as he screwed up his meager courage. People protected their friends...and even now, it might be too late...
Groping blindly into the darkness, Daymar found the two things he searched for, one on top of another: an empty mug, turned upside-down to cover a dim glow, for use if he needed to see something in the middle of the night. He tensed himself to spring, and then leapt out of bed with a shriek intended to discomfit the intruder.
Well, it discomfited Daymar, and so did the fact that his sheet had twined nefariously around his legs. He spilled to the ground, managing to keep a grip on his makeshift weapon, and staggered back to his feet. In the wavering light of the glow, he not only saw naked flesh and a random stranger, but what he fancied to be dark movement.
"Spinners!" he screamed at the top of his lungs. "Trundlebugs! Crawlers!" And without a second thought for the interloper, he dove forward to attempt to beat the tattoos off of his roommate's arm.
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Sakoru
Drudge
THE FEARSOME FIERY BEAST
Posts: 11
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Post by Sakoru on Jun 20, 2011 21:01:33 GMT -5
Xiro didn't say anything more, because he didn't need to. Sebol didn't speak, and because of that there was no need for more words. When large hands caught him and pulled at him he hesitated a moment out of caution, and then shifted willingly closer, resting his head against the tattooed shoulder. The smaller man rolled himself close, letting his skin come in full contact with Sebol's, and curled an arm over the broad chest. Feeling the candidate's arm cradle his shoulders, Xiro'el closed his eyes and breathed a soft sigh. Despite being forced into blood-brotherhood, he had no delusions that the herder intended to hurt him. If he'd meant that, it could have been done anytime while he'd been sleeping last night.
And perhaps he could have slept again, with a warm body to press close to. While he wasn't asleep yet, Sebol's presence soothed his Weyr-jangled nerves, and the trader's body relaxed, enough that he probably could have slipped into oblivion.
Except for the shriek. Instantly Xiro's heart kicked into high gear, pounding inside his chest, and he started to kick the furs off, ready to defend his life just as Sebol had been such a short time ago. Right as he did so, some fiend with a blunt object started flailing about, shrieking about various kinds of insects. Whatever he was holding struck the holdless on the shoulder, regardless of what he'd actually been aiming for, and the weyrling lost patience.
Blessed with more grace than his assailant, the traderborn pulled himself free of the herder's embrace, sprang clear of the furs and slammed the screeching fury into the floor. Since he didn't have his knife (which was just as well given the adrenaline pounding through his veins), Xiro'el pinned the other with his hips, and silenced him with one hand, using the other to keep the weapon-holding arm at bay. "Shut up!" he whispered, and glared down at the crazy boy underneath him. |
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Ruin
Wingrider
ruinct[M:-786]
We build the worlds we wouldn't mind living in
Posts: 1,137
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Post by Ruin on Jun 20, 2011 21:19:16 GMT -5
Sleep. The Trader had given himself over without a fight, and now the guardian could rest in the safety of his own—Xiro’el’s eager kick of the bedding was aided by Sebolaren’s and the binding fur was clear of them before the Herder had a chance to see—well that was impossible—but realize from what or whom the high pitched wail was emanating. When he did realize—it was far too late; too late for any of them. His mouth opened to silence Daymar, but his ears heard the dull thud of something against flesh and…
He should have known the Trader would be more accomplished and agile than he had let on, the speed at which he moved—it was over before he had found his feet. As much as he wanted to deal with the two of them, at this moment there was something far more pressing that needed attending to. “For the love of all of us, don’t let him make another sound,” it wasn’t a request, by the adrenaline rushing through his heart it wasn’t even an oath. He strode to the dressing chest on tense legs and dug out a heavy long-sleeved tunic which he threw on without care for which way it faced; then he went to the door.
Ear pressed tightly to the cool smooth surface he listened; there were voices—of course there were—but there was a chance—small and insignificant—that the stone had muddied the sound to the point of undetermined origin. The knock came as he knew it would and he paused, holding his breath. It came again heartbeats later: This time it was louder and more commanding. He waited two more breathes and held the knob, another two and he opened it slowly—his face a mask of weariness that hardly needed faking: His arm leaning heavily on the wall.
‘Did you hear a…’ the Candidate lowered his voice as Sebol begged him, waving toward Daymar’s bed that was still shrouded in darkness. Last thing anyone would want was Daymar knowing there had been strangled screams coming from the Barracks—certainly if it had been from him he’d be running across the Bowl now. A few hushed words passed between that open crack far too faint for the men behind him to hear, and then Sebol closed the door. Resting his forehead upon it he tried to find the energy to move.
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Cathaline
Lady Holder
cathct[M:50]
Posts: 3,279
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Post by Cathaline on Jun 20, 2011 21:28:22 GMT -5
Daymar, of course, had no fighting training, and he operated on pure adrenaline - which was not enough, already unsteady on his feet, to protect him from Xiro'el's tackle. He managed only another scream before the breath was driven from him by impact; his head bounced off the floor, and addled as he was, he wasn't even in any condition to speak when Xiro's hand covered his mouth. He bit, of course; it was all that he could think to do.
Far more important than any physical pain, however, was the stab of utter betrayal that the order to silence him had come from Sebol. The man he'd considered a friend - had tried to protect from the deadly bugs and the intruder - had turned on him and wanted him dead. Daymar went quite limp under Xiro'el, his grey eyes clouded, and his imagination went wild as the night progressed. Getting rid of the Candidatemaster, of course; then a knife between the ribs and oblivion for him. Then they'd haul him to the lake and let the fishes have him. Maybe toss him in the feeding pens in the hope that a sleepy wher would dispose of the evidence without noticing he was no wherry.
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Sakoru
Drudge
THE FEARSOME FIERY BEAST
Posts: 11
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Post by Sakoru on Jun 20, 2011 21:43:45 GMT -5
Sebolaren's orders were heard and obeyed, though Xiro'el didn't say a word. He glared down at his assailant-turned-victim, making not a sound. The bite was met with a hiss of pain, but he didn't let go, deciding to let the candidate bite as much as he wanted. Silence was of utmost importance, given the murmurs and whispering out in the hall, and the trader held tight to that standard.
Keeping his would-be attacker pinned to the floor, Xiro waited, and leaned down closer, the better to hold the treacherous mouth shut. He stayed like that, glaring at the boy beneath him, hoping to cow him into unresistance with his menacing presence, if not his shadowed face.
He could tell that Sebol was speaking with someone, but couldn't make out any of the words. That was fine by him. The exchange didn't take long, and only when it was over did the trader dare take his eyes -- but not hands -- off his victim. He glanced to the giant by the door, allowed him a few moments to collect his thoughts, and then whispered to him across the silent, empty space. "Not coming back, are they?" |
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Ruin
Wingrider
ruinct[M:-786]
We build the worlds we wouldn't mind living in
Posts: 1,137
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Post by Ruin on Jun 20, 2011 22:15:49 GMT -5
He sighed “Why wouldn’t they, they’ll want answers, as I’m sure Daymar does.” He went and sat heavily on the bed, the weariness of many hours with no sleep pressing down on him as his head sank into his palms. This night could have definitely gone far, far better. He found the dim glow on the floor and shook it into a healthier sheen so he could stare down on the two men.
He should have stayed in the stables. That was the thick and thin of it—sleep in the hay with nothing to bother you but a bunch of runnerbeasts. Yet here he was, in the middle of what was probably going to become a terribly huge mess. Fantastic. “Might as well let him up, maybe he’ll accidentally kill me with a misplaced step and I can finally sleep.”
Not likely, but he could wish couldn’t he. Still, he owed Daymar an apology. “The markings were tattoos, Daymar, and unfortunately there aren’t many people who know about them. As much as I’m sure you’re not keen on me, I’d appreciate if it could stay that way—if I’m still here come morning. Which is also unlikely.”
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Cathaline
Lady Holder
cathct[M:50]
Posts: 3,279
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Post by Cathaline on Jun 20, 2011 22:24:21 GMT -5
Yes, thank you, Daymar very badly wanted some answers. He was fairly sure that bed-sharing of all sorts was prohibited in Candidacy, and dead certain that sex was. Naturally, since they were both all but naked to his eyes, he assumed that was what they'd been up to, and it was horrifying.
Really, next to midnight intruders, nude skin of any kind, his future murder, and horrifying bugs, Daymar just did not have it in him right now to panic about the tattoos. Obviously he had a holder's aversion to the practice, but it was a minor sour note in the symphony of awful that the past several minutes had brought. Still here come morning! Daymar wouldn't be. He'd be dead, and they would flee the scene, apparently, rather than hope the body was never found. Tell everyone he'd run away home to Western, and the dragonmen wouldn't bother to check, hating his presumptive cowardice.
Though he couldn't speak around Xiro'el's hand, his eyes glared in accusation, though probably not the sort Sebol feared. Daymar wanted to beg for his life, but that was impossible, now, wasn't it? Let him up, ha. Like that was honestly going to happen. They were lulling him into a false sense of security, and then, bam. Death.
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Sakoru
Drudge
THE FEARSOME FIERY BEAST
Posts: 11
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Post by Sakoru on Jun 20, 2011 23:25:51 GMT -5
Oh. Daymar. So that was the guy's name. Xiro hadn't even thought to consider the identity of his opponent, probably due to the fact that his bloodstream was about ninety percent adrenaline. Brains did not function well on adrenaline, and his was no exception. Then again, maybe it hadn't been functioning very well even before Daymar gave him a heart attack. Why on Pern had he even bothered to come in here? He was causing chaos for... what, a good night's sleep?
'Might as well let him up,' Sebol said, and Xiro'el released his captive, rising from his position on the guy's waist to stand close to the middle of the room. He did not apologize for the tackle, because as far as he was concerned, having someone shriek and attack you was grounds to retaliate. Part of the giant candidate's comment caught his attention, though, and the weyrling regarded him thoughtfully in the dim light of the glow. "You didn't sleep." It was almost an accusation -- 'you let me sleep but not yourself!'
Well, whatever. Explanations had to be forthcoming, and the cyanrider let Sebol take care of them as he would. That is, until he finished speaking, at which point Daymar hadn't yet said anything (happily). "Don't scream again," he advised the boy on the floor quietly, and raised a meaningful but almost invisible brow in the dark. Seeing Sebol lower himself onto the edge of the bed, though, Xiro frowned slightly. He looked tired, understandably. Probably this hadn't been such a good idea after all. "Sorry for droppin' in on the two of you," he added, a little awkwardly, the gaze he levelled at Sebol more sincere than the words themselves. Whether or not the herder could see it he didn't know, and frankly he didn't really care about Daymar at the moment, not knowing him except as the crazy screaming boy with a mug. |
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Ruin
Wingrider
ruinct[M:-786]
We build the worlds we wouldn't mind living in
Posts: 1,137
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Post by Ruin on Jun 20, 2011 23:39:46 GMT -5
He heard the tell-tale sounds of Xiro releasing his captive, though at the moment it was all he could muster to pinch the bridge of his nose between thumb and forefinger. He sighed again fingers moving to his temples. Backlash headache if he’d ever felt one—and it’d probably get much worse regardless of sleep. Another check on the list for the irony. His free hand played with the dim glow listlessly, and it was all he could do to even hear the words being spoken.
Although the sharper tone from the Trader did get his attention—what’d he go and do this time to bestir Xiro’s ire. Ah, that. It hadn’t occurred to Sebol that he should have slept: In fact, he still knew it had been the proper choice. He shrugged—a useless gesture probably in the dark, so he tried to answer. “Always a man at watch.” Was true everywhere, wasn’t it, even here at the Weyr there were watchdragons and watch-whers at respective times.
He seriously hoped that Daymar wouldn’t scream again; he didn’t feel the urge to back up the Trader’s threatening tone with a request of his own. It really didn’t matter at this point, did it? He went back to trying to ease some of the tension he felt, pausing only when Xiro apologized. Sebolaren wasn’t really an angry person, and even if he was; there was nothing left in him currently that could sustain anger.
Still, he felt there wasn’t any reason for the Weyrling to be sorry. Wasn’t it a good sign, wasn’t it what Sebol wanted? Perhaps not in his bed—or really anyone else’s bed, but at least he was in the Weyr. Unsure of how to answer in front of Daymar he simply said the first some-what cryptic remark that came to mind. “You didn’t run.”
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Cathaline
Lady Holder
cathct[M:50]
Posts: 3,279
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Post by Cathaline on Jun 20, 2011 23:56:20 GMT -5
No, no more screaming. That would only bring swift death upon him. The instant Xiro rose, Daymar scrambled back into his own bed, mug still clutched tight in his hand as if it was any kind of protection - which obviously, it wasn't. His brow knit together, and he scowled across the darkened room.
Hmph. Apologizing to one another. Talking about things Daymar didn't, couldn't understand. The menace in Xiro's tone made it obvious enough they were plotting, and so Daymar took each sentence to mean something other than what it truly did. Xiro hadn't fled - so now they were in cahoots. There was always a man at watch - no doubt that was why they hadn't killed him yet, each lost in thought about how best to go about it. Probably hadn't done it yet because the intruder, though he'd been able to overpower Daymar, didn't have the strength to throttle him, and blood would leave a telltale sign...
Morbid thoughts filled Daymar's brain, which was going haywire, as he hadn't slept yet either, thank you very much, and he was high on adrenaline. Lips pressed together, he didn't say a word, plotting his own escape. If only someone had really heard his cries and came to rescue him...
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Sakoru
Drudge
THE FEARSOME FIERY BEAST
Posts: 11
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Post by Sakoru on Jun 21, 2011 0:25:39 GMT -5
What the formerly-shrieking candidate was thinking by now, Xiro didn't know, but it was probably something along the lines of terror, given the way the other male scrambled back into his bed and sat there with the mug, brooding. As long as he didn't start screaming again, that was entirely fine by the weyrling.
'Always a man at watch,' the taller of the two candidates in the room remarked, and the trader released a short laugh. Wasn't that the truth, though? If he knew people -- and he did -- some idiot who hadn't gotten the memo was likely to come wandering to the door and ask what was going on. This was provided that whomever had been at the door earlier was now wandering around telling all his or her fellow candidates that there was drama going on but that there was supposedly nothing they should be doing about it. Naturally, this was likely to lead to some dimglow coming straight to the source to find out the answers to all his or her questions.
Entertained by these semi-annoyed thoughts, Xiro took up a spot on the wall and leaned back against it, sliding his hands into his pockets. Sebol's comment took him by surprise; he glanced over at the herder and then grinned, leaning his head back against the stone behind him. "I didn't," he agreed, and closed his eyes, heaving a soft sigh before pausing as a thought percolated in his brain. A green glance found its way to Daymar, and he lifted his brows, a rather tired smirk playing across his face. "By the way, I didn't come in here to rape your roomie. Just so we're clear on that." |
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Ruin
Wingrider
ruinct[M:-786]
We build the worlds we wouldn't mind living in
Posts: 1,137
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Post by Ruin on Jun 21, 2011 0:42:29 GMT -5
And now there was silence, joyous silence. Yet Sebol couldn’t help feeling guilty as Daymar went and curled himself up on the bed. Or that’s what he assumed he was doing. And he wasn’t going over there to find out what with him being armed and all. Something had to be said into this silence though, and hopefully something that would persuade the man that nothing dastardly was going on. Especially if Sebol ever wanted to be allowed to sleep in here again…if that was even an option.
He waited until the Trader finished speaking, and added the anti-rape addendum, for which he was thankful—not that it would stop rumors—and then he too spoke. “He’s telling the truth, Daymar. To be completely honest, Xiro’el doesn’t quite fit in here, in the stone weyr, he’s Traderblood. He wanted to see if he’d be able to sleep more comfortably if it was with someone else—to take his mind off the fact that he’s here…so to speak. I suppose…though he hasn’t told me…that he chose me because I’m not going to hurt him.”
Sebol shrugged and then laughed softly; not really believing he was even laughing, but it came out all the same. “Of course there were probably better ways to go about it, but at least his intentions were in-fact noble, and not dangerous.”
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RavenSong
Jr. Weyrleader
songct[M:-364]
Posts: 710
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Post by RavenSong on Jun 21, 2011 16:36:20 GMT -5
Argotath was dozing on his couch, K'var was deeply asleep. Argotath hadn't fully gotten to sleep when Kerath spoke to him.
One of the littler little one's riders has invaded your turf, W'al's purple said, sounding gleeful. Argotath shook his head as he woke.
What? the blue responded. The purple repeated himself, and Argotath was left confused. K'varMine. Wake up! Kerath says that one of the littler little one's riders invaded my turf. What does that mean? K'var woke, rubbing his eyes.
"Littler little ones... your turf? Oh shards shards shards, a weyrling's in the Candidates' Barracks, shards and -shells-! They know better!" K'var leapt out of bed, clad in just his sleeping pants. "Come on, ArgoLove, we need to get there now. Bip! Go scout." He sent the firelizard an image of her flying around the barracks, watching for people that weren't supposed to be there. He forgot that Bip didn't know who belonged and who didn't, though, as the rotund little green betweened off. He leapt aboard his dragon without putting on a shirt, Argotath's riding straps, or even boots, and Argotath took off. He settled down next to the Barracks, and K'var slid off the blue's massive neck.
As K'var entered the barracks stealthily, he heard screaming coming from down the boys' side, screaming which was swiftly silenced. The redhead narrowed his eyes and crept along towards the sound. The person Sebol had spoken to came down the hall, and K'var stopped them. A few questions later, and he knew the source of the sounds. Why would Daymar be screaming? Was Sebolaren lying? He summoned his green and sent her into Daymar and Sebolaren's room, telling her to show him how many people were in there. Bip popped into the room, looking at all three boys in the feeble light of the dim glow. She sent back an image of three people and betweened back to K'var, who was officially Annoyed To Between And Back.
"Bip, get my glow," he said, showing his green what he wanted. Bip cheeped at him and complied, quickly bringing him his shielded glowbasket. K'var thanked her silently, then raised the cover of his glowbasket.
Purposefully, K'var threw open the boys' door, holding the bright glow high.
"WHAT IN THE NAME OF THE FIRST EGG IS GOING ON IN HERE?!" he roared, his face reddening. He glared at the three boys, blue eyes bright. "You three KNOW BETTER! ESPECIALLY YOU!" K'var pointed an accusatory finger at Xiro'el.
Outside the barracks, Argotath shifted his bulk around and sighed. Mine found the problem, Kerath, he told the tattling purple. Tell yours that Tigreath's is in there. I'm going to tell Seiseith to tell His too. True to his word, the Blue sent a message to Seiseth, letting him know that a Tideturner had been caught breaking rules.
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Cathaline
Lady Holder
cathct[M:50]
Posts: 3,279
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Post by Cathaline on Jun 21, 2011 16:43:19 GMT -5
The last thing Daymar needed to hear at the moment, with his nerves already jangling, was shouting. Really terrifying shouting. Despite his age and status and the fact that quite frankly he had not been raised to be a wimp, it was the last straw, and he burst into tears. Part of him wanted to fling himself at the rescuer, but, well, K'var didn't sound like a rescuer, and with Daymar blinded by the unexpected glow, the Candidatemaster just appeared to be a giant shadow.
Therefore, Daymar dove under his bedclothes, whacking himself in the nose with his mug in the process, and exhaustedly sobbed something about how there were crawlers everywhere and they had tried to kill him. Frankly, the words were quite indistinct, which was good; as soon as the panic died, he would decidedly not want to point the finger at the other two as murderers, which it was now clear they were not. The poor weyrling guy just wanted a safe place to sleep, and couldn't they all relate to that?
All things considered, it was really just a good thing Daymar hadn't noticed Bip's presence, because that would completely shatter what was left of his fragile mind.
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Sakoru
Drudge
THE FEARSOME FIERY BEAST
Posts: 11
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Post by Sakoru on Jun 21, 2011 17:23:36 GMT -5
Xiro'el wasn't sure what to make of Sebol uncovering all of that, but one glance at the cowering Daymar told him that the candidate probably wasn't going to care. He certainly didn't seem like the type to go around actively telling people these things -- or even speaking to other people -- so the trader supposed it wouldn't be a problem. Of course, the herder had nailed his motivations dead-on, and it bothered him a tiny bit -- was he that easy to see through? Or was it just the only logical conclusion, given that he wasn't here to assassinate anyone?
"Yeah, I kind of chose the wrong course of action there," the weyrling admitted, and drew in a deep breath, trying to quiet the racing of his heart. This was a failure, as a firelizard betweened into the room and he narrowed his eyes, watching her in the dark and feeling at his hip for a knife. Nothing. Not in his boot, either...
If K'var had known exactly how much adrenaline was pumping through Xiro's veins (and just who he was bursting in on), he might have approached the situation differently. As it was, the sudden bang of the door slamming open, the bright light, and the shouting all conspired to send the trader lunging for the new arrival. He barely stopped himself when he realized who he was attacking, partly because of the large hands he felt attempting to grasp and halt him, and the weyrling drew back towards the middle of the room, eyes narrowing against the rather painful brightness of the glow.
"Hi, K'var," he greeted, as calmly as he could manage. While not necessarily afraid of being in trouble (Faranth knew he'd caused enough of it in the caravan), Xiro was not a fan of it either. Instantly he sought the silver tongue that had gotten him so far in his career, and slipped his voice into the lull, hoping to talk the three of them out of this. "I do know, better, candidatemaster," he admitted in a contrite tone, "but I also know that there's been a misunderstanding somewhere along the line. The situation isn't quite what you probably imagine it to be." Not like his shirtless state was helping that argument at all, but he couldn't do anything about that. On he went, hoping neither of the two candidates would interrupt him as he made a bid for their innocence. "I'll give you my version of what happened, candidatemaster, if that's all right? And Sebol and Daymar here can speak for themselves, if you'll hear us all out. I will say that it's my fault you had to be woken up, and I'm sorry for that, I am." Personally he did not trust Daymar not to accuse him of murder, but excluding him from the list would probably be worse. And admitting blame might calm the candidatemaster down a bit -- might. Besides, it was true, and Xiro rather hoped that K'var could find it in him to listen to his entirely true account of this unfortunate incident. |
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Ruin
Wingrider
ruinct[M:-786]
We build the worlds we wouldn't mind living in
Posts: 1,137
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Post by Ruin on Jun 21, 2011 17:41:54 GMT -5
He spared another small chuckle for Xiro’el when the man admitted that perhaps this hadn’t been such an amazing plan—and then his eyes were drawn to the firelizard that had appeared in the room. Fantastic. Well then, this was about it wasn’t it. Sebolaren was beginning to stand: So as to properly greet the threadfire that was coming; when everything once again went far faster than his wearied mind could process.
From one end of the room came the Candidatemaster: Full of fury and surrounded by a light fit to blind those gone between, and from the other a Trader: Attacked one too many times in the past twoday. He didn’t even have a chance to utter a word, but at least his hands were quicker than his mouth—testament to snagging the ropes of one too many runnerbeasts. Unfortunately even that seemed not enough to stop the man; Sebol was just too tired: His large hands closed ineffectually on arm and shoulder then slid free.
Thankfully the force behind Xiro’el’s charge had halted, but finished propelling Sebolaren to full height so he could take responsibility for this mess. His mouth opened but, before he could utter even a syllable, Xiro’el was speaking himself. The Herder waited, but he couldn’t remain wholly quiet; “it is our fault, Candidatemaster: Daymar, however was truly an innocent.” Sebol certainly hadn’t reported Xiro to K’var himself, nor had he moved to oust the Trader from the room.
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RavenSong
Jr. Weyrleader
songct[M:-364]
Posts: 710
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Post by RavenSong on Jun 21, 2011 17:59:35 GMT -5
K'var took a step back as Xiro'el charged him, settling into a defensive stance. He planned on using the boy's momentum against him if he didn't stop himself, and deposit the boy on the floor. Fortunately, Xiro'el stopped himself, and K'var wasn't forced to use any of his fighting techniques. He gave thanks for that privately. The last thing he wanted to do with any Weyrling or Candidate was actually hurt them.
"Explain yourselves, then," K'var growled, setting the glowbasket down. Bip settled down on his head, picking up on his anger. Her eyes whirled red and orange as she chittered at the boys. K'var spared a glance towards Daymar, his expression softening.
"Daymar. They say you had no part in this. Is this true?" he asked, his voice gentle. "If so, you may relax. You're not in trouble." His expression turned harsh as he looked back at Xiro'el and Sebolaren.
"Xiro'el. You were spotted coming in here by Kerath, who warned Argotath, who woke me. Kerath, W'al's purple. Seiseth and Chelo are also aware of your presence here, I had Argotath relay the information. Fortunately my initial worries have been allayed... if you were in fact planning on scaring your poor Tigreath between by engaging in... well, relations, Daymar seems to have stopped it. Why are you in here, if you know you don't belong?"
K'var turned to Sebol. "I expect the truth from both of you, in this regard. Argotath will be informing the Weyrlingmasters' dragons of what I find here, and come morning I'm also going to let them know. You're both in trouble for breaking the rules." The Candidatemaster shook his head. "I'm disappointed, Sebolaren."
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Cathaline
Lady Holder
cathct[M:50]
Posts: 3,279
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Post by Cathaline on Jun 21, 2011 21:08:00 GMT -5
Daymar managed to peek out from under the blankets again, only to issue a small shriek and hide his face when he noticed Bip. Still unable to see clearly, his eyes not adjusted to the brightness of the glow, it was quite impossible to see what color she was or even discern her true size, and she sounded angry. She was going to rip off his face.
The little pile of bedclothes which was Daymar trembled, half-listening to Xiro'el's explanation - or beginning of one - and Sebol proclaiming him an innocent. And at last, he spoke. Might as well give all the story, even though his voice, when it issued out, was strained and tearful.
"I - I never, never would have invited someone else into our room," he quavered. "Especially not wearing any clothes. But Sebolaren knows that, and I don't think he would have, either. He most certainly would not have assumed I would sleep through - relations - so I know that's not what they were trying to do." Hopefully that would get them in less trouble. "I'm s-sorry I yelled. I didn't know he was - I thought he was an intruder coming to kill us both. He shouldn't be here," Daymar said vehemently. Or rather, the blanket pile said so, as not an inch of him was showing. "It's not all right."
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Sakoru
Drudge
THE FEARSOME FIERY BEAST
Posts: 11
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Post by Sakoru on Jun 21, 2011 22:10:05 GMT -5
Xiro'el nodded at Sebol's remark that they were both guilty, knowing that it was true. That, and denying it would just get them deeper in trouble and make it look like they were trying to defend each other. Which, maybe, they were -- Xiro didn't really want the herder to get in trouble and Sebolaren was apparently unwilling to let him take the fall alone, either.
Almost unexpectedly, K'var actually accepted the idea of the candidates (and weyrling) explaining themselves. While he was clearly angry, the cyan weyrling also knew that the bluerider was a fair man -- at the very least, he was kind, if memory served. Personally, Xiro was more concerned about fairness than anything else at the moment, especially considering Daymar's report.
"I am wearing clothes, actually," the trader remarked helpfully, indicating the trousers belted securely around his hips. As soon as Daymar was finished speaking, he stepped up to the challenge of convincing K'var with great vigour, drawing in a deep breath in an effort to keep his voice from shaking with adrenaline. Fortunately, he was not the kind of person whose voice shook much anyway.
"Daymar is in fact innocent," Xiro reaffirmed, and took a moment to run through what the candidatemaster had told him. An expression of genuine amazement crossed his face, and the trader tilted his head, raising his hands in a behest for understanding. "Candidatemaster K'var, I would under no circumstances whatsoever risk Tigreath like that. Such things are not nearly as important as my dragon. I had no intention of having 'relations,' as you put it, with Sebol." He paused a moment, and then offered a respectful smile to the older man, running a hand through his dark hair. "I don't sleep well, sir. I had the idea tonight that if I had some company, it might help that. I'm sure you remember how busy weyrling life is, and getting some kind of rest is always appreciated." He shrugged, smiling gamely. "It's all I came in here for. Sebolaren's my friend, and I just wanted to get some sleep. That's all I was looking for." And it was true, too, although he paused a moment and offered K'var a wry grin. "I admit that it wasn't the best plan I've ever come up with, but there was no rule-breaking intended." |
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Ruin
Wingrider
ruinct[M:-786]
We build the worlds we wouldn't mind living in
Posts: 1,137
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Post by Ruin on Jun 21, 2011 22:22:25 GMT -5
Just like that his perfect record was scored; a mark he would carry until he was free: Whether that freedom was graduating Weyrling class or simply being asked to leave Sebolaren did not know. He felt a great turmoil of emotion in his belly over this entire situation; on the one hand he had been caught doing what he knew was wrong, and on the other hand it had been something he felt he was doing in service to his Weyr. Quite suddenly he realized that; though there was no one else able to handle the situation quite like him, there was a certain Tanrider willing to break Xiro’el to have it done quickly. A mess indeed.
K’var’s words brought him back to the situation, and when Sebolaren heard them fully they bit him more deeply than even the punishment would in the end. Yes. He had failed his Weyr on all accounts; and what’s more he’d threatened the Candidacy not only of himself but of Daymar. Happily the Candidatemaster seemed to believe in the boy’s innocence—and as for concequences; Sebol would pay them without the faintest whisper of discontent. He appreciated the rallying words of his room-mate, wondering perhaps if he hadn't completely alienated the man against him after all; though inwardly cringing at his harsh tones surrounding Xiro'el's belonging.
Yet having something of a say in everything was sounding all-together too tempting; even though he wasn’t entirely sure how much the Trader would want said. As luck would have, Xiro’el had no problem admitting the true reason for his visit. Sebolaren’s eyes never left K’var’s face, even when he wasn’t being scrutinized, and when Xiro had finished with his words Sebol added his own without hesitation.
“This wasn’t planned; I was helping with a foaling in the stables so it must have been a temptation—but the fact that he decided to try something other than running himself to death, or leaving the Weyr only to injure himself, convinced me to allow him respite rather than condemnation.”
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RavenSong
Jr. Weyrleader
songct[M:-364]
Posts: 710
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Post by RavenSong on Jun 22, 2011 15:39:30 GMT -5
K'var listened to all three of the boys, then nodded.
"Thank you, Daymar," he said first to the blanket pile. "You can come out if you'd like, it's safe. You're not in trouble and won't be." He poked the flitter on his head. "Bip. Shoo. Silly green." Bip took off and betweened elsewhere, likely back to K'var's weyr.
K'var looked to Xiro'el. "You have no idea how relieved I am to hear that you had no intention of having relations. I'm sure the Weyrlingmasters told you this, but such things can confuse and scare your dragon. Yes, I'm aware that you're a busy man now, with your dragon and all. Why not curl up with Tigreath? I myself found comfort sleeping on Argotath's couch when we were young. Still do sometimes, and he's huge now. While you didn't intend to break any major rules, you did break one by sneaking in here. You're a Weyrling now, Xiro'el. You don't belong in here, regardless of the circumstances, and entering these barracks at night regardless of the intent is against the rules. That will be addressed by the Weyrlingmasters, however, as you are no longer one of my kids." K'var kept his voice even and firm, and his volume low. He was scolding them for sure, but there was no point in letting the entire barracks know the fine details in the situation. K'var looked over his shoulder, then peered out the door. "Go to bed," he ordered, shooing off some as-yet-unseen other Candidates. Once that was done, he turned to Sebolaren.
"As for you," he said, "planned or not, this was a breach of the rules. You're going to be mucking out everything that can be mucked out for the next two sevendays. Runner stalls, herdbeast pens, weyrling barracks, chamber pots... everything. Regardless of the circumstances, your bed is not where anyone but you belongs while you are a Candidate. This is true until you graduate Weyrlinghood. I managed it, so can others. I make no secret of the fact that I... enjoy the company of women. Always have." K'var grinned a bit. "The reason for the vacant bed rule is simple. We have to learn to control ourselves so that we may better handle our dragons. Some dragons are pretty tough. Their emotions can overwrite our own, just look at Riders when Flights happen. I have faith in you, Sebolaren. I think you can manage to make this your only infraction in your Candidacy." K'var smiled then, his easygoing demeanor back. He leaned against the doorframe, watching the boys as he awaited their responses.
Outside, Argotath curled up on the ground outside the Barracks. Mine says Tigreath's only wanted a comfortable place to sleep, he told Seiseth and Kerath. Mine says that Tigreath's can't sleep well and wanted to sleep next to a friend.
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Cathaline
Lady Holder
cathct[M:50]
Posts: 3,279
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Post by Cathaline on Jun 22, 2011 16:37:04 GMT -5
Once he heard the firelizard leave, Daymar slowly poked his head out from underneath the blankets, listening silently to K'var's pronouncement of certain doom. Well, not certain. Xiro'el's fate might be hanging in the balance until his Weyrlingmaster took care of it, but at least if K'var believed him and understood what was going on, it didn't seem that they were going to do something terrible. That was good.
"Flights are a myth," Daymar mumbled to himself, which was something he very much needed to believe right now, thank you very much. The idea of mucking out anything made his stomach turn, and yes, it wasn't his punishment, but what if Sebol tracked things into the room? Of course, that rather depended on Sebol continuing to be his roommate, and that likely wasn't going to happen. It was pretty clear that Daymar was a madman with a mug, and Sebol would probably want no part of that.
With a delicate shudder, he gingerly reached out to set his mug back on the nightstand. He really ought to apologize to Xiro'el for attacking him with it, but that might draw further questioning from K'var. So far as Daymar was aware, none of them had actually lied, but he didn't want to end up saying that Sebol had a tattoo he'd mistaken for a bunch of bugs. Not to mention getting himself in trouble for attacking a weyrling and a fellow Candidate, even though he'd done so out of misinformation.
"The firelizard's not coming back to stare at us, is she?" he asked plaintively. He could probably just sleep buried in the blankets, but suffocation wasn't fun.
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