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Post by coelacanth on May 29, 2011 0:26:28 GMT -5
He'd thought it would be easy. Just aim and shoot.
But Rhys was starting to think otherwise, as he tried to teach himself archery in a nice little niche by himself in the Weyr bowl, one spring afternoon After setting up a target made from a discarded grain sack filled with hay, in a spot not often frequented, he borrowed a bow, some arrows, gloves and an arm guard (which he was finding too sharding tight), and started shooting.
His first arrow missed the sack completely. The second didn't even fly; he failed to nock it properly and it fell somewhere at his feet. And the candidate tried not to think about his third attempt, to keep himself from kicking something.
By the time he'd gotten through just half of his arrows, his cursing had already gone from the simple ("scorch it!"), to the imaginatively foul, to the nonsensically abstract. None of it seemed to be helping. Neither his ego, or his not-quite-serious daydreams of being a hunter, with a wher at his side.
Rhys decided to lower his bow, and take a glance down at the quiver to check on his remaining ammunition. Then, he turned to look around, a glare in his eyes and a snarl on his face to make sure no one had particularly saw what he was doing.
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Rii
Wingleader 
riict[M:420]
RP demon hungers...
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Post by Rii on May 29, 2011 13:38:47 GMT -5
The cursing had him alert at first, and then aghast. He thought the Mastersmiths at Telgar had a good grasp of invective, but Gesseridan had not heard something quite this vicious before. Shells, it had startled him right out of a good idea! His brows furrowed as he looked down at a half-finished concept sketch on the scrap of hide in his lap, and he sighed disappointedly. No, it was gone. Completely gone.
“Shells...” he grumbled, standing and brushing himself off absentmindedly. Well, if he couldn’t think, he may as well see what the source of invective was. A slow but ground-eating stride brought him closer, and then in sight; he halted. The scene before him might have been amusing to some, but he was more puzzled that mirthful at first – what was the other man doing? Understanding after a few moments of observation that he was attempting to teach himself archery, Gess’s puzzlement cleared. Oh, it wasn’t going well, so he was swearing. That made more sense now.
And then the big man turned around and glared. Gess fell back a step instinctively – although not small himself, the would-be archer had at least a hand or so in height on him, he was sure, and had the bulky-muscled look of someone who was a fighter. And Gess really, really didn’t want to fight.
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Post by coelacanth on May 29, 2011 17:15:52 GMT -5
Rhys had worked dockside for a bit when he was younger, where he'd learnt swearing from sailors first hand, and he would probably be pleased to know he'd apparently gotten good at it. But for the moment, his mind was on his failure, rather than his words, and he did the best thing he knew to do to douse his embarrassment: turn the attention to someone else.
When Gess took a step back, the larger man took a step forward. Bovine eyes focused, and he tried to trap the little "spy" with a harsh and unwavering gaze. "What? Think it's funny, do you?" he demanded, licking his teeth, shamefully still all there, like a hungry dog might, just before it bit down on someone.
And with eyes focused, he appraised Gess, looking him over, and was inspired with a small snip, just a fragment, of an idea that began to form in his head, where he'd taken the dragon candidate's idea away from him. But before he put it into motion, he waited to see exactly how the ranking smith would reply to him.
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Rii
Wingleader
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Post by Rii on May 29, 2011 18:55:07 GMT -5
As Rhys took a step forward, matching Gess's step back, the Smith started shaking his head, dreamer's eyes wide. "No. No, not at all. I wouldn't even know how to begin with archery." Of course, apparently the bigger man didn't, either. He takes another step back, swallowing convulsively. His thoughts raced. No fighting, the rules said no fighting, he wouldn't break the rules and hurt me, would he? I don't want to fight oh SHELLS why is he looking at me like that?
Gesseridan was, perhaps, a bit of a coward - but truly, it was more that he recognized he didn't have any real training, talent or experience with... physical disagreements. Or agreements. He preferred avoiding people, and it showed in his body language. Under Rhys's harsh gaze, he appeared to want to be anywhere else... preferably back in the Candidate Barracks, or possibly in the Weyr's forge.
Gess doesn't look the least like the challenging sort. What scars and marks he's earned are from smithing, not fighting or even getting in and out of trouble. He's not flabby at all - there's a strength to those hands and arms - but if it came down to fight or flight, he was going to run like a proddy red was after him. Which, with a second (or third?) step back, he was beginning to prepare to do.
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Post by coelacanth on May 29, 2011 19:14:35 GMT -5
Where was the little spy going? Rhys wasn't done with him, yet. Hadn't even started with him, yet. "I didn't think so," he replied with a grunt. Then his free hand, the one not clenched around the bow, reached up in a beckoning gesture, apparently wanting the smaller smith to stop his retreating and approach. If anyone else was around, his attention was too focused on Gess to have noticed them. "Come help me, will you?"
Frankly, he thought those dreamer's eyes made the dragon candidate look like a space case, though he'd seen stranger eyes before. And journeyman smith, working all with earth and fire, would have been far from his first guess at the man's former occupation. He seemed more like a harper with his head in the clouds, or maybe a flitty runner carrying messages, and Rhys unfavourably judged him as such.
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Rii
Wingleader
riict[M:420]
RP demon hungers...
Posts: 803
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Post by Rii on May 29, 2011 19:29:21 GMT -5
Gesseridan froze on the spot, blinking. "Help you?" He sounded more puzzled than frightened now, though the nervous demeanor continues. The retreat stopped, at least. "How can I help you?"
This was... odd. The threatening man wanted his help? Outside of chores, no one wanted Gess's help. Still, curiosity drew him in, his head quirking as he waited for Rhys to either explain or make some other gesture. He even took a few steps closer, and took a closer look at the would-be hunter. Maybe he looked more threatening than he was? Stranger things had happened lately. Like... well... being Searched three sevendays after reaching a new posting in Western. That counted as strange.
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Post by coelacanth on May 29, 2011 19:55:19 GMT -5
"That's right," Rhys confirmed, glad the older candidate had finally stopped his retreating. "Come help me." For Gess's benefit, he actually did gesture, and then explain. "With gathering the arrows." They'd gone all over the place, not very many hitting the target, and certainly none hitting it in the centre. And if he could conscript someone else into picking them all up for him, to save himself the trouble, he'd certainly try.
"And then," he continued, "with shooting." Because if he could prove to himself that it hadn't just been him that was awful by making his potential new recruit shoot at the target, he'd certainly try that, too. He crossed his thick arms as best he could while the borrowed bow, and again waited to see whether the smaller, nervous-looking man would do as he asked or not.
The would-be hunter didn't really look like someone most would care cross, but yes, looks could be deceiving. That glare was still in his fiery bull eyes, though, and the Southern smith was still not used to the weather, so the fur he wore around the collar of his cloak, which had come from some animal or other with its face clearly visible, made him look a rather wild.
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Rii
Wingleader
riict[M:420]
RP demon hungers...
Posts: 803
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Post by Rii on May 29, 2011 20:10:07 GMT -5
Gess walks closer, certainly willing enough to help gather the arrows. But... shooting? His brows furrow, protesting meekly. "I don't... I don't know how. Wouldn't it be better to find a teacher?" The glare made him consider turning tail and running again. The other man just looked so... angry! Still, Gess couldn't let himself get walked all over - he was a JOURNEYMAN, by Faranth, and some people would have to look up to him as a teacher sometime... well, if they were trying to learn smithcraft.
Trying to give himself a little bit of confidence, he reached up to straighten the knots on his arm with one hand, the half-finished and aborted sketch on its piece of hide still crumpled between his long, burn-scarred fingers. There. The knots and colors that announced to the world that he had walked the tables as a Smith. He wasn't sure that rank counted for anything - and he couldn't see anything to identify what Rhys was - but it helped HIM feel a little less small.
"I really think that would be best..." Reaching the other man's side, Gess tilted his head back to look up into those angry bovine eyes.
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Post by coelacanth on May 29, 2011 20:49:59 GMT -5
"No," was really all Rhys had to say to Gesseridan in reply to the teacher suggestion. He simply indicated that it was time for arrow gathering with a jut of his chin, and reached down to pick up that second one that had fallen at his feet, settling it back into the half empty quiver, before he started to remove that pinching leather arm guard, uselessly meant to protect him from the bowstring.
Whether or not the ranking smith decided to indeed help him or not, asked, "You new around here?" He hadn't seen the man before, he didn't think, in the smithy or out, and noted the knots and scarring with a surprised silence. One that quickly turned into a strange sort of disappointed satisfaction at being able to make his would-be boss seem so sharding nervous.
He'd abandoned his own apprentice badge and knots when he'd joined the wher programme, and given that no one had yet given him a yelling at for it, hadn't really looked at the things since. It was something that, just then, he wasn't regretting in the least. It made him feel almost free. Almost. Though he didn't think his uncle would be particularly proud.
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Rii
Wingleader
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RP demon hungers...
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Post by Rii on May 29, 2011 21:05:09 GMT -5
Gesseridan shrugs. "If you say so. I don't think you'll get very far on your own, though." Oblivious to the possibility of offense in his observation, the smith turned away, scooping up an arrow as he trudged off towards the next one. Rhys reminded him of some of his fellow apprentices in Telgar - touchy as a fresh-branded cartbeast and just as solid. He'd earned a knock or two before learning that he tended to be ignored if he didn't talk. That might be best here as well.
Apparently, however, the tempered one didn't intend for him to stay silent. Biting his lip momentarily, he replied. "I just arrived this sevenday. I... I guess I'll be standing for Callistath's clutch. And probably the ones after it." The words tumbled over each other as if he believed the thoughts linked to them would be lost if he didn't get them out quickly enough. "My name's Gesseridan," he added, turning back. "What about you?"
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Post by coelacanth on May 29, 2011 21:22:08 GMT -5
Rhys's teeth clenched, apparently offended, indeed. "I'll get as far as I care to," he spat back, thinking that it might actually be correct, because his care for arrows had rapidly crumbled with all of his bad shots. Who needed to be a sharding hunter, anyway? He'd be a guardsman with his wher, and hunt people with a spear or a sword, and fight them close up and personal. Not like some silly coward striking from a safe distance. Yeah, that's what he'd do. Like he'd always done.
But his anger left him as soon as it came, like a fire that had sprung up and gone out too soon. "I figured you'd be here for the flamethrowers," he remarked. Which had actually been why he was in Dalibor, before he'd fixated on the whers. "I'm trying to get a wheret, but none are clutching right now. You really like dragons?" He was less fond. And Waroth hadn't helped get the idea that dragons were stuck up out of his head, even if part of him liked her.
Eventually, the journeyman might have noticed that the apprentice was standing around doing sweet scorch all, while he cleaned up the younger man's mess. But Rhys doesn't try to help him come to that conclusion.
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Rii
Wingleader
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Post by Rii on May 29, 2011 22:13:41 GMT -5
Gess paused, quirking his head in a rather... birdlike fashion, studying Rhys with a dreamy thoughtfulness. It was not a comfortable sort of gaze to be under - a little like being picked apart and rebuilt to suit the shorter smith. He rolled an arrow between his fingers by the shaft, feeling the texture of the wood. "I've done some maintenance work for the flamethrowers. It's been part of my chores. Mostly they're in good shape, the smiths here have done a good job."
His face lights in a small smile. "I do like dragons. They're fascinating. The whers are interesting too... so specialized for what they do. So determined." The task, if not abandoned, has been momentarily forgotten in the path of thought. "Their night vision and sense of smell are supposed to be phenomenal." Gesseridan's mobile face contorts in a frown. "Though they're terribly light-sensitive. I wonder what it's like, to never be able to stand the light of the sun."
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Post by coelacanth on May 29, 2011 22:41:05 GMT -5
The gaze made Rhys curious, wondering what exactly the journeyman was imagining about him, rather than prompting further anger. But instead of asking, because asking outright meant that he actually cared what anyone else thought, he simply snorted, letting out the comment, "You must figure you're so smart."
Then he reached down to pick up shot number three. The one that had somehow managed to go backwards, and wondered how that was even possible. "So what's so fascinating about dragons, anyway?" A hint of his curiosity made it into his voice, really wondering what others saw in the things. "They're big, but that doesn't make you fascinating. They're even more stuck up and hierarchical than humans are, which makes them irritating. Yet they're completely dependent on us for everything."
He shrugged. "I guess breathing fire counts for a lot, but firelizards and whers can do that, too. And humans can make flamethrowers for themselves. That leaves, what? Flying?"
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Rii
Wingleader
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RP demon hungers...
Posts: 803
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Post by Rii on May 29, 2011 22:54:50 GMT -5
"Flying," he agreed mildly. "Going between. They're frequently far more intelligent than given credit for, from what I've heard at least... I can't say I've talked to many dragons yet. Or any." Gess shrugged at that.
"They have a larger flame and can sustain it longer than a wher or firelizard, which, given their abilities in flight, makes them the most efficient for fighting Thread." Gess seemed to be giving the question a fair amount of serious thought. "And for all their hierarchy, they have a wonderful capacity for teamwork and enviable unity of purpose. I only wish humans did so well." His lips are touched with a whimsical smile, thoughts ranging elsewhere.
Bringing himself back to the present, Gess resumed the task of picking up arrows. Suddenly he realized he still didn't have the wher candidate's name. "Ah... what's your name?"
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Post by coelacanth on May 29, 2011 23:10:49 GMT -5
The failed archer answered simply. "Rhys." That didn't interest him. In fact, he seemed a little baffled by the other's wish. "But why? Conflict and differing purposes are one of the things I like most about humans," he admitted. If he had his way? Everyone would be fighting everyone else, all the time, forever. The thought made him smile; the first time he smiled around Gess. "Don't want to have a...what do you call it? A hive mind, you know. Do you?"
But then, dangerously, he started to get back into shooting position, going to stand about thirty paces in front of the grain sack target. All he really needed was for the few remaining arrows picked up, and then he could watch someone else fail, and soothe his ego. The ego which he thought was left in the dust somewhere by where that third, backwards arrow had landed. How was that even possible?
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Rii
Wingleader
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RP demon hungers...
Posts: 803
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Post by Rii on May 30, 2011 12:22:58 GMT -5
Gesseridan frowned. Unlike Rhys, he did not like conflict. For one, he was terrible at it – he only wanted to be left alone with his work and dreams. For another, it went against what he felt was right... that people should be able to pursue their ideas, as long as it didn’t harm others. Certainly it would be bad if EVERY idea was pursued, but Gess was all too familiar with people who snuffed out those small, twinkling thoughts just because they weren’t traditional. Or weren’t necessary. Or didn’t agree with how they liked things to be.
No... everyone thinking the same way would be bad. It would be boring. He nodded, conceding the point. Gess wasn’t sure that they meant the same thing about unity, but he was afraid to debate it and set off the temperate Rhys more. He picked up a few more arrows and looked around. That looked like all of them. Trudging back to the wher candidate, he offered the cluster in his hand to him. And hoped that Rhys had forgotten all about trying to get Gess to make a fool of himself. I do that plenty already, without trying to do things I know I can’t do without direction.
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Post by coelacanth on May 30, 2011 14:42:12 GMT -5
Rhys sighed, given only a nod and a frown. That was too easy. When the arrows were returned to him, he counted them out, making sure none had gone missing, or that too many hadn't broken. Then he slipped them back into the borrowed quiver, all except one, and went to remove the shooting glove, like he'd done with the miserable arm guard. Holding them out to Gesseridan, he supposed they won't be so tight on the journeyman as they were on him.
"Now, 's your turn," he announced, as though that weren't obvious. When -- if -- the other finished gearing up, Rhys would hold out the bow for him, and that single arrow. There really wasn't much sport in it, Gess really was too easy, but it was still sort of satisfying to the apprentice-turned-wher-candidate, big bully that he was, to be able to see the journeyman-turned-dragon-candidate do as told. And without all that much apparent effort, at that.
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Rii
Wingleader
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Post by Rii on May 30, 2011 16:58:23 GMT -5
Gesseridan favored Rhys with a slow blink, nonplussed. Apparently Rhys hadn't forgotten this odd idea of making Gess try to shoot. And there was something in those sullen eyes that Gess didn't like - something he was wary of. Well... he wasn't going to. He didn't want to shoot, and he didn't have to. His mouth firmed in a sudden flash of stubbornness, mood shifting from ...huh...? to no.
"No... no thanks," he replied, voice soft but firm. "I don't think I'd ever use archery. Even - um - if I had to defend myself, it would probably be hand to hand, really..." Gess's eyes half-focused elsewhere as he considered the possibility, "or maybe with a belt knife." Of course, he couldn't see why anyone would attack him, now that he thought of it. Gesseridan usually stayed away from people, where he could be nice and safe with his craft and his tinkering. Who would ever have cause to challenge him over anything?
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Post by coelacanth on May 30, 2011 17:16:04 GMT -5
Gess was becoming more of a challenge? Rhys didn't really mind. It was like some red flag had been waved in front of his herdbeast eyes. He moved sideways a step, dropped the gloves, and reached out his free hand again, this time to try and catch it companionably on the other's shoulder. So he couldn't run. He didn't want his new friend taking off, till he'd let fly at least one arrow.
"Just one little shot," coaxed the brute's voice, an underlying tone of command in it. "Nothing's going to happen, you know?" Or at least the pair could hope. "So there ain't no harm in it. Should always expand your horizons and all that." And then the borrowed bow was pressed a bit closer to the journeyman, so he could take it easily. And he would take it, right? Rhys could hope.
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Rii
Wingleader
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Post by Rii on May 30, 2011 18:07:27 GMT -5
Gess frowned. He didn't like this, not at all. It was time to leave. Taking a step back, he wrenched with his shoulder to try and free it - he was stronger than he looked, but was he stronger than this muscle-bound fighter? Maybe if he wasn't stronger he was faster... but if he fled from this scene, got marked as a coward, what dragon would want him? How could he be any good to the Weyr?
The journeyman inhaled and drew himself up to his full height of still-shorter-than-Rhys, his brows drawing together obstinately. "Thank you, but I'm really not interested. Good luck in learning, Rhys, and in Impressing a wher." His voice still quivered faintly, but what was that? Gess had made him stand up for himself, well, as best he could when he was used to just ducking his head and pretending something hadn't happened. Now it was time to shard off and get out of here.
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Post by coelacanth on May 30, 2011 18:33:16 GMT -5
Not interested? He was being denied his fun? Rhys's expression soured and then turned back to that snarling rage. "No, after I offered? That's insulting," he stated finally really wanting to hit the other smith, rather than just entertaining vague thoughts in that direction. He probably should have just left it, and simply watched Gess walk off with a foul gesture at his back, or maybe even tried to coax him a bit more. But unfortunately for them both (mostly the journeyman), he didn't always think with his head, and figured the other's limits had been tested and found.
"Don't like being insulted." And that's when he attempted to strike. The bow was dropped, and his hands reached out in a surprisingly fluid motion. Not in any false companionship, but this time to try and shove poor Gess, and roughly, straight into the dirt. If he had been seeing anything but that red flag, he'd probably be a bit proud at the bit of backbone. It was something he'd normally admire. But with the shame of his failure, and his chance to make himself feel better about it gone, well...
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Rii
Wingleader
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Post by Rii on May 30, 2011 18:54:18 GMT -5
The shove shouldn't have caught him by surprise. It shouldn't have, but it did. Gesseridan hit the ground hard, in a full-length sprawl that made the contents of his various belt pouches jangle with a muted clinkclinkclinkrattle. He felt stunned, and not just because the air had been knocked out of him. The young man hadn't been physically bullied for Turns, not since he'd started work on his journeyman's projects.
Gess turned over to look up, dreamer's eyes wide and startled. Rhys thought he had insulted him? But... he hadn't meant any insult! He just didn't want to make a fool of himself. Or try to learn something useless. Especially trying to teach himself something useless with no idea how to start. And he'd been polite about it, hadn't he? Baffled, he blurted out what - in retrospect - was probably a stupid question.
"Shells! W-what was that for?!"
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Ruin
Wingrider 
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Post by Ruin on May 30, 2011 20:21:27 GMT -5
Sebolaren found himself walking into the far reaches of the bowl, further than he could typically be found broodwalking—today however; his mind was full of hatching thoughts. It felt like an eternity had passed since he’d been at Dalibor, not a handful of sevendays—yet here he was. Slung casually over his shoulder were the bits and pieces of his wardrobe that often managed to get soiled from his stable chores: He never considered bothering someone else to do work he could easily accomplish himself—and he always planned his walks around easily accessible freshwater where he could scrub away the worst with his hands. His sharp eyes caught the vague shapes of two people near the far corner of the bowl: Though many said he was long in the eye, they were at such a distance that it still took time to stride within range of recognizing the shorter boy as Gesseridan—a recognition that coincided with the taller boy—whom Sebolaren did not know—shoving the nervous tinkerer violently. His nervous tinkerer.
A protective rage flared up violently within the pit of Sebol’s chest, and felt as if it was lighting fire to his very being. Though he had met Gesseridan but once, and words had not been spoken between them at great length, Sebol felt a connection to the man that went beyond words—more than that, he knew his fellow Candidate to be; not only good natured, but also prone to anxiety. What type of person would push such a man down—what type of Weyrman, would be the better question. He could not be a Candidate for Callistath’s clutch, because most of those Sebol had at least seen through various activities since he arrived…so who? He shrugged his shoulder to better seat his clothing on it as he strode forward, only then realizing that—should be a Rider or a Journeyman or a Master, his knot would be well covered—and that at least might allow him to distract the pair before any further damage could be done.
“Candidates!” It was a bellow—unmistakable as a command; though none had been given. He steeled his face—allowing the anger he had felt to ebb and slowly wash away within him, knowing it would get him nowhere—assuming his best Master-is-very-disappointed-with-his-apprentices face. He had seen that one often enough to know it by heart. Though inside his mind was still racing: If the large man responded perhaps he was a Candidate—though to whom, or what?
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Post by coelacanth on May 30, 2011 21:15:45 GMT -5
"For being an insulting little nosebleed," Rhys replied to the downed man, waiting for him to get up again, quite possibly so he could hit him a few more times, and knock him right back down a few more times, too. Which was just about the only thing he really felt like doing, just at that moment. Besides yelling, that was, though he thought yelling might attract too much attention.
But then someone else had yelled, and it wasn't Gess, luckily for the little head-in-the-clouds dreamer. Rhys jerked his head up, looking at the newcomer angrily. Especially for that look on Sebolaren's face, which just seemed like it said "I'm your superiour." And coming from anyone who wasn't his mentor, especially from someone who couldn't have been more than three turns his elder? He just wasn't buying it.
"Who're you?" he demanded, keeping one eye on the other smith, to make sure he still wasn't going anywhere. He didn't know that the two knew each other, so he doesn't immediately peg Sebol as Gess's rescuer. Just some spoil-sport who happened along, and wanted to further ruin his fun. Just like the journeyman smith had done.
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Rii
Wingleader
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Post by Rii on May 30, 2011 21:38:44 GMT -5
Gesseridan was slow to even start picking himself back up - but pick himself back up he did, when he heard the bellow of "Candidates!" His immediate thought was that he was in trouble. He had no idea what he possibly could have done wrong, but he was in trouble nonetheless.
Oh shards, what did I do, do they think we're fighting...? His thoughts scrambled along with his body as he brought himself upright and turned. And blinked. That's... Sebolaren! What's he doing here? In his shock, he completely had forgotten being knocked down, Rhys's insistance on getting him to shoot, everything. Lips slightly parted in confusion, Gess stood there in his rumpled clothing - now smeared with dust and dirt - and stared, trying to settle his thoughts enough to sort out just what was going on.
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