Azhdarchid
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Post by Azhdarchid on May 7, 2011 17:06:10 GMT -5
For a long time before Rukbat leaned over the eastern wall, the Weyr lake's water had been reflecting the predominant red of the dawn. Purple-bellied clouds bruised the corners of the open sky, their reflections clotting the lake below. Qosis stood on the lake-edge, wide awake.
He had not, as his broad, bolstering stance and present stillness suggested, been playing sentinel over the still waters all night. He had only just arrived, and closer scrutiny could detect the heavy rises and falls of his chest as he breathed out his exertions. Still dressed in his Hatching finery, which bore remarkable resemblance to his everyday clothing, he had taken to every grounded corner of the Weyr in the dark. Pacing, running; he made passes at the storage caverns where there were goods to lift and pull into place, but stayed at least that part of his compulsion. He would do no one any good trying to rearrange the stores in the dark.
Stopping to look over a boring hole of cold water had not been his foremost desire, but he had to. If he did not stop moving, he might really work himself to injury this time. At every moment Qosis was aware he might look foolish or crazed, jogging about the Weyr in twilight, ignoring his bedfurs for crisp Winter air that bit the back of his throat when he inhaled. What he felt was rarely part of the equation. He looked down his own body, tracing the muscle of his arms beneath green sleeves.
The deaths of the previous night were a collective effort by Dalibor. Even him, for not being fast enough or self-sacrificial enough. But especially the ladies of the Sands, the masters of fortune at any Hatching. Especially the one that was mother to... The trader swallowed. Nothing he could do now. His hands and legs were unbound in this hour, but the abomination had already been accomplished. He was not about to deny someone else the light of the new day.
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Post by alix on May 7, 2011 17:28:22 GMT -5
Malissa was, frankly, tired. Deathly tired. Maybe that was why she was feeling a little less torn up by grief now than she had immediately after the Hatching; she was too tired to be sad. She'd not slept long enough, and then the hours since her wakeup call had been... traumatic, to say the least. Yet... she didn't regret getting out of bed when she had.
It had been terrible to witness Damask's rampage on the Sands, but she had kept her promise to her best friends, and she had gotten to see both of them Impress. And... clapping for his Impression was the closest thing she'd gotten to a farewell to Delgar. She'd have regretted it for the rest of her life if she'd missed out on that.
Which, she supposed, meant she owed the candidate who'd woken them all some sort of gratitude. And, uncharitable as the thought was, she wasn't convinced anyone else would remember to, in the light of the tragedy that had gone down. She had almost forgotten.
And so, she had gone looking for Qosis, once she'd left Damali and Damask to sleep. Admittedly, her searching was haphazard, so it was more luck than skill or even perseverance that lead to her spotting a tall form that she thought might be him down by the lake. She approached the figure slowly, and stopped some six or eight feet away. If he had his own demons to deal with after the Hatching, she didn't want to intrude if she could avoid it.
"Qosis?" She didn't speak his name very loudly, but the morning wasn't very loud, either. It ought to be loud enough.
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Azhdarchid
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Post by Azhdarchid on May 7, 2011 22:26:36 GMT -5
His lips twitched as the sound of his name crawled across the air to his ear. Someone, calling to him by name. There were only so many people that had reason, and at this hour... Sunlight lit the edges of his pale brown hair, his black beard, his green jacket as he turned to greet his caller. The blue shadows holding constant sentry beneath his eyes were pressed deeper by the evening's events. He was never a man of ill health or fair skin, but on this particular morning the visible parts of his face and hands appeared waxen and drained.
"Girl," he answered after a moment of consideration that involved examining Malissa's figure in her Winter clothes, the length of her hair, and the fragile heart of her jawline. Qosis trudged away from the water's edge. "Did the Candidatemaster send you?" he asked as he stopped in front of her, the change of distance rapidly altering the angle at which he had to hold his head to see her. "He need not worry. I've been good. I haven't been celebrating." A nasty twist of a smile crossed his face, then cleared as he squinted at her. "Wait...I know you. You tried to sneak in with that brat to see the eggs. Your name...what is your name?" He tilted his head at the mystery Candidate. "What do you want?"
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Post by alix on May 8, 2011 3:16:54 GMT -5
A crease formed, briefly, between Malissa's eyebrows as the much-bigger Candidate turned around. He looked like he'd seen better days, and it was in her nature to feel some concern. Then again, most people who'd seen that Hatching probably would. The girl herself was all but teetering on her feet, exhausted by emotion and lack of sleep both. Well, she could sleep after she'd completed her business here.
Craning her head back to meet his gaze (she'd much rather have kept her head down, but you didn't thank people's feet for favors they'd done you) didn't really help her balance; she tried to be discreet about taking a half-step back with one foot to brace herself. She shook her head 'no' to his first question, and was about to open her mouth to elaborate that she'd not even seen the Candidatemaster, just to press her lips together into a thin line when he mentioned celebration. Right now, that notion left a bad taste in her mouth, as did his choice of words for describing Delgar.
"We weren't really sneaking," she protested, very softly.
She couldn't ignore a direct question, though, however abrasive Qosis was being; that kind of behavior wasn't in her. He was probably shaken, same as everyone else, and this was his way of dealing with it, for all she knew. "Malissa. I... I just wanted to thank you. For waking everyone up. That was very thoughtful of you."
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Azhdarchid
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Post by Azhdarchid on May 8, 2011 14:35:14 GMT -5
"I suppose you weren't. You did walk right up to me. Very considerate of you," Qosis mused in a way that should have been accompanied by a chuckle, but he was not up to it. His eyebrows swept upward at her reasoning. "Oh." Qosis stared at her, then as if strengthened by her meek presentation, smiled. "Follow me," he demanded.
He turned his back to her and moved toward the bridge linking the east and west sides of the water. "Come on," he said again, his voice strengthening on every word. He started to thump his thigh with one hand, but at the last second withdrew his palm to a more respectful stillness. "Malissa! Let's go!" he barked, then allowed his voice to drop to conversational levels as he strolled. He did not really control his pace to let her keep up easily, but he did wait till she was close to speak. "I'm going to get some klah. You need some too," he explained. The cooks would have breakfast almost ready too, but he had no interest in eating despite the dire emptiness of his stomach.
The trader looked back at her. "You're welcome," he added suddenly, his return on gratitude utterly inexperienced. "I need your help to get the klah. They do not let me in the kitchens anymore. So just walk in, make like a drudge, and get two mugs for us."
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Post by alix on May 10, 2011 12:43:36 GMT -5
Malissa wasn't entirely sure how to interpret Qosis's response; it wasn't what she'd have expected. Was he just not used to people showing him basic manners? His request that she come with him was equally unexpected (the previous times he'd interacted with her he had been pretty quick to dismiss her), and it took her sleep-deprived brain a few moments to go from standing still to starting to follow him. What might he have that he wanted to show her, all of a sudden?
When he raised his voice, she broke into a jog with a small yelp, not sure if she'd inadvertently offended him by her somewhat ponderous start. Even when she caught up she had to walk some steps and jog some to keep up on her short legs, but that didn't become her much. She'd always been short, and having to hurry to keep up with taller people was nothing new. And, when she heard his reasoning, she was touched by his consideration; it was kind of him to make some sort of effort to take care of her, by making sure she got something in her.
His acknowledgement of her gratitude was late enough that it took her a few moments - that crease between her eyebrows making a temporary return - to connect it back to what they'd been speaking about by the lake. Once she did, though, she smiled up at him. It wasn't a very wide, or very happy smile; tired and kind was the best she could manage, but she was genuinely glad he'd understood she (like all the other Candidates, she assumed) appreciated his efforts.
The notion that he might be talking down to her, or using her in any way to get the klah he wanted, didn't even occur to her. If he wasn't welcome in the kitchens (surely a misunderstanding!), she would be happy to help him out. "Alright. I'll be right back."
True to her word, she returned as soon as she could manage without spilling the klah, bearing the requested two mugs and a pair of fresh-baked rolls some kitchen worker had pushed on her, insisting that such a small girl needed to eat.
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Azhdarchid
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Post by Azhdarchid on May 10, 2011 15:12:19 GMT -5
The trader nodded as Malissa confirmed her help, watching her move off down the tunnel to the kitchen caverns. When she was out of his eyesight, Qosis sank down onto one of the stone benches by the entrance. His legs turned sore as they relaxed, a similar pulling complaint moving up his back to protest a night absent all convention. Alone, he stared at the rock across from him and by the time Malissa returned one of his heels was bouncing against the floor. It was not out of impatience. When he spotted her the motion stopped, and he held out one arm so she could guide the proper mug into his hand.
"There's a good girl," he murmured appreciatively, pulling the mug to his lips so he could blow across the surface. That was all the precaution Qosis accounted before he began drinking, bringing up his empty hand to block any offers of rolls as soon as he spotted them. Mouth fixed to the mug, he jerked his head to the remainder of the bench space at his side. He did not talk further as he worked his way down the drink. The klah did not just vanish down his throat. Its cinnamon scent infused his every intake of breath, and he imagined it circling his chest, bracing him.
He looked at the other Candidate once when his mug was half-empty, and then leaned back when the klah was completely gone and regarded her steadily as he set his empty cup between them. "Did your little friend even wake for his own Hatching? I didn't see him there."
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Post by alix on May 11, 2011 6:52:12 GMT -5
The girl passed her unlikely companion one of the mugs, and shrugged when he refused the roll. If he didn't want it, she wasn't going to force him to eat it. He was being a lot more pleasant than she'd expected of him from their previous (if brief) interactions, and so she had absolutely no objections to sitting down next to him. She would have done so anyway simply because he asked, but his manners meant she didn't need to convince herself.
So she returned the roll she'd been about to offer him to a pocket, and sat down, holding her mug in both hands and sipping slowly from it, enjoying the klah more for the way it made the mug heat her hands, than for its taste. Now and again she glanced sidewards at Qosis, privately wondering at his suggestion that she sit down, since he didn't seem to want to talk, after all.
Then, when he did talk, he couldn't have done a better job of twisting the knife of grief lodged in her heart if he'd tried. The mug slipped out of her hands, miraculously not breaking as it clattered to the hard floor, and spilled its contents over her feet. I didn't see him there. The audacity of such a lie, easily overshadowing the dismissive way he spoke of her best friend, was beyond even Malissa's considerable skill at self-deception to rationalize.
She stood up, stood in front of the trader, and looked at him, eyes narrowed in hurt and anger. "You saw him." And she saw, for her inner eye, even without her firelizard's help, Qosis bending over the boy's broken body. "You saw him! You stole his knife, and you're telling me you didn't even see him!" What had he wanted with the knife, when he'd approached the Sands, anyway? To steal one of the wherets for his own? That was an ungracious enough thought she wouldn't voice it, even in her small-but-righteous rage.
"It's ungracious enough to call the dead names," she continued, tears running down her cheeks again, in what for her was unusually sharp a tone, "without picking over their pockets before they even stop bleeding. That knife wasn't yours to take." The impulse she'd had, up there on the Stands, when she'd first seen him, returned, and she gave in to it, giving the much-taller candidate an ineffective kick in the shins, before holding her hand out to him. "Give me Delgar's knife back. His family should have it. Not... you."
If it had only been for her own sake, she would probably have borne the insult of it all. But this was Delgar, and he couldn't defend himself anymore. For once in her life, Malissa was quite sure she had a good reason to call someone whose motivations she wasn't sure of to task over their behavior.
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Azhdarchid
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Post by Azhdarchid on May 11, 2011 16:47:12 GMT -5
When Malissa's mug clattered to the floor, Qosis immediately bent down to retrieve it. He settled the object on the bench beside his own, then looked up with considerable surprise at the small, outraged face before him. His eyes widened at the accusation, then lost all their alertness to confusion as something pressed against his leg. He looked down and saw her foot just setting back to the ground.
"What..." Qosis lifted his head a little to consider the empty palm in his face. He blinked toward the shine of moisture descending the girl's cheeks. Making room in his expression for a frown of concern, he lifted his right hand from the bench and set it over hers. He returned nothing but his own touch. It was the same for his left hand, clutching hers from below. In the cage of his brown fingers, her hand could almost disappear entirely. But he placed no pressure in his hold, no attempt to keep her there.
The trader did not rise onto his feet. Though the situation might have recommended it, doing so would place him in another form of advantage over his accuser. So he remained seated, their faces closer to the same level that way. "It is at the bottom of the lake." Best to get the lies out of the way first. "I did not see past the blood. I did not know him enough." He would not have recalled Delgar's face even if it had been presented in pristine condition, under bright sunlight. "Do you understand? I was thinking only of the creature that killed him then. It was murdering the babies too. I wanted to stop it. So yes, I took the knife. Nothing else. But I could not make good on my one chance and so I am only a thief."
Qosis' gaze locked to Malissa's, brows lifting in appeal. "I admit I never paid much attention to the Wher Candidates. I was there to see the whers. I have my own interests and clearly they have clouded due respect for my fellow man. I did not mean to hurt you, nor dishonor your friend. He did bond just before, didn't he? To that Green. If death is thrust upon you, it is better that it happens when you are a whole person and that no part of you is left behind." He would not intimate that Delgar died in any state of joy. He did not even know if the boy had managed to seal his Impression in blood. But that one sentiment, on wholeness: he knew that was true.
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Post by alix on May 12, 2011 10:45:53 GMT -5
She'd expected anything but that calm, collected, concerned denial. In the perfect world that life currently was working so hard to convince her could never be real, he would have returned the stolen knife, she'd have forgiven him, and they'd have gone their separate ways. In the crazy, violent world that had been intruding on her rose-tinted vision of reality since the red's egg cracked open, she'd have expected him to respond to her accusation, however righteous, with anger.
But he only seemed confused, and concerned. His large hands didn't press the requested item into her palm, but he touched her gently, and he explained his actions without placing blame on her for jumping to conclusions. Explained them, and didn't make excuses. She bit her lip, suddenly ashamed for her outburst. Of course he'd had a good reason. And so, her final whispered protest was meek, at best, "It was still not yours to lose. And Damask is Damali's." Whether he'd wanted to kill or somehow force Impression on the red didn't matter. He'd obviously thought himself to have good reason for it, and it was only loyalty to her newly-bonded friend that made her say anything at all.
So he... hadn't known it had been Delgar that had died? And now that she'd told him (in the most blunt, accusatory way possible), he was expressing regret, and sympathy, and understanding. Of course people could get blind to everything but what they were currently focusing on, sometimes; she could forgive that. Slowly, she inclined her head. "He did. I... I'm sorry. I shouldn't have yelled at you when I didn't know your side of the story."
Sure, what she'd seen had been very incriminating. But he'd realized where he'd gone wrong, and he'd admitted it, and so she would forgive and ask his forgiveness for her own outburst in turn.
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Azhdarchid
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Post by Azhdarchid on May 13, 2011 11:20:23 GMT -5
"Damask," Qosis repeated. His apologetic gaze went a little unfocused, then returned to Malissa. "Damali is a friend of yours too." It was not quite a question, but he waited on her response briefly before noting his own conclusion: "You are the one that sends her to the infirmary." He lifted his right hand off of hers, using it to move the empty klah mugs down the bench a ways. Then his left hand wrapped more securely about her wrist and pulled her in to be seated beside him. "Not that you hurt her. You tell her to get her stitches when she otherwise would not. You look out for her."
His arm slid over her shoulders like the velvet-skinned body of a 'snake. Just a twitch of his strength was enough for a reassuring squeeze. Just a twinge of his memory was enough to pretend this was one of his little nieces, who for some reason needed more comforting than the older trader women. Teenage spirits, perhaps. "I forgive you. You are good to your friends. I will not be taking Damask from anyone." Now that the Red was bound for life, she would invariably become less potent. If Damali was up to it. But the notion of monstrosity was still lodged in his chest like a knife shard. He could not abandon it for any killer of whers. "You said you knew the boy's family?" he started, but corrected his idea in progress. "Well-- the Weyr would have sent its own correspondence by now, if they are capable of any organization at all."
He squinted down at the other Candidate. "You tired yet? They will give us a Rest today for sure."
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Post by alix on May 14, 2011 8:21:59 GMT -5
Malissa nodded at the first of Qosis's assertions. Yes, Damali was her friend. And the second one. Yes, she sent Damali off to the Infirmary now and again, even when the wher candidate, now wherling, didn't want to go. When he pulled her in next to him, she yielded to the wordless instruction without resisting - and why would she? He wasn't a bad person, and he wanted her seated there, and that was all the reason she needed to comply. Those moments ago, when she'd been angry, she might have resisted, but those moments were gone, the misunderstanding cleared up. "She's my friend. It's what friends do."
When his arm slid over her shoulders, she responded by leaning into his side, just a little. She didn't mean to get familiar, but she was starting to feel her too-few hours of sleep in earnest. Hopefully he wouldn't mind; if he'd mind he wouldn't have held her like that, anyway, would he? Her lips turned into a tired smile as he spoke his forgiveness. All was right in the world, then. As right as things could be, suddenly having no Delgar in it.
She half-shrugged. "They're at Ista. Delgar talks... talked... about them a lot." It had been almost like knowing them, but she couldn't honestly say she'd actually known his family. "The knife was a gift from them. Maybe..." She yawned, and it felt disrespectful to do so, but she really couldn't help it. "Maybe I'll ask Jerrith if Magpie could look for it in the lake."
When he asked if she was tired, she nodded, and might've leaned a little more heavily against him, as if admitting it made her feel it that much more keenly. "Should probably get back to the barracks."
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Azhdarchid
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Post by Azhdarchid on May 14, 2011 11:58:02 GMT -5
"I am not sure how much swimming Magpie will be up to in this season," Qosis said, attempting to coach Malissa off the idea. It would be a waste of time, after all. And the firelizard might be capable of drowning itself in its earnestness. He was not sure. He had never investigated the aquatic properties of the species. "Or how long he can hold his breath."
Black firelizards, Istans and whers. He only remembered now that the Istan blonde with the compulsive Pink flit had managed to bond somewhere in the bloodbath. Her wheret had been even smaller than a Green, with inky hide. A male. But she had seemed like such a kind and genuine person. His heart beat unpleasant patterns in his chest as he tried to justify the situation. With so many whers dead before they could investigate mates, there were bound to be some unnatural Impressions. At least he would no longer see Kire moving about in chores, or in the daylight at all. But he would not have her to listen to his stories, either.
Qosis looked down at the girl slowly collapsing against him. "Should," he repeated softly, without commitment, noticing how much she resembled Kire. Not in the face entirely, but she had the same body that seemed too small to achieve anything. Similar light hair, though Kire kept hers under better control. And a like tendency toward sweetness, and gullibility. Nothing about her spoke of any deceit or corruption.
Nor did he see anything that told him she would survive Threadfall if one of the darting Greens that occupied most of the Weyr claimed her. Qosis tried to watch her face, but it was bent against his side and not telling him anything in her state of near-sleep anyway. Dragons were different from whers. If this one took any male at all-- well, the Weyr had its perversions. Thankfully they were rare. The only discomfort came from never knowing who was what until the eggs cracked. His arm tightened around Malissa's body, not so firm as to cause harm but to keep her closer, like he could protect her from all the wrong beasts that might seek Impression. And from the Reds that might tear her or the Greens that might sling her onto a battlefield she would never be ready for.
He sat there, waiting for her to succumb to her dreams, his eyes open wider than before. He was aware now that he would not sleep at all today. There were too many dangers to think about. "Malissa?" he asked again, testing this time to see if she was gone far enough to be carried home...home? The barracks? A single breathy chuckle left his lips.
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Post by alix on May 15, 2011 6:45:28 GMT -5
"I'll..." Another yawn. "Ask Jerrith." She was touched by the older Candidate's concern for the firelizard, but she assumed that if looking for something in the lake was beyond the black's abilities, his owner would know. She did know he looked for things, shiny things, a lot - who didn't? - and she was pretty sure a knife could qualify as shiny unless it spent enough time on the bottom of the lake to rust.
She let herself lean against the boy's side, feeling about as committed to the idea of getting up and walking back to the barracks as he sounded. "Mmmh." She wasn't going to fall asleep, not here, not like this, but it was a nice enough way to rest a little bit before taking up that monumental task of getting back to the bed she'd left what felt like Turns ago. Her hair fell into her face as she tilted her head against her temporary protector, but she didn't bother brushing it aside. Her eyes were closed, anyway, so what did it matter?
It was, she thought as she drifted closer and closer to sleep, very kind of Qosis to show his concern. Holding her, comforting her, caring. If she heard him speak her name, it was only in her dreams, and her response was that of a sleeping person; she shifted against him with a half-voiced breath.
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Azhdarchid
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Post by Azhdarchid on May 16, 2011 1:30:31 GMT -5
For a while longer than it took Malissa to curl up at his side and sleep, Qosis remained still and free of contemplation. Even an unconscious person would suffice to keep his thoughts calm, because he could fixate on her instead of himself. He would never be a man to whom being alone was comfortable. It was only a matter of choosing the right people to surround himself with. The ones that were the least annoying, for instance.
Malissa could fit that criterion through sheer humbleness. She would have passed from his memory by the following day had she not stopped and bared her mettle to him. Over a misunderstanding, sure, but the spark of temporarily legitimate outrage was enough to hold his interest. And then she folded it back as soon as he proved her wrong and turned docile again, as suited her sensibility and her sex. But the brief showing made the difference between seeing her as just another worker to be ordered, and starting to take stock of the traits beneath.
He used the arm he already had around her to move the sleeping girl into his lap. For a time he balanced her between one arm and his chest, using his other hand to pull the long blonde streaks of her hair inward. He did not want to answer questions about why he was hauling one of his fellow Candidates around in the early morning. Without the flash of hair he thought her silhouette might resemble a length of cloth or an oblong bag of produce. Of course, he always had the truth on his side if anyone took interest regardless of his precautions. Qosis rose and lifted her seamlessly with him.
His stride ate the ground between kitchen corridor and barracks in short order. Soon he occupied the commons with his parcel and considered the hall he had so carelessly marched and yelled down in the night. What room this girl belonged to, and with what roommate she might reside...he turned to address the slates for the barracks. But even after he grasped what route to take, he did not see success in the venture. So he went to the padded couch nearby and laid Malissa upon it. And since he was not going to sleep anyway, he planted himself in a chair across the room. He did not watch his charge, but remained just close enough to prevent pranksters from taking advantage of the easy target, not that this dismal morning should have suited mischief.
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