Lessons in Fortitude [Kireon]

[RavenSong]

{desc=Mengir/Mengsk/H'lios}"Oh I bet you think you're just the best thing ever now with that little thing in your arms," a man's voice said, echoing through the tunnel. A well-tanned male drudge had Mengir pinned to a wall with his presence alone, bullying her for being alive, for being a new wherling, and for being something he couldn't be. Mengsk was angry, his stubby little claw-wings flared, eyes red. He growled loudly, but didn't squirm. That alone told the man he was different from most whers, moreso than his body suggested. The drudge coveted the wheret and was determined to get ahold of him and bond to him.

Put Mengsk down, he said to Mengir. Mengsk teach insolent human manners.

"I don't know what insolent means. No, you'll get us in trouble," Mengir whispered to the wher, not quite grasping mental communication just yet.

"What'd you say, you little deadglow?" the man asked, stepping closer to Mengir. Mengir took a deep breath, her expression going absolutely blank.

"I was speaking to Mengsk," she said carefully.

"Oh, that's the beast's name? Well, once I'm done with you, his name will be Aliavsk," the man growled, reaching for Mengsk.

No, Mengsk said directly to the man as Mengir pulled away. Not Mengsk's. Mengir is Mengsk's. Mengsk is Mengir's. Leave. Mengsk will alert others. A man will not want. That made the man laugh.

"Oh look at the little precious. So much smarter than you, girl, you little scaredy-flit. Scaredy-flit dimglow girls like you shouldn't be handlers."

Mengsk tilted his head sharply to one side, the motion quick and deliberate. The man eyed the wheret, who gave a loud, calculated growl. This made the drudge step back.

Mengir. Deactivate fear protocol. Mengsk will remain. Fear protocol unnecessary. Inform miscreant presence unwanted. Inform miscreant Mengsk will summon assistance. Inform miscreant Mengir sound vocal alarm. Removal of miscreant certain.

"Please go away," Mengir pleaded. "Mengsk will call for help if you do not, and I will scream."

"Scream, then," the drugde said, smirking. "You're just a wherling. Nobody's going to believe a word you say if I tell them you were making advances on me, you lightskirt."

Mengir took a deep breath, going white. A lightskirt? Really?

Sound vocal alarm, Mengir.

"GO AWAY!" she shrieked.

[kireon]

Honestly, H'lios, I don't see why you insist on getting these things yourself, you're a Wingsecond, not some common rider. You could assign a drudge to fetch these things and stop wasting time looking for them yourself.[/i] Nelideth wasn't letting off this time. He was a disgruntled brat half the time, and absolutely unbearable the rest with his air of inflated self-importance. This day's battle was over the fact that the man in question was seeking out his own thread to mend something rather than allowing those who were more apt at the task to do it themselves.

Or, in short, Nelideth just didn't like the fact that H'lios insisted on doing repairs and maintenance on his own gear rather than having someone else do it. It was beneath them, busy as they admittedly were with Flight preparation, drill instructing and shadowing the Weyrlings to canvas who would be acceptable- with a good deal of work, of course- into their wing once time came for them to graduate, as far as the blue was concerned.

H'lios, on the other hand, was of the opposite opinion. There was no one he wanted to work on his gear other than himself, perhaps Dota could be an exception if he was particularly pressed for time and the cyanhandler offered in a way that didn't make him cranky. Which, oddly, wasn't hard to do in the woman's case, there was a sweetness about her that was both uncomfortably familiar and refreshing in a nostalgic manner. She was, of course, still her own person, but there were enough similarities there that it was a sweeter kind of ache, rather than the painful reminder staring him in the face such as he'd faced with others in the Weyr before.

I maintain my own harnesses and repairs so ensure any faults in their making are strictly my own, you overgrown snake with wings. If I've told you once, I've told you ten thousand times over that I will have no other hand but my own on your gear. He found the items he was looking for; a needle thick enough with a well honed tip specifically used to punch through thick leather without snapping, the specialized sinew used to keep said bits of leather together, and an awl to temporarily replace the one he needed to find someone to fix.

There was the distinct impression of a snort and a toss of a delicately formed head. I highly doubt that they would assign our repairs to a bunch of wherry brained-[/i] the debate between them continued, heated as always as the two fought like a bitter pair of fishwives over which of them was more "right" in increasingly insulting terms. At least, it had until the strains of something caught the bluerider's attention.

Silence, dimglow. He ordered the blue's nattering to cease, cocking his head to the side as his footsteps slipped into a silent gait he'd practiced as a boy. Dark clothing blending into the shadows, the dark haired man's icy eyes narrowed at the scene unfolding before him.

There were many words spoken, most of it drivel and his irritation mounted. He commended the newly hatched's restraint in not assaulting the foolish man in front of him. Audren must have declined the man from the program, and judging by the man's attitude, to say nothing about the poison dripping from his words and aggressive attitude, he'd have to be a fool not to see why.

He was already moving when the girl's shriek exploded into an echoing mess about the cavern. Ears ringing and temper now fouler than before, it was only a matter of carefully timed steps and positioning that enabled him to easily reach out and catch the worker's hand by the wrist- and hauled the arm back and up far enough that he could feel the shoulder threatening to pop out of place beneath the pressure. Free hand on the back of the other man's neck, he physically hauled the drudge away from the wherling and had his face pressed sharply against the side of the wall in the span of a heartbeat.

"Clearly the plague failed to thin the ranks enough to be rid of the likes of you, or has perhaps rotted your brain." The man's voice was hoarse, more of a rasping growl than actual speech as he spoke. "Only a dimglow, or a man looking to kill himself would attempt to force himself upon one of Audren's wherlings, a brownhandler at that."

The man struggled in his grasp, and H'lios' fingers slid further, grip tightening to painful levels as he pressed the fool's face further into the uneven stone walls. "I have no tolerance for fools, and less than that for those who believe they can just walk up and take what they want from others." He informed the man casually. "There wil be one solution to this; you will leave, and should you come near her again, her wher will savage you, and I will know. What happens to you after that can be left to what little of your brain still immerses itself into baseless fantasies. Do I make myself clear?"

There was a grumbled something that sounded like a threat to report him, or "you can't do this.". H'lios pulled him from the wall and shoved him towards one of the tunnels. "Report as you will, I assure you, things will not go as you expect them to. I was witness to the entire event, my word against yours- and you will see how little worth your word has in the end." Whether he had intended to or not, the tall bluerider's frame was between Mengir's and the drudge's, effectively blocking them from one another until the drudge, losing the glaring contest with the rider, slunk off with his tail between his legs. Venegence may or may not have been being plotted, but there had been nothing idle in the 'threats' that had been spoken by the Wingsecond as a whole.

He would know if Mengir was harassed again, Nelideth had the man marked now and would monitor him for a good amount of time. I will rend him limb from limb should he dare attempt retaliation on you, H'lios. Fools will not be suffered to live if they attack the likes of kings like ourselves. Nelideth promised him, seething as he furled his wings and hissed menacingly as the drudge headed out the opening. A tail lash at his head forced the man to dodge and hurry along his way. Yes, that was the one his H'lios had taught a valuable lesson to, and there would be more to come should the man choose to ignore it.

One hand rubbed at his temples. Now that one irritant was taken care of, he had the other. Her expression, her fear and the conversation were only too close to others he had experienced in the past. A flash of blue-violet eyes emerged, tear-filled with an angry flush across pale cheeks, within his memory and just as quickly vanished. This was another girl, with eyes that were lighter than hers, and with hair nowhere close to the raven's wing black of his deceased weyrmate.

Still, there was the sameness there that was not able to be dismissed.

His eyes fell on the wher first, a light hided bundle that reminded him more of a wingless dragon in build and structure than any wher he'd seen. "You," he addressed the wheret. "your handler's emotional and physical well being are first priority; you call for help from an older wher, handler, dragon or rider in the premise. They will instruct you from there."

"As for you," his eyes flicked up from the wheret to Mengir herself. "at what point did it ever occur to you that accepting harassment from a drudge, particularly a man who had been denied from the program by Audren herself, was acceptable?" What might have been a guess on Mengir's end that the hoarse rasp was used to intimidate and frighten may be proven wrong, as the voice did not change in tone. Or in volume, for that matter; remaining the same, barely-at-conversational volume- if sounding just a tad exasperated and disapproving instead of completely condescending and with a level though angry, tone as he'd used on the drudge in question.

And it didn't look like he was leaving until he received answers.

You must be joking, H'lios. You are interfering again? You know how these things always turn out, and she's a wherling![/i]

H'lios didn't even bat an eye at the blue's protest ringing in his ears. Future brownhandler, if she doesn't lose the wheret from sheer inability to stand up for herself. At the blue's instant retreat from his thoughts, the corner of his mouth curved, barely, upward.

That's what I thought.[/size]

[RavenSong]

Mengir was about to set Mengsk down and let him attack when salvation came in the form of a Bluerider, a wingsecond if she interpreted his knots correctly. She shrank back, not sure who he was at all, though she was immensely grateful that he had sent the drudge packing. She wasn't sure what sort of self-defense was permitted, after all, and she was quite pleased that someone came to her defense before she was forced to act.

Mengir, Mengsk said reassuringly. He squirmed a bit, indicating a desire to be put down, and Mengir obliged. Mengsk walked up to H'lios to investigate him as he turned his eyes and voice to scold him. Mengsk merely took it in stride, tilting his head sharply to one side as he listened. He also listened to H'lios scold Mengir, which resulted in the wheret tilting his head sharply to the other side.

Mengsk attending Mengir, he said simply. Attracting superiors left for last, like teeth. It was next step. Male arrived, step unneccessary. Miscreant removed. Mengsk will insist Mengir inform Ausk's. Ausk likely ensure permanent miscreant removal. This best for Mengir, for Weyr. Mengir desire Mengsk's protection. Brown is best in Mengir's mind. No other color. Mengsk disallow physical harm. Physical harm to Mengir resultant in immediate attack. Not permitted. Mind hands.

"Mengsk, don't talk like that to a rider," Mengir said quietly, slowly rising as the wheret spoke to H'lios. She trembled visibly. She'd apparently traded one angry person for another. She stared at H'lios for a moment as she wondered why he was so angry with her, his tone not quite registering. She looked down, wringing her hands together as she sought the answer.

Mengir afraid, Mengsk said simply to H'lios, speaking for the young woman.

"H-He w-was m-male," she stuttered, wrapping her arms around herself. Mengsk walked back to her side and sat down primly, watching H'lios. "I-I-I'm w-working on th-that. Please... d-don't be angry w-with me, or w-with Mengsk. I d-didn't want him c-calling an adult wher, a-and I d-didn't know who he could c-call that w-wouldn't result in d-d-death. I... I-I'm sorry, W-Wingsecond. I d-didn't want b-blood. Th-thank you for m-m-making him go away."

Speech pattern disruption resultant of male presence, Mengsk bluntly informed H'lios. Unspecified male. Uncertain of reason. Not shared... fear of harming Mengsk. The wher flicked one of his stubby little wings in an approximation of a shrug. It didn't bother him. Not understood.

"M-Mengsk is... d-different. H-He's perfect. So very perfect." Mengir's voice became soft and fond as she regarded her beautiful brown, a soft smile appearing on her face.

[kireon]

Not even a brow raised in the brown's direction at the sound of an unfamiliar, well spoken voice in his mind. In the distance, he could feel Nelideth balk at the intrusion, puffing up indignantly that someone would dare speak with His without requesting permission.
Alright, he could tolerate the brown, purely on the grounds that the little subking had already ruffled the proverbial feathers of his oversized, feathless wherry he'd had the misfortune of bonding to. "Wrong. Contacting superiors is always your top priority, following after that is protection of your handler and those who may also be in danger." Interesting wheret though, incredibly well spoken as well.

Because there were only so many times one could have the fortune of being saved before their time was up, and their price was paid. Permanently, at that.

The reminder to keep his hands to himself was entertaining, however, and he gave a polite nod in the wheret's direction. He had no need to even touch the girl, no desire to either. At her quiet voice, his eyes narrowed, annoyance causing him to bristle- particularly as the helpful commentary from Mengsk filled in the gaps.

Great, a wherhandler-in-training who was afraid of a good portion of fellow handlers. That was a wagonwreck waiting to happen. "There is only one reason I can even try coming up with to explain this lack of wanting to call for help; and it's a fool's idea." Faranth help him, why did women like her decide they needed to pursue an occupation handling creatures more dangerous than a dragon? "Calling for an adult doesn't mean failure on your end; and most of the wher here wouldn't kill on sight unless given very good reason to." Mauled, maybe, tackled or otherwise swatted with a hundred plus pounds of muscle backed by knife like teeth and sharper claws was a different story.

A pause, pointedly looking from Mengsk to Mengir again. "Nor, for your information, does that mean that you will be found incompetant and unable to properly care for your wher. The bond is permanent, there is no one else, Pern wide, who will ever have him other than you." Worse he could think of was she'd be held back in the wher program. But, then again, worse fates had happened than being held back until one was emotionally ready to deal with their profession.

Look who has patience,[/i] Nelideth commented sarcastically. my goodness, H'lios, it's almost like you've grown up or something. You've yet to make her cry, truly you've lost your touch.[/i]

I wouldn't be sure of that, tunnelsnake. "Blood is something you should get used to, preferrably sooner than later. Your duties will be to patrol the Weyr and eliminate all threats; human, Thread, and wild wher alike, should you find yourself facing them." His tone implied that she would indeed face those threats.

Her fond tone was just like any other recently bonded; utterly besotted. Even those who'd graduated, to his understanding, still carried the proud, affectionate lilt when their dragons or wher were spoken about. H'lios, though a complete ass and uncaring of emotional states of others- or so the impression came across rather bluntly- obligingly examined the wheret sitting proper at the girl's side. "Built like a dragon, rather than a wher. It will be interesting to see how that turns out as he grows into his full size." Simple, he wasn't one to wax poetic about anything unless he was attempting to woo someone. Usually in the past as a power play, perhaps more so now to watch a certain cyanhandler's face flush.

He hadn't moved either, still in the same place in the tunnel as he had been earlier. "For the record, annoyance and anger are two separate things. Contempt is the more accurate description of what I have for the little carrion eater from before than anger. Annoyance is more appropriate to describe with you."

Oh yes, because that will make her feel ever so much better, H'lios. Honestly, I thought you knew how to have a silver tongue, like myself. I am ashamed to be bonded to you, if only you could see my shame at this moment, it is truly a tragic thing.[/i]Nelideth bemoaned the man's failure at socializing with those admittedly beneath them, technically, in rank. Who knew what they would grow up to become? The impression of Nelideth burrowing his head and neck shamefacedly into the glorious expanse of one wing was boldly burned into H'lios mind.

And in the shadows, H'lios expression did not express one single iota of remorse or caring for his bonded's antics.[/size]

[RavenSong]

Mengsk listened to H'lios, giving a low growl because he was distressing Mengir. His eyes finally picked up a bit of red in the slowly-whirling blues and greens. He was imitating other whers.

If adult wher required for Mengir protection, Mengsk summon adult. Summoning Pesk. Then he parked himself in front of Mengir and just growled at H'lios, his body language a distinct threat display. Mengir sighed and picked the wheret up, shaking her head.

"You stop that," she chided. Mengsk gave her a puzzled look.

Mengsk following protocol, he stated, the red fading from his eyes.

"He was telling you how to act if something like that happens again."

Wingsecond threatening Mengir. Mengir in distress. Mengir sighed and closed her eyes, pushing back the nervousness. Having a being bonded to her was definitely changing her. Spotface was nothing like Mengsk.

"I-I wasn't s-sure if th-that was a reason t-to kill, sir. M-Mengsk wanted to b-bite him. M-Mengsk doesn't understand th-things like emotions. H-he's like... I-I don't know th-the word to explain. I j-just w-wanted to make sure w-we didn't do anything t-to get us punished."

Uncertain term, Mengir. Mengsk is Mengsk, simple statement. Mengir just blinked at the wheret and sighed. She shook her head a little and tried to be social.

"Wh-what's your name, sir? I-I-I would r-rather n-not call you b-by rank, it... it feels rude. I-I'm Mengir, th-this is Mengsk. I kn-know you already know, but... i-introductions are p-polite and I w-was taught to be polite. I-I know wh-what my duties are. M-my first m-meeting with a wher w-was a bloody one, a-and Moosk's h-handler told me wh-what his job was wh-when he was t-trying to g-get wh-what was wrong f-from me. M-Moosk bit my brother. Moosk saved me." Stuttering or not, she was emphatic in her words, determination showing. "M-Mengsk s-sure is built l-like a dragon. P-People always w-want to look at him. I-I don't mind wh-when he talks to others. It's h-helpful, and he s-seems to enjoy it." H'lios definitions made the young woman blink, looking puzzled. Was he telling her the truth there? She didn't know. She was silent as she mulled the information over.

"Th-they're the same," she said quietly. "Wh-when... " She trailed off, frowning. "Th-they were always th-the same when I was little," she said. "I g-got punished either way. Wh-why are you annoyed w-with me?" she asked.

Improper protocol with miscreant? Mengsk suggested, looking to H'lios. Mengir frowned at Mengsk.

"I really wish you wouldn't use words I don't know," she said, shaking her head. She looked back to H'lios. "Wh-what's a miscreant?"

As she asked that, the sharklike form of Pesk showed up from the other direction, eyeing H'lios before looking to Mengsk and Mengir.

Why call Pesk? the black demanded. No problem here. Growl-mouth day-blind bluerider, belongs Dosk's. Not problem.

Bluerider distressing Mengir, Mengsk replied. Pesk eyed the little brown, then eyed H'lios, then eyed Mengsk again as Pel arrived.

"Is something wrong?" she asked.

No, Pesk said. Stupid baby think bluerider problem. Belongs Dosk's. Not problem. Stupid baby, call Pesk for problem. Growl-mouth sound more wher than Mengsk.

Mengsk just sat there, confusion evident as he gazed at Pesk.

"No ma'am," Mengir said meekly. "This Wingsecond sorted it out."

Pel looked at H'lios, then at Mengir, then at Mengsk. She shook her head and walked away. Pesk huffed at Mengsk before walking away as well. Mengir looked remarkably embarrassed, almost to the point of tears. To her credit, she didn't cry. She was too old for that.

[kireon]

H'lios was distinctly unimpressed with the spot of red in the wheret's eyes. If he was going to spin rubies at him for giving the girl a lesson in dealing with potential bullies and assailants, yet not follow appropriate protocol in the first place, the little guardian had further issues than most whers that would need addressing. One brow raised at the threatening body language. "That is the appropriate response to a threat towards your handler. Remember that for the future." He wonderted, briefly, if the young woman even knew what self-defense was, and restrained the urge to growl himself when she picked the brown up and scolded him for his appropriate reaction.

"So there is a spine beneath the trembling after all, there is hope for you yet." There might have been a ghostly hint of a twitch upward of the corner of his mouth at the light dig at his lack of manners and formalities. Good, he'd have thrown his hands in the air and stalked off to parts unknown in the weyr if she'd proven herself hopeless and cowardly to the core. "H'lios, the unfortunate soul bonded to blue Nelideth." You forgot to mention how wonderful I am in comparison to your sorry self, H'lios. I am quite disappointed. Tell her how glorious I am, the pinnacle of perfection and nobility in the skies, the-[/i] "For the record; calling me by rank alone will cause me to snap at you in the future. Formalities are wasted unless the time is appropriate, and serves as the kind of sucking up that I have no time for."

You are a wretched human being, H'lios.[/i]

Excellent, we're in agreement on that account. Now, go Chase your reflection and cease pestering me.

Several things started to add up as she detailed her first encounter with a wher. Two turns worth of wages that her brother is the cause, or I truly am incapable of seeing your hide is iron or bronze beneath that irremovable blue dye you fell into as a dragonet.

Nelideth didn't even bother to dignify that with a response, merely sending the distinct impression of a royal, haughty snub.

Point to him, he'd won that round.

But, the time gloat on that one would come later. He had other matters to address, in order of importance."Miscreant is a polite word to describe the gutless dolt who thought taking a wheret from its bonded would do him any good. In simpler terms, a law-breaker or one who acts against the laws of society proper." Undereducated on top of being terrified of her own shadow, she had along way to go before she met his high standards for the handlers and riders of any weyr. At least she had a desire to learn what she didn't know, that was another point in her favor.

"Anger is how I physically handled the brainless one before tossing him out on his ear down the tunnel, contempt is in the manner I spoke to him and the words I have to describe someone like him- a waste of resources. In short," His words were cut short by the arrival of Pel and Pesk. He quirked an eyebrow, the humor of the situation not lost on him as he waited, patiently, to see how the exchange would be handled.

Judging by Mengsk's expression; not in the manner the wheret'd thought it would.

At Pel's glance, the wingsecond gave her a polite, if silent, salute of greeting. Dota'd spoken of her a time or two, and he'd heard no complaints out of the handlers' quarters about the pair's duties and patrol capability. As a result, he had no disapproval towards them one way or another; whers were useful in a regard an oversized wherry like their dragons couldn't be.

With the blackhandler and her bonded disppearing back into the shadows, H'lios attention went back to the bonded pair in front of him. "As witnessed; you call, someone will come- even if it turns out they aren't needed." There was a pause, a low grating sound as the man cleared his throat.

He'd end up visiting Yuri again at some point, for another supply of whatever mix the Candidatemaster'd come up with in that supply of herbal concoctions that'd helped soothe the irritation and damage in his throat for a time. "You are a freshly bonded pair; part of the future of this Weyr's guard program. Your existence, health and well-being as a pair, as well as individually, is vital to the Weyr's successful growth and expansion; that is why help will always come when called, even if it's for something small."

His throat stung, felt as if he'd been rubbing it with sand. Only training and turns of self-control kept him from rubbing at the scarred expanse covered by the eternally present high collared shirts or jackets. He did, however, run his hand through thick dark hair in exasperation. Comfort was more Dota's thing, or Melinda's, back in the day. "In short, I am an unpleasant person." H'lios finally stated again, picking up where he left off before. "My anger and contempt are saved for those who do something deserving of it, while your meekness and fear of me grates on my last nerve, you do not make me angry. I do not deliver punishment unless it is justly deserved and you have done something to earn one." That brother, on the other hand...

Nelideth stirred for the first time, and the rider could feel the blue's mind turning the same icy feel as his hide's color inspired. That wretch will not be an issue,[/i] he informed H'lios softly, terribly. one foot within Dalibor, and only Faranth's mercy would ever be able to save him should he dare to try. I wouldn't mind volunteering to transport him back to whatever mudhole he crawled from.[/i] The implication of dropping him "accidentally" while Between was more than apparent in the blue's voice.

Agreeing on something twice in one day? Perhaps a trip to the Infirmary is necessary, I must have smashed my head harder than I thought during yesterday's drill. He sent back, pleased that his dragon agreed with his sentiments.

A snort. Your head has been broken long before now, H'lios. I've been trying to tell you this for Turns now.[/i] Smug, still highly agitated, but still pleased with himself overall with the insults.

"The life you knew before is gone now," The ice-eyed man finally spoke again. "take the new beginning you've been given and make the most of it. I know nothing of your circumstances, nor do I need to. Whoever you fear, be it your brother or another for valid reasons, the instant they set foot on Dalibor's shores, their minds will be touched," because there were too many bloody whers and dragons with too much free time in this sharding place. "and their intentions read. If Mengsk doesn't savage anyone who wishes harm on you within an inch of their lives, someone else will show up to do so and haul them away for the healers to deal with."

He was going to regret lecturing her later, of this he was sure.[/size]