Making A Stand! [Jack]

[Kila]

Sol sat against the head of her bed, knees drawn to her chest, and stared intensely at the jacket that hung at the end. Hally lay curled tightly around her ankle, dozing and occasionally batting away a golden curl with a flick of his tail when it brushed against him, completely unaware of and unabashed by the furious thoughts pounding through his bonded’s head.

I’ve had this for far too long. I’ve been deluding myself and being ridiculous for far too long, she thought as she bore holes into it. But it smelled so good…. Like him…. And it was so warm to pull around her… No! No, she needed to get rid of it- get it and him out of her life. Sure, she still liked him, especially after the flight (she blushed and ducked her head behind her knees), but it just wouldn’t work. He had a weyrmate. He was a BronzeRider. He couldn’t be as interested in her as she was in him. Her thoughts about the unresolved matter were consuming and torturing her, and she just needed to come to a decision.

Jumping to her feet on the bed suddenly, sending poor Hally scurrying under a pillow with his lazy pink sister, Sol snatched the jacket from the post and jumped to the floor, landing in half crouch and stuffing her feet into her boots nearby. I’ll be rid of it yet, she assured herself, feeling a surge of confidence at having made some decision- ANY decision. She would do it.

Sweeping out the door, Sol stomped to B’rak’s weyr with purpose. She didn’t see Shoth on his ledge and Eccolath was missing too. At least there’s one happy couple. ”Hello?” she called, keeping the timidness out of her voice. She hated that he made her panicky and nervous like this. No one should have such an effect on a person! She peeked in and didn’t see anyone. She narrowed her eyes and her lips pulled unconsciously into a pout- quite a comical disgruntled look. Spinning around she went back down the stairs and began to comb the tunnels and halls, searching with purpose. She would find him!

[jack]

A gentle wind was blowing today, a chill sort of breeze that foretold of a sharp weather change. It had been growing steadily sharper as the minutes had ticked by, and as though on command of his thought process, an especially blunt breeze shoved its way past, forcing him to close his eyes.
”Bit brutal, eh?”
B’rak cracked an eye open at the other man’s voice, a lazy little smile curling onto his lips as he did. The blackette was perched on a nearby rock, spread out on it like an especially lazy feline with his belly up to the sky. T’el’s eyes were open, the fierce blue orbs directed at the clouds above, stalking the outline of thunderheads that were slowly creeping their way towards them. His arms were folded behind his head, and his curled black locks—which were growing to ridiculous lengths, in his mind—hid a good chunk of them. He stretched luxuriously as B’rak watched, and the man’s shirt rode up to reveal his stomach as he gave a pleased grumble and looked to the side at the Bronzerider. ”The wind, I mean.”

B’rak chuckled and nodded, looking away from the handsome young man. He too now watched the thunderclouds as they approached, born on winds that continued to grow steadily harsher. The water at his feet was beginning to ripple at the force of the breeze, and he gave a soft sigh as another particularly harsh gust ripped at his hair. ”Nothing but a rainstorm.”
”Shardin’ big rainstorm.”
The Bronzerider looked again to T’el, who was now sitting up with his legs crossed beneath him. His hands were in his lap, predatory stare positively glaring at the horizon now. With his shoulders partially hunched, and his chin lifted, he looked a bit like a starved hound, ready to launch itself at a particularly juicy herdbeast as it limped along after its dam. Sjueth too was looming now, the silvery monster lifted from the water where he had been napping to stare off into the distance. They were…a terrifying duo, B’rak thought absently as he observed.

T’el was a true horror. A misshapen soul writhing like a wild tunnelsnake within that beautiful, human skin. Even B’rak, who had known T’el for many a turn and had stood by him for every one of them, could do nothing but recognize how horrifically scarred the man was…and could hardly help but realize how permanent those scars were. Much like Sjueth’s mauled eye, T’el would never be a completely human man again. But…

The ex-miner smirked as T’el suddenly yawned and flopped onto his side like a fish dumped from the water, wriggling about uncomfortably before settling like death itself flat on the rock. ”I want my pet.” He whined, squirming for a moment longer, ”But he’s mad at me. You have to deal with women!” Almost immediately T’el had rolled back over and off the rock, now sitting with his legs straddling B’rak’s hips. The white-haired man was unphased as the blackette slipped his arms about the other’s neck, drawing uncomfortably close before speaking, his lips pressed flush against B’rak’s jaw. ”Why is he so temperamental? I just wanna please him, but he always has to yell at me and throw things at me…when all I want is to give him one kiss. One hug. One large push to pin him against a wall…I don’t understand.”

B’rak was silent, his eyes quietly raking the skies as he thought. Who could imagine that a man as straightforward and fearless as T’el…would ever find himself in this sort of position? T’el who asked no questions, and needed no answers. Who took what he wanted, and shoved away the rest. To think that he would be so desperate to know how to make this one man happy? Sure, the blackette had an odd way of putting things…but B’rak understood. He’d always—for the most part, there were lots of things about T’el you simply had to accept as default—understood.

”You love him?”
”….”
”Ah…” Large fingers curled in black as T’el pressed his face into B’rak’s neck, eyes closed and mouth drawn tight into a displeased frown. The bronzerider was patient, gently brushing his fingers through the other’s hair. ”Does he love you…?”
”Of course not.” The response was quick—sharp. B’rak smirked, sharing a glance with the one-eyed dragon behind the Ironrider. Sjueth knew much more than T’el, clearly.
”There’s nothing I can tell you, T’el. You know I’m no advice for love.”
”No…but you have very good ears.”
B’rak snorted as the Ironrider squirmed out of reach, lazily sitting up before scrambling to the water. B’rak straightened and slowly got to his feet as the man dove in, grinning ear-to-ear when he resurfaced. ”But enough of me! What’s this I hear about you and some pretty little rider?”

A blush spread itself immediately across B’rak’s visage, his eyes growing wide as he stuttered for words, only to be interrupted by a lifted hand. ”I see. Well! You realize I will have to investigate this. I can’t allow my favorite playmate to be playing with something I don’t approve of! I already checked in on B’nyur. Bit boring…but I suppose in a way that suites you. But this new girl….I’ll have to dig up on it.”
”No you won’t.” Jaw set in a frown—and a blush still staining his cheeks—the white-haired man crossed both arms and downright glared at the blackette, who with mild amusement, lifted both brows in mock surprise.
”My my. Big bad digger finally shows some attitude. Fine, fine! I’ll let you have your fun for now. But she’d better not do anything tricksy—I’ll know and teach that naughty little creature a lesson.”
”Naughty little creature? Like you’re one to talk.”
A snort and a laugh was all the man got as a reply, and he gave a fond little smile at the trail of bubbles that indicated T’el’s disappearance. The blackette reappeared by his dragon, squirreling his way up the great Iron hide to perch between the dragon’s wings—looking very much akin to a particularly squat parasite with his legs drawn up and his head resting on his knees.

B’rak waved the man off lazily and smirked, tilting his head slightly to the side. T’el was already absently chattering away with Sjueth—silently, of course—with nothing but soft gestures and the occasional rocking back and forth to give evidence of him even being alive. As for B’rak, well, he had things he could be doing. T’el liked his alone time a lot—especially when he had something he now wanted to think over. B’rak would just have to go find something else to do…which with Shoth’s last tantrum destroying an entire harness, he had plenty of. So off he shambled, leaving T’el with Sjueth musing about his pretty blond pet. M’kiru was his name, if B’rak remembered correctly. The Blackrider that had come with the renegades—the one that hadn’t born T’el a child. A child B’rak still hadn’t gotten to meet. But eventually—if T’el had anything to say about it—he would meet both M’kiru and this little girl.

As he was musing, the bronzerider made it about half the way to the Weyr. Shoth was…somewhere, but B’rak wasn’t entirely sure where. From the absently pleased signals he’d been receiving, B’rak could only assume with Eccolath. If the Bronze had been fond of the Cyan before the Flight, he was damn-near obsessive now. But in Shoth’s logic, it made perfect sense for him to be so possessively attentive now. Of course, before B’rak could get too far into thinking Shoth-like, the weather decided to have a word with him.
And by word, I mean decided to drench him.

Which explained why—a brisk run through the dining hall and kitchen later—a half-drowned Bronzerider was shuffling slowly along the halls towards his weyr…with only half of his clothing on. Literally soaked to the bone and shivering, he now walked along the path barefoot, his water-filled boots in one hand and the shirt that had been on his back draped along his forearm. His other hand was desperately attempting to shake at least some of the water from his hair, and failing miserably. Distractedly, he looked again to his shirt, considering whether or not it would be worth it to attempt to wring it out. With his eyes down and hi mind wandering, it wasn’t too much of a shock when he rammed right into someone coming down the stairs. Instinctively, his arms wrapped around the smaller figure, pulling her close to protect her even as both stumbled and rolled. A bare foot struck out just in time to avoid a disastrous fall down the stairs, and B’rak gave a wary laugh as he uncurled his grip and gave a lop-sided—if a bit panicked and embarassed—smile at the form in his arms. ”Well! This…uhm…isn’t exactly how I intended to see you again, Sol…but hello nonetheless!”

[Kila]

It was raining now. Sol scowled at the sky in defiance. The weather could not dampen her determination! She would not be stuck in emotional limbo any longer- she refused. The water soaked her hair and drenched her clothes as she padded down the paths and stairs. It became increasingly impossible to see as the rain came down and Sol’s wet hair blinded her eyes. Realizing that she was sheltering the stupid jacket she humphed and held it over her head to block the downpour. Reaching up with one hand to rub water from her eyes, she was taken completely by surprise when she slammed into someone halfway down a flight of stairs.

Skin jumping in momentary terror as she felt her balance fail, she instinctively grabbed onto the person she had run into. She felt the others arms close quickly around her and together they fell backwards instead of down, landing safely but painfully on the stairs her feet had just left. The mystery person put themselves between her and the stairs, but Sol still felt her knee bang painfully against the edge of one of the stone stairs. She winced into the protective chest as her leg went numb before looking up to see her savior.

Sol froze. She’d found B’rak after all. Or they’d found each other, rather. And he was giving her that smile and a rather hesitant hello! Why hesitant, though? The fact that he had her in his arms was enough to make her melt. No! Focus! she insisted, shaking her head to break the spell of shock upon her. ”Here,” she said, pushing the jacket into his hands with less conviction in her voice than she’d wanted, ”I wanted to give this back to you.”