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 Posted: Mon Dec 13, 2010 5:12 pm
Roka was never the homely type and she still thought moving for a third - fourth? - time was absurd. A rule of life: when you can't remember how many times it was, it's too many. That applied to downing drinks, sexual partners and Weyr transfers. This place made it to the "Weyr" tally in the face of some, how to put it, lackadaisical quirks.
"Quirk" one: This was not a Weyr.
"Quirk" two: See "quirk" one.
High Reaches was nice; she could have seen herself growing old there and dying if she could bare to imagine herself any older than she already was. Luci's request for her to transfer was rejected the first time, but the Weyrwoman kept nagging and nagging at her to accept. She couldn't tell her why back then -- if Roka were to say no and go blab to the other Weyrfolk, things would get very troublesome, very fast. All she could say (and did say) was this could be her ticket to becoming a master in her craft.
Fame was a siren to Roka. Unable to resist its sweet song, she'd (cautiously) agreed and been sent here. To an island. An island with a prison. Cause for outrage up until she'd found out why.
Blackriders.
They were going to engrave her name in history once she figured them out. But, first...
Footsteps were approaching the room containing F'sey's cell.
"Thank you," Roka was saying, "I'm not sure what I'd do without you."
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Posted: Mon Dec 13, 2010 5:35 pm
F'sey was dozing lightly. He was still on his feet, face pressed against the bars of his cell as he swayed. His red hair was a mess, his fringe falling over his face. It had been a few days; a simply holding had turned into a continual stay at Nowhere Islands' finest resort. In fact, the greenrider had lost track of time, he spent most of it sleeping.
A strange voice was nothing new. There were guards, some taunting, some indifferent. There were other people in the cells now and then for various holding-type reasons, though none as impressive as hitting the Whitemaster. F'sey had given up on trying to communicate. He didn't care, not really.
But that strange voice sounded familiar. Blinking slowly, the redhead slowly straightened himself, stretching out with a groan. He was getting a little old to be sleeping on his feet (but like hell was he was going to be caught sprawled across the cold floor). It took him a moment, but F'sey was looking around for the source of that voice. He'd heard that voice. He knew that voice.
...oh Faranth.
"What are you doing here?"
Didn't he leave her at Ista!?
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Posted: Mon Dec 13, 2010 5:45 pm
People didn't "leave her" anywhere. She didn't belong to anyone, and leaving things in the way F'sey phrased it was used for possessions. If a dragon couldn't have her, no man was going to, she knew that much. Roka would have told him so if only she could read his mind and for some reason still felt it necessary to be here with psychic powers to occupy her time. If only.
"Unlock this and you can go," she said to the guard.
"Then I'll have to wait outside the door," he responded.
"I told you this is private--"
"Then he stays locked up. It's for your own protection."
Roka was displeased with the defiance. Figures she'd get one of the gay guards completely unswayed by her inappropriate dress. Were they recruiting bronzeriders or just recruiting straight men? "Alright, fine. Keep it locked."
When he was gone, she approached the bars and breathed out slowly. Slooowly. Her eyes stared him down not in an attempt at intimidation, but something entirely different. Something like...
"I missed you," she would whisper. "That's why."
If she was screwing with him, she was doing an eerily good job of making it believable.
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Posted: Mon Dec 13, 2010 5:53 pm
Ew, Roka. Ew.
Wrinkling his nose, F'sey retreated from the side of his cell and, more importantly, Roka. She was far, far too close, and whatever she was doing was completely unwarranted. The greenrider recognized it as flirting, to some degree, but. Ugh. Nothing he was interested in, not in the least.
"What do you want?" he groused, running a hand through his unruly hair in a futile attempt to make himself more presentable. He glowered, and huffed quietly. Roka was not someone F'sey ever needed to see again. "Don't you have mentally ill people to bother?"
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Posted: Mon Dec 13, 2010 6:05 pm
Roka perked right up. "Oh, tons," she answered, so delighted by the high rate of mental problems on these islands something may have been wrong with "the" mindhealer just as much as with any of them. Her hands got a hold of the uncomfortable chair in the corner (usually used for guards to sleep in while they pretended to be doing their jobs) and she dragged it over to the cell. The two back legs went screeeee across the floor.
"Have you met the blackrider? She's an absolute lunatic." Roka sat and plopped the bag she'd been lugging around down on the floor. She pulled out one, no three, no five -- a lot of hides. At last she answered: "I'm here to help you."
However, she was Roka before she was a helper; Roka was the kind of woman that lived for her job. "Don't you find it odd you're not physically attracted to me at all and yet you're just in such a rush to fix your hair? It's almost as if you have some subconscious need to look presentable to everyone. Who would have thought such a grouchy guy cared so much? Or maybe I just turned you and you're trying to bed me after all."
That last line really was a joke, thank Farnath.
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Posted: Mon Dec 13, 2010 6:16 pm
F'sey wasn't sure if he was comforted to know if there were people with actual problems on the island. After all, Roka was still here to bother him. In his jail cell. Where he couldn't escape.
"I don't find it odd at all. I'm gay, but I still have a sense of pride. Being homosexual doesn't mean I don't look in the mirror." In fact, he checked out his reflection quite often. He fixed his hair more frequently than he looked at his reflection! "There's no reason I shouldn't want to appear presentable to everyone. First impressions, and all that." What else did he have, if not his first impressions?
"You know what I think is odd? That you feel the need to ask me such stupid questions when there are other people who might actually need help. Not that you're really of that much help at all, but." F'sey shrugged and tipped his chin nonchalantly. "You could pretend, if it made you feel better."
Being kept in holding did nothing for his mood.
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Posted: Mon Dec 13, 2010 6:25 pm
"Mmhm." Roka wasn't listening to a damn word of it. No wonder she and J'aro hit it off so well. She knew it wasn't good practice to ignore what your patients had to say (be they willing participants or not), but she knew just as well all F'sey was spouting were insults. She wasn't made of metal like these bars; her temper wasn't as unbreakable as they were. But it was very controlled from turns and turns of practice.
All but one of the hides were returned to the bag before she had anything productive to say. "We're going to talk about why you don't want to be Wingleader." She glanced down at the writings, adding, "And then a few other things I've always wanted to lock you up and ask you about. Dreams really do come true, see?"
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Posted: Mon Dec 13, 2010 6:42 pm
Faranth, he hated being ignored. Why was everyone so good at ignoring him here? Maybe he should yell louder...
F'sey could only blink in surprise when Roka finally got to the point of the little meeting. "What? Who told you about that?" He hadn't shared that information with anyone, and neither had Ialluth. (The bubbly green had become something of a recluse since her rider was retained, and didn't spend much time socializing at all. In fact, anyone that knew the mottled dragon at all might have said she looked depressed. Xanthoth's had been looking after her, but he was not Hers. Ialluth missed her rider, the one she had before they'd come to this place.)
"J'aro's sent you, hasn't he? Well, you can tell him to shove it up his a**. I am not going to be Wingleader. I'm not about to be publicly humiliated for J'aro's own satisfaction." F'sey shrugged. "Besides, I've not actually earned it. J'aro made that decision on a whim. That's all there is. Satisfied?"
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Posted: Mon Dec 13, 2010 6:49 pm
Placing one hand on the hide and the other beside it, Roka sat in the least threatening posture she could manage; arms and legs uncrossed at all times, shoulders relaxed, leaning forward just enough to look interested. "He asked me to come, but he didn't send me on a mission to destroy you, no. What does one do to "earn" being a Wingleader?"
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Posted: Mon Dec 13, 2010 7:05 pm
"Well, it doesn't include punching the Whitemaster in the face, I can assure you." F'sey snorted softly, shaking his head. "But I imagine one must be a leader already, in some other aspect. Be smart, be tactical. Perhaps serve as a Wingsecond first, I'm not really quite sure." He shrugged, still looking away, but he seemed to be a bit relieved, to be getting all this off his chest. "I don't have wing formations. I mean, I know them, certainly, but not the ones at this Weyr. I've been here a week and a half. J'aro doesn't know me. There is no way he knows if I'm a leader or not, if I work well under pressure, how I handle change or difficult personalities. He doesn't know what Ialluth's like, how she flies, how well she handles dragons or what kind of stamina she has."
The long and short?
"J'aro is an idiot."
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Posted: Mon Dec 13, 2010 7:10 pm
Roka lifted her chin and let it fall back, creating a quaint little nod that showed she was listening. No eye contact still, but she excused it (for now) as him being uncomfortable. "I agree that without testing Ialluth his move was brash." One of J'aro's many problems she planned to approach at another point and time when he was the most interesting thing for her to poke and prod at. "How many Wingleaders do you know that were Wingseconds first? All of them? All the good ones?"
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Posted: Mon Dec 13, 2010 7:17 pm
"I'm not sure, I didn't count." To be honest, F'sey never really kept track. Before he was a Weyrlingmaster, he was a bit of a recluse. He showed up to wing practice, repeated the motions, spent the rest of his time on the beach with Ialluth. Sometimes, interaction was unavoidable, but the greenrider did his best otherwise.
After taking the weyrlings under his wing, he did watch those he raised, but none of them went on to do much. A few Wingseconds. But that was it, and they were drafted, as soon as they walked the table. (F'sey wasn't sure if he agreed with that, either, but as soon as those kids walked, they were out of his hands and he kept his opinions to himself.)
"I didn't make a practice of knowing Wingleaders. I knew S'kagi. Sort of." F'sey shrugged. "I don't like bronzeriders."
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Posted: Mon Dec 13, 2010 7:22 pm
Roka tucked a strand of stray hair behind her ear, which unbeknown to anyone (yet) was the only tell she hadn't managed to squash, barring facial twitches and other such things no human could control no matter how aware of them they were.
The motion sold her out for trying to hold back.
Didn't like bronzeriders... He was kidding, right? With the things she'd heard about with him and B'lin, she seriously doubted that. And didn't his home Weyr have a green Wingleader? She kept it all to herself for now. No one said this job was easy.
"You don't like bronzeriders and you don't like J'aro. Noted. Let's focus on only you for now. What do you think the qualities that make a good Weyrlingmaster are?"
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Posted: Mon Dec 13, 2010 7:28 pm
"You're getting off topic." Who cared about what made a good Weyrlingmaster? It was entirely different from being a Wingleader. A Weyrlingmaster raised the young, the Wingleader took the adults to test what they knew and hoped they brought everyone back alive.
"A Weyrlingmaster has to have experience. And patience." Which F'sey didn't have, but did without. "Has to be firm and committed." Even when the goldriders got rebellious, he took her by the head and shaved her bald. Maybe it wasn't the best approach. "Has to be fair and exercise restraint." He shrugged. "Has to be hard of will, and able to take a loss if the worst comes to pass."
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Posted: Mon Dec 13, 2010 7:33 pm
Not so different to Roka, who felt she proved her point quite well even if F'sey didn't agree with it. "I'm sorry, were we talking about Wingleaders still? It's hard for me to tell them apart since they're so similar." Without giving him time to answer -- she didn't need one for rhetorical questions -- Roka asked something more legit: "How does a Weyrlingmaster obtain experience?"
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