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 Posted: Fri Dec 10, 2010 6:41 am
Ugh. This was kind of dizzying. F'sey took a moment to appreciate how cooperative Ialluth was, and clung to J'aro just a little bit tighter. Part of him had to wonder if this was natural for the feral dragon, but the nastier part suggested her rider had asked the beast to do this on purpose. Punish him further. (He still wasn't sure where they were going, though he wasn't sure he was given much of a choice about going anywhere.)
"Huh?" F'sey glanced down, and sure enough, there was B'lin's bronze having a fit fine enough to put any good weyrbrat to shame. He snorted softly, sparing a thought to wonder where his rider had run off to.
J'aro caught his attention again, and the greenrider narrowed his eyes. "No, I rather suspect they won't be troubling at all," he agreed. Broken bones, while unpleasant, were not something F'sey was concerned about. There was one individual who had him wrapped around their little finger, though, and he was not confident that one person would not reduce him to a shell of a man. Not intentionally, of course.
But it had already started.
"I can assure you, I've lived through worse."
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Posted: Fri Dec 10, 2010 7:11 am
"And I'd love to hear all about it sometime," J'aro submitted, sounding much too provoking for as sincere as the words were; he really did want to know about the other Weyrs -- 'others'. Tch. As if this place was one. That was exactly what he'd meant.
"But you haven't. I don't mean the worst is the barbaric handlers that hate you for the reason you're a rider. The ones that will break someone like you are the good people. The children, especially."
Rajath was still going around and around and J'aro was beginning to sound irritated. With her or with the situation... F'sey would have to decide himself.
"These children are damned to live and die here. They'll raise them with the cloak of nobility -- assure them that the existence of this place -- their existence -- is something to be proud of. But in the end, they're stuck in the worst place on Pern. You can teach them anything you want, for as long as you want, but no matter what does or doesn't stay with them you can never really better their lives. That's the true way to break a Weyrlingmaster, isn't it?"
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Posted: Fri Dec 10, 2010 7:27 am
F'sey ignored J'aro, feeling more mocked than anything else. It was not his home he referenced, but a particular even in his life. It would have happened anywhere, Ista, Igen. It almost happened here, as a matter of fact, but there was no use explaining that with the younger rider. To be frank, F'sey wasn't sure he really wanted to share it, not even with B'lin, the one who'd dredged up those well-buried memories.
He listened in silence, trying to focus on the whiterider instead of the never ending spiral Rajath was subjecting them to. His grip tightened again; while heights did not frighten F'sey, something about this scenario was unsettling. Perhaps it was being poked and prodded by someone just as clever, or perhaps it was simply being put at the mercy of a dragon will nothing but ill will. Hardly a dragon at all, really.
"It does not matter what you do or say, if you cannot save them in the end." The greenrider glanced away. Was he agreeing? Most likely, but it left a bitter taste in his mouth. "Why are you bringing this up?" He was not Weyrlingmaster here, he felt nothing for these people. (Not for now, he knew, but it was hard for him to remain unattached for long, no matter how icy he tried to be.)
"Have they broken you, J'aro?"
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Posted: Fri Dec 10, 2010 7:46 am
The leak of annoyance in J'aro's voice had been repaired. Instead, he'd become distant by time he spoke again, saying simply, "Who knows."
Both his hands were on the reins, trying to get Rajath under control. Demanding she fly straight. Silently ordering her to behave through force alone when words meant nothing to these beasts. (You could tell when you got farther in a conversation with F'sey.) He was worried she'd try and buck him if he dared guide her between. With a passenger to consider, he'd rather wait out her tantrum.
"Maybe I feel like telling someone and no one will ever believe some foreigner if they say the Whitemaster had some heart-to-heart with them, especially one obviously out to get him. If you'll punch a man, surely you'll gossip about him."
F'sey couldn't see it, but he could hear the grin in his voice. J'aro could hear it and he was the one speaking.
But then, he was grim. "We may have to fly. I'm not sure I trust her enough and I'd rather not risk you falling. She's on edge from all the commotion...and I don't think she likes you very much. Not surprising given the givens."
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Posted: Fri Dec 10, 2010 7:54 am
Hmm. He'd have to store that away for later. (Preferably, when he was not at the mercy of J'aro's dragon.)
"What makes you think I'm a gossip?" F'sey sniffed, doing his best to glower at the back of the younger rider's head. "Just because I'm a greenrider doesn't make me a mindless twit, thank you." Occasionally, the man still felt like he deserved better, but. Ialluth remained convinced she was the only one in the world for him, and while he had to admit she did a good job tempering him, he couldn't help but wonder what he could have accomplished with a dragon equally as ambitious instead.
(Imagine if he had a dragon like Xan- No, no. Jealousy gets you no where.)
Snorting, F'sey glanced down at the white body beneath them. "Yes, I got that feeling. It's fine, I don't like her very much either." Of course, that wasn't saying much. He didn't like many dragons, especially the rebellious ones. (Here's looking at you, Arioth.) "Do what you have to. Remind me why I couldn't just take Ialluth?"
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Posted: Fri Dec 10, 2010 8:04 am
J'aro laughed. Not so much at him as a reaction to his naivety. Someone needed to brace him for the reality of this predicament. Who better than a 'someone' than the man he was clinging to? "Because she won't be allowed on the island. Prisoner's dragons stay here except during visitations, and those are brief. You won't need one given how short your stay will be. Just enough for public appearances."
One battle lost and one battle won. With his tally updated, J'aro managed to control her enough she stopped the spinning and they were soon on a straight path to the other island. That island. The one where no one wanted to be.
"You don't know this yet, but white dragons are considered the equivalent of greens by law here. They rise like greens, they're the same size as greens... And it doesn't matter, or at least it isn't supposed to, because by Ghenza tradition all the colors are equal. They work their golds over there, you know. Problem is, Ghenza blood are originally of Telgar blood or High Reaches blood or rarer still Hold blood -- B'lin is a rarity for this place. It's a toss up as to what you'll get, but Ialluth has as many opportunities here as her skill allows. If B'lin died, and she were capable, you would be wingleader."
J'aro felt at ease enough to make sure F'sey got a look at his grinning face this time. He looked back at him, every slightly yellow tooth visible. (No time for perfect dental hygiene, son. This was a prison.) "I was born here, so I don't know a thing about your color biased rankings first hand. You can relax your complex some. Any whiterider is the last to judge someone for dragon color alone."
He sighed - dramatically, fakely - and turned back. "Such an angry little bird. It's a wonder your hair isn't falling out more at your age being such a tart."
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Posted: Fri Dec 10, 2010 9:06 am
"...prisoner!?" Were they not several hundred feet in the air, F'sey would have shoved backwards and made another break for it. (As it were, he did not want to end his life quite like that. He was upset, not suicidal.) "What have I done to earn that!? Is this because I punched you last night? Have to make a little power display, do you? Can't actually just fight me proper?" the redhead ranted, absolutely appalled at the idea he was going to be contained. Of course, he knew you weren't supposed to fight, but honestly, locking him up? Honestly?
The redhead was so upset, he nearly missed the comment about being a wingleader himself. The man could only scoff at such a revolutionary idea, sneering a bit and shaking his head. "You're wrong. No one listens to a greenrider. Might be different, for you." When your dragon was a savage, he didn't need to add. "But everyone knows greens are just a joke. A filler. A handout," he hissed, bitter. Everyone and their uncle had a green, and every green found themselves at the butt of every joke, like they were more amusing than something blue or brown or bronze.
At the end of the day, a green dragon did not demand respect, not unless she was half wild. Even then, even the meanest green didn't hold a candle to these whites.
Unable to keep from rolling his eyes, F'sey held back the urge to shove J'aro. (He didn't care about jostling the rider. Upsetting Rajath, however...) "Shut up." He was already starting to go grey, he really didn't need to be reminded. "Don't hate me because I'm better looking." He really didn't sound as confident as someone saying that should.
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Posted: Fri Dec 10, 2010 9:21 am
And again, J'aro erupted into a fit of humble laughter. His acting skills would never be the best on this island by a long shot, to the point he'd never be good enough to fake a laugh. Restraining them he could do, but not force one. When he laughed, it was always real. (Though, sometimes, it was made to look like he was tickled by something other than the true culprit for his enterainment.)
"That you are," he hummed. "Did you stop to think that's why I'm not going to publicly disable you? Even knowing I'll win, you aim for the face. That's all I have, F'sey. What will I do if you damage it anymore than this? The fact you made it unsightly at all is a crime."
He'd make the poor greenrider pray for a prison cell at this rate.
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Posted: Fri Dec 10, 2010 2:39 pm
"What makes you think you can disable me, anyways?" People always assumed they could push him around, being so small. Of course, J'aro wasn't that much bigger, perhaps people assumed the same of him. Given, F'sey wasn't as young as he used to be, but he could still put up a good fight! (Though, that punch left his wrist and fingers much more sore than it did in his youth. Not that he'd admit it. Ever.)
"You think far too highly of yourself," the greenrider carried on. 'Enough is enough' apparently never entered his mind. "What makes you think your face looked any good before I gave you that bruise? It only adds a little character." F'sey was finding it a little difficult to argue with someone who didn't get angry, didn't really fret or fight back to all his barbs. J'aro was being far too calm; it was almost unnerving. Almost.
"...how long am I going to be 'imprisoned'?" From the sounds of it, the former Weyrlingmaster still didn't quite think the Whitemaster was capable of such, though. Thinhs certainly weren't looking good for him right now.
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Posted: Fri Dec 10, 2010 3:11 pm
There was no way for him to be hiding much of anything so close; had his shoulders tensed, F'sey would have known. The squawking of his "angry little bird" didn't grate on J'aro's nerves; if anything, he seemed to enjoy having the one-sided banter keeping him company. If that meant demanding to know why he thought this or why he thought that, so be it. All of it melded into distinguishable, snark-happy background noise anyway. Until-
"...how long am I going to be 'imprisoned'?"
And that was when he furrowed his brow and his muscles did shift in ways that granted reasonable suspicion some negative emotion had surfaced. Perhaps guilt, nervousness -- a number of other things for all F'sey knew to think.
"Not long," he would decide, decide right then, because it was up to him and he hated it. "A day. Two days. Not long unless you insist on being difficult. Why don't you just--" Just behave. He wanted to say "just behave", but Rajath chose then to start fussing. Fussing being the nice way to put it.
The dragon was circling again. She hissed through the muzzle. She flared her nostrils. She was, point blank, not happy.
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Posted: Fri Dec 10, 2010 3:40 pm
F'sey had indeed been trying to determine what J'aro's small shift meant; tone of voice just wasn't enough when he couldn't see the expression accompanying the statement. He was about to lean forward (and come up with some excuse) to get a better look when Rajath began to fuss. Well, fuss more than the white was already making.
Making a startled noise, the greenrider wrapped his arms around J'aro in earnest this time, all previous reservations forgotten as the dragon's antics continued to escalate. She was spiraling again, and now she was making angry noises. F'sey gripped tightly, and brushed against Ialluth's mind briefly. When she asked, he told her to stay, lest she get in trouble for trying to come to his rescue.
"What's wrong? Why is she getting angrier?"
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Posted: Fri Dec 10, 2010 4:06 pm
Some truth could be found in the accusation J'aro thought too highly of himself. Honest was the claim he was a bit more in touch than the other whiteriders as well, even if it was only slightly; even if it was only him being the first (second, technically, but no one counted the dead) that gave him that edge. He'd convinced himself long ago it was his task and his task alone to undertake. Mastering the true art of whiteriding, that is. "It's all my fault" was his cross, and in his self-loathing and self-pity he'd stumbled under its weight and toppled into the groan worthy pit of despair. Face first. And never having the courage or opportunity to climb out of it. Chances were he never would claw his way to the surface the way things were going.
He'd sworn on the first egg and every egg since then (not the white eggs, mind, all eggs) he would figure this out. There was a better way to control these dragons and he'd find it. Already he'd spent hours trying break through the foggy layer of nothingness that separated his mind from hers. J'aro had never known a 'real' dragon bond to compare them, but as an onlooker he knew enough. What they had wasn't normal and it wasn't right.
He'd taken baby steps in his endeavor over the past turn or so. Agonizingly slow progress, but beggars can't be choosers, especially when those inches (so badly did he want miles) were enough to save them from being hurled into the sea and drowned.
--Actually, just him. Ialluth would reach F'sey in time, if he stopped to think about it. Not that he did. J'aro couldn't think about anything but his dragon, trying to focus, to gain control. It was something all whiterider's could do, just not quite like this. Yet again, he was the first. (But yet again, he was really the second.)
Rajath didn't stop her fit, but she didn't throw them to their potential deaths either. When she landed on the island, in the field beside the prison, as if he needed to be told J'aro ordered F'sey off in a way that was not playful; it was serious, hurried and if one felt bold they could call it scared. Thankfully, none of the wherhandlers that had been waiting for them heard it; they were much too bold and would have jumped at the chance to mock the riders their Whiterider sounded so fearful.
The very same men awaited F'sey's descent out of reach of the hissing dragon.
"Hurry and get over here, old man."
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Posted: Fri Dec 10, 2010 5:48 pm
It was a good thing J'aro was so busy trying to wrangle his dragon back into submission, lest he notice the way the greenrider closed his eyes as the flight got worse before it got better. F'sey didn't need to be told twice once Rajath had landed, all but falling off the white in his hurry to get away from her. He didn't have much of a chance to address the younger rider after he'd put a safe distance between himself and the unpredictable creature. It seemed his good friends the wherhandlers wanted to have a word with him. That game could go two ways!
"Show some respect for your elders, brats."
Almost as soon as F'sey blurted the challenge out, he regretted it. After all, those brutes had already tried crush him once, and this time, J'aro was tied up with Rajath.
He took a step back and braced himself. At least he'd be ready this time...
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Posted: Fri Dec 10, 2010 6:06 pm
J'aro was more than just 'tied up' with Rajath; he was in a battle of wills with his dragon that was making his head hurt. Any child could bump their cranium on the end of the living room table and wail over it, but this was something so much worse. He was sure, if he could only manage to conquer her once, everything would fall into place. The times after would be easier and it wouldn't be so much a hassle, he thought -- would have thought if the intense, mental smashing wasn't making anything he mused over entirely incoherent.
"Is that him finally? Move, move," a raspy, but deep voice charged forward with all the force of its carrier. The man was in his sixties, older perhaps; definitely not younger. J'aro knew nothing of them or he'd have compared him to a viking long ago. As if he needed another reason to want to smash the Whitemaster's face against a rock. He didn't look like a guy J'aro would get along with given he didn't look like a guy anyone could get along with.
"So it's you," he concluded, sizing up F'sey once. Only once. "Just get in the holding cell and I'll let you out sometime tomorrow. I don't have time to play babysitter for dragonriders."
That was an unfortunate thing to hear since J'aro had surrendered his hopes of getting the upper-hand and on his own. Rajath at last - to her utter joy if the creature had that wide an emotional compass - threw him off and he hit the ground with no more favoritism from gravity than he'd get from the Whermaster.
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Posted: Fri Dec 10, 2010 7:08 pm
F'sey glanced over just in time to watch Rajath buck J'aro off like a naughty runner, and that was it. The whiterider was going to be of no help (and though he felt the desire to go and offer the other redhead a hand up, the former Weyrlingmaster knew that would not go well, not now that the Boss was here).
He had two options: go easily, or run. But run where? He was on an island, and but the time Ialluth got here, those handlers would be on him faster than...than... (well, we'd say white on rice, but you get our drift). So really, the greenrider had one option, unless he fancied getting piled upon for the second time this morning. Which he absolutely did not, mind you.
Sneering, F'sey replied. "Lead the way."
No one said he had to be polite.
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